Pilot's Home :

For some time now, the crew of Moya has been acting quite strangely. When they're not fighting, they're copulating, and quite often in ways that boggle the imagination. Zhaan has added evening romps with Chiana to her daily routine, immediately following her meditations.

Aeryn and John are moving their romance up several notches, although they have yet to, as John puts it, "consummate the relationship," whatever that means.

What worries me, however, is the mood that D'Argo has been in for the last few days. Immediately following his coupling with Rygel, he seemed to back out of his hyper-rage, but lately, it's come back with a vengeance. I'm just afraid that the next one of us who finds themselves on the receiving end of this is going to regret it.

But then, what do I know? Nobody's even made a token effort to include me in any of their fun in the last few days, either. They've been avoiding me, and I don't know why. What's bothersome about it is that I, too, have been having desires to touch the others.

Oh, no. The DRDs are flooding my viewscreens again.

Viewscreen 2 : Galley

"Ok, open 'em." At Johns command, Aeryn took her hands from over her eyes. To her amazement, he had completely transformed their dining room - instead of a barracks style galley, the lighting was dim - to her further amusement, the only light there was coming from burning food cubes. He had apparently stuffed bits of string in them, lit them, and they were burning quite nicely.

"This is how humans cook, is it? Setting fire to their food?" Aeryn grinned at him, letting him know that she was kidding with him. She let her senses be delighted by the aromas of his rigged candle - perhaps food cubes had meant to be used this way, instead of as comestibles? As her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that it wasn't the burning food cubes she smelled - a pity, she thought, because she was hoping there was something pleasant about them - but rather, two plates of wholly unfamiliar foodstuffs, steam gently rising from them. "What is this lovely smelling food?" she asked, completely amazed. She didn't remember him buying anything like this on the commerce planet.

"This, my dear, is what my daddy used to call an aphrodisiac. I call it spaghetti marinara. You be the judge."

"Afro-what?"

"Never mind. Not important. What is important, however, is that you eat."

"But where did you get this stuff? I remember you coming back with some fruit, some white powder, and some horrible smelling shells. This is what you made of this? Humans are more resourceful than I thought."

"That's not saying much, Aeryn. You don't seem to think we're all that resourceful to start with."

She planted her lips on his to silence him. "Shut up, Crichton. Let's eat."

Viewscreen 1 : Hallway outside of the Galley

"Look at how happy he is with her," D'Argo mumbled under his breath. "He thinks he loves her. He has no idea what real love is. He doesn't know what it means to be willing to lay down your life in battle for your beloved, only to lay down beside them later. And he doesn't know how badly he hurts me, to lay down beside her after I have risked myself so many times for him."

D'Argo tiptoed back down the hall, back towards his quarters. He picked up a DRD and held it in place while the doors shut on it, squinting as the sparks flew out of it's shattering body.

"Must you keep destroying my DRDs, D'Argo?" I asked with growing impatience. I'm not sure if he really understands that there is a limited supply of them. Crichton has tried to explain how, to D'Argo, a DRD is like a stress ball, but I don't see how stress can ball up. I'm under constant stress, and I don't ball up. I think they're both just incapable of dealing with their situations. I can't tell you how much D'Argo's destructive tendencies make me want to open the hangar doors while he's practicing his swordplay in there alone.

"I'm sorry," he barked, and I could tell he meant it. "I just don't know what's wrong with me." That was a lie, but how could he say that he was in love with John, and it hurt him too much to see him with Aeryn? How could he admit it to Pilot if he couldn't admit it to John?

How much of a coward was he?

He let out a mighty bellow of rage. "I am not a coward!"

He raced off in the direction of the galley. Upon his arrival, he threw open the doors, startling John and Aeryn. They separated from each other in shock, both reacting to internal "fight or flight" mechanisms. Instinctively, John put himself between D'Argo and Aeryn, seeing the crazed look in the Luxan's eyes.

What am I doing, he thought. She can outfight me with her hands tied behind her back. Let her fuck with him.

