Beka had no way of knowing about the conversation Crichton had had the night before with Chiana and Aeryn. Once safely aboard the transport pod, returning to Moya, Crichton, sitting at the secondary controls, had asked Chiana why she had been in such a rush to leave the ‘bar.’
“Bar?” Chiana had asked, walking up behind him and leaning forward, affably resting her forearms on his shoulders.
“Bar. Saloon, pub, cantina, tavern. Alcohol dispensary,” Crichton clarified without clarifying anything at all.
“That girl. Beka. Wanted something…” Chiana’s voice trailed.
“Yeah, I think I know what she wanted,” Crichton teased.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Crichton,” Aeryn interjected tersely.
Crichton tried to look abashed as he turned to look at Aeryn sitting at the primary controls. “Why, Aeryn, I just meant that she seemed lonely and wanted to talk.” He paused and leaned suggestively toward Aeryn. “What did YOU think I meant?”
Aeryn just gave Crichton a ‘Stop Talking NOW’ look. But that never worked and Crichton laughed and settled back into his seat, tilting his head up to look at Chiana, still hovering behind him.
“What do you think she wanted, Chi?” he asked, more seriously now.
“I don’t know. That’s what bothers me. I mean, yeah, she wanted you, but… why?”
“Thanks, Pip. I love you, too,” Crichton responded, pretending to be hurt. Aeryn snorted and Chiana gave him a playful push and walked around to stand in front of him.
They had to go back down to the planet the next day to finish their business and Crichton suggested that he go back to the bar to see if anything happened.
“What’s the point?” Aeryn asked practically. “Are you looking for trouble, Crichton?”
“It’s a mystery, Aeryn. You can’t leave a mystery unsolved. Speaking of mysteries, what’s arkada?”
With a sly grin on her face, Chiana leaned forward over Crichton’s seated form. Resting her hands on his shoulders, and leaning far enough over to teasingly give him an enticing view down her bodice, she put her face inches from his. “It’s an aphrodisiac, Crichton. When someone offers to share a plate with you, it’s, uh, a proposition.”
“Uh, huh,” he responded, pushing her back to a standing position. “Um, Aeryn…”
“Crichton, if you’re going to sit in that seat, you are supposed to be watching the controls. You have a yellow light blinking.”
“I’m on it, Aeryn,” he answered with a laugh and a wink at Chiana.
Crichton had still insisted on revisiting the bar. Chiana and Aeryn had wanted to go with him, but Crichton said that the girl would probably talk easier if there were only one of them. If she had wanted to tell Chiana, she would have already when they were talking together earlier. “And, Aeryn, you’d probably just scare the crap out of her,” he told her with a smile. “You and Chiana take care of business; I’ll scope out Beka.”
Aeryn sighed. He was so stubborn. “Just be careful, John.”
Later, back on Moya, telling the tale to the others, D’Argo insisted on going to protect Crichton.
“From a girl?” Crichton asked, earning a glare from Aeryn. He sighed as he realized that even on Earth that wasn’t a very smart statement.
“From whatever or whoever else there might be,” D’Argo reasoned. “I won’t be recognized like Aeryn would. I can sit at another table. The girl won’t even know we’re together.”
“Then it’s settled,” Aeryn declared.
“It is?” Crichton asked, looking at Aeryn. Seeing that the concern in her eyes was as strong as the stubbornness in the set of her jaw, he conceded. “It is.”
Beka watched as the server girl fussed over Crichton and brought him a drink. Beka admired the easy way he flirted and charmed the girl, putting her at ease and making her want to please him all the more. She watched the girl skitter away, blushing and giggling again.
Beka turned her attention back to the PeaceKeeper. He was sitting back in his chair and staring straight at her, face set, no longer smiling. When her deep-green eyes met his icy-blue ones, she felt a shiver climb her spine. Swallowing down her sudden panic, Beka tried to smile. She felt that the ice in his eyes pierced right through her and saw into her soul. She felt naked and unconsciously lifted her arms to cover herself.
Just as suddenly as that had happened, it ended. He smiled and the ice in his eyes melted and the blue now reminded her of the lake on the farm where she grew up. Instead of stripping her naked, this blue covered her body like a warm quilt on a cold night and she felt safe and protected. She felt herself blush.
‘Just like that silly serving girl,’ she admonished herself.
Her smile more natural now, she picked up her own drink and walked over to his table.
Placing her drink on his table and sitting in the chair closest to him, she leaned toward him and purred, “Is this seat taken?”
“Seems to be,” he answered easily.
