Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

John was busy doodling on his notes in front of Star Tours.

He always had kept notes, but he seemed to have gotten worse about it here, where he was without his little tape recorder. They contained jotted bits of information, the ramblings of his muddy head, any little connections he wanted to keep for later. Considering how full his brain was compared to the average human, he really did need them to keep things vaguely organized.

The corner of his notes had a prowler sketched on it. It was kind of like the Peacekeeper version of an x-wing, a one man fighter with lots of firepower and maneuverability. He had accidentally clipped one on his first day in the Uncharted Territories, having been a bit disoriented from getting tossed out of a wormhole.

It was also the kind of ship that Aeryn had flown as a PK soldier.

Draw something different, John. How about that weird necklace Chiana bought on that commerce planet, the one with those bird people who had nests above the market....

He thought maybe he'd go find Daniel later, but he was pretty sure the anthropology wonder boy was giving a Latin lesson at the moment (which, intriguing as the subject was, would be a singularly useless skill for him to have back on the farm). So he contented himself with scribbles and ignored Harvey's harmonica playing at the back of his head.

((closed to John, Crowley, and I'm presuming Cayce at some point ^_^))

Comments

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"1926," clarified Crowley. "Black. 6 litre. Finest damn thing on four wheels." He missed his car. Nothing else in his life had that kind of reliability.

"And I doubt it. Why are you drawing it?"

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

He shook his head in something close to awe. "Wouldn't disagree with you on that one. The Bentley was classy before automotive companies had figured out cars should be." Crowley had to know his stuff to be able to keep a car that old in good enough condition to drive. Especially if he used it for more than the auto show, which was the impression John was getting.

A sheepish expression flitted across his face at the question. "Make sure I don't forget anything. What everything looks like back home." And he had a moment to realize what he had called it, called Moya. Home now, not 'that place he was trying to leave so he could get back to Earth.' Little lost John Crichton, still trying to find his way back to Kansas. Only now Kansas had changed shape. "It was the vehicle of choice for someone back there. Who I miss. I guess that's what brought it up."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

It was in more than good enough condition to drive. The Bentley was pristine. Well, after Adam had restored it anyway. It was especially fun to drive at 90mph down Oxford Street at rush hour. But Crowley wasn't going to go easy on John because the man appreciated a fine car.

He tilted his head slightly, honing in on something in Crichton's tone. "Best mate?" he guessed. Logically, Crowley was well aware that women could be hot-shot pilots. They just generally weren't unless they had something to prove and that sort of driven, tough woman seemed unlikely to be attracted to someone as... doughy as John.

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

Which again, made John laugh. Because there was no way D'Argo would have ever been comfortable in a prowler. Or caught dead in one, for that matter; the Luxan had his own good reason for hating everything Peacekeeper. "Ah, no. The woman I'm engaged to, actually. She's... well, she was born and bred to be a soldier, and she flew in a squadron of these things. Flying makes her... comfortable."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Ha! He had him, the bastard. Everyone had a way in and Crowley had found Crichton's in less than two minutes.

"Your fiancée?" Crowley inquired. "I didn't know you were engaged. Congratulations."

There was nothing in his manner or tone that suggested skepticism, but there was something just on the edge of understanding calculated to make John doubt the demon's sincerity somewhere in the back of his mammalian hindbrain.

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

Hell, everyone figured out John's primary weaknesses in a matter of minutes. It was one of the greatest flaws in his character, his tendency to wear everything on the sleeve. Scorpius would tell you that, and Harvey, for that matter. Open like a picture book, especially where she was concerned. His Achilles Heel in every sense.

He twitched a little at the congratulations. "Thanks..." he said slowly, and it was clear he wasn't sure how he should be taking it. After all, Crowley had never seemed like a particularly sympathetic sort, so why - "Makes this place all the more frustrating, I guess. We'd be married by now if I weren't here." And I'd be a father. No, he really couldn't spend too much time thinking about that.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

The narration shouldn't discount Crowley's victory. It's been a long time since he's been able to torment an individual. Besides, everyone might know John's weakness, but no one can exploit it like a demon.

"Mmm," he said noncommittally. "Must be rough being away from her for Adam knows how long. Still, there are... compensations, I suppose."

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

Adam knows? Okay, some weird religious sect he didn't know about. Or a very forceful relative. Or maybe Crowley was just being deliberately confusing.

There were plenty of things he didn't like about that last sentence, but he couldn't put his finger on any specific part. "I don't really know how you could call anything in this place a compensation for the people you care about the most. I mean, it's nice not being on the run, but that doesn't count for much when it's so important for you to get back. Lot going on when I was snatched."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Or maybe Crowley knew something, or someone, that John didn't.

"No?" he asked. "You don't think that having lots of attractive and bored young women around makes for a pleasant diversion? Being here is practically a free pass for fooling around. It's not like your girlfriend would ever know. Hell, even John Adams - a man famous for his fidelity to his wife - found his little piece on the side."

