Title: Carrier
Author: MissAnnThropic
E-Mail: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com
Spoilers: Soon after 'Durka Returns'
Summary: John contracts an Uncharted Territories flu-bug.
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 :(



Ex-Peacekeeper Officer Aeryn Sun moved her way through the other buyers and sellers on the commerce planet, keeping her eyes sharp for wanted beacons. They had been becoming more frequent lately, and when they stopped in orbit around this planet, they had sent Aeryn down to see if it was safe for any of the others to go down. The wanted beacons were for D'Argo, Zhaan, and Rygel as the escaped prisoners... John Crichton because of the interest he posed to Scorpius, which left Aeryn to go reconnaissance. Peacekeeper patrol might want her back to try and punish her for her defection, but that wasn't the kind of thing they sent out wanted beacons for.

Technically, the safest person to do this recon would have been Chiana, but no one trusted her to know what to look for. Aeryn was Peacekeeper... she knew where the beacons would be installed... and if things got 'hairy' as Crichton put it (though why hair could have anything to do with a situation was beyond anyone on Moya), Aeryn was best trained and equipped to get herself out of danger and back to Moya so they could escape.

Aeryn was lost in thought and attention focused for wanted beacons, that she did not see the Sebacean child until she was upon it. The two bumped into each other, and automatically Aeryn knelt down to right the child she'd bumped into. As little as a cycle ago, she would have brushed aside a child in the way... it had taken only that long to change her reaction to one of compassion.

The little girl coughed, covering her mouth and looking up at Aeryn's face. Aeryn and child stared at one another a moment, then the girl was overtaken by coughing again.

Aeryn frowned, touching the girl's face with her left hand, fingers lingering on her cheek as she looked around for the girl's mother.

The child lowered the hand covering her mouth, letting out one more feeble cough that brushed against Aeryn's left palm, then asked, "Are you a Peacekeeper?"

Aeryn looked at the child, then looked about again for her mother without deigning to answer. Surely a mother wouldn't leave a sick child alone.

"Mayla," a Sebacean woman pushed through the crowd toward them, reaching the two and picking up the little girl. The child hugged on to her mother's neck, wrapping her legs around her torso.

Aeryn stood.

The Sebacean woman also seemed to recognize Peacekeeper mannerisms and apologized rather coldly, "I'm sorry if she bothered you," and disappeared into the crowd with her coughing daughter.

Aeryn frowned, shook the thought off, then continued her search of the marketplace.

She stepped near a public bench when a wanted beacon came to life at her proximal motion, projecting the red-tinged image of Scorpius. Aeryn Sun frowned, watching the wanted list of her friends on Moya scroll through. After the prisoners Scorpius's likeness even gave a special section about John Crichton, along with an image that Aeryn had to wonder as to how they had procured it.

Aeryn sighed, turning away and moving back toward the town plaza center, "Pilot," she activated her comm badge.

"Yes, Officer Sun?"

"This planet has wanted beacons... the others can't come down."

Pilot sighed, "Understood, Officer Sun."

Aeryn knew as well as Pilot did that the others on the ship were getting restless confined with each other for such long periods of time. Some planet-time would have been just what they needed, but it was not to be on this planet right now. She could sympathize, but she couldn't condone taking foolish chances either.

She continued in her task-oriented tone, "I'll stay down to get the supplies we need."

"Of course..." Pilot cut the connection.



****



"Yo, Aeryn... get anything good?"

Aeryn shrugged aside Crichton's curiosity, dropping a small crate of foodstuffs on the maintenance bay floor. "Crichton, you're in the way."

John stepped back, but continued to stand near and look about at the items she'd bought with their limited currency. She pulled from the transport pod something black and mechanical. It screamed Peacekeeper.

"What's that?" he asked.

Aeryn sighed... when Crichton was bored he was twice the pest he normally was.

"A replacement part for my Prowler."

Crichton nodded, "Yeah, um... you needed to fix your left navigational thruster, right?"