He ordered them fresh drinks and they made small talk for a while. She did most of the talking. She also flirted unabashedly, touching him often. She had somehow maneuvered her chair next to his and leaned against him almost constantly. A few times she tried to put her arms around him, but felt him stiffen and pull back. He would smile, minimizing her feeling of rejection, and she would retreat, then start touching and leaning again.
It was an old game and they each thought they were playing it well. Most of time when the game was played, both players had the same goal. This time they did not.
Beka had played this game many times before. But not like this. Usually she was in control, but with this man she found herself continually trying to gain his approval, to have him grace her with that smile. Not because it was part of the game and essential to her emerging victorious, but because when he smiled at her, when his blue eyes bore deep into her, she felt something melt inside.
Her desire for the men she was with had always been an illusion; designed to make that night’s prey believe he was the only man she wanted. She was surprised to find that this night, her desire was genuine. She wanted him. This PeaceKeeper captain. John Crichton.
Once she realized that her hunger wasn’t a façade, that it was sincere, she felt panic in the pit of her stomach. The heat radiating from his body so close to her made her start to sweat. Looking at his handsome face made it hard for her to breathe and she turned her head.
Standing at the counter was the man with the mud-colored eyes, staring at her. Hard, cold, malevolent. Fear crept up from her bowels like an icy tendril and she tried to swallow it back down.
“There’s a friend I have to see,” she said with false sincerity, giving Crichton’s leg a squeeze. “I’ll be back.”
Crichton watched Beka walk to the man at the bar. He thought she looked terrified, so he rested his hand on the pulse gun holstered on his thigh. Beka looked like she was trying to reason with the man. The man’s expression never changed, but finally he nodded once and, with a glance in Crichton’s direction, left the bar. Crichton’s hand tightened around his gun and his cold icy-blue eyes followed the man out the door.
Beka took a deep breath, let it out slowly and turned back, facing the PeaceKeeper captain. The captain was staring at the door as if he could see right through it. She fleetingly wondered if he could. His eyes had turned to ice again and his body was tense.
She walked back to the table and sat down, not looking at him.
“Who was he? What did he want?” Crichton asked.
“Nothing. Nobody,” she answered, staring across the room, her eyes unfocused.
“Beka…,” Crichton softly said.
“Take me with you,” Beka blurted out, turning to face Crichton and staring into his eyes. “Please. Take me with you.” Answering Crichton’s questioning expression, she pleaded, “Please. Where ever you are going. I don’t care. Just take me away from here. I’ll do anything.”
“Beka, what…?”
“Anything,” she repeated frantically, grabbing his vest.
Crichton grabbed her wrists to release her grip. “Calm down,” he ordered. “What is going on here? Who was that man? Your husband?” She didn’t seem to know what that meant, so he said, “Mate?”
“No, no. He’s my protector.”
“He didn’t seem very protective.”
“No, I guess not.” Crichton’s composed manner was calming her down and he released her arms. She continued. “If they know I have a protector, they won’t bother me.”
“They…who…?” He stopped as a thought hit him. “He’s your pimp?”
She didn’t know what that meant either, but said, “He’ll kill me. Maybe you, too, although he may be too afraid to kill a PeaceKeeper captain.”
“Then I hope he doesn’t find out…,” Crichton mumbled.
“What?” she asked, not quite hearing him.
“Why does he want to kill you?”
“He said he knows I want to leave him. That I’m trying to, umm,” her voice lowered to a whisper, “leave with you.”
“Leave with me? Why? Why me?”
“You’re a PeaceKeeper. A PeaceKeeper captain. You have a ship. You can leave here. Take me someplace else. Or,” she paused and leaned toward him, “keep me.”
“Keep you?”
“I know some PeaceKeeper captains have personal servers. I know you already have one, but, she seems an awful lot of trouble.” She mistook Crichton’s puzzled expression for some kind of loyalty to Chiana and amended, “Or you could have two servers. Couldn’t you?”
“What? You mean Chiana? Chiana’s not my… Uh, I don’t need any personal servers.”
“The other one. The other PeaceKeeper. I know PeaceKeepers recreate and…”
“You ‘know’ a lot, don’t you?” Crichton mumbled. “Look, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know if I can help you. We could give you a lift, maybe, take you somewhere…”
“Please, captain,” she pleaded. “I can be, umm, very creative.” She ran one hand up his thigh while reaching the other one to snake around his neck.
He leaned back out of her grasp and grabbed her wrists again. “Listen. I’m not a PeaceKeeper. I’m not a captain. But if all you want is a lift to another planet, maybe we can help you.” She looked puzzled and Crichton gave her a very brief explanation of Moya and her crew without really telling her anything about them. He offered to take her with them. “But I don’t know where, what planet. Or how long… And, frankly, I can’t even promise your safety.”