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

First of all, knowing that about John Adams was just something he... didn't need to think about. At all. He had sort of assumed that article about Susan in Kira's paper had been a total fabrication, and to find out that it wasn't was just a little disturbing. It had something to do with being an American who had grown up hearing about the Founding Fathers and their noble deeds, and also something to do with the fact that it was just TMI, kthnxs.

"I suppose if you're that kind of guy it would be that way," he said, a little uneasy. Far be it for him to pass judgment on people, but that really only made Crowley sound like more of a schmuck. "I'm just not, I guess."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Well, Susan wasn't really anorexic. And Adams never said what he'd purportedly told the paper. But they were having regular sex, yes.

"You're not that kind of guy," Crowley repeated with no particular inflection, but there was that odd sensation of doubt again.

The demon was a schmuck, but not because he was toying with women's hearts...

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

He tried to take it in good humor. Some people backed off if they couldn't get a rise out of a person. Unfortunately, John was in the nasty position of not having any idea what he was dealing with.

"No, not so much," he laughed, but the sound was a little pained. He tapped his pen against one of the many scattered sheets at his feet. This was getting uncomfortable nice and quick....

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"That's funny," said Crowley with the air of someone laying down a royal flush on big stakes, "because the last time I saw you, you were all over Cayce Pollard."

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

John blinked. Started racking his brain for anything he'd ever done to Cayce that could be construed as.... "Wait, you mean when we got a little tipsy a while back?" He snorted. "I'm going to try and not be disturbed over the notion that you were watching us without mentioning you were there, and skip straight to the fact that I never realized tickle fights with a friend added up to adultery."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

He shrugged, unashamed. "You were in a public place. But unless you're a very unusual man, I'm guessing most of your 'tickle fights with friends' don't rapidly segue into straddling them and cuddling afterward. You wanted her. Don't bother to deny it."

Crowley was remarkably good at picking up undercurrents and emotional tensions. And though Crichton's momentary desire had been a completely normal one for a lonely man and not really anything to be ashamed of, Crowley was also remarkably good at making mountains out of molehills. He'd press all the man's guilt buttons just to see what happened.

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

Wanted? That was... maybe another world, some reincarnated copy, in some remarkably less fucked up version of existence -

John had two types, funny as that was. It was understandable that different life situations brought out different qualities in him that meshed better one type or the other. First was the strong and sharp woman, all unfluffy around the edges. The one who could hand his ass to him on a platter, who always challenged him and made sure he never thought too well of himself. The other was bright and brainy one, comfortable to be with and sweet in ways she never did notice. Easy to talk to, disarming for all those little important reasons.

Cayce was Type Two. He had almost married someone like her, back on Earth when he was younger. Of course there was some part of him that was aware, if it had been somewhere else, somewhen else, he might have thought....

Aeryn was both types combined. She had grown and changed so extraordinarily in the time he had known her, and so much of that was because him. Them. Who they were together. And that sounded like sappy romantic garbage, but with the lives they had led, it was comforting to know that sappy romantic garbage could exist. Something had to come out right.

John believed in Fate. He believed they had been meant for each other.

"You've ruined my life."
"I know."

He couldn't bring himself to raise his voice. "You mind my asking exactly what gives you call to be a judgmental asshole who assumes he's got everyone's number without bothering to know them at all? Because I don't recall asking your opinion on my friendships, relationships or otherwise."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

The demon knew he hadn't missed that flash of desire. He never did. It was his sole purpose in the universe; he was the Tempter. It didn't matter that John would never have acted on it. He'd thought about it, however briefly, and that was the important part. It was faintly amusing how Crichton really hadn't bothered to deny it and had gone on the attack instead. People were so predictable.

Crowley gave a humourless smile, already aware that he'd won. "Nor do I recall needing your permission," he replied. "Thanks to you clever Yanks we have freedom of speech now. Oh, there are a few exceptions to the law, of course, but hurting your feelings isn't one of them. Too bad. Only I'm now thinking of a much older law. What was it again - the tenth commandment? Something about it being an unforgivable sin to covet your neighbor's wife? I'm sure coveting your neighbor who has a boyfriend while you yourself are engaged is covered in there somewhere, too."

He gave a show of being thoughtful and continued, "Odd how even having the thought counts as adultery."

[always-confuzed.livejournal.com]

"Why don't you take your doctrine and shove it where the sun don't shine, Mr. High Inquisitor?" John snapped. "If I needed a lessons in Bible Studies, I'd go ask my dad what he learned in Sunday School with dozens of other brainwashed children." Religion wasn't really an acceptable card to pull on a scientist; his entire profession was considered blasphemous by plenty of evangelical crazies.

Yes, he was attacking. He generally did when it came to defending Aeryn in any sense. And it wasn't helping, but all he could picture in his mind's eye was the last time he had seen her, asleep with one hand draped over her belly, already so protective over a child she was terrified to have. "You don't know a damn thing about what I want."

"Be careful."
"I'm pregnant, not incapacitated, John."

He kept still, as he recognized that there was little point in getting to his feet, but his hands shook a little. "And I'm glad that antagonizing people gets you off, but I'm really not in the mood to play right now. Thanks very much, go away."