Commingled
Co-written
with
Notes:
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…well, no, wait, my bad. It was right
here and almost a year ago that we wrote the last of the Sandbox Challenges. You
remember. Two authors, two stories.
Yes, believe it or not, once again we, the sugar and spice
girl and the girl that…wasn’t, felt the need to play in the sandbox. Susan and
I have been kicking this around in the sand for a while now, trying to figure
out what we were going to do, and we finally dragged out the shovels and pails
and poked and prodded and…well…here it is,. the
seventh in our series
Last time it was Susan saying, “You know that game where
somebody starts a story...”
And me saying, “...and somebody else finishes it?”
And her saying, “Yeah!”
This time it was, “Why don’t we write a story together? You
know, just kick it back and forth and see what we come up with?” So this time
instead of two authors, two stories, you get one story by two authors. Teachers
should never be held responsible for what they do when they are looking down
the barrel of another August at the start of another school year.
If you are interested and looking for the other entries in
the series they can be found, in order, here:
The usual suspects provided the drive-bys. Eva, Kaz, thanks
muchly.
Rating:
PG-13
Setting:
Post PKW
Spoilers:
Hardly
Disclaimer:
Not ours. They belong to Henson, et. al. No copyright infringement intended. No money being made.
It was a dark
and stormy night. Stinging rain pelted him from above, water percolated up from
below, and a low dull moaning carried on the wind that whistled through the
corridors, split only by the roar of thunder followed by a shattering strike of
lightening that illuminated the streaks of crimson creeping down Moya’s golden
walls.
The thunder
rolled and the lightening flared and the rain came furious and fast, and then in
a brilliant flare of light, there was Chiana, standing like a spectre, black blood dripping from her soaking hands.
His own blood
froze deep in his veins and he stumbled, trying to turn and run as she lumbered
down the corridor toward him. He slipped on the slick deck, tripped and cracked
his head on the…
…shower stall?
He shook his
head like a drowned puppy, rubbed hard at his eyes and did a mental reality
check. There was no dark and stormy night, just the semi-permanent twilight of
life with a hungry newborn demanding satisfaction every two hours or less, no
moaning on the wind, just assorted infant wails or the shrieks of DRDs trying
to escape the forced attendance at yet another formal tea party or their role
of patient at the hands of Doctor D.
Aeryn’s gonna kill you, man.
He ran another
quick check, tried to remember just how long he’d been in here, made sure
everything that should have been cleaned had been, and slapped the water off.
And Pilot was gonna be pissed, too.
He reached
over and snagged a towel, ruffled his hair dry, made a quick pass over his
chest and down his legs.
Maybe you can tell Aeryn you need to
start showering together to conserve water.
“D? Z?” He flipped
the towel behind him and worked it back and forth and down his back. “Hey,
kids?”
Sudden silence
assaulted him, an ominous, oppressive blanket settling over him. He called a
little louder. “D’Argo? Zanna?”
Shaking the
towel out, he wrapped it around his hips, and stepped out of the fresher.
They were
standing there, shoulder to shoulder, or they would have been if D’Argo didn’t
have a good head and a half on his sister, radiating angelic innocence. Beatific
smiles beamed from chubby-cheeked faces like beacons.
He tilted his
head and squinted hard at his little girl. Her head looked oddly…unbalanced. She
looked almost like a broken bobblehead, like she’d
fall over and plant her face with only a whisper of wind from behind.
“What did you
guys do?”
The little
girl’s eyes grew very wide as D’Argo bounced on his feet. “Just
playing, Daddy.”
He wasn’t buying it for a microt. “What were you playing?”
His daughter’s smile split her cherubic face. “Bar-ber, dah-dee.”
“You know you
guys are supposed to pick up your stuff and put it away when you’re finished
playing.” Keeping the two of them locked in his line of sight,
he crossed his quarters to the pile of toys littering the floor beside the toy
chest and popped the top. “Now come over here and…”
He looked down
into the open chest and quit breathing at the sight of the scissors and the
pile of hair staring back up at him. “Freeze,” he snapped at the sound of
escaping footsteps.
Oh, god. Aeryn’s gonna kill you.
Swinging
around in slow motion, he moved at a glacier’s pace toward the two little
statues standing frozen in front of him, stepping around and to the back of
them. He stared at the back of his daughter’s head. Pretty patches of pink
scalp stared back at him from where she’d been shorn like a sheep.
His feet moved
without conscious effort until he’d circled around in front of them again. Yep.
There were her bangs and healthy, heavy handfuls of hair framing her face.
