TITLE: REVELATINS 7: LEVEL BY LEVEL

SUMMARY: "Crichton explores his feelings for Stark. D'Argo realises he may never get back what he has lost. Aeryn is miserable."

Rated: NC-17. M/M *SLASH*.

SEQUEL to "THE GIFT."

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

Comments to: AlisonMDobll@aol.com

"LEVEL BY LEVEL"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

* * * * *

He shook. The emotions almost too strong for him yet he craved this so much he trembled for want of it. There were tears in his eyes drawn by the beauty of what he was feeling, sensing, touching, and tasting. So far out of his range of experience that words were meaningless. His world was formless, without substance in the face of such overwhelming sensations. The thoughts had not been fashioned that could describe all he was absorbing still less the words to do them justice. He wept in the extremity of his joy and Stark held him gently, every tear precious to him as he loved him. His light flowed through Crichton's pores singing a song so subtle it could not be heard with the ears or sensed through the vibration of touch, or tasted by the change of molecules in the air where his breath carried it to his lungs. He felt keenly every nuance of thought and action, his body reacting to Stark as if they had always been merged. As if the Gods had intended that they be one. Yet still it took his breath away. Rewrote his entire reality in the measure of a single heartbeat.

"My God, Stark," said Crichton when he was able at last to speak. "What is this?"

Stark smiled and kissed him with his mind, the sensation like phantom lips touching and reverberating throughout his mind, body and soul with the resonance of a bell. Such a clear sound dancing on the edge of perception. "This is the First Union."

Crichton sighed against him, intrigued. He drew a hand gently over Stark's body marvelling at all the levels he could now read in that simple touch. It was so damn exotic. Drove him crazy with desire.

"Feel with your mind, John."

He nodded and reached out mentally, letting his feelings guide him as he opened his heart until there were no walls left. Aware of Stark on a cellular level. Seeing the microcosm of the macrocosm described in the sparkling dust of his being far beyond the sub-atomic level. Something that looped through infinity and left his own understanding of science floundering on the edge of an unknown sea.

"Not even close," He murmured drinking Stark in and inhaling his essence, savouring the merging with his own. Noticing how the two energies complimented each other before his exhalation exhalted that insight to the next level taking him deeper, higher and further than he had ever dreamed possible. Wow. His body sang with light, bright sparkling wet diamonds fell from eyes too stunned to blink. Glistening in the refracted light of his lover's smile. So gentle, so deep, so loving. All embracing. He had
definitely died and gone to heaven. "I want to love you always, on every level in your entirety." He whispered in awe.

Stark slowed the flow of energies a little so that Crichton would understand what he was asking. How the passion could burn him. The speed of the higher vibrations of reality like lasers to his own slower moving human one. "If I loved you on every level John - mind, body and soul - at the same microt, the brightness of that spark would utterly consume you."

He could not bear not to touch him on every level. To be denied the ultimate union with him. "Then consume me, Stark. If you have to make my soul bleed to do it, do it." He begged.

The Banik touched him gently, wiped the tears from his face and kissed him gently. Loving him perhaps more than he had ever loved. Tasting the truth in his tears. "No John, you are too precious to me."

Crichton sank into his touch, dived into his gentle voice as if it was a warm sea that bathed him taking him home. "I ache for you."

"Sssshhhh..."

"I need you.....touch me.....love me....."

He touched him, his sensitive fingers drawing the fire of unearthly passion along his over-sensitised flesh. Every pore of his body afire with this need, feeding him images that triggered sensations which fueled the delicacy of the connection now formed between them. The bonding so intense only parting was painful. Crichton wanted to go deeper, further, be expanded fully into Stark's consciousness. His electrical field sparkled like a million bright stars shattering into birth in an explosion of feelings he
could not begin to describe. That had no comparrison to earthly pleasures. It was not sex, not a physical joining of base passions. This was something else. An expression of love and every other feeling it was possible to experience on levels hitherto undreamt of. It blew his mind to dance with the stars. Crichton reached for him mentally, physically and emotionally.
Kissed him so slowly, his tongue tasting him so gently, his mind flowing through the Banik's thoughts and loving what he found there. Stark opened up further, surprised that the human could be that subtle, realising he had underestimated him. He smiled in his mind, his thoughts touching Crichton's, caressing the elegance of his mind and making his light burn brighter.

