albinomilksnake | OPEN RP PART II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

[She's at his chest. Hands sliding up his sleeve, star charts rustling against the fabric of her flightsuit. Cheek to his jaw just barely edging in on the sensation of what it means to feel him-- solid-- beneath her.]

Are you afraid of me?

Maybe a little.

[Its easier to joke than be honest, and she'll feel the muscles in his jaw stretch to smirk without looking at him. He's not particularly afraid of what she could do to him -- not really. Not physically. But he is afraid of getting hurt in other ways.

This Aeryn can't know that. The line of his shoulders relaxes through force of will.]

Good to know you're finally developing common sense.

[The forced smile is enough; Aeryn's no expert when it comes to emotion, she can't tell the difference between his forced efforts and something genuine. Her chin drops, tucks down in the line of his collarbone, fingers going sharp in the fabric of his coat.]

You need to go back to Moya.

Not yet.

[From her position, she can no doubt feel his heart hammering uncontrollably. For him, its been ages since they've been this close to one another.

Now, more than ever, he needs to talk to himself -- and anyone else with proper perspective who would be willing to listen.]

Soon.

[Aeryn ought to fight him on that front. Ought to shove him out at gunpoint and keep him walking till he's far and away from all of this.

She doesn't.

His heart's pounding; she can't tear away from the sound of it. Or from him.] Do it, then. Whatever it is you came here for.

[He lets her stay there for as long as she likes -- at least until he remembers that he has to get her back to Moya sooner rather than later.

He couldn't risk doing the deed in the same room as her. There was no telling what would happen if the events that hadn't happened yet for her were accidentally given to her by his twin.

If she could even see him.]

I'll be at least an arn. Maybe a little more. Will you stay here?

Fine just-- [She doesn't want to. Feels like she shouldn't; like something is off and threatening to drown the both of them.

But she also knows she can't stop him. ] be quick.

[He leans back so she can see him smile.]

Thank you.

[And then he disappears out the door. He isn't quick -- finding a mystic who is willing to try and communicate with his twin is easy, but finding one actually capable of doing so without him giving up any body parts is another thing entirely. Everyone on this end of the planet seems particularly interested in chopping up a Sebacean.

Eventually, he does find what he needs at a decent price, but he comes out of the encounter no more clear than he had been going in. Typically, the mystic had tried to reel him back in with talks of his mother, of D.K. --

When Crichton eventually does make it back to the room, he's pale and sick but upright. He's not even sure how he managed to make it back to the upper levels without passing out, but he's back.]

[She's there waiting still by the time he does. Arns spent at the edge of his bed, doing more deep, careful thinking about the situation than she'd ever wanted to in a hundred lifetimes.

But she's there, and she catches him-- easily-- the moment he stumbles in.] What happened? --What did you do?

[He tries not to put all of his weight on her, even though he's aware that she is perfectly capable of handling it. The help isn't scorned -- he needs it just to get inside.]

Had a talk...or ten. I'll be fine, just--

[He gestures awkwardly toward the bed.]

Little help?

[Aeryn knows already. Knows he's withered and wilted and it doesn't take either a genius or a doctor to figure out that much.

So she does as he asks: wordlessly helps him to the bed, pulls off his thick coat and forces him to lie back so that he can get much needed rest. Doesn't lock the door. Doesn't really know better, given the place and time.]

[Laying down relaxes the dizziness in his head a bit. It doesn't stop the visions of others at the corners of his eyes, but it keeps him from feeling as if he needs to vomit.

John doesn't think to lock the door either -- he can't think much of anything. He's starting to wonder if the mystic had drugged him, if he was calling the Peacekeepers to pick him up.

Subconsciously, he reaches for his leg, checking to make sure he hadn't accidentally left Winona behind. Of course, he hadn't, which leaves him to look up at Aeryn.]

Anyone stop by?

Just you. [It's gentle. Patient. His hair is matted down across the curve of his brow, and Aeryn moves to brush it back away from his sweat-stained skin.]

Who did this?

Good.

[The contact might have been unwelcome earlier, but there is no complaint from John now. He even lets his eyes drift shut.]

I did. Just part of the process. Told you, I'll be fine.

[He doesn't look fine. In fact he looks more the opposite. Aeryn's fingers, though, don't stop skidding soothingly across his scalp.]

Was it worth it?

Hard to say.

[The real answer was no, it wasn't worth it, but telling that to Aeryn wouldn't help either of them. So he's content to let her think he's simply had a setback.]

But I guess I'll find out when we get back to Moya.

[She's quiet after that, lips thinned out without the pull of a frown. Slides her thumb down to brush across the angle of his cheek.]

When you go back to Moya.

[Yeah, he figured she would say that. His head rolls to the side, into her hand whether its ready for it or not. Its almost a sign of defeat. He doesn't hide his lack of surprise well.]

Right. When...I go back to Moya.

[It's sorely needed contact for the both of them, really. Aeryn leans in, burying her face in the underside of his jaw, palm acting as a barrier between his cheek and the pillow he's laid out over.

She should say something. Ought to get the words out while there's time and the city's oddly quiet. Ought to-- and doesn't.

Aeryn Sun was never much good with words over action, anyway.]

[John isn't expecting words and, actually, he isn't expecting action either. What he expects is exactly what he's getting -- contact without commitment.

He wants that commitment, but he's not proud enough to work for it while he's so vulnerable.]

Thanks.

[Its a little hollow.]

For staying, I mean.

[She scoffs out a laugh at that, the line of her mouth pulling sharply against his skin. Not exactly cheerful or charming, but neither of them fits that description right now. ]

Where else would I go?

Dunno. But you seemed pretty determined to try anyway a few arns ago.

[With how weak the process had made him, its all John can do to lift his arm from the side of the bed to brush back the hair off her face, combing it blindly behind her ear as his sense of touch guides him through the curve of her cheekbones since committed to memory.]

A few arns ago I thought I could go somewhere else. [Aeryn tucks her chin, skidding the high point of her cheekbone across his palm and down further into the collar of his jacket. It's not asking for permission or waiting for guidance; she's beyond all that at this point. ]

[He feels it, just as he feels his strained and tired heart start to pound again as she moves -- so much that he has to shift a bit just so his lungs can get air.]

What changed?

[A weighted pause as a reminder sinks into his gut.]

Did you try?

I don't need to try.

[He shifts, she follows; Aeryn uses the way he turns to catch the edge of his mouth with hers, covering it with a kiss that's more hungry than what would be appropriate.

His heartbeat carries. It always does. ]

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