PART ONE

John rocked back and forth on his feet, his two hands anchored at the bar. The jangling music did nothing to put him at ease; neither did being a whitish-tan color amidst all this red Sykaran flesh. In fact, he was moving beyond irritated and closing in on 'chafed'. It had started with Aeryn and Spanky making fun of him for running from D'Argo for three days straight.

Yeah, like Spanky wouldn't have had the Hynerian equivalent of a heart attack if it had been *him* the Luxan was stalking.

John nearly growled at Aeryn as he continued to scan the bar. She cast him a mocking smirk and turned away, sneering at the dancing Sykarans.

He could still hear her saying it: "You hide very well. You must have had a lot of practice."

John would've flipped her the bird, but he somehow doubted that it was a universal gesture.

He'd learned all about Luxan Hyper Rage from Pilot when he'd been crawling through access shafts to save his life -- and literally his ass -- from a decidedly cranky D'Argo. Territorial impulses, dominance over other males...

So Luxan Hyper Rage had something to do with mating habits. This fact didn't exactly thrill John; he'd never gone in for pain with his sex. Well, not that kind of pain, anyway. A little bit of scratching, biting and rough stuff was more than all right. Hell,

even fooling around with the big guy would be all right. He'd only limited himself to the female gender on Earth because it had been easier. John didn't think he was going back home anytime soon, so he failed to see why he should let certain sexual Earth habits continue.

Getting bent double and pounded into oblivion by a guy who had a sword and a nasty temper might be a nice bed time fantasy, but John wasn't real eager to put it into practice. If D'Argo had his way, John probably wouldn't be able to walk for a week. Or sit down.

Or perform ... other ... important bodily functions.

Maybe D'Argo hadn't gone after Rygel because the Hynerian wasn't an anthropoid biped. Didn't have the right equipment, in essence.

Yeah, John thought. Lucky me.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw a figure that was taller and broader than most of the others. With tentacles. And a beard. D'Argo. He turned to get a better look and found himself locking eyes with the big Luxan.

Uh-oh.

D'Argo was coming towards him.

Smooth move, John told himself. He shoved himself away from the bar and dived through the crowd of red, writhing bodies. He hadn't gone more than a few feet before he felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder.

When D'Argo spun him around and slammed him back into the bar, John could almost feel the adrenaline spill into his veins. The Luxan seemed to be everywhere, moving in to cage John with his strong arms. A thigh was shoved between John's own, D'Argo's hips pinning his pelvis to the counter.

John was startled for a moment and just let D'Argo press against him, enjoying the feel of muscle meeting muscle. Strength against strength.

And then his brain caught up with his hormones.

Fight, flight or fuck? he asked himself.

"Get off of me or I'll hurt you!" he found himself saying. Then punching. His knuckles, upon coming into repeated contact with D'Argo's flat nose, were screaming at him to stop.

Well, answers that question. But being a guy, he probably would've chosen fuck if they hadn't been in such a public place.

Especially since D'Argo's laughter was making him vibrate against John in interesting ways. Mmm...yeah, he liked that. He liked the way the laughter rubbed him against D'Argo's chest and twitched D'Argo's hips.  Like the feel of two hearts beating against his one.

John felt that heart stutter and spike as D'Argo gathered him up into a rib-crushing hug. But that was okay, because D'Argo was crushing his hips closer, too. Then D'Argo pulled him upright and John *really* couldn't breathe.

"This is the end of Hyper Rage?" he wheezed into one of D'Argo's aural orifices. "I get hugged to death?"

D'Argo's laughter rumbled again and it sounded like thunder to John, with his ear smashed against D'Argo's broad chest. The Luxan's tentacles and beard were obscuring John's vision. And D'Argo smelled...kinda spicy. Almost like ginger, but not quite.

"It's so good to see you, Crichton," D'Argo said. "So good to see you!"

John felt himself being lifted like a Raggedy Andy doll and dropped onto his feet. He hated that, damnit. He was a grown man. He could stand up on his own.

And yeah, maybe he was cranky. 'Cause D'Argo, or more

importantly, little D'Argo, didn't seem all that *excited* to see him. And John was actually feeling ... disappointed by it.