Crichton was not sure whether or not they made love fully on a physical level the mental stimuli was so overpowering, but he knew that he had orgasmed several times. Unable to control the physical reaction of their union. Stark smiled at him and silently bade him to rest while he cleaned him. He wanted to tell him it was not necessary but he was tired, a wonderfully sated weariness seeping through him. He felt so utterly safe in Stark's arms. Could not remember the last time he had experienced a
nightmare or felt the desolation of a soul lost in a violent universe. In Stark's arms it was not violent any more just misunderstood. He closed his eyes and lost himself as his partner gently washed him with his tongue, not getting roused just being lulled to sleep as if the lapping tongue were waves gently washing against his shore. So safe. So loved. So beautiful. He drifted off slowly, quietly, with joy. Not wanting to be anywhere but in his arms. Willing to die if it meant he could stay there.

* * * * *

D'Argo looked at his son. Really *looked* at him for the first time since they had been reunited. The business with Chiana was more than unsettling. It was hurtful on so many levels he did not know where to begin. If Chiana had chosen Jothee over himself would it really solve anything to stand in their way? And if they stayed together would he be able to accept that? To stand being in their presence? He was not sure he could do that anyway. To be constantly reminded not only of what he had lost but of who had taken it from him. He loved his son so much. Worshipped every atom of his being. He was his last link to his beautiful Lolaan. What troubled him now was that he was not sure he even liked him. "What happens now, Jothee?"

His son frowned. He had been expecting recriminations, accusations, threats, anything but this. He was confused by the question and frightened of the answer. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" His father countered softly.

Jothee looked at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, it's just, it's just..."

"You couldn't resist her."

He nodded slowly, watching his father's face warily. "I couldn't. And for a moment of utter madness she felt the same way about me."

D'Argo frowned. "Moment?" He thought there had been lots of moments, but he was not about to point that out to Jothee. Let him explain.

"Now she won't even look at me." He admitted miserably.

"You knew I was with Chiana," D'Argo explained, voice still soft. Still in control. He felt too sad for rage anyway. "Knew I had feelings for her."

Jothee hung his head and nodded. He felt terrible but could not put it into words. Even the thoughts shamed him. He heard his father sigh and looked up, the eyes catching his and holding him.

"What happens now, Jothee? What do we do? How do we get passed this?"

Jothee shrugged. "I don't know."

"Do you still want Chiana?"

His son swallowed. "She doesn't want me." He admitted with a struggle. "She wants you."

D'Argo stared at him. Hardly able to believe his ears. Jothee hung his head and something seemed to break in him, just a little. When he looked up at his father there were tears in his eyes. That was when D'Argo knew it was true. Chiana still wanted him. Still loved him. He felt the stirring of wonder and as hope returned to his hearts, he felt compassion for his son.

* * * * *

Aeryn sat in Pilot's chamber. It was her watch. Everything was quiet aboard the leviathan but she felt all churned up inside. So many emotions battling inside that she could not see how she could come out a winner. It was all about damage limitation now. Or maybe just limitations. Hers. Pilot tilted his clamshell head to look at her, a sadness in his eyes. "It may do you good to talk about it."

"Talk about what, Pilot?"

"Whatever is troubling you."

She looked at him. "Why should anything be troubling me?"

Pilot said nothing, just looked at her. <Frell. He knows> She sucked in a breath as if the air in his chamber had suddenly become too thin for her. "I'm worried about John"

Pilot waited.

"This thing, this *relationship* he has with Stark. It frightens me."

"In what way does it frighten you?"