Aeryn paused to collect what little calm she usually kept about herself, "That's right."

John nodded, shrugging, "Need any help?"

Aeryn looked incredulously at him, "Help... from you?"

Crichton smirked, "Come on, Aeryn... give me something to do... I'm about to climb the walls."

Aeryn grimaced in confusion at his words, shaking her head and shrugging, "Fine... you can help, or... watch."

John smiled, so thankful for a task that he let slide the implied jab at his ineptitude, "Great... why don't we get started?"

Aeryn looked around at the miscellaneous crates on the floor. Did he not see the mess they had? Then again, if she didn't indulge him he'd hover around her until she had to shout at him to go away and find someone else to bug.

She picked the lesser of two evils, "All right... come on."



****



Aeryn sat straddling the fuselage of her Prowler in front of the expose cockpit, watching Crichton as he sat on the edge of the cockpit canopy, leaning in to look at the controls and wires they were reconnecting. They had replaced the faulty thruster feed converter and had just begun to connect the wires for the new part to the control panels... when Crichton and his thousand questions reared their ugly head.

Aeryn sighed, berating herself for not knowing that this would happen... Crichton would question one to tears if he managed to corner them on a willing day.

She leaned over the cockpit, resting her left hand on the edge a short distance from where Crichton was sitting, "Crichton, can we just finish the repairs?"

Crichton frowned, unhappy, then asked hopefully as a distraction, "What does this red wire go to?"

Aeryn sat back, frustrated and gave him a pointed look.

Crichton saw Aeryn was reaching her limit of teacher-time and leaned forward, lowering his right hand to the exact place where Aeryn's left had just been. Using it for leverage, he shifted forward on the edge of the cockpit.

Aeryn glared faintly at him, "I have other things to do, Crichton."

John pursed his lips, bringing his right hand to his face and running his right thumb pensively over his bottom lip. After a pause of consideration, he lowered his hand, darted his tongue out to lick his lips, then sighed, "All right... I'll go."

Aeryn sighed in relief, "Thank you."

Crichton pouted at the gratitude with which she shed his company, giving her a very strange look before climbing down from the Prowler and moving toward the maintenance bay door to leave her in peace.

Aeryn watched after him, confused. What was that look about? How could he be upset with her, she'd gone along with his questions for nearly an arn?

Resigned once again to the simple conclusion that it was a human oddity, she slid off the nose of her Prowler, the repairs incomplete. She could finish it later, after she cleaned up the commerce venture mess in the hangar bay.



****



Crichton walked through the halls of Moya, not bored anymore... it was hard to be bored when he felt sick. And it wasn't exactly sick or exactly pain, but a strange mix between the two. He considered finding Zhaan to ask her if she had something, but he decided not to because whatever alien concoction she came up with had as much chance of making him feel worse as it did making him feel better. It wasn't Zhaan's fault, but being the first and only of your species in a strange place had its many disadvantages. There was never any certainty how John's human physiology would react to anything.

Which was probably what was wrong with him in the first place... no doubt he'd eaten something recently that his body did not agree with.

Trying to shrug off the discomfort, he decided to head back to the maintenance bay and see what Aeryn was up to. It had been an arn since he'd left her, and surely she was finished with whatever else she'd been doing and was working on her Prowler again. Her irritation at him hopefully had dissipated in that arn as well... although he wouldn't be a bit surprised if she was short with him again nevertheless.

A nagging pain sickened his gut again and, with a frown of discomfort, he headed back toward the maintenance bay.



****



Aeryn wasn't there, the Prowler still sitting untouched with its canopy opened just as they'd left it.

Crichton was surprised... surely Aeryn would have returned to her Prowler the first moment she had. But there it was, sitting unfinished as he'd left it an arn ago.

He was about to turn and head back to his quarters to stare at the wall (Leviathans might be incredible vessels but they had a major design flaw in not having a rec room in Crichton's opinion), but stopped as a thought occurred to him. If Aeryn wasn't working on her Prowler, then it must mean she was busy, and if she was busy then he could help her out. He'd seen her disconnect the old thruster converter, he could put the new one back together.