So the $64,000 question, Johnny, he asked himself, is when did you prime yourself to get majorly boinked by the big guy?

PART TWO

John looked on with satisfaction as Aeryn delivered a wallop to D'Argo's goofy head. The Luxan had been nattering on about contentment in this dreamy tone of voice that John had never heard him use before.

Sure, everything was just peachy keen. John would believe that when D'Argo passed him the hookah pipe.

It was John's turn to smirk when Aeryn told D'Argo to stop nancing around and act like a warrior. It appeared he wasn't the only one who wanted the old, crusty D'Argo back.

It was nice to see D'Argo laughing and smiling, but at the same time, it was just plain freaky.

John rolled his neck and shifted his weight, still feeling a little wrenched out of sorts from D'Argo's enthusiastic greeting. And John really didn't like the way D'Argo was eyeing some native chick across the bar with the Luxan equivalent of a come-hither look. A chick he immediately stopped eyeing at the appearance of some curly-haired Sykaran chippie at D'Argo's shoulder. A very friendly Sykaran, at that.

Who's this? John sniped to himself.

He watched with no small amount of disbelief as D'Argo rose to leave with said Sykaran chippie without really saying good night.

Whoa, what's that feeling, Johnny? he thought. Jealousy? You're actually *jealous*?

John cleared his throat to cover his discomfort and tried to make a joke. "My boy D'Argo, into the Promise Land." He knew he was ruining the effect by staring at D'Argo's rapidly disappearing form like a jilted date. He couldn't help himself.

Now he knew how Katy Levine had felt when he abandoned her at a house party in eleventh grade. Talk about an ego trounce.

Aeryn snorted behind him. "Yes, and he's left his brain behind."

John scrambled for an appropriate comment, but his usual verbosity had deserted him. D'Argo had majorly shifted gears, here. He'd gone from gunning for John's ass to drooling over a red-skinned Sykaran slut.

Be nice, John told himself. You don't know enough about her to call her a slut. And if she's a slut for wanting D'Argo, you'd better tattoo 'slut' to your forehead, too.

Okay. John could play this game. If D'Argo was over the Hyper Rage and back to liking females, he could handle it. Sure, he could.

Or not.

God, John realized, propping himself against the bar. I am a slut.

PART THREE

"I say we leave him."

John gritted his teeth. His fingers twitched with the urge to pull his own hair out. "No, no, no. Listen, Woodstock has done something to his head," he told Aeryn. She grimaced and looked back towards Zhaan for her opinion.

Yeah, there was no way he was leaving D'Argo until he found out exactly what was going on. Shit. D'Argo was acting like a fruit loop, Aeryn was doing her butch routine, and now Spanky...

Well, Spanky was lighting up the Sykaran white night. Assassins? Bombs? Frankly, John didn't care. He just wanted to find out where D'Argo had gone.

But Aeryn did have one thing right: the only people who wanted to kill Rygel were the ones who knew him.

John trudged away from the site of the Hynerian's 'assassination attempt', glad that Aeryn was going back up to Moya. That only left Zhaan's calming presence behind him as he searched for D'Argo.

Talk about rude. The big guy hadn't even told them where he was living. They'd had to collar a grinning native, who had pointed them in the right direction.

He reached up and did his best impression of a nonchalant lean before knocking on D'Argo's door, stretching his muscles as he propped one arm high on the door frame. It swung open after a moment and D'Argo's broad form loomed in the doorway.

"How did you find me?"

That sounds real welcoming, John thought, resting his temple against his bicep.

"Oh, we asked around," John said. "You stand out amongst your neighbors."

D'Argo shook himself then, a grin appearing on his battered face. "Come in!"

John shoved away from the door frame and hesitantly followed D'Argo inside the house. Man, talk about mood swings. What the hell was going on?

He glanced around the rooms as D'Argo unfolded a hide-a-bed from the wall and pulling evasive maneuvers whenever he or Zhaan asked a question. Then D'Argo grinned at them again and opened the double-doors to another room.

The curly-haired Sykaran was kneeling on the floor in D'Argo's bedroom, wearing what John would classify as a shit-eating grin.

Ah, John thought. She is a slut. A limber one.

John stared as D'Argo shut the doors to his bedroom and descended upon the grinning Sykaran female.