"Easy, big guy," he said, trying to calm down the enraged D'Argo. "You don't really want to hurt either of us."

"Of course I don't want to hurt you. Especially you, John."

Before John or Aeryn could react, D'Argo had crossed the distance between them, and he placed his mouth on John's, pulling him close, kissing him more deeply, more passionately, than he had even kissed his darling Lo'Laan. Pulling away, he said, "I love you. I have loved you since the day you showed me what you really are, when you told Aeryn how much more she could be. I learned how much more I could be. How much we could be."

Slowly, awareness of what was going on around him began to sink into John. He realized what had just occurred, and what was being said to him. He also started becoming aware of what was happening to himself- and the enormous erection that he had.

He wasn't the only one to notice. Aeryn had watched the huge bulge appear in the front of Crichton's clothing, and dashed out of the room, her eyes clogged with tears.

"Nice going, you tentacled freak." John hustled out of the room, intent on finding Aeryn.

D'Argo sat down at the table with his head in his hands. "How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself lose control like this? Why did my blood not tell me the right thing to do? I must apologize. He should be given some time to cool down first, but I will not cease to be ashamed of myself until I make things right with John. I must atone."

Viewscreen 3 : Outside Aeryn's Quarters

"C'mon, Aeryn, lemme in!"

John pounded his fist against the door, driving Aeryn to distraction.

"Go away. You didn't tell me that you were a man toy. You lied to me, John Crichton, and I want nothing to do with you right now."

Angrily she threw herself onto the bed, tears streaming out of her eyes, sobs wracking her body.

"How could I have thought that I was starting to love him?"

She cursed herself for her weakness, for forgetting her training and place in life. She tried remembering the mantra she told herself to block out the pains she endured during training. "A peacekeeper feels no pain. A peacekeeper feels nothing. A peacekeeper is a well-oiled machine, that works to complete its objective. A peacekeeper feels no pain. A peacekeeper..." Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her door opening.

"Aeryn, will you just listen to me for a minute?"

"How did you get in here? Did you hack my code?"

Over the com, I answered. "I had to give him the code. I fear it's the only way to keep him safe right now. D'Argo is headed down the corridor, and he doesn't look at all happy. When he's in this type of mood, I find it's best if he doesn't have easy access to Crichton. I've also taken the liberty of changing the code, so you can't throw him out until we sort out the Luxan. I hope that won't be too much of an inconvenience."

"Frelling idiot", Aeryn hissed.

Turning to John, she spat, "Pilot may be kind, but he doesn't know how much he's just harmed you. Instead of being out there with your true love, you're in here with the one who wants to kill you."

"Thank God your pulse rifle is on the bridge."

She whispered, "Won't help you."

Before John could even begin to react, her heel connected squarely with his jaw. In the same sweeping motion, she spun on her heel, dropping to a crouch, and took his legs out from under him with a swift kick to the back of the knees.

John had lost consciousness before he even hit the floor. His last thought before the world faded to black was a time when he was a little boy, and his father had been teaching him to catch a baseball. He had been promised a pop fly to catch, but his dad had hit a grounder that bounced up and hit him smack between the eyes.

Aeryn had her foot poised over John's neck, ready to crush his throat, when she heard the sound of a rifle charging. Looking up, she saw that I had opened the door for D'Argo, who was pointing his Qualta Blade at her.

"Only a true barbarian and coward would kill a defenseless opponent."

Without taking his eyes or his aim off of her he knelt down, and grabbed Crichton under the armpits with his free arm. Walking backwards, and dragging Crichton out of the room, he ordered me to keep her locked in her quarters until she had cooled down.

Viewscreen 1 : Crichton's Quarters

John awoke with a start. "Dad! You said a pop fly!", he cried out. Only it wasn't the face of his father he realized he was looking into. He was staring into the face of D'Argo, who was eyeing him with such a look of sweetness and love, that for a moment, but only for a moment, John forgot his anger at him. As his mind tried to piece together what, exactly, had happened, he watched with a kind of detached disinterest as D'Argo cleaned the last of the blood of John's lips, and put a cold compress on it.