A small voice in his ear told him he shouldn't do it, but engulfing boredom and the desire for something to focus his attention away from how terrible he felt won out. 'Besides', he told himself, 'Aeryn hates tech work.'

Strolling past the work table and retrieving a tool, he pulled himself up to the Prowler canopy and got to work trying to reconnect the correct wires to the half-installed converter.



****



Aeryn Sun wiped a thin film of sweat from her brow, scowling at the blockage before her.

"Pilot... is that any better?" she huffed as she kneeled away from the ammnexus fluid block she'd been working to dislodge the last half arn.

Pilot checked his readings, "Yes... I believe that will do, Officer Sun... thank you."

Aeryn sighed, "You're welcome."

Pilot frowned in thought, wondering if he should tell Aeryn what Crichton had been up to in the maintenance bay the last quarter arn. The DRDs had come across Crichton working on Aeryn's Prowler alone, and Pilot knew instantly that the ex-Peacekeeper would not be pleased. He'd not said anything because Aeryn Sun was halfway through clearing the blockage, and of course Moya's health came first.

Since the health of the crew of Moya came second, he decided he should tell her what John was doing before he caused any more damage and incurred Aeryn's wrath.

"Officer Sun... the DRDs are showing me that Commander Crichton is in the maintenance bay working on your Prowler."

"What?" she snapped, quickly coming to full attention.

Pilot sighed, almost cringing for Crichton's sake, "I thought you might want to know; I assume you'd not given him permission."

Aeryn's face settled into a dark mask, "No, I didn't... thank you for telling me, Pilot." There was a bite to her words, and Pilot momentarily considered alerting Commander Crichton that Aeryn was headed his way and was upset... but ultimately tried to turn away from the internal conflict. Living a few cycles with these beings had taught Pilot that they typically had to stumble and fumble their way through their own problems.

Moya sensed Pilot's dilemma and together they marveled at the oddness of those aboard the ship. Pilot nodded to himself in agreement... Moya and he were the only stable members of this ragtag group... at least they would always have each other.



****



Crichton had screwed up the converter rewiring... a sharp shock and sizzle a while ago told him that much, but it was the least of his problems.

He felt like dren. He would have loved to get to Zhaan's apothecary... but at this point he wasn't sure he could make it. He felt that bad. His stomach burned and churned at the same time... he didn't know whether to curl up in pain or throw up.

He thought of calling for help, but strangely he hadn't. Instead he squatted on the floor near the Prowler's nose, hunkered over as he tried to find a position where his body hurt the least. His head swam as episodes of dizziness came and went, his forehead perspiring and his hands intermittently going numb. Whatever he'd eaten this time, he'd have to be sure to steer clear of it in the future... if he survived this time.

'So this', he thought, 'is Uncharted Territories food poisoning.'



****



Aeryn walked into the maintenance bay already furious... and the first thing that hit her as she came in was the smell of burnt wire.

Aeryn Sun, ex-Peacekeeper, was now out for blood.

"Crichton!" she practically bellowed, stomping into the bay toward her Prowler, knowing she'd find the meddling human there, frelling up her Prowler as much as he possibly could in any time allotted him.

She saw John Crichton there, just as she expected to find him, still near the scene of the crime with a tool in hand. The bizarre creature was on the floor... although that's where he would have been shortly if he hadn't already been there when she arrived.

Aeryn stormed up to the Prowler, "Frell, Crichton, what did you do?"

Crichton stood slowly, backing away from her with careful steps. "I... umm..."

Aeryn shot him a deadly glare, pulling herself up to the cockpit and looking inside... seeing that the new converter had been blown and was now useless.

Aeryn's anger flared bright.

She dropped down, turning to face Crichton, eyes narrowing. He backed up gently toward a cargo crate, leaning against it and dropping the tool he'd been holding.