No wonder she looked like she was gonna
plant her face any microt.
He was now the proud father of one and a half boys: one at
birth, and one a tom.
“Barber?”
He sounded like a yotz.
This. Was. Not. Possible.
It was definitely not on the agenda. He didn’t think Aeryn
would divorce him over this. Then he wondered...would she?
Nah. She’s just gonna kill you.
“John?” His beloved's voice chirped his comms to life where
it lay across the cell on the bed. “Are you finished yet? We have a schedule to
keep, you know.”
In the background, he could hear the baby wailing, an
obvious sign that Adan was probably hungry and that
Aeryn was bringing him...
Here.
“Yeah, babe.
I'm on it.” He snapped out of automaton mode, and dropped down to eye level
with the two terrified faces standing stock still, hands pasted tight over
their mouths. His arm came up, finger pointing, as he made an executive
decision and hissed a command. “Bedroom!”
The kids ran, the pale, pink skin on the back of Zanna's head gleaming in the cell’s light.
Yep, he was gonna keep this from Aeryn for as long as
possible. He ran down his mental checklist. Hungry infant,
check. Tight schedule, check. Aeryn forced into
a dress (amend that: that slinky royal blue dress with ‘frelling to follow’
written all over it), double check.
And here he was with one daughter re-named Raggedy Ann and
a son re-named Mud.
Check
mate.
His shower should have completely relaxed him, but instead,
he rolled his neck to release anticipatory tension, and headed for his laid out
dress-clothes.
Appearances, speeches, dinner and definitely drinks first. Aeryn's wrath later. After the baby was
asleep. After they’d returned to Moya, done a bedcheck, and he'd divested
her of that dress. After…
“CRICHTON?!!”
Aeryn's voice bit his ears as she shepherded two children backing up very
slowly and one bouncing vorc into their quarters.
Storm cloud eyes locked him in her line of sight as she
herded her brood through the cell door, muttering under her breath. “Every kid
needs a dog…a vorc, babe. Come on, it’ll be great.
The kids will love him.”
She shifted the baby higher up on her shoulder, flicked her
eyes at the vorc as it pasted itself to her leg, then
pinned her husband with a laser glare. “I believe you lost something.”
“Oh, yeah, babe.
I was just gonna get on that. Feed the vorc. Next on my list of things to do.”
“Well, while you were working on you list of things to do…”
Her free hand reached for the stuffed doll in the hand propping up the baby and
came away with a severed head trailing stuffing. “Your precious little pet…”
“Pooooookeeeeeee!”
Zanna’s scream split the standoff, igniting the
baby’s high pitched wail as she raced to her mother, grabbing at the detached
head.
Zanna
buried her head in her mother’s middle, muting her sobs and seeking solace.
Aeryn’s hand automatically moved to stroke her child’s…
Her hand froze in mid-stroke. “John?”
John's head dropped; his jaw hit his chest.
Oh
god. Snow White's mama had nuthin' on that tone.
“What happened?”
He brought his head up. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t
shoot him in front of the kids, but at least this way if she shot him she'd
have to look into his face to do it “Uh... where?”
Dumb
ass.
“Where.
Is. Her. Hair?”
“Uh, yeah... about that.”
Roll the lips, lick them. “Um, Aeryn? Y'know, honey, how kids will be kids...?”
Lame
excuse.
You’re the daddy: shoulda told the kids to not play
with sharp objects.
Problem though, was that Aeryn had begun D’Argo’s basic
weapons’ training when he hit four cycles.
Did
that make this Aeryn's fault then?
“What. Did. You. Say?”
Dumb
ass.
Did you say that out loud?
“Her hair is shorter than a Delvian Pa'u's.”
Aeryn’s lips pulled back in a shark smile, aware of two pairs of eyes bouncing
between her and her target and hissed through her teeth. “What the frell were
you doing that you didn't know about it?!”
John winced. Nix on the dress divestment. He'd be sleeping
with the vorc tonight. “Showering,” he defended
himself. “According to your schedule! I was takin' a shower, and the kids were playin'.
Come on, Aeryn. It'll grow back.”
Ice cold features were swept over by wide-eyed shock. “It.
Will. Grow. Back?!”
Did
you just say that out loud, too? Oh, man, stupid, stupid, stupid...
“She looks like she’s going to fall over just standing
still.” Aeryn shifted the baby down into the crook of her arm where he
immediately started rooting around for dinner. She slid her little finger, pad
up, into his mouth.
