TITLE: "STRANGE BEDFELLOWS"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/CHIANA

RATING: 'R'

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "OLD FRIENDS"

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"STRANGE BEDFELLOWS"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

Crichton cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently, his hand stroking her hair as he held her. She was still crying. He was all cried out. Pain radiating in his heart for Zhaan. Sorrow for Aeryn. Anguish for Chiana. He was not angry. Did not blame anyone. He was too worn out emotionally for any reaction that strong. Chiana stopped crying. Crichton dried her cheeks gently, kissed her lips with such tenderness she nearly wept again. This time for love of him. "Hey!"

She angled her head up at him but he still could not see her eyes. "Hey! What are you gonna do?"

"What do you mean what am I gonna do? We gotta form a plan, Pip. Same as always."

She moved her body round on the bed to half face him, needing to see him clearly. "Then what?"

He looked at her, momentarily baffled. "Then we go home."

"Home?"

He realised with sudden insight what was bothering her. It broke his heart that she could think he would leave her. "Pip, I love you. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"You loved Aeryn."

He tilted her head and looked deep into her eyes, depths that drew him and held him safe. He loved her so much. Did he have to prove it to her all over again? "Yeah, I loved Aeryn. In a way I always will, but I also love you. The difference is that I am *in love* with you, Pip. Perhaps once I could have been in love with Aeryn but she was so afraid to open her heart, to allow herself to feel, that we could never get the timing right. Then the moment was gone. Lost. She could never love me the way I needed and she could never let me love her the way I longed to. That was a long time ago now." He stroked her face gently. She could not move, mesmerised by his words. The revelation that had been so long in coming. He smiled at her. That special smile that said his heart belonged to her. "Then I fell in love with this exotic Nebari chick. Think I always had a soft spot for you Chi, but I had this crazy notion that you were too young. It would be like dating my kid sister." He chuckled at the memory. His niave assumption that her species aged like his. "Boy, did I ever get that wrong."

She laughed lightly and he bathed in the cherished sound. Nuzzled her throat and mouthed open kisses up her throat and along her jawline. She closed her eyes and absorbed his touch. Allowed them these few microts of privacy together. Soon they would have to rescue Rygel from the children and make arrangements for rescuing Aeryn. His voice hitched as he cradled her face in his hands and looked at her. "I love you so much, Pip. Do you know that?"

A shiver of delight rippled through her. "When this is over," She said gently as she touched his face. "You can show me."

He grinned. Ached for her but forced himself to hold back his passion. He had never had a partner so in tune with his body chemistry, so adaptive to his wants and needs. Her merest touch set a fire in his loins so painful in its' intensity that he had to swallow a groan of arousal. Chiana sidled against him. She knew, she always did. "Ah, don't do that Pip. I can't stand it and we don't have time."

Her smile was wicked, teasing. "I could make you forget about time completely."

His groan deepened as her hand slid down to prove her point. He caught her hand and steadied himself before bringing her hand up to his lips so he could kiss it. She turned her small white hand in his and he became fascinated with it, kissing and licking each finger slowly, sensually, while she moulded her body up against his. Slow motion. Maximum friction.

"Oh God, Chi!"

She grinned and toppled him onto his back, his strong arms circling hers as their kiss deepened. He broke away with a gasp. "We *so* do not have time for this."

"Then why are you wasting your breath?"

He chuckled, she undid his pants and he was lost.

* * * * *

The Scarran's name was Sarnek. Large even by Scarran standards, a general in the war to come. He had appetites to match and had bid and won almost thirty of the Sebaceans captured from the colony. Besides Aeryn he had also acquired Patri. Aeryn knew she should not have been pleased about that. They were hardly friends but Patri was the only one she had even partly bonded with on the colony. Her time there had been so short. Just long enough to fall into the trap.

Now they were being readied to board his carrier. She was afraid, not so much for herself but for Patri. She would not go down without a fight. What would Patri do? How would she cope? She had hoped that her friends on Moya would be able to think of something but in the end there had simply been no time. Nobody's fault just more of her frodank luck. Once the general had his carrier loaded they left the Scarran homeworld and the longest ordeal of her life began. It did not matter where they were going, where he was taking them, Aeryn honestly did not expect any of them to still be alive when they got there. Sarnek kept them in a kind of harem. All together in a special central chamber that he used for recreational purposes. The only good thing about the entire nightmare was that she could see Patri. Try in some small insignificant way to protect her. The first thing Sarnek did was make them all bathe. She had no idea why that should make a difference considering how badly Scarrans stank. Or was their scent equally as offensive to Scarrans? The thought made Aeryn smile. Patri caught the look.

"What are you smiling at?"