Yeah, he was definitely jealous now. And pissed off.

"I suppose we will have to wait," Zhaan said behind him. She sounded faintly amused.

A muscle twitched in John's jaw as he glared at the doors. He wanted x-ray vision and pronto. Where was Superman when you needed him?

"Hoo, yeah," he finally answered Zhaan.

"Shall we ready ourselves for bed?"

John managed to tear his eyes off the doors to stare at Zhaan. What? Oh, yeah. Two bodies, one bed.

He really wanted to be in that other bed, and John suspected that Zhaan wouldn't turn that Sykaran female away anymore than D'Argo had. John wondered if he could get away with the old 'switcheroo'.

Logistics. John found himself smiling. He hadn't wanted to plot his way into someone's bed since his sophomore year of college.

John tried to stay cool as Zhaan casually dropped her robe and snuggled under the covers. She smiled up at him and patted the space next to her.

"Come, John. You need rest."

He pulled off his vest and boots and unstrapped his weapon before climbing in next to Zhaan, but decided to remain fully clothed. John settled himself onto his back, feeling oddly tense.

He hadn't really slept in the same bed with anyone since Alex. It felt kinda strange. John could do it, though. It was only Zhaan; she was a priest. He could count on her to be rational.

And then John felt Zhaan shift beside him, already asleep. Her hand landed unerringly on his crotch.

PART FOUR

John felt another spasm roll up from the depths of his stomach and he clutched the pillow tightly, taking out his pain on the fabric. He was in pain. He had a worm in his gut. He was severely pissed off. John writhed and the sheet pulled itself tight about his hips.

He had not had a good day out there in the Sykaran sun. In fact, it hadn't been a good night. Aside from the various, enthusiastic noises coming from D'Argo's room, Zhaan's wandering hands, and Aeryn's on-Comm snarkiness that he'd felt all the way from Moya, John had had ... dreams.

Erotic ones. Of D'Argo.

They'd started with him hiding aboard Moya, running from D'Argo -- a leftover from the three days he'd passed climbing through access shafts to avoid one angry Luxan. But this time, he'd been caught. Hands had reached in and grabbed him as he crawled through one of the access shafts, and had dragged him out into one of Moya's corridors. Hands belonging to D'Argo.

And D'Argo had slammed him against the golden wall scales that looked eerily like ribs. John had been helpless, trapped under D'Argo's sure grip and the press of his hips. Then D'Argo had leaned down and gnawed at Crichton's neck.

Damn, it had felt good. Hot, pointed tongue. Sharp teeth. A male's indifference for inflicting a little pain for pleasure. Just enough pain to *make* it pleasurable.

The rest of the dream hadn't been as clear, maybe because his mind was filling in the blanks of his knowledge. He'd never seen D'Argo naked, but in his dream, D'Argo had been. He'd hauled John back to his quarters and tossed him onto the golden sheets.

Once he'd ripped off -- and that was *ripped* -- John's clothes, D'Argo had peeled off his own. John's dream self had been very impressed. Of course, aside from the Luxan tattoos, D'Argo had looked extremely human underneath his robes.

Maybe his imagination needed to get out more.

Of course, it had done pretty well in getting him laid in his dreams. And it had some interesting ideas about what D'Argo could do with that long tongue.

John grunted, torn from remembrance of the dream as he felt the worm wriggle in his guts. He was going to paint the porcelain again, he just knew it.

Waking up to find out he was kneading Zhaan's hip hadn't exactly tickled him pink. He'd still been dreaming, and in his dream the person he was fondling had had a much less soft body type. And when the owner of said body type had walked out of his bedroom looking like he'd gotten extremely lucky the night before...

Well, John hadn't liked it. Even in his sleep-addled state. He'd liked the look D'Argo gave his Sykaran girlfriend even less when the chippie had strutted out of his bedroom.

Three days with this chick and D'Argo was all over her like white on rice. Blyeurgh. He knew D'Argo was desperate for company, but *man*...

He groaned as the door opened and footsteps shuffled across the floor of D'Argo's apartments. John didn't want to deal with anyone yet. He still felt like he'd contracted a nasty strain of the stomach flu. There was a flash of blue.

