Title: Carnal Directives
Author: MissAnnThropic
E-Mail: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com
Summary: Things are stranger than usual aboard Moya and things start to heat up.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching taped episodes of her favorite shows :(



"Hey, Dad... you know that point you get to when you've been around the same people just too long?"

John Crichton turned off the tape recorder roughly, setting it down on the table beside his chess board with a haggard sigh and rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip. He'd been forced to keep his messages to his father as short as possible... he had precious centimeters of tape left. He didn't want to think about what he'd do when the last bit of his father was taken from him, so he kept his messages short, turning to the tape recorder only in emergencies.

"John Crichton," the comms issued forth in Pilot's stark voice.

Crichton groaned under his breath, running his hand through his short hair before replying in a controlled voice, "Yes, Pilot?"

"The others require your presence in the command."

Crichton withheld an acidic remark on the tip of his tongue, instead grinding his jaw before answering, "On my way." Right now, the last thing he really wanted was to be forced into close company with the others... D'Argo especially.



****



Ka D'Argo paced the command, snarling at Zhaan when she moved across his path. Zhaan was unflappable as ever, and oddly seemed the only one unaffected by the latest bout of cabin fever moving through the crew, and gave a warning but tolerant look to the Luxan. D'Argo backed down with a soft hiss, coming not even within an inch of releasing his hostility on the Delvian. He had never been able to become aggressive with Zhaan, she was too wise and formidable for that.

Aeryn Sun sat with her arms crossed, watching D'Argo with a faint glare, then asked, "Pilot, where are Crichton and Chiana? Not that we need the little trelk to make a decision..."

Rygel snorted gruffly, "Were it up to you, none of us would be consulted for anything. Peacekeeper bitch would like to make all the decisions on this ship." Rygel of course speaking more personally, that if given the option no one would inform him of anything.

Pilot ignored the bickering, answering, "Crichton is coming, I haven't been able to find Chiana."

D'Argo growled, to which Pilot cant his head in the clamshell almost curiously. "What do you mean you can't find her?"

"She is not answering her comms."

D'Argo grumbled something Luxan under his breath, then spoke up, "This is the third solar day she's been missing, Pilot, why haven't you been able to locate her?"

Pilot's eyes narrowed indignantly, "Chiana is quite adept at avoiding detection when she wishes it, and since it is her wish to be alone I have not been inclined to look for her."

D'Argo opened his mouth to speak, but Aeryn interjected sharply, "If she wants to slink around in the shadows, let her. We don't need her anyway, and we're more likely to stay out of trouble with her gone."

Crichton walked into command at the tail end of the conversation, looking around at the group and asking, "Still no Chi?"

Aeryn sighed, eyes distancing in that way she had when she deemed her unescapable company beneath her.

Zhaan shook her head, "No, John."

Crichton moved toward the table, where congregated the others, and suggested, "Maybe we should go look for her."

D'Argo snarled viciously and took an advancing step toward Crichton, "You have no reason to find her, human."

Crichton's temper flared right back and he faced D'Argo squarely, retorting, "Back off, Dog Boy."

D'Argo growled, anger fanned by Crichton's reciprocation.

Aeryn stood, letting out a frustrated and fed-up sigh and moving toward the two males, putting herself between them and snapping, "If you two are quite finished, can we get this over with?"

Crichton, eyes still fiery, glared at D'Argo a moment longer before relenting only for Aeryn's sake. D'Argo hissed, but did not proceed to tempt a fight... for the moment.

Aeryn turned to face the clamshell, taking a step to the side until she favored Crichton in proximity as opposed to D'Argo.

D'Argo made as though to step forward again, growling. Crichton took a half-step toward the Luxan, offsetting one shoulder to block Aeryn from the warrior.

"Enough of this," Zhaan said, sighing at the others and moving around the table to stand between D'Argo and Crichton. Whatever the situation, the two males would not cross her to fight one another.

"Pilot, you asked us here to tell us something?"

Pilot nodded, waiting to see that the confrontation was over, and said, "Mapping of Moya's encounters with Peacekeeper patrols and occupations has led us both to believe that we will most likely encounter quite a large number of ships in a few weekens. It is an extrapolation at best, however, she and I are confident it is statistically probable enough to take in earnest."

"So we change course to evade them," Zhaan offered more as a prompt for contradiction.

Pilot looked at his controls askance, "We could do that, of course, however we are approaching Metlen space."

Everyone in the room but Crichton perked up, leaving John looking around and asking, "Metlen?"

Rygel snorted, "One of the most widely-known species in the galaxy, leaving no surprise they're new to you, deficient."

John flinched as though to tackle Rygel, but Zhaan held out a hand on his arm which effectively stilled him, asking Pilot, "Will they be willing to receive us to plead for safe harbor?"

"I have already spoken to their governmental leader, and he has agreed to meet with Rygel and D'Argo at once."

Crichton was irate at that, "Whoa, why do they get to go down?"

D'Argo growled loudly, "Because the Hynerian pain and the eema and I are the only hope you have of being allowed to enter."

Crichton glowered and retorted bitterly, "I'd rather Zhaan speak for me to these people as opposed to you."

Zhaan, took up familiar role of mediator and level voice, saying gently, "D'Argo is right, John... the Metlen are a strictly patriarchal society, they will not negotiate with any of the females on this ship."

"Then I'll go myself, I'm a guy."

Everyone made a face at that for Crichton's naivete, but Zhaan merely shook her head gently, "Their practice for dealing with the male gender alone is a doctrine of belief rivaled only by the Metlen's hate for the Peacekeepers."

"And male or not, if you went down there the Metlen would skin you alive and the rest of us..." Aeryn began.

John finished shortly, "Would be detained and imprisoned as conspirators." It was not the first time Crichton was frustrated by the simple fact that he happened to look like a Peacekeeper.

"I don't like it," Crichton groused almost petulantly.

D'Argo said gruffly, "You don't have to like it, primitive, you just have to stay here! The Metlen's space is a widely known secure place kept clear of Peacekeeper presence."

Zhaan nodded, "And with the large number of Peacekeeper patrols following us... we must find some place to hide for a short time until their search has taken them past us. Moya can outrun the patrols for only so long."

"And our best chance of that is taking refuse in Metlen space," Aeryn said in her 'barely putting up with the dumb human' tone of voice. "Even Peacekeepers are forced to respect Metlen space perimeters, these people are fiercely protective of their territory and will not hesitate to incite a war over the smallest infractions. Most Marauder and Prowler Unit captains do not consider it an acceptable risk."

Crichton seemed unhappy with the plan, but didn't say anything more.

D'Argo quipped tersely to the already provoked human, "Just stay here with the other women."

Crichton's face darkened quickly and he stepped forward to confront the Luxan. It made little difference that the Luxan could crush the smaller human easily if it came to blows, sometimes John let his pride outweigh his own common sense.

Zhaan knew this and kept her position, extending her hands to both to hold the two at bay. There was a respect for Zhaan among the crew that was sometimes all that kept them from ripping each other apart.