"It's good to see you're awake. You've only been out for a couple of minutes so there must not be any permanent damage."

"You! You did this to me! This is all your fault."

"I did nothing to you, John Crichton. Aeryn beat the dren out of you, however, and I'm trying to heal your wounds."

"Yeah, well, Aeryn wouldn't have wanted to fuck me up if it hadn't been for you. Where the fuck do you get off coming on to me like that?"

"I wanted to apologize to you for that. It was wrong of me to force myself upon you like that. It shames me that I lost control of my own impulses. I hope you can find a way to forgive me one day. I can't stand to see your anger at me."

"Yeah, well, how would you like it if you were on a date, and I just walked up and-", for the life of him, Crichton couldn't figure out why he did this, but he did.

Before he finished his sentence, he threw his arms around D'Argo, and threw him backwards onto the bed, his mouth on D'Argo's, his tongue forcing it's way into the Luxan's mouth. Almost immediately, his erection returned, harder than it had ever been before. His hands slid under the bottom of D'Argo's black silken top, and he flung it over his shoulder. His hands roamed over the incredibly muscular, but completely hairless chest of the Luxan. Completely in a frenzy, he started kissing and nibbling and sucking on all of him - his ears, his chin, his neck. He began to grind his body against him, feeling the hardness that each had, feeling the warmth of D'Argo's body pressed against his throbbing cock.

Feverishly, he kissed his way down D'Argo's chest and stomach, following each of the intricately carved muscles. The lines around his pectorals, the crevices created by his supremely toned abdomen, further and further down he dragged his tongue, reveling in the smells, the feel, the tastes of the Luxan's body.

With more force than he thought he possessed, he tore D'Argo's pants off, and gasped at the wonder he had unleashed. Like a man who had crawled through the desert happening upon a water fountain, he grabbed the Luxan's cock with both hands, and thrust his mouth down upon it. D'Argo threw his head back in pleasure, his hands running through Crichton's hair, tracing a path along his ears, his fingers pressing lightly against the back of the other man's neck. His breathing and the bucking of his hips began to match pace with the bobbing of Crichton's head on his painfully stiff shaft, and he got a firmer grip on John's head.

John removed his top hand from the thick pole protruding from his mouth. He moistened it with his saliva, and then, rather unceremoniously, inserted it into D'Argo's puckered anus. His other hand was stroking D'Argo's cock, gently, up and down, in rhythm with his mouth, and he matched speeds with the finger slowly sliding in and out of the Luxan's ass. He could feel his partner's dick get thicker and harder in his mouth, and stepped up the pace. Pushing himself all the way down to his throat on the immense muscle, and forcing his finger as far into D'Argo as possible, he was treated to a gush of hot, milky liquid, as D'Argo erupted in a volcano of orgasmic bliss. The Luxan's grip on the back of John's head had increased so much that the end of his shaft began to penetrate John's throat, and wave after wave of fluid poured straight down into him. He felt it's warmth as it filled him, gushing into him, along with a torrent of moans of delight from its donor. He pulled his head back, and continued to stroke the thick cock in his hand, milking every last drop out of the Luxan, running his tongue from the base of the large penis to the tip to lick off each drop. Every time he did this, a shudder of pleasure ran through D'Argo, making his eyes roll back into his head for a moment, and his smile to widen.

He lifted his head up and looked down at John in amazement. John met his eyes, and said, "Well, I guess you would like it if I did that." With that, they both burst out laughing, as John slid his way up D'Argo's body, cuddling up close to him.

"Whatever shall I do with you, John Crichton?" D'Argo purred.

"I think the better question is what should you do to me?"

Pilot's home :

Of course, there is much more to the story, and I apologize that it's taken so long for me to tell this much. Sadly, my human contact, the one who transcribes this, has been working 2 full time jobs as of late, and has been rather pressed for time, and I don't wish to make his life any harder than it has to be. If you want, you can write him at mutt_one@bellsouth.net - he loves it.