&fic;

 

Linear Progression

by sugargroupie

Pairing: John/Caroline

R, 2,327 words

Summary: ...she thinks she has the best of both worlds.

Disclaimer: Not mine; O'Bannon, Henson, Kemper, et. al.

Notes: Written for the Freeverse Challenge. Spoilers up to Terra Firma. Many thanks to StarsGoBlue for betaing this. Mistakes remain mine.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Physics' linear progressions explain
nothing. There are no systematic laws
for the heart, save one: it beats.

1.

Caroline Wallace is the ghost of Christmas past and John Crichton is back from the dead. It shouldn't surprise her that there is an alien who calls herself Aeryn Sun sitting in the Crichtons' living room.

It shouldn't, but it does but only for a moment, because Caroline can't take her eyes off John, can't believe he's back from wherever the hell he's been. Her fingers brush against her lips, savoring the taste of him after four years. A kiss isn't all she wants, but she can be patient for the time being.

She spends most of the evening observing John; how he shies away from her touch before glancing quickly at Aeryn and then away. How he thinks no one notices his shaking hands and nervous habits. The differences are startling, but she reminds herself that he was never supposed to come back; he hasn't lived on Earth in four years.

How could he not change?

*

"Nice meeting you," she says to Aeryn. The goodbye is filtered through a tense awkwardness, and Caroline isn't exactly sure how she's supposed to act around this woman.

After hugging Jack and Olivia, she opens the door, and then turns to John. "Walk me to my car." She parked in the driveway, but that isn't the point. There are things that need to be said, preferably without an alien audience.

Opening the car door, Caroline drops the keys in the front seat and turns to face John, leaving very little space between them. He takes a step back and she pretends not to notice. "So," she sighs. "That was interesting."

"With you Caroline, they always are." He doesn't smile.

"I see you channeled your inner Captain Kirk while you were gone."

John cants his head in confusion. "Aeryn? No... Aeryn's just a friend. A shipmate. She's a helluva pilot."

Caroline smiles coyly. "Oh, so that's what the two of you bonded over? Shared a few beers, swapped flight stories." She rolls her eyes, not sure why she's goading him for an answer, or why it's so important to know.

John smiles, eyes bright in the crisp cool evening. "Well it's not exactly beer, but after a couple of bottles it knocks you on your ass real good. Wouldn't know the difference."

She slides her hand in his, gripping his fingers briefly before he has a chance to react. "Are you going to be too busy playing diplomat to have a drink with me?" Caroline suddenly grins and pokes him in the chest. "And a dance. You owe me from last time."

After a moment's hesitation he says, "I'll let you know."

She nods. "I'll hold you to that."

*

They meet at a bar far out from her usual haunts, and when John arrives Caroline realizes why. He's flanked by two aliens; one is big and red with tentacles... and big. The other is gray and, if it's possible, manages to stand out even more than the other. This is what she expects aliens to look like.

John spots her immediately and as he makes his way over she realizes belatedly that they're going to need a bigger table.

"Hi," Caroline says, eyes darting back and forth between John and his friends. After a bit of stumbling she learns their names are D'Argo and Chiana. Though their English isn't as fluid as Aeryn's, she understands them well enough. D'Argo sighs deeply, gruff voice sending tingles up her spine. "I need alcohol. As much as you can provide."

John laughs and smacks him on the shoulder. "Long day, big guy?"

"My friend, you have no idea. Your people have severely tested my patience."

Caroline catches the bartender's attention and starts a tab.

*

Chiana is very friendly, curling around John and clinging to D'Argo; smiling and dancing with everyone in the bar.

Caroline tried meeting the girl beer for beer, and now she is decidedly drunk, thinking of nothing more than taking John home with her for hours of sex until they both pass out.

"Y-you... frelling Crichton...?" Chiana's warm breath tickles her ear, surprising her at the proximity.

"Uh... what?"

Chiana shrugs thin shoulders. "S'nothin. Just askin'."

"No, it's not that. I'd answer your question if I knew what it meant." Though she has an idea.

Chiana's laugh is musical and it seems like half the bar gawks in their direction. John insinuates himself between both women, light mood seeping through his fa?de with the aid of alcohol. "What are you girls up to?"

Caroline chews on her bottom lip, meeting Chiana's dark eyes she's never seen eyes so black before and smiles up at John. "What does frelling mean?"

He chokes on his beer and Chiana laughs again.

*

It amazes her how well she remembers his touch, when it was absent for so long.

The memories rush back to Caroline now in an overload of sensation as they stumble through her living room in the dark. She wonders if he remembers how often their nights ended like this, navigating the sharp edges of her coffee table and the big ass ratty chair she could never throw away.

They crash to her bed and John is kissing her so hard she can barely breathe. She wants to see his eyes and hear his voice, but he's not talking and he hasn't looked at her since they arrived at her place.

His hands aren't like she remembers. There's no warmth in his caress, no soft kisses on exposed skin. They are cold, methodical, rushed, as he yanks down her pants and underwear. She says his name because this is happening more quickly than even she imagined, but he doesn't respond. He presses sloppy kisses up her inner thigh and then his tongue is hot scalding, between her legs. John lays her out with long quick strokes, teasing her clit and she giggles drunkenly. She whispers for him to add fingers and slow down but he does neither. Caroline climaxes and he's off his knees before she can settle within herself again.

"John, what is it?" She can barely think, but something isn't right. He's staring at her but not really there, fidgeting with his hands, patting himself down in frantic search.

"What's wrong?" she tries again.

"Listen, I gotta go. I can't... I can't be here." He shakes his head, an internal argument.

"Wait..." she calls, but he's already gone.

