TITLE: OPENING THE BOX

AUTHOR: Alison M Dobell

PAIRING: JOHN/STARK

RATING: R

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "NO HIDING PLACE"

WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Crichton, Zhaan and Aeryn mount their rescue. Everyone holds their breath." The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"OPENING THE BOX"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

* * * * *

He felt unaccountably nervous. Eager to re-enter Unity with Zhaan for Stark's sake but nervous on some deep instinctive level. He did not know why, was not sure he wanted to examine the possibilities too closely. He felt Aeryn's hand take hold of his and it was as if God had given him an anchor. A couple of DRDs followed them to the apothecary. The others came to see them get settled and give their best wishes. One by one exchanging hugs and leaving. Chiana found it hardest to go. It felt too much like saying goodbye. D'Argo waited outside for her and then she too was gone. Zhaan looked at Crichton and Aeryn, the three of them alone now apart from the two DRDs. They sat on cushions on the floor in a little circle, knees touching. Crichton was amused to see one of the DRDs roll close to rest against his thigh. It reminded him of a dog he used to have, a labrador. The animal was only happy if he could be with him, and happiest of all to have physical contact with him whether laying his head on his shoe as he did his homework, or sitting leaning against his leg when he was sitting watching the sun go down. It did not matter, to the dog that contact, that need to touch, was a source of affection, comfort and sharing. He had not expected Blue to get that attached to him but was absurdly happy that he had. It made him feel even more protective towards the little fella. He smiled at the blue tape starting to unravel on his lightstalk and gently straightened the stalk and rewound it tighter. It would hold for a while but afterwards he would need to tape it again.

"There. Good as new."

The little DRD waved his light stalks slowly up at him in thanks, little muted beeps and chittering making Crichton's smile widen. Aeryn was frowning. "I don't know how you can pretend to understand a thing it says."

Crichton brushed a gentle hand over the DRD's casing as if to reassure him that Aeryn meant no offence. An unthinking gesture of affection. "It's the tone Aeryn. It's like you can tell when someone is irritated at you not so much by *what* they say but how they say it." He paused to let that sink in. "And Blue is a he not an it, Aeryn."

She shook her head, getting cross at the idiocy of ascribing gender to a machine. Zhaan smiled and looked at Blue. "He is certainly very attached to you, John."

He looked pleased. "Yeah. I guess Moya wants to keep an eye on the kids."

"Kids?"

"Yeah. Kids. Children. I assume that's how she must think of us."

That amused Zhaan. She inclined her head graciously. "I am sure you are right, John." A pause. "Are you ready?"

Crichton took a breath, looked at Aeryn then nodded to Zhaan. "As we'll ever be."

Zhaan looked at Aeryn. "When we share Unity, Aeryn, it will be very intense. You will experience feelings that you may find hard to control. Do not lose your focus. Ignore the passions of the body and enter the joining of minds."

"How do I do that?"

Crichton squeezed her hand gently. "We'll help you, show you."

She nodded. Good enough. The second DRD took up station to Aeryn's right. Between the two of them Moya would be able to see everything that went on in the room. Aeryn was secretly glad they were there, they were not simply Moya's eyes and ears they were Pilot's too.

Zhaan put her left palm against Aeryn's right cheek and her right palm against Crichton's left cheek. Without thinking, they put their heads side by side, their foreheads touching Zhaan's. All three closed their eyes as Zhaan's quiet prayers began the prelude. Aeryn almost jumped as she became aware of other thoughts in her head, like hands they tugged at her consciousness gently but with growing insistence. <Let go> Was that Crichton? Who said that? She tried to relax, felt a smile in her mind, gentle, encouraging, pleased that she was trying to open up. Zhaan. She regulated her breathing and followed the gentle urgings, feeling herself becoming more and more enveloped in love. It was a heady experience, like discovering warmth where there had only been an empty chill before. It made her feel like crying but she did not cry. More thoughts brushed her mind, relaxing the tight walls she had constrained herself within, a kind of reckless freedom knocking down her own Berlin wall. Where had that thought come from? Crichton. She felt his smile, a warm wash of such love that every dark space within her was flooded with light. She wanted to sing with the joy of it. Sing? This must be the beginning of madness.

