Reconciliation fic 
Title: "Cupid" 
Author: KimberlyBlue

Uh-oh another entry from the twisted mind of Kimberly Blue.... 


Disclaimer: I don't own Farscape...but what if I did?....hmmm? What would you do
then? Well anyway, you know the drill... 



Cupid 
by Kimberly Blue 




Aeryn smiled at her pillow. It turned to a sneer as she caught the expression
crossing her face. Frell him, she thought, it won’t work. She swept the fragile
flower onto the floor and chuckled as she crushed it under her boot. She tried
to be annoyed with all the trinkets and surprises he’d been leaving for her, but
those cakes were delicious. And at least he’d been staying out of her sight. 



Crichton froze as he walked across his room. He inhaled deeply. He wondered if
he was losing his mind. The fragrance... Aeryn. Aeryn’s hair. Had she been here?
Maybe she’d been looking for him. He had wanted to go to her so many times, but
had held himself back. How much time could he let pass before he started to
crack? He wiped his face with one hand. Damn. The scent was gone. 



What the frell...?! The garment was a luscious fabric with a shimmer that seemed
to change color even as she looked at it. This was by far the most extravagant
of his gifts. There were bits of decorative lace and ornate jeweled buttons
along the hem. She was almost afraid to touch it, yet she had the urge to snatch
it up and tear it to pieces. She smiled. It was so unlike her usual attire but
it fascinated her. She wondered why he ever thought of it for her. As much as
she wanted to hate it, she had to put it on. 




There it was again. The aromatic oils that Aeryn used in her hair. The smell
lingered as if they’d just passed each other in the doorway. But if she was
looking for him, well, he wasn’t that hard to find and he doubted that she had
been hanging out in his room while he was away. He felt haunted. He felt crazy.
He collapsed onto his bunk and buried his face in his pillow. The pillow that
also seemed to hold Aeryn’s scent. 



If John had been paying attention, he would’ve noticed that D’Argo had stopped
talking in the middle of a sentence. D’Argo’s eyes were on the figure at the
door. Aeryn, in her gown, was breathtaking. She was draped in blue-green that
had a translucent haze of amber. With each step, the light caught a different
shade in the intricately woven thread, and the brilliance radiated from her like
heatwaves. Each sway of her hips gently swished the fabric in an almost
melodious whisper. She had piled her hair up in several knots of curl-tipped
braids, stray ringlets falling to frame her face. She had nothing to wear but
her boots, so she was walking barefoot, padding silently across the cool floor
of the center chamber. She picked up a cup and sipped the liquid inside, feeling
the silence and the weight of their eyes. Her nerves were stretched tightly. Why
had she come here? She quickly turned and left the room, breaking into a run as
she reached the corridor. She raced back toward her quarters clutching the hem
of her gown and thinking of Crichton. 



The hand slowly brought out the fragrance atomizer it had snatched several solar
days before. It slowly depressed the trigger, sending a mist of fragrance across
Crichton’s bed. 



The same hand placed another fresh bud on Aeryn’s pillow. 



She did not come dressed like that for a drink, he thought. He was sitting on
his bed, smelling her again. He was wound so tightly, he thought he might jump
out of his skin and dance with himself. Was she trying to mess with his head? 



She stormed toward his room, cheeks flushed, teeth bared and her hair flying
wildly behind her. This dren had to stop before she imploded. She clutched the
wilting flower in her fist. He had to stop torturing her. She entered his room
screaming. “I am trying not to hate you, you know. So you have to make me hate
myself.” 

He screamed back at her. “I am trying to stay away from you, but you’re always
in my face!” 

She had to be angry or she’d cry. She swung at him, not aiming for anything,
just wanting to strike out at him. He caught her wrist and pulled her closer.
“What is going on here Aeryn?” She kissed him. She couldn’t stop herself - he
was so frelling close and...he was kissing her back. His hands were tangled in
her hair and hers were roaming across his back, feeling his hard muscles and
pulling him tighter to her. 

They fell onto his bed together, each clutching the other as if they were trying
to get away; gasping as if they could breathe each other in. Their clothes were
finally shed and in a heap on the floor. Skin was pressed on skin... 



And outside the door, the hand covered the mouth and Rygel, quite satisfied,
smiled. 



End