“Tomorrow,” he promised, “we’ll take them planetside, find somebody who knows what they’re doing.” He
picked his daughter up, settled her on one hip, and cupped her face with his
free hand. “Get her a haircut. You know; a wedge.” He turned her head. “She’ll
look like Dorothy Hamill.”
“Who the frell is Dorothy Hamill?”
“Ice skater.
Olympics. MY sisters loved her. Got their hair cut
like her.” His free hand waved. “Forget it.” He bounced his little girl on his
hip, nuzzled her nose. “She’s gonna look great.”
“Fine.”
Aeryn shook the vorc off her leg. “You take…this and
feed it. I’ll take care of the baby.” She fixed Zanna
with a mock glare. “Then we’ll all take a shower.”
She pinned her husband with a real one as she pulled her
little finger out of the baby’s mouth and tossed the severed head at him. “And
you can sew this back on and put them all to bed while I get ready.”
He snagged the head one handed. “Sounds like a plan to me,
babe.” He plunked his daughter back down on her feet and gently smacked her
bottom. “Go wait for me in your room. I’ll be right there.”
They both took off like a shot out from a frag cannon. He
walked over to their bed, looked for his boxers, gave up and pulled on his
leathers. When he turned around Aeryn was already seated, the baby slurping
happily at her breast.
His lips pulled back in a full blown smile. “You’re
beautiful.”
She raised her head, a small smile of her own tugging at
her lips.
Shaking his head, he gave a soft whistle. “Come on, Porky.”
His leathers barely fastened, his feet still bare, he herded the vorc out of the cell
and down the corridor to pick up the kids. “What the frell kinda name is Porky
for a vorc? Now Buck? That’s a name for a vorc.”
The vorc just looked at him and
grabbed his leg.
If he made it through this night alive, he was going to
celebrate by getting very, very drunk.
********************
Stepping out of the fresher, she stopped dead in her tracks
and leaned up against Moya’s warm wall, long arms crossed loosely over her
chest. She thought she’d never tire of the sight that greeted her.
John sat on the floor of their quarters, Zanna next to him, completely lost in the smooth, seamless
suturing of head to body. She let the warm rush of love flood through her,
washing away the bone deep exhaustion and dirty diaper daze
a newborn brought with it.
John finished stitching with a flourish, and held up his
handiwork for his daughter’s approval. “Good as new.”
Zanna
squeed and grabbed it from his hand, running expert,
loving hands over the newly rejoined body, humming happily.
Satisfied, she jumped into John’s lap, and threw soft,
squishy arms around her father’s neck. “Tank you, Dah-dee.”
She jumped out of his lap and started padding away, pumping
short, little legs. Picking up steam, small, quick steps sent her flying out of
her parents’ quarters and into the hall, yelling for her brother.
Rolling to his feet, John straightened and stretched,
brilliant blue eyes glowing in the half-light of their cell running over his
wife appreciatively.
A half
dozen lazy strides brought him close enough to touch. Planting his palms
against the wall on either side of her head, he leaned in, nuzzling her ear and
inhaling deeply. “Damn, you look good.”
“Uhm mmm,”
she murmured, strong, slender fingers wrapping his neck, nails scratching
softly at the base of his skull. “And you still owe me.”
He purred warm and soft into her ear. “I know.” His hands
skimmed down over her towel covered curves, snaked around her waist and came to
rest on the sleek curve of her butt as he pulled her hips in closer to his.
“You can start making it up to me tonight.” She adjusted
herself carefully, hips close, chest slightly away. “If
you’re lucky. And you’re good.”
“Oh, I’m good baby.” He buried a moan in her hair as she
canted her hips.
His hands cupped her head, fingers curling in the warm,
black mass of silk spilling over them as his mouth met hers and he covered her
in a full body press. He felt her shift slightly beneath him and pulled back,
eyes searching hers, breathing hard. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Two weekens, John.”
She feathered cool fingertips down his cheek, along his lips, and watched his
eyes glaze. “I saw the healer today when I took Adan
in for his check up.”
He flicked out his tongue, captured her finger; watched a
wicked grin bloom as his lips slowly pulled back, releasing it. Leaning
forward, he buried his face in her hair, breathed hot and harsh into her ear. “We’re
good to go, then?”
“If you get lucky.”
She exhaled low and deep low, her hands on his shoulders suddenly tightening,
pushing him back. “First things first.”
He shook head sharply, jostling his sex soaked brain into
some semblance of rationality. “We’re in, we’re out. We do the meet and greet
and make Rygel happy.” He kissed her again, deeply. “We come back, make me
happy.”