"Is it so hard for you to stay away from my Prowler?! You frelling break everything you touch, John Crichton, you primitive deficient! I can't fly my Prowler missing a navigational thruster... if someone attacks us now you do realize you've frelled our one chance of protecting ourselves, don't you?"

Crichton grimaced, bent over, "Aeryn... I..."

Aeryn balled her fists to keep from hitting him... he was susceptible to a pantak jab, and if he was out cold she couldn't yell at him. Yell now, hit later.

"I've warned you to stay away from my Prowler, I told you you'd only break it, and your useless little human brain forgot that apparently and are you really surprised that you broke it!"

Crichton tucked lower, face strained and tight, free arm crossing his abdomen. His voice was weak as he struggled, "Aer... I... hel..."

"I've had it with you, Crichton! You stupid, inept... your species needs to be cleansed from our universe to save us all from frell-ups like you.

"What's the matter with you?"

Crichton blinked, bracing himself on the cargo crate beside him. He clutched his stomach, grimaced, then let out a gargled cough.

From his lips dribbled blood.

Aeryn's eyes grew wide, anger forgotten as she blinked, "John?"

Crichton went down on his knees, bracing himself on the floor with one arm and coughing with great pain... dripping more blood on to the floor.

Aeryn moved quickly toward him, touching her comm, "Zhaan, get down here, maintenance bay! It's Crichton!"

Pilot had already made the call for the nearest thing Moya had to a doctor, his DRDs having watched the entire confrontation... including Crichton vomiting blood.

Aeryn touched Crichton's back unsurely, her other hand coming to his shoulder and trying to pull him upright so she could see him. He groaned in protest and pulled away, heaving up a small pool of blood on to the maintenance bay floor.

Zhaan came running into the bay, "Goddess, what has happened?"

Aeryn stepped back, flustered, "I don't know... I came in here to... he just started spitting up blood."

Zhaan knelt beside Crichton's quickly balling form, asking in concern as she touched the side of his face, "Did he say he felt ill?"

Aeryn gaped a moment, then spoke, "I... don't know, he was trying to tell me something, but I wasn't listening. I was... yelling at him."

Zhaan's disappointment would have been palpable if she was not so concerned with Crichton. He was now lying on his side, lips dark red with his own blood and feverish eyes bright with pain.

Zhaan touched his forehead gently, "Goddess protect him, Aeryn, help me... I can't carry him alone."

Despite Crichton's grunts and groans of protest and pain as the two women handled him, they soon struggled with his weight toward the apothecary.

In the hallway, they were met by a charging D'Argo who slid to a stop, "What has happened? Pilot said John was hurt."

Zhaan breathed heavily in the effort to carry their patient, "We... my lab."

D'Argo nodded and reached forward, taking the human from their arms and easily hefting his weight. Crichton hissed in pain, clenched hands shaking as he wretched again and a trail of blood left his mouth and traveled down his neck. D'Argo glanced down at it while he quickly carried John after the women, "Hezmana... what is wrong with him?"

Zhaan frowned on the move, "I don't know... hurry."

In Zhaan's lab, D'Argo laid Crichton on the table. He quickly rolled on to his side and curled his legs up into his chest.

Zhaan grabbed a scanner, taking it back and moving it over Crichton's shivering body.

Aeryn lowered herself at Crichton's head, face etched with worry. Crichton looked up at her, eyes glassy and unfocused.

Zhaan's face frowned, "Something is eating away at the protective lining of his internal organs."

"Can you stop it?" D'Argo questioned loudly.

Zhaan thought a moment, going quickly to her medicines, "I may be able to keep ahead of the degradation with a cellular regeneration stimulant. If we can keep the protective lining cells in his body replicating to compensate, we may be able to buy some time."

Crichton coughed, flecking the table with droplets of blood.

"You better hurry, Zhaan," Aeryn frowned, her own face growing pale.

Zhaan returned with a syringe, a second's hesitation before depressing it against his arm.