D'Argo was hissing and snarling at John, growling low in his throat and inviting the short battle Crichton offered. Crichton pushed against Zhaan's restraining hand for only a few microts before he settled on staring at D'Argo hotly from Zhaan's left. The small crew had been together long enough to read to some degree the unspoken language of the others, in most of them those signals were not that subtle. They had learned at some point that such a pointed stare from the human could be read as intense interest as well as hostility... a fact D'Argo was well aware of as he flexed his arms as though to grapple the human for his behavior on the spot.

"By the goddess! Stop this!" Zhaan screamed, pushing at both males roughly before dropping her hands and twisting to face all of them in turn, "Look at you bickering, fighting for days like a litter of Crelmit pups. The time apart will do all of you good."

Crichton looked another moment at D'Argo, then turned to face Aeryn and almost seemed to herd her away from the Luxan. It didn't look like Aeryn realized what he was doing, because if she had she might have resisted just on principal, but as it was she nonchalantly turned to head out with Crichton wherever he was headed... leaving D'Argo none too happy.

Zhaan turned to D'Argo and Rygel, gathering her temper, "It is vital you succeed for us, Ka D'Argo," then she glanced over at Rygel and stepped closer to the Luxan to whisper, "I know it is against your nature to do so, but in this instance I implore you to set aside your inclination and listen to Rygel. His skills as a negotiator are..."

D'Argo snarled, "I know what must be done; you insult me to think I would not be able to do what is necessary when there is no choice."

Zhaan sighed, shaking her head, "Kahalen I fear we are forced to share too much time together for our own goods."

"That is without question, Pa'u," D'Argo replied, turning and speaking louder, "Rygel, get in the hanger bay now, I'm leaving on a transport pod in thirty microts with or without you."

"Luxan frellnik!" Rygel hissed, following D'Argo toward the command door and to the hangar bay for the short flight to the small moon of Metlen Prime, the first contact point for the people who lived further into the system... anything coming past the moon without first speaking with the representatives on the satellite was considered hostile and dealt with as such. Such talks typically took a number of solar days, in which Moya would be parked outside the system 'with their pants down' as John would call it. It would be a tense waiting game for them all, and the added tension was the last thing they really needed now.



****



"Pa'u Zhaan, is there something I can do for you?" Pilot asked when he looked up and saw the Delvian priestess entering his chamber.

Zhaan shook her head, giving Pilot a gentle smile. Unless in the most dire of situations, Zhaan could always find a smile for Pilot or Moya. "No, Pilot, I simply wished your company."

Pilot half-nodded his head, "It is always welcomed, Zotoh Zhaan."

Zhaan moved to the nest area where Pilot worked, standing there silently a while before she added, "You and I seem to be the only ones not acting... strangely."

Pilot glanced up at her, regarding her a moment before he nodded as though it were explanation enough, and in fact more than he had required.

Zhaan frowned, serene blue face beset with concern, and she leaned closer to ask, "Have you noticed this as well, Pilot?"

Pilot continued working his controls but didn't miss a beat in talking with Zhaan, "Yes, I have. However Moya and I have run diagnostics of her ventilation systems and chemical outputs, and it's nothing happening with Moya affecting their behavior."

"You knew this and weren't more concerned?"

Pilot sighed, "I had attributed it yet again to behavior among your species that I do not claim to understand. There are many activities among Moya's passengers that escape my understanding, I believed this was another example of that. It does not seem... dangerous."

Zhaan shook her head, "Among those left aboard Moya no, it doesn't, but I fear when D'Argo and Rygel return. By Kahalen I would swear that Crichton and D'Argo were going to kill each other, but for the grace of the Goddess I cannot think why."

Pilot shook his head, "Nor have Moya or I been able to discern the cause for their unusual behavior. Do you think it is harmful, Zhaan?"

Zhaan thought a moment, her response uncertain, "It doesn't seem to be, on the condition that D'Argo and Crichton are kept apart. Still, the others are not themselves. Aeryn has been bathing and changing wardrobe more frequently than usual, and Crichton..."

Pilot nodded, "I have observed Crichton in the cargo bay exercising almost to what I would say is excess for him."

Zhaan nodded, "And it's not just the physical volatility, he hovers around myself and Aeryn when we are in the same room. I've found it somewhat disconcerting, but the same does not seem to be so for Aeryn. In truth, she seems to return the strange attention, which is greatly contrary to her natural disposition.

"And Chiana, there had been no sign of her for five solar days. Even when Chiana decides to retreat from the crew, she does not do so for so long. Have you still been unable to locate her?"

Pilot nodded, pausing, "I have had a couple of DRDs searching for her... I too share your concern at the longevity of her absence."

Zhaan touched one of Pilot's claws, "You are a good heart, Pilot. I'm sure she is unharmed, but I fear she is being affected as the others in the crew have been. I only pray to the Goddess it is no worse than Crichton has been."

Pilot nodded in agreement, checking with a few of his DRDs and quickly discovering what the ones stationed in the cargo bay witnessed... John Crichton working out again. Pilot would have expected the human to be working on his module or studying one of Moya's systems... evidence again of Crichton's recently peculiar behavior.



****



Crichton licked the salty sweat from his upper lip, scowling at the tickle of beads running down his face toward the floor but refusing to let it interrupt his concentration.

"Thirty... nine..." rising up from the floor on his arms, elbows shaking and threatening to give just before he had them all but locked, holding his rigid body upright over the Peacekeeper exercise mat. Only to dip again, brushing his bare chest faintly against the floor before straining to rise again.

"...Forty..."

"Are you finished yet?"

Crichton dropped to the floor, rolling on to his side and quickly thereafter to his knee to face the visitor to the room. Aeryn Sun was standing there with her hands on her hips, staring at Crichton accusingly.

Crichton rose to his feet, breathing heavily from a recent exercise regime the last of which included push-ups. His tone of voice was just shy of being acidic. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I needed a reservation."

Aeryn turned her head fractionally, as though to condescend the human again, instead folding her arms in front of her and letting her eyes travel the length of Crichton's body. Normally her critical once-overs made him uncomfortable, like he was an unworthy study specimen that she was considering either killing or castrating. This time the look wasn't disconcerting like usual and instead of rummaging around for his shirt he shifted the bulk of his weight to one leg, resting his own hands on his sides as Aeryn had done earlier and standing firm before her. Practically daring her to find another fault in him.

Aeryn lifted one brow at him, dropping her arms as she asked, "As I said, are you finished?"

John mimicked Aeryn's facial tics, raising one brow at her in return and almost leering as he asked, "Why do you want to know?"

Aeryn moved closer, stepping on to the mat and stooping down to retrieve John's moist shirt from it's discarded spot on the floor and rose, facing Crichton and answering him with a complete and seemingly unrelated point, "You never exercise this intensely, actually most of the time you're quite sloth."

Crichton didn't flinch, "Your point?"

Aeryn took one step closer, "That this is the third day I've come in here and found you drenched, worked to exhaustion..." Aeryn wrinkled her nose, "and smelling like dren." Crichton resisted the urge to point out to her that even if she said he smelled like crap she hadn't stepped away from being nearly in his face.