Aeryn kept her voice low. No sense in courting more trouble. "The Scarran wants us to bathe, be nice and clean before he rapes us." She made a huffing sound that could have been cynical humour. "I was hoping our Sebacean scent was as offensive to him as his is to us and wishing there was a way to avoid washing just to annoy him."

Patri's eyes widened in alarmed. Close to panic. She liked Aeryn but she was also frightened by the intensity of her aggression. "Please Aeryn, don't do that."

Aeryn's smile softened, her look becoming almost gentle in the face of the other's fear. "I'm sorry. I was joking, Patri. I know we're in deep dren and I don't want to do anything to make it any worse."

The Sebacean nodded, relieved. They got back to their ablutions. The tub was like a huge round bowl, the water hotter than she was used to, but bearable. All the women were in the water at the same time, many crying silently as they helped wash the dirt and grime off each other. Aeryn
strengthened her resolve and turned at a hand on her shoulder. It was Patri with a coarse kind of sponge. She did not say anything just looked at Aeryn. Aeryn nodded and turned her back, letting Patri wash her down then she did the same for Patri. A shrill whistling sound ordered them all out of the tub. Aeryn was annoyed to find their clothes had been removed. They stood in a pathetic little group, the water dripping off their naked bodies, fear radiating off them like waves of heat. Aeryn looked at Patri, saw the terror building in her eyes and felt the hard shell round her former Peace Keeper heart open a crack. She put an arm around Patri to give of her strength. A small band of victims, they clung to each other and tried to fight back the growing dispair that engulfed them.

* * * * *

Stark was frantic but determined. The little ship flying almost as eratically as his hands across the unfamiliar controls. He had not expected this. Did not want any more confrontations but it was what Zhaan wanted and he wanted only what would please her. He had no idea what he was going to do when he reached Moya, how he could help but he would. Somehow. Zhaan would show him. Yes. Yes, Zhaan would show him. The thought chased his madness round and round inside his head, the light fracturing within his mask making him even crazier. Then she came to him. Her gentle soothing hands supreimposed over his trembling ones. He paused at the controls, heart filled with hope, the expression on his face one of unutterable joy.

"Zhaan, my love. Oh Zhaan!"

Her voice wafted through the air, as if she were everywhere around him yet he felt her presence so intensely. <Stark, beloved dear Stark. We must hurry>

He nodded frantically, his mouth dropping in a wide open smile. Delirious with joy that she was with him. Always with him. "Yes, yes, hurry. Must hurry."

She knew he was doing the best he could, that he would do anything she asked and more. Her loving presence enfolded him and having set the co-ordinates he became still, suffused with ecstasy as their light blended, merged, became one. In his mind he was soaring, they were twin winged beasts of legend rising on their own myth. The physical world so far beneath them as to be an imaginary continent on some far and distant shore of another universe. They rose among the stars and set in the heart of a nebula, their atoms chased the light of distant galaxies and brought all within its' orbit. Every part of him sang with her, his heart breaking simply because to keep it whole would deny her vast capacity and he wanted her to fill him more than he wanted the air he breathed. Feelings, sensations, rushed through him in a cornucopia of essences. She was a heady fragrance that made his neurons tremble with more than physical lust, a gentle breeze that shifted through him and rearranged his cells into something so divine he could not touch it without being consumed in fire. Let him burn, let the whole universe burn with him. The intensity deepened, increased, expanded, bubbled up through him and carried him higher and higher so high it stretched him beyond the painful extreme of his consciousness to new boundaries that threatened to break him beyond the subatomic level and remake him into rare gases that would obey no known laws of nature. He would be made anew. He closed his eye and prayed it would be so. Anything but the loneliness of a physical reality without her in it.

When at last he came back to his senses she was gone. His eye opened to a tearstained cheek. Distraught but determined to do her will he looked out with the ship's sensors and saw Moya. He did not know how they had navigated the vast distances but knew that it was Zhaan who had brought him here. One miracle at a time. The ship was almost immaterial to her will. And nothing
to his.

* * * * *

Crichton and Chiana were running, picking up D'Argo and Nerri along the way. Rygel was still with the children. When they got to the landing bay Crichton skidded to a halt, suddenly wary. D'Argo looked at him. The human was trembling. "What is wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"I know that look."

Chiana touched his arm in a comforting gesture then looked at D'Argo. "It's Zhaan." She said quietly.

D'Argo's mouth formed a circle as enlightenment dawned. Of course. The arrival of Stark, however unexpected, would be full of memories of Zhaan. Painful to all of them but far more acute for Crichton. To him it was as if Zhaan had *just* died whereas for them she had been gone for five cycles. He would not have traded places with the human right now for anything. They waited in silence. When Stark emerged he actually looked quite calm, his single eye staring but with rare focus. He looked at them all for a microt then settled his attention on Crichton. He did not seem surprised to see him. "Zhaan knew you would be here."