Zhaan. John managed to flop over onto his back. He needed to talk to her, to tell her about the worm. See what she had to say.

"You spent the whole day here?" Zhaan asked.

John sighed at the quiet note of disdain in her voice.  "Yeah, eating and throwing up," John rasped.    He looked closer at Zhaan and felt something totally unrelated to the worm crawl up his spine. That serene look ... it didn't appear to be the same one that Zhaan habitually wore. She looked a little vapid, vague around the eyes where she was usually focused and alert.

Well, shit, John realized as the conversation progressed. Whatever's gotten into D'Argo has spread to Zhaan. She got bit by the happy flower child syndrome.

He looked from D'Argo to Zhaan and knew from their carefree expressions that he was definitely on his own. He had two aliens jumped up on some happy drug and a wriggling worm in his belly.

Things couldn't be better.

John reached out and accepted the red-colored clothes D'Argo was handing him. He plucked at the worn fabric and watched Zhaan disappear into D'Argo's bedroom to change.

Well, when in Rome ... you gotta pretend to be nuts from the lead in the wine.

PART FIVE

"Thank you for your assistance."

John stopped in his unsteady walk away from Aeryn Sun.  "Thank you for yours," he mumbled. It was a sincere thank you. He was glad to be rid of that squirming worm that had been roaming about in his gut for two days. And Aeryn had really done a pretty good job at all the scientific stuff; she'd made him proud.

"I'd ... wait," Aeryn said.

John stopped again, this time in disbelief. Was she reading his mind? Had she been reading his mind all along? It would be pretty damn embarrassing if she had...

"Let D'Argo come to you when he's ready," Aeryn continued.

John found himself turning away and shuffling out of room. No, Aeryn probably didn't have a clue about what had been going on in his head. She was referring to the final confrontation where John had finally convinced D'Argo that Tannot was bad with a capital 'B'.

Yeah, having D'Argo threaten his life hadn't made John feel all warm and cozy inside. It had turned him on, of course, but everything about D'Argo seemed to be doing that since Pilot first told him about the Hyper Rage.

At least he'd gotten Zhaan and D'Argo back onto Moya, and maybe given Tanga and her father a fighting chance against the Peacekeepers. And he'd finally managed to tell Volmae, that albino hippie, to stick it where the sun don't shine.

Maybe he would take Aeryn's advice, though, and let the Tannot version of 'Love Potion Number 9' wear off before he talked to D'Argo about what had happened. If they really needed to talk at all.

I mean, we're guys, John thought. We don't talk about anything if we can find a way to weasel out of it.

John decided to take Aeryn's advice. She was a warrior; she probably understood D'Argo better than John did.

He let his feet wander and ended up on the veranda. John tilted his head back and let himself get lost in the unfamiliar stars, unconsciously searching through them for the patterns of his home sky.

John was starting to get a crick in his neck from standing there so long when he heard the door to the veranda slide open.

"John."

He stifled a shiver as D'Argo's deep voice rumbled across the expanse.

You are *not* a Catholic school girl, John boy, he thought. Stop acting like one. Stupid idiot.

"D'Argo," John replied. He was relieved to find that his voice was only a little hoarse.

D'Argo didn't reply right away and eventually John felt D'Argo's presence at his right shoulder.

"I --" D'Argo started to say.

John decided to bite the bullet and met D'Argo's eyes.  The Luxan was struggling for words, for the right apology. Like he didn't know which things he should be sorry for. If he'd been an Earth girl, John would have expected him to be nervously twirling a tentacle like a lock of hair.

And that image was just too weird to contemplate.

His lips curved in a grin. "Yeah, big guy. I know."

D'Argo heaved a relieved breath, which only made John's smile get wider. "Thank you, John."

John shrugged. "Hey, no big deal." He backed up and started to walk away from D'Argo with his usual loose-limbed gait. John paused after a few steps and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, D'Argo?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you feel yourself going into a Hyper Rage, warn me. I might not run so fast." John winked and slowly sauntered towards the veranda door.

He kept looking forward until D'Argo let out a soft, nearly inaudible puff of air. John snuck a peek over his shoulder. His grin nearly split his face as he stepped through the door.

Yeah, D'Argo had definitely been checking out his ass.

The End