The Glass Onion Text too small or too big? You can change it! Ctrl+ (bigger), Ctrl- (smaller)
or click on View in your browser and look for font or text size settings.

Home/Quicksearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List

Why Don't We Do it in the Road?

by Marguerite

[Story Headers]

Posted: Sunday, September 14, 2003 7:47 PM


There really wasn't any reason not to, once he tossed aside the notions of honor and fidelity. He didn't find that difficult. After all, Aeryn had deceived him, betrayed him, left him. Left him with no one but poor old Elack and her ancient Pilot. So when the opportunity to use something besides alternating hands was available, and the subject was willing - why not?

The only light in the chamber came from 1812, waiting at the foot of the bed like a patient dog. When Chiana drifted in, bare feet padding along the ground, wrapped in a blanket whose edges whispered along the floor no louder than her whisper of his name, he asked himself "why not?" and couldn't come up with a good answer.

Why not? Because, somewhere in the universe, Aeryn was pregnant with his child. Scared, alone, unsure.

He shook his head. That was an illusion. The Aeryn he knew had probably aborted the fetus without a second thought and gone on to the murder and mayhem she'd been bred to perform.

The question rolled around in the back of his mind again as he bumped 1812 off the bed and began to run his hands along Chiana's ribs. He realized Chiana wasn't trembling from the cold, or even from his touch. Something unspeakable had been done to her, and she was going to use him to erase the foul memory.

Before he had a chance to act on his realization, Chiana asked if he'd fantasized about her. He said yes, partly because it was the truth and partly because he hoped she'd say the same thing about him. She said yes, of course, and that kept the guilt at bay. After all, he was using her, too, and he couldn't stop now if he tried, but it didn't matter because she was just as guilty as he.

His performance that first time was sloppy and juvenile. Overly eager. God, he hadn't been so terrible since Karen, way back when he was a teenager. No finesse, no staying power - he hadn't seen baseball in so long that thinking about it was almost as much of a turn-on as sex itself - and no clue what some of the bits of Chiana's body were supposed to be doing. Once he figured out that the entire muscular ring gripping him was roughly equivalent to a human woman's clitoris, he sighed with relief. Finally, something to indicate intelligent design in the universe.

She purred into his ear, telling him not to try so hard, that she liked everything he did. Everything.

Days and nights passed. That Chiana liked everything turned out to be only partially true - she let him do whatever he wanted, but she didn't always like it. He could piece together bits of what had happened to her by the things that made her tense up, or cry out. Part of him liked searching out those raw places, kept worrying them like the socket where a tooth used to be, and the rest of him hated himself for finding pleasure in such overtly cruel acts. Once, when he had made her cry by blindfolding her against her will, he had one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

Cruelty became part of the ritual. One night Chiana told him that she could barely feel him because D'Argo had been so much bigger. That hurt his pride until he realized that he was being played, so he made Chiana dress her hair with herbal oil so she'd smell like Aeryn. Unfazed, Chiana tried to retaliate by telling him how much he looked like one of the men who'd assaulted her on the planet with Rygel. The plan backfired. Crichton stared up at her as she straddled him and slammed her fists onto his chest, pale blue tears streaming down her face, his own eyes filling in sympathy. He stilled her hands and kissed them, then scooped her up in his arms and held her to his chest. From his lips came not censure, but comforting murmurs and gentle endearments. When she was quiet again, she asked him to kiss her. Their joining was so tender that, as she melted around him, he heard her say something about love.

Crichton knew she wouldn't forgive him for that, so he waited for the axe to fall.

It fell a few days later, after they'd picked up D'Argo and the old woman and returned to Moya. Chiana began hinting that she might be pregnant with Crichton's child. He bit down hard on that one, pushing her away and finally saying that the game was over, dammit, that wasn't funny, that she knew how much Aeryn's baby meant to him.

He never saw her go to Noranti, head hanging low, and ask for the bitter herbs.

Please post a comment on this story.









Fandom:  Farscape
Title:  Why Don't We Do it in the Road?
Author:  Marguerite   [email]
Details:  Standalone  |  R  |  4k  |  02/14/04
Summary:  It didn't matter, as long as she was just as guilty as he.
Notes:  Beatles Song Title Challenge. 794 words.
Rating: R for non-explicit sexual situations, but this is DARK FIC.
WARNING: In case you didn't see it under "Rating," this is A Dark Fic. UnMeglike, if you will. It's Anna's fault.
Spoilers: Up to the beginning of S4.

[top of page]

Home/QuickSearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List