Zhaan set the syringe aside, touching John's face again and thinking aloud, "The lining around all of his tissues is degrading, but the inner coating of his stomach is being eaten away the most rapidly... how to slow it down... Crichton once mentioned human stomach acids are particularly potent... strong, it must be those acids getting through the weakened protective coating and burning his stomach wall... how can we reduce the acidity..."

Aeryn and D'Argo looked helplessly at one another.

Zhaan looked up, "Henra cakes."

Aeryn frowned, "You're thinking about food NOW?"

Zhaan shook her head, "Henra cakes have a very high natural alkaline structure to them... maybe if we can get him to eat some it will reduce the acid concentration in his stomach, perhaps absorb its effect."

Aeryn and D'Argo gave each other questioning looks.

Zhaan snapped, "Well, do you have a better idea?"

D'Argo nodded, "Right... I'll go find some."

Aeryn frowned, touching Crichton's hot forehead, "Shouldn't we... do something about his temperature?"

Zhaan nodded, "Yes... you're right... lowering his body temperature may slow the condition."



****



Within twenty microns, they had Crichton surrounded by refrigeration packs, and after a number of failed attempts they had managed to get him to keep down a couple Henra cakes. Still, his condition was not good.

Zhaan studied a cell culture under her microscope, "I don't know what's causing this. Can any of you think of anything he may have been introduced to recently? Any new food you've seen him try?"

Chiana shook her head, "No... he's been eating food cubes like always."

Aeryn shook her head, "He hasn't been off the ship for weekens, it couldn't have been anything from a planet's atmosphere."

"Unless it has a long incubation period," D'Argo piped in.

Zhaan nodded, "Yes... unfortunately there is no knowing when this came upon him. Perhaps it is a human ailment that has no cure."

Chiana looked panicked.

Aeryn shook her head, "No... he just got sick... there has to be something..."

Zhaan thought a moment, "Perhaps there was something airborne in the crates Aeryn brought up from the commerce planet."

Aeryn blinked, horrified to think she'd accidentally done this, then queried, "Then why hasn't it affected any of us?"

Zhaan dipped her head, "It's possible the sickness takes longer to affect our species. Or it may just be John. It seems Crichton's uniqueness to our space may have come to destroy him."

D'Argo growled faintly, "There has to be something. Pilot... have there been any reports about any contaminates in this system? Anything you didn't mention because it was not supposed to affect any of our species?"

"None," Pilot replied, "this region of space is reported to be perfectly safe."

Aeryn wracked her mind, thinking back to the commerce planet. She fought to recall if there were any conversations in the back of her mind... anyone mentioning a sickness or epidemic.

Then it hit her.

"Frell."

Zhaan looked at Aeryn, "Aeryn... you have something?"

Aeryn answered, "There was a sick Sebacean girl on the planet... I touched her."

D'Argo thought aloud, "And you were in the most contact with John when you got back."

Zhaan's eyes widened hopefully, "What were her symptoms?"

Aeryn strained to remember the girl she'd barely noticed, "She was coughing... that was all I could tell, but I wasn't... paying attention."

Zhaan nodded, "Pilot, reverse course back to the commerce planet immediately... Aeryn, please step over here."

Aeryn moved to Zhaan's research table, "What for?"

Zhaan reached for Aeryn's arm, "I wish to test your blood... to see if there is an infestation."

Aeryn frowned, "But... I feel fine."

Zhaan nodded, "Perhaps you can't get ill from this virus... but you may be a carrier."

Aeryn swallowed, afraid to think this was her fault, and allowed Zhaan to draw her blood for testing. She looked over at Crichton on the table, sickened. He might die... and the last thing she'd done to him was yell at him.



****



Aeryn sat beside the table where Crichton lay, touching the back of his hand with her fingers. They had agreed to take turns keeping watch over their human companion, but Aeryn had taken first watch and wasn't going to budge.

Zhaan looked up from her work.

"Have you found something?" Aeryn asked hopefully.