She shrugged, trying to find a way to describe the indescribable. She had been a willing part of that union and even she had difficulty. "It's as if John is becoming more and more remote. He sees me but he doesn't *see* me any more. Do you understand?"

Pilot shook his head slowly. "No."

Aeryn sighed. That was part of the problem. "I thought he loved me," She finally admitted in a small voice.

"And now you think he doesn't love you any more?"

She paused then nodded, bright tears forming in her eyes. "He loves Stark."

"Does he know how you feel about him?"

She nodded and Pilot fell silent. Out of his depth. It was not like Crichton to hurt anyone, deliberately or otherwise. Aeryn least of all. He placed a claw gently on Aeryn's shoulder, touching the side of her face. Aeryn leaned in to him, accepting his comforting presence, his friendship and wisdom. "I've lost him, Pilot, and I don't know what to do."

* * * * *

Crichton woke and immediately missed the warmth of Stark's body next to his. His eyes opened and he sat up. Stark was sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor mediating. The only difference was that Stark was dressed. When Zhaan meditated to her Godess Kah'leen she always disrobed. For a moment he was sorry that Stark had not followed her lead. He propped himself up so he could watch Stark's face, taking the opportunity to let his thoughts wash out to him in waves, lapping and caressing at the mind now stilled and balanced in peace. He closed his eyes, feeling Stark's awareness of him touch his mind gently with love. A smile graced his lips, his heart light with joy. Crichton got up and knelt on the floor in front of Stark.
He was naked but it did not matter, made no difference. Stark opened his eye and for several moments neither of them spoke. Just joyed in the presence of the other.

"You need to eat." Said Stark softly.

"You sound like my mother."

"You need nourishment."

Crichton touched his face gently, letting his thoughts be his fingers as he mapped his likeness mind to mind. "You nourish me."

"I mean for the body."

Crichton kissed him softly, gently, a mere hush of lips. "That too."

Stark became serious. "I mean it, John."

He sighed. "Okay, I'll go get something to eat it that'll make you happy."

His companion smiled. "Yes. It would."

"Then consider it done." He whispered, his lips on Stark's, travelling slowly over the visible side of his face.

"You should go now. I can finish my meditation..."

He smiled, kissed him again. Such love in his heart that everything he did celebrated that emotion. "I get the message, buddy. Want me to bring you anything?"

He shook his head. "I'll get something later."

Crichton nodded and got up. He frowned. His clothes. Now where in hezmana had he put his frelling clothes?

* * * * *

Chiana and Rygel were in the mess hall. Rygel was stuffing his face but his eyes were on Chiana. She sat across the table from him not touching a thing. "It you're not going to eat that..."

She shoved her plate over to him. "Be my guest."

"Something's wrong," Said the little Dominar between mouthfuls. His look serious. Concerned. "What is it?"

"I've messed things up, Rygel."

"Messed up, how?"

"With D'Argo."

A glimmer of realisation shone in his eyes. "What's the bartantic Luxan done now?"

"Not him, me."

"Okay, what have *you* done now?"

She looked at him for a moment, but she was not seeing the Hynerian Dominar. She was seeing D'Argo's face. She did not realise tears had started to run down her cheeks. "D'Argo found me with Jothee."

Rygel was surprised more than shocked. He knew better than the others how open Nebari relationships were. Promiscuity was not a Nebari word after all. "What happened?"

Anger sparked in her eyes. "What do you think happened, Toad? I ruined it, that's what happened." She paused. "I had a good thing going and I ruined it."

"You could go to him and tell him you're sorry. That it won't happen again."

She glared at him. He picked up the last cracker and started to make his way to the door. "Then again, what do I know?"

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Back to my quarters. I think you need some time alone, to think. Personally I think you're well rid of the Luxan but then I'm not a Nebari. If you want to make it work you sometimes have to eat pakmaleth shells. They leave a very sour bitter taste in your mouth but it does prove you are sorry for what you've done."

She was still staring after he had left. Thinking over his words and realising that he was right. It was either that or give up D'Argo.

THE END