“Make Adan happy first is more
likely.” She snorted as she pushed him off her. “Then you.”
He turned and crossed the cell back to their bed. “Is
everything set with Chiana?”
“I left milk in the cooler.” She unwrapped the towel,
tossed it onto the chair, snagged a bra and panties.
“She knows where it is.”
John rooted around on the bed looking for his boxers. “I
wonder why she was so anxious to do baby sitting duty for us rather than mingle
at Rygel’s reception.”
Aeryn slid first one leg than the other into her panties,
shimmied them up over her hips. “After so long planetside, I’m not surprised
she jumped at the chance to get some away time.”
Giving up, John turned around,
hands on hips to watch his wife carefully adjust wonderfully full breasts into her
bra. He shook his head again to clear it and focused on the task at hand. “Do I
have any clean shorts?”
She picked up the towel and lifted an elegant shoulder.
“Not unless you did a load of whites.”
“Commando it is.” He turned and dropped his leathers,
kicked them to the corner of the cell, and worked his way into his dress pants.
********************
Advantages to going commando while in leathers: one, a
quick frell with one's wife in the maintenance bay meant one extra minute of
intimacy. Two, resultant chafing meant sympathy from the same wife, a bonus
especially when she was already pissed.
John shifted just slightly for the dozenth
time, mentally encouraging the material of his dress trousers to loosen in
certain key areas, then bared his teeth in a false smile when another
government mucky-muck went floating by. He'd never seen so many throne-sleds
before...
“Stand still!” Aeryn hissed over her shoulder, her teeth
gleaming in the glittery lights.
“Can't,” he grunted, and settled for distraction instead,
telling himself that he could make through the next few ahrns
if only he got to watch Aeryn from behind for a while. “Why the frell did we
come to this thing anyway?” he whispered, his tone petulant.
“For Rygel,” she reminded him needlessly. “Why else?”
Why else, indeed. They could have been on Moya right now,
the kids asleep, the baby asleep, the vorc caged. He
was beginning to sound like a broken record, even to himself, but didn't give a
rat's eema.
Zanna's
hair really would grow back. D had been given the obligatory lecture on the
sanctity of little girls’ hair and how much he’d appreciate it when he got
older…
“Smile!”
Aeryn hissed, but he had no smiles in him.
Instead, he ducked, took a long draught from his tube of Hyneria's finest, and hid behind Aeryn's hair.
“What is the matter with you?” she growled when the
functionary had passed.
“I wanna go home.” Great. Now he
sounded like one of the kids.
Aeryn rolled her gaze back at him. “We just got here.”
Sip of wine to keep his tongue busy. “I know. But I'd
rather be at home with you and the kids. Doing... family stuff. Y'know. Videos. Popcorn.
Taking out the trash.”
Aeryn arched an elegant eyebrow. “Taking out the trash?”
“Yeah, well, bad example.
Look, coming here was a mistake.”
“Coming here was your idea!” His wife's growl made his guts
fuzzy.
“Let's leave,” he encouraged her, his hand settling on the
glossy smooth of her dress, his fingers ticking just so down her spine.
Aeryn turned fully around, her stare begging the question.
'Are you serious?' “Let's not, or you know what Rygel will do.”
“Sparky will live.” The whine was resurfacing. Squashing
it, he temporized. “Let's dance.”
Aeryn set her tube down next to his, and took his hand. Not
a peep or protestation out of her. Man, he really must sound like some
snot-nosed kid.
Maybe that was a good thing.
********************
Slow
dancin', swaying to the music...
No
one else in the whole wide world.
Rivers had known exactly what he was talking about.
John didn't bother shifting again. He just snugged his way more deeply into the
If he'd still been a teenager in high school, he would
probably already be dead from the hormonal flood. The only thing missing was
the spinning disco ball over their heads, and Rivers himself crooning on the
stereo.
Their sway was just enough to carry them around, and in one
more verse, he and Aeryn would be out the garden doors and on their way to the
transport pod. In the meantime, plastering himself to his wife seemed like the
best possible way to finish up their appearance at this little shindig.
Sway left, sway right, one more
yard and counting.
“Ah-hermff!!”
Nope.
Didn't hear that.
“Huh-humpf!”
Go
away.
“Rygel,” Aeryn's voice thrummed, borderline death threat,
borderline lust.
“I can see that some things haven't changed,” the little
Hynerian noted, his thronesled hovering not a foot
beside them. In a regal purple robe adorned with gold lace, their former
crewmate sniggered to himself. “If you're not careful,
young D'Argo will have more siblings than I have offspring!”
