&fic;

 

No Chaser

by sugargroupie

R, 1031 words

Summary: she was fed up with the take backs.

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

Notes: Here's another part of the Terra Firma cheat!smut verse, following Walking Underwater and B/Side. This is about as indulgently 'shippy as it gets for me. Written for Camille. Spell-checked, no beta.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

If the cockpit had a distinctive smell, it would have been all over her. Instead, she wore the impressions of flight like worn leather molded to every curve of her body, in every step as she walked in his direction.

Frell that, she swaggered.

Aeryn had never lacked confidence, but her arrogance was so unpretentious, so normal for her, that John had never given it a second thought once he'd gotten used to it.

It was expected, much like the giddiness she couldn't shield from her eyes after climbing from her prowler, coming down from an adrenaline high.

He'd had much time to study Aeryn over the years, and right now the bright-eyed gaze was missing, but the swagger remained. Anger rested on her stiff shoulders, and he knew whatever had her wound up, flying had only taken the edge off.

John sighed, because he knew why she was pissed off. And it was his fault, for talking himself in circles since they'd been on Earth. He'd done a spectacular job of sniffing the laka with an Aeryn chaser; tight and wet, clenching around him, branding him hers. Now she was fed up with the take-backs, and he couldn't blame her.

A few days ago she'd told him to stay the frell away from her, and he'd tried to do just that; for his own sake as well as hers. But even with Caroline hanging around, doing her damnedest to distract him, it always came back to Aeryn. It always would, and if he didn't already have a plan in mind to breach this impasse between them, he'd have toasted that thought with another bulb of laka.

Aeryn stopped in front of him with her hands on her hips, and he felt the full weight of her glare. "Crichton, what do you want?"

This was his chance, the only opening he'd probably get from her. "Come with me." A question, a plea.

She blinked, seemed to consider the request. "Why?"

"'Cause I'm asking you to."

Aeryn always kept him waiting; bit on her lower lip to fill the silence. "Where--"

"Can you just, come with me without asking questions?" The words lodged in his throat but he pushed them through. "Trust me."

"Alright then, let's go."

*

Four years, where the only familiar comfort he'd had was his hand on his joystick or on his cock, and he'd almost forgotten what it was like to grip something that wasn't methodically alien and strangely shaped. John ran his fingers along the steering wheel, expertly switched gears and accelerated. Not as fast as his ship, but a powerful engine and a beautiful girl by his side balanced it all out.

Aeryn ignored him for the first half-hour and watched the scenery pass by. He hummed along to whatever came on the radio, although he'd never heard most of what was played.

When she finally spoke it nearly scared the crap out of him.

"Tell me now where we're going," she demanded, staring at him.

"Jesus," he muttered. He spared a quick glance to Aeryn and back to the road. "Nowhere in particular."

She dismissed his vague answer with a shrug. "Hm. Do the others know that we're gone?"

"Livvy does. My dad probably, but he won't say anything."

"How long is it for this time, John? How long before you revert back to acting like a drannit bent on punishing me?"

She knew his game, just chose not to defend herself against his barbs and maneuvers.

The answer felt like payback and the word took shape in his mouth, but he stifled the urge. "Aeryn... baby, I'm trying here. I brought you on this field trip because I wanted to be with you."

And what he didn't say -- I love you; I can't be with you, Earth will ask too many questions; Scorpius will know; damn it you lied to me; I need time but I also need you -- stayed with him for the rest of the night.

*

Aeryn's hand was on his ass, and it was the best thing that'd happened to him all day.

They'd both started out sitting side-by-side on the trunk of the car. His destination to nowhere had ended them parked on a ridge overlooking hundreds of houses below. Electricity twinkled in the dark and stars lit up the sky. At times John was a hopeless romantic, but he was not going to explain to her the vagaries of make-out locations.

He'd expected a comment about the blanket he'd taken from the backseat, but she'd just quirked her mouth and occupied the space he'd patted beside him on the trunk. She hadn't objected when he'd wrapped the blanket around them and snuggled closer.

He'd smiled, much like he was doing now, right up until she curled her tongue around his and pulled him further between her thighs.

John kissed her back, met her aggression with his own as he dug his fingers into her hips, and inhaled the scent of the earth and leather and arousal between them. She cupped him in his jeans, quick strokes of her thumb that made him grind and moan against her. He retaliated by sliding his hands under her vest and shirt, slowly caressed her nipples until she bumped his hip with her knee in frustration.

"Stop teasing." A fierce whisper in his ear, then warm breath and soft lips on his neck and back to his mouth.

He chuckled, but resumed the slow torture. He cupped her breasts, tested their heaviness in his palms. Flicked his thumbs back and forth across her nipples, matched the rhythm of his hips sliding against hers. Aeryn growled 'more' into his mouth, and he worked on instinct and a full memory of what she liked. She sucked his tongue, squeezed his ass, and groaned in his mouth; and he wished to god he'd been inside her when she came.

"Frell." He said it for the both of them, and kissed her slow and deep this time. It wasn't how he'd pictured spending time with her on Earth; burning clothes like teenagers, but he'd take it. No laka this time, just Aeryn.

*

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