"Do you have a problem with that, Ms. Sun?"

"Do you have a problem? I'm not the one acting strangely." 'Now that's a lie' Crichton thought, but bringing it up was a whole other can of worms that he wasn't willing to get into at the moment.

Instead he said back with a tilt of his face toward her, "I'm not acting strangely."

Aeryn gave him a look of incredulity, one that was soon chased by what appeared to be an unstoppable half-smile. It vanished soon enough, but John had seen it and gave his own faint, dark smirk back at her.

Crichton stepped closer to Aeryn, closer until he stood face to face with her, no doubt enough to offend her with that dren odor she said he had. He expected her to take a step away, or push him back for his audacious intrusion, but to his mild surprise or delight she held her ground.

Despite the fact John Crichton was not much taller than Aeryn Sun, she had to look up to meet his eyes. She seemed to study him for a moment before a humorless sincerity crept into her features. She frowned at him, looking over his sweaty face and dilated pupils and asked, "Why are you doing this?"

John's leer dropped and he glanced half an inch away from her gaze, seeming to think in the privacy of his own mind before looking back at her. She was waiting for an explanation, and trying not to let his closeness oddly distract her.

Crichton had a penchant for telling her the truth when she asked, even when he would have withheld it from all the others. "Inside, in me," he answered cryptically.

Aeryn frowned, "What?"

Crichton found himself having to pull his gaze away from her eyes, dropping them to the hand where she held his shirt. Seeing his attention, she held it up to him in the sparse distance between them.

Crichton brought up his own hand, but instead of taking his shirt he took her wrist. She startled faintly and looked at him, curious, but didn't pull away. She could defeat this human in hand-to-hand fighting if she had to, so she had the luxury of taking the chance to see what John was doing, odd behavior or no.

Crichton pulled the shirt from her grip, dropping it to the floor again and pulling her hand closer to him, resting her palm against the left side of his chest. Aeryn frowned, moments from asking what he was doing, when Crichton nearly whispered, "Here... it's not letting me stop, it's making me... and I have to move."

Aeryn wasn't sure what he meant until she let herself notice that which Crichton had obviously intended her to understand. She felt it under her hand and beneath his skin, a heart hammering faster than it was meant to. She knew Crichton's pulse-rate, he'd taught her CPR and how to find his carotid, but she had never felt it when it was racing like this.

She frowned, looking down at her hand against his expanding and contracting chest, the heat from his body almost enough to sicken her and make her Sebacean skin crawl (pushing away something inside her that was excited by that same stimuli). Most everyone had been acting a little peculiar lately, but nothing like this. The rest of them were short-tempered, but not ill... there was something seriously wrong with Crichton.

Crichton seemed to read what Aeryn was thinking on her face, because he dipped his head ever so faintly closer and said lowly, "I'm not sick, I actually feel pretty damn good," he gave her an almost wicked smile, shifting away to step around her, moving to stand behind her shoulder and whisper in her ear, "I can feel my blood pounding, every muscle in my body," his lips brushed her earlobe, "it feels good, strong... but it's almost too much, more than I can deal with, exercising is all I can do to work this off."

Aeryn tried not to seem affected with the human's odd behavior and closeness when something told her to play back, asking, "Or what would happen?" Even despite her attempts at self-control, there was invitation in her voice.

Crichton laughed throatily, licking his lips before he answered, "It feels like the answer to that would be 'explode'."

Aeryn turned to face him, startled to find a clearly predatory look on John's face. It seemed remarkably out of place on John but yet oddly fitting all at the same time. A natural instinct in her told her to reciprocate, to fight him, but she resisted that at great efforts and said, "I think you should see Zhaan, let her look at you."

Crichton's eyes flashed and his brow knitted, his response terse when he asked, "Why? I told you I feel fine," even when Aeryn suspected that wasn't completely true. Crichton was notorious for telling Aeryn things he kept from the others, and he'd shown her that something wasn't right with him. Even if he was denying it to himself, he must have known on some level that there was something wrong... enough for him to have Aeryn feel his misbehaving heart.

Aeryn glowered, "You're not fine, you're shaking," and almost of its own accord her hand ventured forward and brushed down his bare arm. Crichton glanced down at his own body, seeing what Aeryn did... his muscles quivering with a combination of exhaustion and desire to be pushed to their limits once again... standing still was driving him mad even if his mind hadn't noticed.

Crichton stepped away, fishing his shirt off the floor and almost snarling, "Leave me alone, Aeryn, I'm fine... I don't need a doctor or a Delvian or your token concern... I just need to..."

"To what?"

Crichton sighed in frustration, turning away from her and refusing to answer as he donned his sweat-spotted shirt.

Aeryn stepped toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder and beginning, "John..."

Crichton reacted faster than Aeryn anticipated, caught her too off-guard to be prepared for what a back part of her mind knew he was going to do the moment his muscles starting working to execute the maneuver.

Crichton grabbed Aeryn's offending hand, shifted his center of gravity, and using his hip as a wedge flipped her over his shoulder on to the mat. Helpless with her weight and mass used against her, she could only cushion her blow when she landed flat on her back before Crichton.

Aeryn blinked, surprised, but within microts was back on her feet and facing John, stunned at what he'd done but also infuriated. It made her irate that he had momentarily bested her with a technique she taught him, and even more so that she'd allowed it to happen. He would not go unpunished for that small treachery.

Crichton was facing her, lowered into a fighting stance she had also shown him. He was pushing this fight, one he had no chance of winning. That didn't seem to bother him, though, as his lips cracked in a grin as he shifted on his feet, ready for an attack. Crichton was typically never one to enjoy their sparring matches the way Aeryn did, but today John seemed excited to have a fighting partner. His muscles rippled under glistening skin, a sudden awareness of his physique hitting Aeryn like a pantak jab. The idea of advancing on that body was not all together unappealing... not in the least.

Aeryn slowly began to smile in return when the comms interrupted them, "Officer Sun, Commander Crichton."

Both combatants relaxed from their ready positions, Crichton wiping at the sweat on his face while Aeryn answered regretfully, "Yes, Pilot?"

"We are receiving a communications from D'Argo, please come to the command at once."

Aeryn nodded, "We're on our way, Pilot," and looked at John, who was watching her. Aeryn moved toward the cargo bay door, stopping next to him and warning lowly, "You will pay for that later, Crichton, mark my words."

Crichton only grinned devilishly again, following Aeryn down the corridor toward command, perhaps a little closer than he needed to, but Aeryn reacted to that only with a look over her shoulder at him once.



****



"We are all here, D'Argo, what is your status?" Zhaan asked the image of Ka D'Argo on the forward view screen once Aeryn and John walked in. Chiana was still missing of course, but they had not bothered to hold up the meeting to find her... if Pilot was having trouble then it would be a long delay if they waited until she was found to speak to D'Argo.

D'Argo looked around the room, noting those present, and spoke, "We've presented our case the Metlen authorities and they are deliberating on the merit of our proposal. They asked for a crew manifest and Rygel told them that Aeryn was also a human... he's explaining now how a species could look like Sebaceans but not be of their race. Sorry, Aeryn, but there was no other option."