Caroline thinks about this later; how the sex had gone wrong, where she'd zigged when he'd zagged and thrown them off course. She circles back to the differences, and maybe he's not entirely John Crichton anymore.

And it occurs to her, just now, that John is running away from not just her, but the entire life he left on Earth.

 

2.

When he appears at her apartment door days later, Caroline is only a little surprised.

"John, what are you doing here?"

He hunches his shoulders, out of place and out of body from the old John Crichton she used to know. She's missed years of his life and it's never been more glaringly obvious than now; so far removed from the sex and companionship they once shared.

"Do you want to come in?" A cool, comfortable breeze skims her bare arms and legs and she's not at all unnerved standing in front of John in a singlet and panties.

Opting to meet his gaze head on, Caroline observes John from across the threshold. He looks unsure, like he's seconds away from bolting if she makes the wrong move or says the wrong thing. It gives her pause, because as much as Caroline wants to invite him in go back to the time when he didn't ask for permission to fuck her and wasn't afraid to admit that he wanted to she cannot make the decision for him.

She wants to, of course... but she won't.

"I- I don't really know why I'm here," he begins hesitantly, voice trickling down to a murmur when he speaks again. "Seems like I don't know much about anything lately..."

The effort he makes brings a small smile to her face, the only outward sign she allows herself.

John leans forward into the doorframe, rubs his thumb across his chin and gives a short nod as if he's just made a decision. "Look Caroline, I'm here because I want to be here. Other than that... I don't know what else to say."

She wants to tell him there's nothing else to say; they've never needed platitudes and empty promises between them. All she's ever wanted from him is honesty, and though he's obviously keeping something from her even now, she reads no lies in his countenance. His presence is enough.

"That's all I need to hear." She grabs his hand and pulls him back into her life.

*

Their fingers touch briefly as she presses a cold beer into his hand, using alcohol as a buffer against his still rough edges. She drops beside him on the couch, thighs and hips touching, not bothering to fill in the silence and finding that it isn't necessary to do so.

Caroline wants to give this to him, a reprieve from whatever it is he's running from but John isn't talking, and she's not sure she has the words or patience to sift through the layers he's buried himself under. All she can offer him is a window to the past and the comfort of a warm body. Placing their bottles on the coffee table, she leans into his space, brushing her mouth against his before sliding her tongue between his lips. He doesn't hesitate or push her away and for that she is grateful.

*

Her mouth is warm and wet on his sex, cheeks hollow as she works him over, pulls moans from his throat. Caroline meets his gaze briefly, and for the time being John is unfiltered and present, blue eyes sharply focused as his hips buck and strain beneath her. Spreading her fingers around his balls, she gives a gentle squeeze as she contemplates what to do next. She wants to take her time and reacquaint herself with him once more, but something holds her back and she tries another tactic instead.

Warm hands and lips cover his body and she's not giving him an opportunity to refuse her this chance to explore. The press of his mouth against hers is tentative at first, giving way to more demanding kisses and Caroline is reminded of the way it used to be. Uncomplicated and effortless; raw and centered.

Reaching inside her bedside table she reveals a condom, pausing as her eyes travel up his body to meet his gaze. He's still John Crichton and she trusts him, but she has no clue how sex with aliens works and she wants to keep it that way.

With a short nod from John she tears open the packet, rolling the rubber down on his shaft with lingering fingertips. The calluses of his hands rub against her cheeks as he brings her mouth to his and whispers, "thank you," against her lips. Caroline tilts backward, wondering about the sheer relief bleeding through his voice.

She can't won't ask what happened to him again.

John's hands are familiar; his grip solid on her hips and he maneuvers around until his chest is against her back. His lips flutter against her shoulder and neck, directing her to bend deeply at the waist. And then he is inside her, thrusting deep as Caroline's past merges with her present.

 

3.

Caroline knows her life has reached far beyond X-Files proportions when she gives an alien love advice.

Aeryn Sun has a dark and intense beauty that is fiercely intimidating. They are polar opposites; human and Sebacean, but she loves John Crichton and that is something Caroline can understand, at least on a superficial level. She is not, has never been, in love with John; isn't desperate and needy for him and she can't even begin to understand the depth of their feelings.

Caroline wants what's best for him, but she's not a saint. Aeryn has his heart, but Caroline has her own memories of what she shared with John. She's comfortable with tactility, the slickness of moist skin and nimble fingers. There is no love, but when the friction of his fingers coaxes her into an orgasm her heart is a steel drum, and she thinks she has the best of both worlds.

*

By the time Caroline's car screeches to a halt in Jack Crichton's driveway, John is already preparing to leave. She's not clear on the details, but the house resembles the path of a unnatural disaster and she hears whispers of hostile aliens.

Aeryn is here her presence an odd comfort to Caroline, knowing that John is not alone. She watches the woman interact with him, so much passing between them, and hopes that Aeryn is just as stubborn in getting him back as he is in pushing her away.

Hazel eyes meet steel grey and there's a mutual nod between both women fight for him; I will before Aeryn stalks away.

"Hey cowboy."

"Caroline, hey."

"You weren't leaving without saying goodbye, were you?"

"There's a lot going on..."

"I know," she interrupts, sighs deeply and stares into his eyes as if committing them to memory. "You take care of yourself out there."

John nods shortly and her gaze follows his hand hovering over his gun. "I've got it covered."

"Hmm... and stop being a bastard." He starts at the advice and a mischievous glint lights her eyes. "Fix it, and be happy."

Reading him has been damn near impossible, but she can tell he's processing her words, parsing her sudden interest in his life so far removed from Earth. "I've gotta go."

He draws back into himself, distance creeping into his eyes and the moment is lost.

Caroline bites her lip and kisses him goodbye.

*

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