<A devine madness, sunshine>

She could not help smiling. Loving his gentleness as much as she loved everything else about him. She felt a deep sense of arousal stirring her whole body, making her tremble with the strength of it, shaking her with how easily it swamped her control. For the love of Cholok it was like being on the brink of orgasm. Phantom hands brushed her body from the inside out, her senses so heightened she felt her waters rush to break on foreign shores. Her mind adrift and spinning away from her. Control was a dream in someone else's vision not hers. What the yotz was happening to her? Her shudder at something so sweet was interrupted by stronger thoughts, gentle but insistent, guiding her thoughts away from bodily functions to steer her inward, beyond physicality and all its' distractions. She swallowed hard. Felt Crichton and Zhaan with her, her brief shame pushed away as if it were of no consequence. She realised they must have gone through similar experiences. Somehow she did not feel jealous just relieved.

<What am I looking for?> She asked.

<Not sure> Crichton. That felt like Crichton.

His warmth ebbed through her mind, body and soul and she felt her heart expanding in an effort to contain that beauty, that affection. <Think of Stark, Aeryn> That was Zhaan. A lovely cool breeze wafting through her mind where Crichton was all warmth and sunshine. A heart that knew only how to give. She loved him so much, was so frelling proud of him. She turned her thoughts to Stark, envisaging him, his gentle presence, his voice, his look, his touch, his love. Her heart sang out to him, calling him, willing his soul to answer so they could follow and find him. Silence echoed back, a painful emptiness that drained her. It was like crying without tears. A strange intense feeling that carried its' own melancholy into the walls of the still beating heart.

Crichton was careful not to push Aeryn too hard, Zhaan approving his caution but wanting to take Aeryn further. They agreed their strategy and introduced her to the deeper levels of being where the darkness lurked, drew breath and held their joy prisoner. Aeryn was less sure now, her mind becoming anxious and touched with fear. Crichton reached out, cradled her mind with his, love pouring out and bathing her in light, Zhaan augmenting his loving thoughts with her own. Aeryn responded, opened her heart again and prepared to dive deep into uncharted waters. Crichton warned her it would get darker, much darker, that she would feel the temptation to let terror overwhelm her, that she must resist, hang on to the light, hang on to thoughts and memories of Stark. Reach out not with her hands, not even with her thoughts, but with her love. <Can you do that, sweetheart?>

<Yes> She felt she could do anything if Crichton was with her.

The plunge was sudden, the darkness absolute, her fear palpable. Zhaan bolstered her senses, such a beautiful assured touch that it was like a lifeline. Crichton's thoughts shored up her flagging mind, his love so strong that it helped her to focus. She thought of Stark, all the times she had spoken to him and then the wonder of discovering what it was to be loved by him, to share Crichton's love with him, to release herself from the jealousy which had threatened to destroy something so beautiful and precious that she would have been bereft at the loss. She relived the moment when she had loved Stark, her fingers touching and exploring his flesh, tasting his sweetness as she gently plundered him, the pleasure she got from bringing him to slow excitation as he lay in Crichton's arms. Stroking him and kissing him, her lips, her tongue, her hands working his passive body into a loving response until she urged him to fill her as she set fire in his loins and joined him and Crichton in a medley of orgasmic pleasure that had been beyond any other expression of love she could have imagined still less endured. When he had taken off his mask and bathed her and Crichton in his light it had moved her so deeply. On some level she knew her body was responding to her memories, felt herself becoming so moist and ready, feeling phantom hands touch her and pleasure her, lips kissing hers, sucking on her breasts and dipping with divine expertise to savour her sex and probe her warm depths, drinking her precious essence as she came again and again in direct response to the urgings of the persistent tongue. She could still feel his lips on her as Crichton made sure no part of her was left unloved or wanting. Stark surrendering to her desire as she felt another hand on her, other lips seeking her, an exotic tangle of thoughts, emotions and sensations that rocked her.

<Concentrate, Aeryn> That was Zhaan.

She clung to the thought and used it to guide her back. The visions of sex so strong she had difficulty pushing passed the physical sensations and concentrating instead on the love. The need to reach out with her heart not her body. She felt Crichton's gentle encouragement. <Stark> He urged with gentle passion. She thought about Stark again, about the light he had shared with them when he took off his mask. Those myriad voices that had sung to her, touched her soul and drawn her deeper into the love they shared. She wondered where those voices were now. Something touched her mind and heart at the same time. <Aeryn?>

<Yes, John?>

<We are approaching the box. I should warn you, it will remind you of being underwater>

She almost laughed. A hard brittle sound like a heart breaking. <It has felt like I've been underwater most of the time anyway> She responded with dark humour.