Aeryn's jaw ground, but she said nothing.

D'Argo, seeming quite jovial and in nothing of the bad mood when he left Moya, continued, "We haven't worked out trades yet, but Rygel is hoping we can pay for our refuge with Moya's services as cargo ship while we are in their space. I'll talk with Pilot later on the specifics, we've also negotiated food exchanges. There is one matter... a Metlen representative wants to board Moya for an inspection."

"What?" Crichton blurted out, moving closer to the screen until he stood before Aeryn and Zhaan, crossing his arms as he stated, "No way."

D'Argo frowned, obviously confused (no doubt having been certain his tough customer to sell would be Aeryn) and he said, "Crichton, it's standard procedure and they won't let us enter their space without it."

Crichton glowered hotly, "I don't want them on the ship."

Zhaan interrupted, speaking over Crichton's shoulder, "We will of course receive the Metlen representative, D'Argo."

D'Argo nodded, casting another questioning glance at Crichton before saying, "He should arrive at Moya in four arns." Then, with a last conference with Pilot about the ship soon to be approaching Moya, he broke the communications' connection, the view screen image being replaced by space and the curve of the moon they kept a reasonable distance from.

Crichton turned on Zhaan, livid, "What was that? You don't know anything about who they want to send up."

Zhaan said calmly, "We have no choice as D'Argo has said, John. We will take every precaution as always."

Aeryn smirked at Crichton, "What are you upset about, I'm the one who has to pass for an inferior species."

Crichton snapped back to no one in particular, ignoring Aeryn's comment and simultaneous jab at the human race, "If they expect us to be relieved of our weapons they can forget it, we'll run again before we disarm," and moved past Zhaan, slowing as he brushed beside her, downturning his eyes in her direction before striding toward the command's door. As he walked past Aeryn, his fingers ventured out and ran against her arm in an almost unconscious touch, to which Aeryn inclined her head to acknowledge his contact, then quickly was gone.

Aeryn considered bringing up her concerns for Crichton with Zhaan, but they had more to worry about at the moment. When they had secured safety in the Metlen space they could take the time for themselves, but for now the greater good took precedence.

Aeryn left command, not sure where she was going and finding herself heading toward the cargo bay... almost as if she'd thought Crichton might have returned there. What she couldn't understand is why she thoughtlessly went after him.



****



Crichton roamed through the upper tiers of Moya, searching. He didn't know what brought him up here, especially when a stranger was about to come aboard Moya and he had better things to do with his time, but he'd been drawn up here... and now he was compelled to look for something.

The upper tiers were largely unused on Moya. If she had a larger crew or was in use as a fully stocked cargo ship, they might have been fully powered up, but as the neglected attic the power and resources for crew support were minimal so far in Moya's extremes.

The darkened halls sent Crichton's heart quickening, pushing him to look harder, maybe even hunt or stalk.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew when one direction wasn't right. He corrected and continued, following his gut. It led him to a wall access panel whose cover had been removed. Something alerted him to life hiding inside, almost as though he could feel the disturbance the body caused in the vibrations in the air.

Crichton moved closer, bending down to look into the access wall panel.

Chiana was curling in on herself, knees drawn to her chest. She didn't so much startle as sag when she saw Crichton peek in at her. She didn't look too good, but not really in a sickly or exhausted way. She just somehow didn't look like her normal self.

"Chi."

Chiana frowned, twitching her head and pulling her knees in closer, "Crichton."

John's brow furrowed and he faintly tilted his head to one side, then extended a hand to her, "Come with me."

Chiana hesitated a moment, then carefully took Crichton's offered hand and unfurled her legs, stepping out into the hallway. It brought her face to face with Crichton, their bodies almost insanely close.

John couldn't take his attention off of her, no matter what he did or tried. Her hair tickled his nose as he breathed in, aware of everything about the young woman before him. Her shape, mass, smell, texture, coloring, heat... and something more carnal that had always been there, but now seemed intensified, turned up four or five notches. Crichton couldn't not see her the way she usually liked to be looked at.

Chiana shied away, pulling free her hand. Crichton's reflex took him a step after her, not willing her the slightest retreat, but he caught himself and began, "Zhaan and the others are worried about you, where did you..." but trailed off when Chiana averted her eyes, making Crichton notice the line of her neck and the shadows it laid play on her monochrome skin. He saw now the exotic flavor so many others had in the past.

Chiana took another half-step away, evasive, "I need to talk to Zhaan."

John watched her a moment, then just nodded and escorted her (closely) down toward the lower tiers.



****



Zhaan studied the girl sitting on her apothecary table, trying to remain sensitive even as she clarified the true impact of what Chiana had told her.

"You are the reason for the others behaving so strangely?"

Chiana ducked her head, hands close to her body and legs deceptively still for someone who usually had so much energy. Now she was meek and reserved.

Chiana's voice was small as she answered, "I tried to stay away from the others. I thought I could handle this without causing any... trouble."

Zhaan stepped closer, touching Chiana's arm to reassure her, "Sweet child, this is a natural function of your reproductive cycle. It is not your fault and certainly we would not blame you for what you could not help."

Chiana cocked her head, still not looking up. "Crichton found me."

Zhaan nodded, dropping her hand and saying, "He has been more acutely affected than Aeryn, the reason for which I now understand is the significance of his gender. For all the jests we make about his dull human senses it seems they were adequate enough to track you down."

Chiana wrapped her arms around her, glancing toward the room's doorway, "He keeps walking by."

Zhaan looked out into the currently empty hallway, "How do you know this?"

Chiana bit her lip, "I can sense him, too. Smell him down the hall, almost a metra away... D'Argo too, but I haven't in solar days..."

"D'Argo is off the ship right now, as is Rygel."

Chiana seemed to visibly relax at that, finally looking up at Zhaan and meeting her eyes. If told this might happen weekens ago she would not have believed it, but she had seen the effect the pheromones Chiana was emitting and had to recognize its severity. D'Argo might have inadvertently hurt her in some instinctive frenzy, but John... Crichton could never harm Chiana. Beyond everything he was built and molded by hardships to be, John Crichton was inherently gentle.

Zhaan thought a moment, then asked, "I trust then you do not wish D'Argo to return to the ship?"

Chiana's eyes widened and she shook her head, suddenly looking toward the door, attention locked with single-minded focus.

Zhaan glanced quickly toward the door, seeing John standing outside on the far side of hall, watching them. Zhaan's frown was enough to send him on his way... for now. Zhaan could not really blame him, either... animals were strongly ruled by such forces as the mating drive, a prerogative as a plant she did not have to deal with so overwhelmingly.

Chiana continued after a moment, "It's not just me, and D'Argo I mean, but it's John. I don't want to see them hurt."

Zhaan nodded, "I agree with you. If D'Argo returned to Moya he and Crichton might well engage in combat over you. It might also be a good precaution to keep Rygel off the ship for now, too. I would suggest we send Crichton elsewhere until this has passed, but I'm afraid the Metlen would not welcome him looking so much like a Peacekeeper as he does and with two of ours off the ship we can't move away to another location where Crichton could be taken off the ship."