Zhaan half-nodded, "It is as I suspected... there is a virus in your bloodstream, but your cells are resilient... they seem coded to repel this particular virus."

Aeryn frowned, thinking, "When I was a child the Peacekeeper medics inoculated us all against nearly a hundred common viruses, standard procedure... could it be one of those?"

Zhaan nodded, "From the type-specific immune coding your cells have against this virus, I suspect that is precisely the case."

Aeryn was getting hopeful, "Then... we should be able to find an inoculation and fix him... right?"

Zhaan sighed, "By the Goddess, I hope so... but we do not know what ailment this is, and we don't know if the vaccine will work on John... his human biology might not respond to treatment."

Aeryn swallowed, "It will," and touched his hand again gently, whispering to herself, "it will."



****



D'Argo stood in the hangar bay with Chiana, who was priming to go back down to the planet on her own.

"Are you sure you do not want me to come with you?" D'Argo asked.

Chiana cocked her head nervously, "You can't... the wanted beacons... I can do this, D'Argo."

D'Argo hesitated, nodding slowly, "Be careful and go quickly... John may not have much time left. You're his only chance, Chiana."

Chiana swallowed but turned and crawled into the transport pod in determination. She would find the medicine to save Crichton's life... she HAD to... she would not fail him.



****



Chiana had asked her way around the marketplace fervently for half an arn before finally being directed toward a small cottage outside town where a Sebacean family supposedly lived.

She walked right up to the door, knocking.

A man answered, looking at her strangely.

Chiana had no time for preambles, she launched right into her speech, "Sir... um... do you have a sick daughter... about six cycles old?"

The man frowned, "Who are you?"

Chiana fought off anguish, "Please... it's important."

The man sighed, still eying her warily, "Yes... I do, our little girl Mayla."

Chiana smiled, thanking Zhaan's goddess and every other deity in the universe for her good luck. She nodded hopefully, "What, uh... does she have?"

The man blocked his doorway more firmly, "Look... I don't know who you are or what your game is, but..."

Chiana bit her lip, "No, please... I have to know what illness your daughter has. My friend may be dying."

The man frowned, listening once again.

Chiana tried hurriedly to explain, "My ship was here an arn ago for supplies and one of our people came in contact with your daughter while down here and carried a... germ, virus... back up to the ship and infected one of my friends. He might be dying unless we can find a cure."

The man cocked his head, "Why wasn't this Sebacean immune? I thought this was strictly a childhood illness." Apparently, then, this was exclusively a Sebacean sickness.

Chiana thought quickly, "He, uh... was on a secluded colony with his family until recently."

The man nodded, "Our daughter has Traucknits."

Chiana repeated it to herself lest she forget it, "Traucknits... do you know where I could get a vaccine... a treatment?"

The man frowned gently, "Adult serum is hard to find... it's a rare illness these days, anyway, all but wiped out from immunization and resistance."

Chiana's heart sank... and it showed on her face.

"But... our doctor gave my wife and I adult serum for it when Mayla got sick. We've both been inoculated against it when we were children, but sometimes in rare cases those inoculated cycles ago can catch it from children. We've been keeping it in case one of us got sick, but... I think we're going to be okay. I'll give you ours if you'd like."

Chiana's eyes swelled with tears and a lump formed in her throat, "Thank you... thank you so much."

The man nodded, turning back to head into his house and retrieve the serum.

Chiana stood outside the door, heart soaring with hope. Crichton would get his vaccine... she didn't even want to consider the possibility Zhaan suggested that it might not work on humans. It had to work... Crichton couldn't die.



****



Pilot reported immediately when Moya sensed the transport pod coming back, "Chiana is returning."



****



Chiana rushed right to Zhaan's apothecary when the hangar doors opened, moving past D'Argo who stood waiting. She didn't want to waste a microt to tell him she had the vaccine, instead streaking right past him.

She exploded into Zhaan's apothecary, vaccine vials held carefully and protectively against her chest, "Traucknits... he's got Traucknits."