<This honey is worse. Trust me. But we can do this>

<Yes> That was Zhaan. <We are together. We are strong>

Aeryn clung to them and they took the last step of the journey and came up against something they could not see only feel, a darkness, an emptiness that threatened to consume her very soul. She shuddered. Crichton's love deadened the impact, Zhaan's presence strengthened her resolve. Crichton was trying hard to hold it all together. The shock to his heart so profound that it almost stopped beating. Zhaan could not believe it.

<What? What?> Screamed Aeryn's thoughts, verging on the edge of panic as their hold on her weakened.

<The box> Crichton's thought bled to her in a sea of bitter pain. <It's empty...>

* * * * *

"I do not understand." Said D'Argo slowly. "How can he be *gone*. You said he was trapped?"

Crichton's eyes were red rimmed. Aeryn and Zhaan did not look too good either. Chiana was sorry about Stark but glad the three of them had not somehow shared his fate. Whatever that was. "So what happened to it?"

Zhaan looked confused. "What happened to what, child?"

Chiana inwardly bristled but ignored it. She was not a child and sometimes it grated on her that Zhaan still thought of her as one. "The box. What happened to it?"

Crichton, Aeryn and Zhaan looked at each other. Crichton frowned, trying to remember. Zhaan thought about it. "I don't know. We were so intent on looking for Stark we never thought about the box."

"How could you *not* think about the box?" Grumbled Rygel. "That was where you were supposed to find Stark."

Zhaan shot him an irritated look but Crichton deflected any rising animosity. "Rygel makes a good point. I remember coming up against the box but once we realised it was empty we came out again."

"So," Said Rygel thoughtfully. "It *appeared* empty?"

They stared at him. Slowly his meaning filtered their befuddled brains. Crichton spoke slowly, wanting to be sure that what he thought Rygel meant was what he was saying. "Are you saying Stark may still be in there?"

"I'm not saying anything just that you are dealing with someone who likes to play games. Very cruel and spiteful games. Now you say that Stark created a box deep inside your mind so you could hide from Scorpius?"

"Yeah, that's right Ryge."

"You also say that the neural chip was the only chip he put in your head?"

"To my knowledge."

"What if he didn't put another chip inside your head?"

D'Argo's eyes widened. "You said there could be another chip."

Rygel nodded.

"Now you're saying there *isn't* another chip?"

"I'm not saying there is or there isn't only that it is a *possibility*."

Crichton was watching the little Dominar closely. "Go on Ryge, what else?"

"What if the Scorpius clone is not hiding in another chip but found a way to hide somewhere else - say, in this box of yours?"

He went cold. <Oh no, please God, don't let Scorpy have Stark>

When he got no response Rygel looked at Zhaan. "Is it possible?"

Zhaan looked worried. Saw by Crichton's reaction that he certainly accepted it as a possibility but she was still unsure. "I don't know Rygel."

"Maybe he just died." Said Chiana.

When everyone looked at her she blushed, uncomfortable and embarrassed. "Hey, I don't want anything to happen to him but it's a possibility."

Aeryn nodded. Her voice quiet and oddly weary. "Yes, Chiana, it's a possibility."

"What then," Said the ever practical Luxan "Are we going to do?"

For a moment no one spoke then Crichton sighed. "There's only one thing we can do. We have to go back and check."

The journey back was torturous. It did not help that all three of them were tired, had not eaten or rested properly. Common sense should have made them take more precautions but the sense that they were running out of time and may have used it up already urged them on. Aeryn looked at Crichton's face. It was drawn and his palor was grey. He looked like dren. Somehow she did not think it would help to tell him that. She squeezed his hand and he rewarded her with a watery smile that never reached his eyes. They knelt on the cushions in the apothecary. Subdued. Silent. Already lost. Zhaan tried to centre herself but it was difficult. She was too emotional. She sighed and tried again, praying to the Goddess Kah'leen to make her strong, give her focus and bless their endeavour. They had to find Stark or failing that, find out what had happened to him.

* * * * *

Deep, deep in the darkness of the soul, the Scorpy clone exulted. Black waves of pleasure rippled out from him and sent chills through Crichton. He did not know what it was of course, but that was part of the beauty of this revenge. The not knowing would kill him more surely than the knowing. He grinned. A mirror image of the death's head half-Scarran who had made it his life's work to pursue and torment this particular being. To the very ends of the universe and beyond...

* * * * *

THE END