A shudder ran through Crichton. "What are you doing here, Stark?"

"Zhaan wants to help."

"Help with what?" Rumbled D'Argo, never one to beat around the bush. He was impatient with Stark. The nervous energy of the man always put the Luxan on edge.

Stark barely acknowledged him. He walked up to them and stopped in front of Crichton. He reached out to touch him. His hands fluttering to his chest. "I have something for you."

The human started to step back. Alarmed by the madness in that single eye. Stark shook his head, getting anxious. "No, no. Not bad. Not bad. Zhaan."

Crichton froze. Chiana was tempted to knock Stark on his eema but Crichton had an odd relationship with Stark. Ever since they had shared that Peace Keeper cell aboard Scorpius's Command Carrier it was as if the two of them had things they could share only with each other. She was not sure how she felt about that but knew that she had to let Crichton decide for himself
what to do when it came to the former Banik slave. Her own feelings towards him were a mixture of pity, fear and friendship. Stark almost pawed Crichton as he spoke. His voice pleading. "Come, come, let me show you. Must show you."

"Stark," Said Crichton, his voice thick with emotion. Trying to stay calm. "This isn't a good time. Aeryn..."

He nodded. "Yes, yes, Aeryn. Zhaan knows."

His look sharpened. "You know about Aeryn?"

"Yes, and the Scarrans, and the other things coming..."

Chiana's head snapped up. "Other things?" She grabbed Stark's head between her hands and shook him. "What other things?"

He struggled close to panic. They were delaying him. Keeping him from Zhaan. It was Crichton's hands gently releasing her that brought Chiana to her senses. "It's okay, Pip. I think I need to talk to Stark alone for a couple of microts. Is that right, Stark?"

Stark nodded, gratitude shining in that single eye. Crichton nodded. The others were not sure what to think but if it was alright with Crichton they would allow it. They watched him guide Stark out of the landing bay so they could have some privacy. Chiana tilted her head at D'Argo. "Does someone want to tell me just what the frell is going on?"

D'Argo snorted but said nothing. He did not know. Nerri looked the calmest of all of them. "He has a message for John. When it is delivered I am sure he will tell us why he is here."

"And suppose," Said Chiana. "That the message is the only reason he is here?"

"Then he will deliver it and go." Answered D'Argo practically.

Nerri looked thoughtful but said nothing. Somehow Chiana did not think it would be that simple.

* * * * *

The children were bored and Rygel could not blame them. His endless stories about the royal court had long since faded into the realm of overused cliches. Too many moralistic overtones for the children to embrace, too many painful memories of a past that he no longer had contact with for Rygel. Jack paced then threw himself on the bed next to where the Dominar sat. Kari was quieter but her expressive eyes spoke volumes. Rygel had seen that look in Chiana's eyes too many times to mistake it.

"How long do we have to wait here?" Wailed Jack.

"Until your father or mother come to get you."

"I don't understand what we did wrong?" said Kari.

Rygel's eyebrow tuffs drooped a little. He felt so sad. Some of his emotion must have been picked up by the children because Kari immediately took one of the Dominar's little stubby hands in hers. "I'm sorry, Uncle Rygel. We like being with you but we know something's wrong."

"Yeah," Said Jack softly. His father's eyes settling on the Dominar's troubled face. "And I'm guessing you're sworn to secrecy right?"

His intuitive accuracy startled the Dominar momentarily. Then he gave him a rueful smile. "You truly are your father's son, Jack."

Jack beamed at him. Kari tugged Rygel's eartuff playfully pretending to be annoyed. "What about me?"

"You," Growled Rygel in mock annoyance. "Are *definitely* your mother's offspring!"

He then started to dig her in the ribs setting her off in fits of giggles. Jack laughed and jumped on top of them to uphold the honour of the Crichton's. Over and over they rolled in peels of laughter until they fell off the end of the bed and landed in an untidy heap just as Chiana stuck her head around the door. Three sheepish faces looked up at her. Over her shoulder Nerri grinned then left them to untangle themselves under his sister's watchful eye. He had something to check on and time was running out.

* * * * *

Crichton looked down at his hands. He was sitting in Stark's old room. It was the only place he could think of where they would not be disturbed. He sat on the bed with his fingers linked, locking and unlocking them over and over again. Stark knelt on the floor facing him but Crichton would not look up. He was upset and nervous and trying hard not to show it but Stark knew him too well.

"John," He said gently.