Around them, courtiers and guests snickered into polite
hands. John finally straightened from where he'd been resting on Aeryn's head.
“Can it, Fluffy,” he warned. “D doesn't need to visit as often as you think he
does.”
It was an idle threat: Little D adored his honorary uncle. Even if Rygel was still a royal pain in the eema.
“Hmff!”
Rygel's earbrows jerked in offense, though he did
change the topic. “I came to congratulate you on your newest infant.”
That was a bit surprising considering that Rygel had been
to visit up on Moya earlier that weeken. He'd even held Adan,
told Zanna (and the ever present Pookee)
a story about her namesake, and given Pilot a gift. And yet, here he was now,
servants in tow, offering them more.
A tiny chip was placed into Aeryn's hand. Suspicious, John
leaned down to check it out. “What is it?” he asked. “A coupon for a cycle's
worth of diapers?”
Rygel merely ‘ha-rumffed’ again,
and with a wave of his tiny hand to his train, he floated away.
"What is it?" John repeated himself.
Aeryn held the chip up to the light, squinting one eye at
it. “I think it's a promise.”
“A what...?”
Face restored to normalcy, she handed the chip to him. “A promise. To Adan,
from his Uncle Rygel.”
“A promise to do what?
Buy stock in Gas-X products?”
Eyes alone, Aeryn scowled. “No. It's for the future. Adan can present it to the court of Hyneria anytime he
wishes, and the Dominar must make good on the request.”
“Whoa.” Genuine amazement. Turning
the notion around in his head, John followed as Aeryn exited out the garden
door.
Danny was gonna be frellin' rich
when he grew up, that was for sure. John wondered if his son had just been
blessed by his Froggy Godfather or cursed by the Big
Bad Toad.
“I wonder if he can cash it in now?”
Aeryn turned on the lighted pathway, the blue dress
flashing sapphire in the night. “For what?”
“New hair for Zanna.”
This time Aeryn snorted. “It'll grow back.”
John guffawed, a possessive palm settling in that perfect
curve at the base of his wife's spine. “That's what I said!”
********************
It was one of his favorite parts of the sleep cycle. He
loved standing in the soft, golden glow of half-light that spilled into the
cell from the corridor, and listened to the soft breathing of his children as
they slept. The vorc opened a sleepy eye from where
it nestled at the foot of D’Argo’s bed, tracking him as he moved the rest of
the way into the cell.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he leaned over and
dropped a quick kiss on his son’s dark, wavy hair. The smile exploded into a
full blown grin as he moved over to his daughter, face down, little diapered
bubble-butt up in the air, pale scalp and one arm burrowed into her pillow,
free hand balled up loosely under her chin.
He tapped her butt gently, and leaned over to nuzzle her
warm, silky cheek. She shifted slightly and smacked her lips as she settled
more comfortably. The vorc was already back to sleep
by the time he backed out of the cell.
With a last look inside, he palmed the grate closed, turned
on his heel, and crossed the corridor, ready for his other most favorite part
of the sleep cycle, the part that had nothing to do with sleep.
Aeryn was just putting Adan down
as he entered their quarters. Half a dozen long, easy strides brought him up
behind her, his arms snaking around her waist as she straightened and leaned
back against him.
He rested his chin against the join of her neck and
shoulder, buried his nose in her hair, nuzzling her ear. “Is he down?”
She turned in his arms, wrapping long, slender arms around
his neck as she rested her forehead lightly against his. “For
the next couple of arns.”
Tightening his
arms around her, his mouth found hers. She swallowed his quiet moan as his
tongue delved deep, and he fused them, lips and shoulders to hip.
His hands moved
from the valley of her waist; fingers sliding up the elegant curve of her
spine, wrapped her neck, fisted in her hair as he kissed her slow and sweet.
His free hand slid around the lush curve of her hip, pulled her in tighter
against him.
She felt his
body’s need humming through him as he backed her up against the warm wall of
their darkened quarters.
His hands
cupped her head as strong, slender fingers rucked up
his shirt and he shivered, grinding hard against her as cool fingertips ghosted
over his back. He broke the kiss, breathed softly as he nipped gently at her
lower lip and nuzzled her nose. “I love you.”
“I love you
too,” she murmured as her arms came up around his neck and she nuzzled back,
eyes soft, lips smiling. “But I think you’ll have to be very, very quiet.” She
ran her hands down his back, and smirked when he shivered.
Pulling her
with him off the wall, he spun them and walked her back toward their bed. “I
think I can do that.”