Chiana shrugged, "I... don't mind Crichton."

Zhaan smiled gently. Chiana did try to put up such an independent, strong front, but when she was frightened and very much her tender age she sought out John. He was able to make her feel better when she was in desperate need of comforting... actually, John did that for everyone on Moya. His presence might help to calm her, although with the strange behavior around the ship lately it might just make things worse.

"Do you want me to keep this in confidence?" Zhaan asked.

Chiana thought a moment, then shook her head. This was so obvious to the crew that they might as well know the specifics. Zhaan nodded, patting Chiana on the knee and saying, "You're welcome to stay in here if you wish," and moved out of the apothecary to find the John and Aeryn.



****



Aeryn's expression was almost describable as mild disgust or maybe annoyance, but she kept any accompanying comments to herself.

Crichton, sitting beside her in the center chamber, was speechless for a long time before he looked up at Zhaan and asked, "Chi's in heat?"

Zhaan cocked her head, trying to make sense of the expression, then nodded, "Yes, I believe we're talking about the same condition."

"And she's the reason D'Argo and Crichton were at each other like two Rolian Sepnits."

Zhaan nodded, while Crichton at the same time grumbled, "I don't know what those are, and I can't speak for D'Argo, but I'm not some rutting buck."

Aeryn cast Crichton an equally confused look, then asked the Delvian, "Are you going to keep her in isolation?"

Zhaan held up her hands fractionally, "I would tend to her in that manner if she wanted me to, but against her will I have no intention of confining her."

Aeryn frowned, apparently thinking the girl should be locked up whether she wanted to be or not.

John rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully with his thumb, bitting the pad before saying, "I don't want her locked up."

Aeryn's eyes blazed and she quipped, "No, I suppose you wouldn't."

Crichton glowered at Aeryn, but Zhaan spoke before either of them could, "As long as Crichton remains the only male on the ship, Chiana's condition should pass harmlessly for everyone. The most extreme possibility is that Crichton will..."

"Whoa, just hold up there, Blue. That isn't going to happen. So the plan is this will blow over, and then everything will be peaches and cream?"

Aeryn and Zhaan looked at one another, neither certain what Crichton meant, but John directed the conversation elsewhere in the next two microts.

"How long we got until that Metlen guy gets here?"

"Pilot?" Zhaan asked softly.

Pilot's image appeared, "Half an arn now. However, I could notify the Metlen authorities that we have a medical situation on board..."

"No," Crichton interjected. "The longer we stay out here with our asses out in the wind the more danger there is of Peacekeepers spotting us. Let's just get this over with and get hidden."

Pilot nodded, working his controls, "I shall prepare to receive the Metlen ship."



****



The pressurization cycle was still hissing behind the hangar bay doors, reestablishing an atmosphere that the newly docked ship's occupant could breathe which had necessarily been vented when the external hangar doors were opened to space. Aeryn, Zhaan, and Crichton stood on the other side of the door, waiting for their guest to arrive. They had left their weapons in quarters as a show of peaceful intentions. Even knowing that he was in fact behaving irrationally due to a chemical reaction, Crichton had protested even louder than Aeryn about ditching the guns... it had taken both of them to convince him to go along with the plan.

Crichton had a feeling and his razor-sharp attention on the sealed hangar doors wavered and was lost as he looked over his shoulder toward the maintenance bay door... seeing Chiana walking toward them.

She gravitated, a predilection both natural to her in any normal situation as well as prodded by instinctive forces now to do so. She went to Crichton's side.

"You sure you wanna be here, Pip?" John asked softly, looking down at her hovering by his shoulder and noticing his angle allowed for a very provocative view of Chiana's more not-so-concealed regions.

Chiana half-smiled, "I'm not crippled, you know."

Crichton smirked, favoring toward her, secretly catching a whiff of her scent, and when reminded of the stranger about to board their ship overcome with an almost maddening determination to protect her. He rationalized it as nothing that he wouldn't do anyway, just maybe more strong this time.

Aeryn broke into their private circle, 'almost' gently shoving Chiana aside and putting herself between Crichton and the Nebari, "Might not be a good idea, why don't you stand over there?"

Crichton was, for a microt, furious. He looked down at Aeryn's back indignant, while Chiana rocked to and fro ever so slightly on the balls of her feet... Chiana's typical 'bring it on' stance. She was ready and willing to fight for the right to stand by him.

Aeryn wasn't impressed with the display, "Leave, Chiana."

Crichton said quickly, "Don't move a step, Chi."

Chiana looked up at him and there was assent in her eyes and her rocking stopped. She would do as he said and frell Aeryn if she didn't like it. She stood just where Aeryn had managed to forcefully move her, by no means far from John and still confrontationally close to Aeryn.

It might have drug on if there'd been time, but the cycling run ended and the pressure seal on the hangar doors released. Aeryn turned to face the door, stepping into Crichton until he could feel one of her clothed breasts brushing against his forearm. Chiana two feet away or not, he was thoroughly distracted for the moment by the former Officer Sun.

The Metlen representative strode into the maintenance bay, looking amongst those standing to greet him. He was not so alien looking that John couldn't recognize that he was a mammal, humanoid, healthy... and the male of his species. Crichton bristled.

Zhaan gave her customary Goddess welcome, "Greeting, Trey Mett. I am Pa'u Zhaan."

The Metlen nodded at her fleetingly, voice deceptively kind for such a brawny, muscular creature, "The pleasure besieges me to greet your male-speaker, female. I have spent time with your Luxan and Hynerian, they insist you are peaceful and seek no quarrel within our space." His tone told it all, by speaking to her at all he was indulging the priestess.

Zhaan nodded, "That is so, Trey Mett."

Trey Mett looking around, eyes landing on Crichton immediately. Without a word to Zhaan he strode toward John. Crichton should have anticipated that he would have to deal with this visitor, the Metlen respecting women as little as they did, but he'd had other things on his mind. The confrontation now was one he'd not been prepared for and fought to hold his composure.

Trey Mett stopped in front of Crichton a few good paces, glancing briefly and maybe a bit approvingly at the two females tucked close around the Sebacean-looking male, and said, "You are the Sebacean who is not... I see you and I think you are a Peacekeeper, how can I tell my eyes what they see is wrong?"

Crichton had a fleeting moment of panic which told him instantly to lash out and attack, but collected himself quickly... and after so much practice he'd gotten good at not revealing initial 'what the frell' reactions. "The Delvian is our doctor, she can show you medical proof I'm not a Sebacean."

Trey Mett glanced at Aeryn, "And that female?"

Crichton didn't miss a beat, "She's a female, she's of no concern... my tests will be enough."

Trey Mett nodded complete agreement, not even really noticing Aeryn seething, and asked, "And you are the male of these females?"

"Yes."

Zhaan moved forward, not bothering to address the Metlen, "John, perhaps we should begin."

Crichton nodded, turning and waiting until Zhaan, Aeryn, and Chiana had passed before him before leading the way, Trey Mett trailing behind.