She looked into his friendly, sincere blue eyes and felt her heart skip a beat when he tilted his head. “Captain…”
“John. I told you I’m not a captain. Call me John.”
Mistaking his friendly nature, she slid closer to him and stroked his arm. “John,” she purred. “I can be very grateful, John. Very, very grateful.” She grinned while imagining that this one time, being ‘grateful’ could be as much fun for herself as it was for the other person.
Crichton pulled back one more time from her roaming hands and softly said, “Beka, it’s not going to be like that. I can be your friend. No more.” He looked at her crestfallen expression and took her hands in his. “If you’re coming, we have to leave now.”
She nodded and Crichton hit his comm badge. “Aeryn. Are you there?”
“Crichton! Where are you?” came Aeryn’s answering voice. “You were supposed to be back by now. We’re on the transport pod and ready to go. Are you coming?”
“Yeah, Aeryn. I’m coming now. Beka is coming with me. She’s in some kind of trouble.”
“Are you in trouble, John?” Aeryn asked, the worry evident in her voice.
“No, not yet. Look, we’re leaving now and we may have to blast off in a hurry. Get the engines revving and be ready to hit the road.”
“John, you wait there and I’ll come get you.”
“No, Aeryn,” he ordered softly but firmly. “I need you to get the pod ready. And D’Argo’s still here. We’re on the way.” He cut off her protests by turning off his comm. “Let’s go,” he said to Beka.
Listening to the tone of the exchange behind the words, Beka understood why Crichton had rebuffed her.
As they were leaving, he said, “Party’s over, D’Argo. Sorry, no last call.” Beka started to turn to ask Crichton what he meant when the large Luxan seated by the door, stood. Beka jumped back in surprise and fear. “He’s with me,” Crichton explained. With one hand on Beka’s arm to lead her out the door, Crichton lightly punched D’Argo on his arm. “See, I didn’t need you, Big Guy.”
“We’re not back on Moya, yet, John,” D’Argo’s deep voice reminded him. “And trouble does seem to find you.”
It was getting dark outside when they emerged from the tavern. The trio remained alert as they traversed through the town. The two men occasionally made derisive remarks to each other, their tone belying any real animosity. Beka marveled at how well they worked as a team. A few times when someone appeared to be paying undue attention to them, the men moved without speaking to form a wall, effectively protecting her.
Reaching the edge of the town, Beka saw the transport pod in the clearing ahead of them. She let out a yelp of glee and flashed Crichton a huge smile when he turned to look at her. He caught a movement at the edge of his peripheral vision as Beka lunged at him to give him a hug.
Crichton saw her leap toward him, heard a crackling, lightning-like sound, and saw her face crumple as she fell. Crichton’s gun was in his hand before Beka hit the ground and he started firing shots at the men that had appeared so suddenly.
Beka lay on the ground and watched the Peacekeeper female burst out of the transport pod, pulse rifle in her hand, firing shots as she ran to stand beside Crichton. The Luxan leaned over her, quickly picked Beka up, and carried her, running, to the pod. She saw Crichton and Aeryn splaying shots as they walked backwards to the pod. Almost as if coordinated, she saw both of them reach out, pulling the other one into the pod.
“Chiana, let’s get out of here!” Aeryn yelled, as the pod door closed. The last things Beka saw through the pod doors as they closed were mud-eyes over a grizzly, satisfied grin.
In the safety of space, Crichton and Aeryn looked at each other as if checking to make sure the other was uninjured, then they turned their attention to where Beka lay on the floor. D’Argo had placed a blanket over her and now sat by her side, carefully avoiding the pool of blood around her.
Crichton started to crouch down but D’Argo stood and grabbed his arm, pulling him back upright. “Sorry, John,” he said sadly, still holding his friend’s arm.
“Shit,” Crichton whispered. He crouched down then and pulled the blanket over her face. He kept vigil for a few microts before standing and walking over to a window.
D’Argo stood next to him. “She said, ‘Thank-you’.”
“For what?” Crichton asked, looking out the window, his voice a mixture of bitterness and frustration.
“Letting her die free? Trying to help her? Being her friend?”
“Yeah, I was a big help.”
D’Argo gently squeezed his friend’s shoulder and Crichton nodded to acknowledge his support. Aeryn walked over and stood by Crichton’s side as D’Argo went to help Chiana land the pod on Moya.
“You can’t save the universe, John,” she softly said as she leaned against him.
Placing an arm around her shoulders, but never taking his gaze away from the window, he quietly replied, “I can try.”
She smiled at his spirit and looked up at his sad blue eyes. “Yes,” she agreed. “We can try.”
She watched a slow smile form on his strong, handsome face.
END