He looked up. All trace of madness was gone from the man's face. That single eye was steady, regarding him with emotions that stirred him so deeply he thought he would drown. The man was like a magician. So many things to so many people. At once a clown and a wiseman. A tormented devil and an angel. Which face was he seeing now? Or did he merely show them what they expected to see? Stark held his hands out in silent entreaty. He looked at him for a microt knowing what he wanted then slid off the bed and onto his knees to face him. They were now at eye level, only microdench apart. He noticed something for the first time. Stark did not have a distinctive scent of his own, he rather reflected the scent of those around him. Those closest to him. Right now that scent was Zhaan. Did he know that he knew? Stark's look was so gentle, so careful, as if knowing his words would hurt his friend but prepared to share that pain with him.

"My Zhaan, your Zhaan." He said softly.

Crichton nodded, close to tears. "I miss her, Stark."

Stark nodded. "She knows."

He searched Stark's face intently. "Is she," He paused, his voice so soft that even had the room been full of people only Stark would have heard him. "Is she here now?"

He nodded. "Yes, John. Zhaan is *always* with me." He placed a hand out flat against Crichton's chest so that it covered his beating heart. "Yes, and she is always with you, my friend."

Stark did not remove his hand and as Crichton gazed into that single staring eye he felt something move in his heart. Something rare and beautiful opening up inside of him, filling him with light and love and a gamut of emotions that rocked his soul and squeezed tears out of his heart that he did not know he was crying. He could feel Zhaan all around him, her gentle voice like birdsong and violins and a bright summer's day in North Carolina. As wholesome as apple pie. Yet so rare and exotic. An orchid blooming in quicksand. His heart ached. He felt Zhaan reach in and open the walls of his heart. Gently stripping back the layers he had built up since coming into the Uncharted Territories. He felt vulnerable. Naked. All that he was revealed. Nothing hidden. Stark removed his mask with his free hand, careful to keep contact with Crichton. Not to break the connection. A sudden move now could kill him. Light flooded them both. Intense, pure and loving. Unity triggered inside Crichton setting his soul aflame with nameless passions, every part of him loved and revealed to her. He felt Stark too, not in a voyeuristic sense either. Like a companion, another outpouring that embraced him and held him steady for the journey that was Zhaan.

It was like every cell in his body shared all the feelings in the other cells. No divisions. No secrets. No joy compartmentalised. No agony fractured and buried in other parts of his psyche. It was painful. It was beautiful. It was like an orgasm of the mind, so powerful and overwhelming that he almost blacked out. Stark kept him conscious. Kept him sane. Zhaan loved him, traced all his hurts and imperfections and made him whole again. The pain and damage was still there but it was visible now. He could not even hide from himself. He ached, she soothed him. Now he could feel Stark blending with his consciousness. Not exactly erotic but certainly a weird but wonderful sensation. A kind of trust that made him want to cry. Why that? Why not laugh? Why not an emotion that filled him with glee? He felt Stark touch his thoughts, more curiosity than anything else. Love flowed undiluted and he felt his heart responding. It was as if he could feel the connection between Zhaan and Stark so inbued the one with the other that it was like looking at a single being trapped in two different psyches. Was that how it worked? Would that happen to him and Chiana if one of *them* died? Another jolt rocked him and he almost cried out. He was closing down. Zhaan kissed his soul gently then began to rewrap his heart. Piece by piece putting all his secrets back in place, but now they had been bathed in her light. Their ability to harm him diminished by an act of purest love. Her gift to him. A form of giving that was beyond earthly comprehension. An ability he could only stand in awe of. That anyone could love another so much moved him.

As her light withdrew from him he sagged against Stark. He did not know how long he knelt there, feeling the gentle embrace hold and comfort him. Stark's light still bathed him mind, body and soul but it was a gentle light now, not seeking, not demanding, not doing anything other than holding him in a state of peace. A place of calm where he could rest, be loved, and come back to his senses in his own time. No rush. No harsh words. Just understanding. At last he raised his tear soaked face and caught the last of the golden light from Stark's revealed face. The man looked like a angel with his gift of light. He did not know how to begin to thank him. Stark shushed him as if he could read his thoughts. A gentle hand stroked his face, wiped away his tears.

"How did you do that?" He asked in awe.

Stark continued to gently stroke his face, his voice and hand soothing him. "I did nothing, my friend. It was Zhaan."

A soft smiled graced Crichton's lips. "Zhaan." He breathed her name in joy and as the breath ended the pain hit him. Sobs broke him. Stark folded his arms around him, held him to his heart and gently rocked him. His voice soothing him as he cried. The last of the healing arts wrung from him to bless his soul.

* * * * *
end