****



"You have never been aboard a Leviathan before?" Aeryn asked incredulously of the Metlen as they stood in the room accessing Moya's neural nexus on the seventh tier. Peaceful species or not, no one was going to let the Metlen wander unchaperoned through Moya.

Trey Mett shook his head, "Never, female, but I have heard about them many times," Trey Mett moved casually toward the wall to examine the wiring/vein work in curiosity. His path took him close to Aeryn and Crichton moved on it. Smoothly, he moved toward them and slid in between Aeryn and the Metlen, facing the strange alien squarely and all but forcing him to adjust his course a little. The Metlen had no doubt gotten used to it. The entire tour down the ship's corridors, the Metlen was not permitted near the females, the Pseudo Sebacean male didn't allow it, keeping wordlessly always between Trey Mett and whichever female, blue, gray, or flesh-toned, happened to be in the greatest threat of contact with him at the time.

The Metlen seemed not to notice, stepping aside to avoid John and Aeryn, and asking, "And this ship would consent to serve us as a cargo transport in exchange for you stay in our space?"

Crichton nodded, "It's what she was designed for, and the Pilot has agreed to the trade service."

Trey Mett turned in his spot to face the group while Crichton took a step closer.

Trey Mett nodded, "My people shall run your tissue sample and discover if you are in fact not a Peacekeeper. If so, then we will grant you entrance into our space."

Crichton let Zhaan do the thank yous and you're so kinds... he wasn't in the mood for it, he just wanted the Metlen off the ship.

Trey Mett turned, moving toward the exit. He passed by Chiana standing near the doorway in doing so, and stopped casually enough to address her.

"We have a Nebari..." he lifted a hand to indicate the young woman, but any further words were lost on his cartilage/lips.

Crichton jumped forward the microt Trey Mett lifted his hand to Chiana, grabbing it in a strong vice and shoving the alien roughly to the floor. The Metlen was taken off guard by the attack, blinking up at Crichton from the deck questioningly in surprise.

Crichton stood protectively between Chiana and the Metlen, primed for a fight.

Zhaan gaped, as did Aeryn for a microt, then the Delvian moved swiftly forward. "I am so sorry, Trey Mett," she began when she reached the trio, intending to go to Trey Mett and help him, but Crichton grabbed her arm and held her back, pulling her to stand a few steps behind him before he let her go.

Trey Mett stood on his own, still uncertain what had happened.

Zhaan looked at John in frustration, then decided to appease from her apparently approved distance, "I apologize, Trey Mett, this was a misunderstanding I assure you. I plead with you not to let it affect your decision to grant us passage."

Trey Mett seemed to be a staring contest with Crichton, though if staring meant hostility in a Metlen was anyone's guess, then he shook himself off, "I will return to my people and we will confer on everything I have seen here."

It wasn't worth the fight or risk of further incident against their chance for safety with the Metlen... Aeryn, Chiana, and Zhaan all took the initiative and followed after Crichton toward the hangar bay, letting him maintain his position between the women of Moya and the Metlen representative.



****



"This is outrageous, unacceptable!" D'Argo's image on the forward view screen raged large, blown up twice the natural size of the Luxan and seeming to amplify his anger.

Zhaan grimaced internally at the Luxan's anger, "D'Argo, please, it was not Crichton's fault..."

"Not Crichton's fault? How is attacking a diplomat not his fault?"

Zhaan folded her hands, willing calm from the Goddess to attend her, "He is not himself, D'Argo, he was not responsible for his actions."

"Oh yes, that's right," Rygel's irate little voice from somewhere behind D'Argo chimed in, "excuse him any responsibility for perhaps frelling our chances with the Metlen! And they had invited us to dine with them..."

Zhaan sighed, "I have spoken with the Metlen officials and explained that territorial behavior of this nature is a species trait among humans... it may in fact persuade them further that John is not a Sebacean."

D'Argo snarled to himself, then took a moment. While still a hot temper, D'Argo had gotten better in the past few monens at controlling his anger... to a point.

When he was somewhat calmed, he asked, "What is wrong with him?" There was real concern in the Luxan's voice, for even the mighty D'Argo knew this was not like John, Crichton never senselessly attacked anyone, not even people who deserved it. And though at times the veracity of it was tenuous, D'Argo considered the human his friend.

Zhaan spoke gently, "We have something of a... medical situation aboard Moya. It has effected everyone's behavior outside myself, Pilot, and Moya."

"What kind of situation?"

Zhaan hesitated, wondering how she might divert the Luxan and suspecting she couldn't. She'd not wanted to have to explain this to D'Argo, he might do something about it that would ultimately be foolish... he was not good at thinking things through before he charged in.

"Zhaan..." Pilot's voice interrupted.

"Yes, Pilot?" she asked, grateful for the distraction... a diversion that soon proved to be a mirage.

"Officer Sun and Chiana are... ahh, on the cusp of entanglement."

Zhaan sighed haggardly, "I will be there as soon as I can," and turned to D'Argo once more. She had no time to dance around the answer. "It seems that Chiana has come into a state of sexual receptivity and her condition has been... affecting the mammalian members of this crew."

D'Argo's face went through a kaleidoscope of emotions, then he asked in a dangerously low voice, "What exactly do you mean by 'affecting'?"

"Crichton has become, as you know, aggressive and possessive, Aeryn has been restless and agitated and turning on Chiana, and Chiana has... well, her biology is working well to further her natural goal."

D'Argo's face grew stormy, "I shall come back immediately to help control them."

"D'Argo, no! Please, I beg you and Rygel to both stay on the moon until this has passed. We cannot afford to have more than one male aboard Moya right now, you saw what happened when there's not."

D'Argo looked as if he wanted to snap back that he could fend for himself, but Zhaan cut him off, "You would suffer the same effects if you returned to the ship and Crichton in his state would not back down from you. Be sensible, Ka D'Argo."

D'Argo caught Zhaan's meaning. Fahrbot as it sounded, it was in his best interest to avoid a fight with the human. He would not enjoy the guilt of having grievously injured his comrade when the battle-rage passed, and when properly motivated the human had shown himself to be surprisingly resilient and dangerous when he had to be.

D'Argo sighed, "All right, Zhaan, we'll stay..." Zhaan muttered to herself "thank the Goddess", and D'Argo threw in, "but I want to know what is going on."

"I shall keep you informed, I promise, but at the moment I must prevent Aeryn from injuring Chiana."



****



The center chamber was tensely quiet, the two adversaries facing each other near the food cube dispenser... neither budging. Aeryn stood with her back to the doorway, feet shoulder-width apart and split-microts away from flinching into a fighting stance.

Chiana faced her, nearly crouched and swaying deceptively slow on her feet. Chiana wanted by and Aeryn wasn't going to let her through.

After the incident with the Metlen, Crichton had decided to confine himself to quarters. Zhaan and the rest of the entourage had accompanied him, the Delvian disturbed when once inside he began pacing the perimeter of the room.

Aeryn had immediately made clear her intentions to stay, to keep a watch that Chiana kept clear of him. Chiana had vehemently lobbied to be able to stay near his quarters... Zhaan had had no choice but to escort both of them elsewhere. That was when D'Argo had commed and she'd been taken away from her guard duties. She'd dumped them both in the center chamber and told Pilot to keep a DRD on them.