Aeryn stood up, "Traucknits? It's a childhood Sebacean illness... we never get this bad from it, it's a nonfatal sickness," she looked at Crichton's pathetic form.

Zhaan moved toward Chiana, "John is human... it may account for his life-threatening reaction to an otherwise harmless sickness... Chiana, is there a treatment?"

Chiana nodded enthusiastically, "Adult serum... I have it here," she passed the two vials to Zhaan.

Zhaan took them carefully, looking over at John and then at Aeryn, "We don't know how he will react to the vaccine, it's possible it could worsen his condition, but we no longer have any options. Are we in agreement that we must try this?"

Everyone nodded.

Zhaan picked up a syringe and loaded one of the vials into it. Going to Crichton, she touched the needle to John's arm, whispered, "May the Goddess watch over you," and depressed the medicine into Crichton's flesh.



****



Crichton became aware of a dull ache... everywhere. His whole body was cramped, but it was considerably better than how he felt in his last lucid memory. He remembered thinking he was dying... now he just wished he was.

His stomach hurt, but it was better than before... in the maintenance bay.

Slowly opening his eyes, he found that he was in the apothecary. He knew he probably shouldn't be surprised by that... the last thing he really remembered was Aeryn and blood.

He looked around slowly, groggy, and fought a smirk as the thought flickered through his mind, 'speak of the devil'. Sitting nearby was Aeryn Sun herself... frowning and tense ball of sunshine.

Crichton cleared his throat carefully, croaking, "Hey..."

Aeryn's head jerked up, eyes darting to Crichton. She lit up, almost even smiled, when she saw him awake and looking back at her.

She went to his side, standing beside him, "John... how do you feel?"

"Death warmed over," he smirked, clearing his throat again. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth, a painful reminder of how he'd gotten to Zhaan's lab.

Aeryn frowned, faintly touching his arm, "We... almost lost you."

Crichton grumbled in acknowledgement, trying to capture the absolute last thing he clearly remembered.

When he did, he looked at her and said sincerely, "I'm sorry... about your Prowler."

Aeryn frowned, confused, then realized what he was talking about and shook her head, "Don't worry about that."

Crichton grunted faintly, "No... I broke it... you told me not to."

Aeryn smiled ever so faintly, "It can be fixed... but you're right, it's your fault, so I expect you to help me... once you're better."

Crichton closed his eyes and smiled, despite himself. Aeryn knew he loved helping her work on the Prowler, and it wasn't like he was a great help... mostly he was in the way, but he loved spending the time with her. She was doing this for him, and they both knew it.

Crichton nodded, opening his eyes again to look at her, "Least I could do."

Aeryn seemed to hesitate at that, probably considering the implications of what he said, then nodded slowly and touched his arm gently, "Don't ever do this to me again, Crichton."

John half-smiled softly, "I'll try not to, Baby."

Aeryn frowned, growing solemn and sincere again and beginning slowly, "John... I... I said some... pretty aweful things to you earlier... um..."

Crichton's eyes, tired though they were, glowed in affection. The Peacekeeper soldier was trying to apologize. Doing a poor job of it too, but the thought really was what counted, so he decided to spare her the misery.

"Aeryn... it's okay."

Aeryn looked up at him, hopeful and dubious all at the same time.

John smirked softly, "I was asking for it... but I know." He knew she didn't mean it... hadn't meant it as harshly as she said it... any of it.

Aeryn smiled, dropping her hand and saying quickly, "I should tell Zhaan you're awake," and turned to leave. Crichton watched her disappear out of the lab, sighing faintly to himself once he was alone. Nearly dying like that was the pits, but waking up to Aeryn by his bedside wasn't half bad.

Zhaan would be back any moment expecting him awake, but she was patient... she'd let him sleep a while longer.

Closing his eyes, Crichton drifted off again... hoping the next time he woke up he felt as improved as he had the first time... and maybe if he was very lucky, Aeryn would be there again too.



END