Chiana had moved around the room, forced to keep to the back end when Aeryn set up a boundary by blocking Chiana from getting closer to the door.

The Nebari had finally tired of the watch and tried to leave, Aeryn stopped her... and that's where they were left, facing one another.

Chiana's fingers flexed and twitched, "Get the frell out of my way, Aeryn."

Aeryn shook her head, "Not a chance, Chiana."

Chiana glowered, stiffening to pounce. Aeryn moved into an attack stance, waiting for her.

Crichton came running in, taking in the scene for a microt before grabbing Aeryn's arms and hauling her back. Aeryn startled and tried to fight at first, eyes still locked on Chiana and inviting the fight they'd nearly started despite what was happening to her. Crichton held her tighter and angled her toward the wall, pinning her against it face first with the whole of his body and saying lowly, "Stop it, Aeryn."

Aeryn stilled at his voice, not fighting him but making no request for him to release her either.

Crichton brought his face closer to her, using his chin to move aside a swatch of black hair as he whispered, "Pilot commed me that you two were going to cat fight, now stop it. She's not as good a fighter as you, you know that. You could really hurt her."

Aeryn smiled at the thought, inciting Crichton to push into her harder, leaving her no room or give to shift between him and the wall.

Crichton's brain was a fog, pierced only by the reality right against him. Aeryn's hair, fluttering with the rhythm of his breaths, her form expanding and contracting rapidly against his chest as she breathed, the solid touch of her body, her smell so frelling close...

Zhaan came into the center chamber, halting to look around the room. Chiana all but trembling in some strange combination of rage and carnal excitement in the center of the room, John with Aeryn pinned to the right wall, looking for all the world like he was smelling her.

"This is madness," Zhaan said, bringing everyone out of their tunnel vision perspectives and back to reality. Chiana blinked and looked over at Zhaan, Aeryn's vision clearing as she looked away while dipping her head, and Crichton hesitantly, with great effort and a lingering presence, stepped back from Aeryn.

Zhaan moved to Chiana, taking her by the arm and moving her further away from Crichton and Aeryn, "We must come up with a better way of dealing with this."

Crichton looked among the three women, still fighting to come out of his stupor, and blurted out, "You have to lock us up."

"What?" Aeryn demanded.

"All of us," Crichton pressed, looking to Zhaan for a voice of reason.

Zhaan frowned, "It seems that it is perhaps the only viable option."

Aeryn glowered, "I will not be locked up, I'm not the one trying to..."

Zhaan interrupted the ex-Peacekeeper, "Crichton is right, this has escalated beyond our willful means to contain. We can only pray that this has reached its zenith and shall soon abate."

Crichton shook himself, having caught himself staring at Chiana (who'd been staring back), and nodded, "Amen to that."



****



Zhaan felt wretched for acting the prison guard (a reversal of roles to a play she never wished to revisit) as she moved through quarters, checking first with Crichton. He no longed paced, thank Kahalen, but instead was lying flat on his back on his bed with eyes closed... perhaps trying to meditate the condition away, because anyone could tell from the strain in his neck muscles and the flick of unpleasant expressions on his face that he was not asleep. He seemed not to even notice Zhaan when she stopped in to see if he was all right. Satisfied with this status, she moved down the hall until she reached Aeryn's quarters. Confinement did not suit the Sebacean and she gave Zhaan one of the ugliest, darkest glares she had ever unleashed upon anyone on the ship. Zhaan frowned, sorry it had come to this, and moved on to the last patient. Chiana was up and at the door the microt Zhaan neared, head cocking as she asked in a small voice, "They okay?"

Zhaan nodded.

Chiana twitched her head in the other direction, "I didn't mean to cause such dren, you know?"

Zhaan nodded, "We know, child, this is not your fault. It will be over soon enough, and as Crichton would say, 'one day we'll look back on this and laugh'."

Chiana hiccuped a giggle, running her tongue over her teeth and muttering, "Yeah, he would say that, wouldn't he?"

Zhaan smiled, touching Chiana's shoulder through the bars of the door, "Rest, child," and with one last serene nod moved off down the hallway.



****



Crichton was trying to think of gross things; his Aunt's jello molds, raw sewage, dead animals, men... nothing was helping. He kept imagining Chiana seductively eating spoonfuls of that disgusting jello, Chi bathing the vile sewer water off her, and the dead animals conjured up images of Aeryn standing over her prey radiant in her leathers and her pulse pistol in hand, and the men... he saw either Aeryn kicking their asses in that hot way of hers or Chiana working her magic on them (wherein the guy in that scenario had the unfortunate habit of turning into HIM).

It was the absolute last straw when one of the bathing beauty reels starred a blue figure rather than gray or peach-colored.

Crichton flung out his arms in frustration and spoke aloud, "Han Solo never had this problem... or Captain Kirk, hell, the family from Lost in Space didn't. Why does it always have to happen to me, out here in the ass-end of the frelling universe? What is wrong with all of you?" he asked aloud to the ceiling.

He closed his eyes again, frowning when the door to his cell whispered open.

He kept his eyes closed, "I don't need a check-up, Zhaan, but if you have a tranquilizer handy..."

"Well, I don't have anything like that, but I might have something better."

Crichton's eyes flew open and he jerked up in bed, looking over at Chiana standing playfully in the middle of his room.

"Chi..." he inched back on his bed away from her, "what are you doing here?" He moved to get off the bed.

"Don't," Chiana said sweetly, moving closer, "don't get up."

Crichton froze, watching her move toward him. "You're supposed to be, umm... uh..."

Chiana laughed softly, "I snuck out, tricked out the lock," then smiled proudly, like a girl waiting for her prize.

Crichton blinked, noticing that she'd moved VERY close to his bed and he'd still not moved from it, "Zhaan, uh... don't you think... maybe we should, umm... get her?"

Chiana moved on to her knees on the edge of Crichton's bed, dropping on to her hands and crawling toward him, "Whatever you want, if that gets you hot, but Zhaan's not really my type."

Crichton almost laughed, might have if Chiana weren't three inches from his face.

"This might not be... such a good idea."

Chiana cant her head, mouth teasingly close to John's as she swayed and whispered, "Well, I thought about that, and I thought... why isn't it?"

"What?"

Chiana moved forward for just a half-microt, only long enough to dart out her tongue and lick Crichton's agape lips. She rocked back to her three-inch distance and asked, "Why is this a bad idea?"

"Well, um... because you, and you're... we're, you know..." somewhere in that deep-throated stammering, he'd leaned forward toward her. He didn't stop his blabbering until it was to capture Chiana's mouth with his.

Chiana shuffled forward without losing their kiss, throwing one leg over his hips and straddling him. Crichton reached behind her and pulled her closer, drawing the kiss deeper.

Chiana broke the kiss, pulling away to trail her nose down his neck, centimeters from his skin and smelling him. Crichton made a formless noise in his throat, tilting his head aside to allow her access.

Chiana got to his shirt and brought up a hand, tugging the material aside to expose more of John's flesh. As she had done with his neck, she brushed her face along his skin, breathing of him.

Crichton closed his eyes, mind spinning and something inside him screaming, almost like Tarzan. His brain was rapid firing, gathering all the stimuli impulses from his body, putting it together into a mini movie in his mind. An alarm went off when the cascade of black hair around him did not register with his body's reports.

"Chi, Chi, Chi, wait," Crichton opened his eyes and pulled back, gently and hastily pushing her away. Chiana shifted to the bed, looking at him quizzically, confused, eyes still clouded in a passion haze.

Crichton shuffled off the bed to his feet, backing away toward the wall and taking a deep breath. After his moment of epiphany that allowed him to resist her, a more carnal part of his brain told him 'ninety-nine out of a hundred... good enough'. Best keep his distance before he listened to himself.

"Chiana, look at us."

Chiana's lips, of their own accord, started to upturn in a sensual smile.

"No, no, no... not like that, look at us. LOOK at what we're doing."

Indecision flashed in her dark eyes, and she looked around his quarters as though not sure how she'd gotten there.

Crichton wanted to move forward, old patterns telling him to touch her for comfort, but kept himself away. He knew if he got closer it would end badly. Instead he said from his place six feet away, "We can't do this. I know you want to, frell I want to too, but this isn't us. What happens tomorrow if we give in today?"

Chiana, for a moment, looked scared.

Crichton's muscles were shaking and he couldn't stop them. He stepped back farther and sat down on the shelf against Moya's wall where he stored his clothes to steady himself. He felt like he'd just accomplished something near impossible, climbed a mountain or won a boxing match, all that was missing was the elation (the positive sensation).

Chiana shied off the bed meekly, withdrawing toward the quarters' door, "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be, Pip... I wish, well... you know. If it wouldn't frell things up, I'd wish."

Chiana nodded, swallowed, and palmed the door open, "If I don't leave now..."

He nodded shakily, "Yeah, I know... me too. Go."

Chiana retreated, closing the door behind her and disappearing down the hall.

It wasn't until she'd been gone ten minutes that Crichton could shake from his brain and his skin the smell of Chiana all over him. But when he did, finally, he was able to relax. He still wanted her, his other side was yelling at him for turning her away when she'd thrown herself at him, but intellectually he knew he'd done the right thing.

He'd controlled himself. Just when it seemed like everyone was out of control, he'd managed to go against his instincts. It was hard and he was spent, but it felt good.

Crichton got up and moved toward his bed, remnants of his stimulated imagination remembering the sight of a lithe gray girl upon it, his for the taking. He hesitated to push aside the carnal mental image, then climbed under the gold bed cover and pulled it up to his chin. Sleep was a bit slower in coming than usual, but at long last for the first time in days he did sleep.



****



Moya moved easily into Metlen space, turning to the prearranged coordinates for her first cargo pick up. Being free of the constant fear of Peacekeeper discovery even for a short time was well worth the employment as transport, she went forward to do so happily.



****



"John."

Crichton jumped, startled, and a furiously territorial quiver crawled down his spine at the voice behind him, but quickly enough it faded away. Its spurts were less intense and abated more quickly now, hopefully soon to be gone completely.

"Hey, D, how was the Metlen moon?"

D'Argo moved up beside Crichton to watch Moya's progress on one of the consoles, "Too pleasant, I wanted to kill someone just to stain their pretty floors. I grew sick of being so nice."

Crichton smirked, trying to put out of his mind that D'Argo was standing a bit too close for his tastes, "Yeah, while I was up here playing the nasty one."

D'Argo huffed in a semi-laugh, but said nothing else. Crichton's tone was edgy and sharp... he wasn't going to deny what had gone on aboard Moya while D'Argo and Rygel were gone, but he didn't want to talk about it, either. In typical Crichton-defense behavior, his response was to joke about it.

"I can watch this, you go on," D'Argo offered.

"Thanks, D'Argo," he moved to bring up a hand and pat the Luxan's shoulder, habit, but he wasn't quite ready (quite calmed or back to normal enough) to be so friendly yet to another of his own gender. He instead turned on his heels and moved out of command.



****



Crichton found himself at the doorstep of Zhaan's apothecary, not sure how he ended up there. He stood outside the barred doorway, watching the blue Delvian inside as she arranged her medicinal herbs and spices, humming to herself serenely.

He was unaware that Zhaan knew he was there until she stopped humming and asked softly, "Is there something I can help you with, John?"

Crichton startled, then quickly settled that agitated snake coiling in his stomach and waved his hand over the door control, sweeping aside the two door halves and moving into the aromatic room. An ease came over him... maybe he'd come here seeking her council and calming presence without realizing it.

"Is Chi okay?" he asked, perching on the edge of the table near the priestess.

Zhaan nodded, "She has nearly returned to the Chiana we all know. She came by a few arns ago to be checked, but since I believe has retreated again to Moya's upper tiers... I believe she still fears causing trouble."

Crichton smirked lightly, a little disturbed still by the notion that someone else could so easily bring out such a primal creature in him. Maybe slinking in the shadows of the upper tiers would be a good place for the Nebari youth for a few more days.

Zhaan smirked playfully, "Considering D'Argo's return to Moya, her actions might have been with foresight."

Crichton crossed his arms across his chest, commenting, "You weren't affected like the rest of us." It sounded almost like an accusation, like she'd possessed some secret for avoiding the effects and had not shared her knowledge... what bit of it that was not accusation was a scientist's pure curiosity.

Zhaan shook her head, "My biology is sufficiently different from yours, Aeryn's, and Chiana's that I was not affected. Moya's size probably rendered her immune to the comparatively small amount of chemicals Chiana's body was able to emit, which would explain Pilot's immunity, too, bonded to the Leviathan as he is."

Crichton nodded thoughtfully, then shook his head, chuckling in that self-deprecating tone that Crichton had made the crew quite familiar with, "I can't imagine how ridiculous we all looked to you."

Zhaan smiled, touching Crichton's arm affectionately, in the almost motherly way she had with everyone on Moya, "I have viewed it as a unique learning experience."

Crichton barked out a laugh. "Bluie, only you could turn what happened on Moya into an opportunity to broaden your understanding of animal biology."

Zhaan responded cryptically, gaze locked pointedly on her human companion, "I learned a great deal more about you as a species than I had come to understand in much of the time I've known you."

"Really... what kind of stuff?"

Zhaan smiled elusively, to which Crichton's own smile returned before he said, "You know what, never mind... I don't think I want to know."

They sat together in silence only for a few moments before Aeryn walked by the apothecary on her way to the maintenance bay. She glanced in at them (eyes resting a fraction of a microt more on Crichton than Zhaan), didn't so much as pause in her stride, and continued on her way.

Crichton had seen her and stood from his perch, "Well, she's back to her normal, cheery self," then nodded a good-bye to Zhaan before trotting out of the converted cell to catch up with Aeryn.

Zhaan shook her head, smiling, and returned to her self-assigned work. Things were back to what passed for normal aboard Moya.



END