FSL Exchange Fic for: nymeria_55
Title: untitled
Rating: PG
Written For: nymeria_55
Written by: marieelise0928
Notes: Story in response to Nymeria’s Request #3: John and Jack Crichton - a new look into the father/son relationship, a moment in their past
John was enjoying a quiet evening at home after another long day at IASA headquarters working on the forthcoming Farscape One mission. The hours were brutal, the politics involved were soul-crushing, and just the thought of all the work that still needed to be done in the coming months gave him heart palpitations, so it was nice for once to just be able to kick back with a beer in hand, and watch some preseason basketball. Mindless, easy, relaxing…
Until the phone rang. With some reluctance, he picked up the cordless from the table by the sofa, and hit the talk button. “Yep?” He answered, his customary greeting.
“Hey John… It’s me, Liv.” Came the voice over the line.
Well, Olivia. Not so bad then.
“I’m calling to see what your plans are for Christmas Eve? You’re gonna come to dinner at dad’s right?”
A conversation nose-dive. They had this talk every year. Well - every year since their mother had passed, anyhow. She’d been the one to gather them all from hither and yon and get them around a table to joke around and tell stories and remember what they had in each other as a family. Now that she was gone, it was harder for John to find the gratitude for what he had and easier to dredge up resentments that should have been long buried, and pick away at scabs on injuries that should have been long healed. Which was to say that at just about every family gathering he’d attended since his mom had passed, the shit had hit the fan with his dad.
“I dunno, Liv. Things are really busy for me right now and -“
“That’s BS and you know it. The stars have been up there forever Johnny, they aren’t going to fade away ‘cause you take a night off to spend some time with your family. It’s Christmas for God’s sake! Space will still be waiting on December 26, but we’ll all being our separate ways again. It’s not easy to get everyone together you know..”
Ah, the guilt trip. Game, set, and match to Olivia. He resigned himself. “Fine. I’ll be there. What time?”
“Fiveish? Bring beer would you? You and dad are the only ones who drink it, I never know what to get.”
“Yeah, no problem…”
They said quick goodbyes, and John ended the call and tossed the phone on the couch. Merry effing Christmas.
The dinner actually went surprisingly well. His sisters were great cooks so the food alone was worth it, and his nephew Bobby could talk enough for all of them. Bobby was going through a space phase, and wouldn’t stop peppering John and Jack with questions. It was a nice change of pace.
“So what do you think you’re going to do up there, Uncle John??” Bobby asked with eager enthusiasm. “How long will you be gone??”
John grinned. “Hopefully not too long, or something’s gone wrong.” He answered, taking a swallow of beer before he continued. “The idea is to shoot up there, run the experiment, and then head on back down here to Earth. I’m just testing a theory… See, Earth’s got a gravitational field, and mostly it holds us down. But what I think, and what I’m going to test out in a few months, is that it might also be a way to propel ships faster than they can go on their own…”
Bobby seemed to find this slightly disappointing. “So… You’re not really going far into space?”
John leaned back, still smiling. “Nah. Your granddad was the astronaut. Maybe, if my experiment works, you can be one too, and go even further than him. Me… I’m just a scientist.”
End of the night, and John and Jack where were the men in his family always seemed to end up - in the kitchen, washing the dishes. The silence wasn’t exactly easy between them, it never was, but at least it was familiar. And it was better than fighting. So naturally his dad had to end it.
“I’ve been hearing good things from the guys at IASA. Sounds like your mission’s running ahead of schedule…” Jack spoke, trying for innocuous.
“It’s not a mission, dad. It’s just an experiment…” John responded as he passed Jack another plate to dry.
“Yeah, well, it’s a hell of a thing. I could sure have never figured something like that out. Hell, I look at it and I still don’t really understand. I’m proud of you, son. Your mom would have been proud of you too.”
And there it was, the tipping point. John tried to ignore it, knew he should ignore it. But he just never could. He set the plate he was rinsing back in the sink and looked at his father. “You think so? Cause she always seemed to hate it when you’d go up in space. She’d lit in bed, worrying. She’d read those damned tarot cards for a sign from space that you were going to be okay. All she really did while you were gone was wait for you to come back, and yet you just kept going. You really think she’d be so pleased to see me following in your footsteps?”
Jack looked at John straight on during his tense little tirade. Say what you would about Jack Crichton, the man never looked away first, and his stare could pierce right through you. John looked back at his dad, now a little abashed to be have dredged up all these things from 15 years ago yet again. There was just something about the holidays, about how they all went on about the importance of family, that always called to mind every single time that Jack Crichton had undervalued the very thing they all claimed to hold so dear.
Finally, Jack spoke. “I loved your mother, John. And I loved all of you guys. But I had to go. I know you couldn’t understand it when you were 16, and I guess you still don’t really have a way to understand it now. But I think you will one day. Maybe after this mission - experiment - you’ll start to see… One day you’ll look at someone you love and say ‘I’m sorry… But I have to go.’ And that person, if they love you, and trust you, and if they know who you are… They’ll understand. Your mother understood. I think that’s what you never realized John. Your mother loved me, and she understood. And I - I had to go.”
John quietly picked up the plate he’d been washing and resumed his duties. He didn’t want Olivia and Susan to know that he’d stepped out of line, so he decided to just drop it. Jack sighed, and returned to drying the dishes and putting them back in their various places. They finished the task in that same prickly silence that they could never seem to find their way safely out of.
John didn’t understand, not then. But he would. He would understand years later when he stood up on the moon by the flag his father had planted, with his family’s photo clipped to it, and while looking down at that beautiful planet he’d grown up on, said “I’m sorry… But I have to go.”
Title: untitled
Rating: PG
Writte For: nymeria_55
Written by: (will be revealed Jan 1)
Notes: tory in response to Nymeria’s Request #2: Rygel/Zhaan - a moment of introspection and bonding, any time in the story-arc is ok
“Hello, Dominar”
Rygel looked up from the pile of food cubes he was furtively eating in the common area. His feathery eyebrows drooped slightly at the sight before him. “Zhaan.” He acknowledged brusquely, after a moment’s hesitation. The Delvian stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame as if for support, a scarf wrapped around her ravaged scalp.
“You’re up late. Shouldn’t you be… resting?” He asked as he chewed.
Zhaan smiled slowly, and a little sadly.
“I find that with so few moments left to me, I am reluctant to spend them sleeping… I prefer to spend what time I have left cherishing this ship, and her crew. May I join you, Rygel?”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She moved from the doorway towards an empty seat at the Hynerian’s table. She couldn’t help but smile at the way his feet just barely reached to the end of the chair.
Rygel looked up at her. “Crichton and the others wouldn’t be pleased to hear you speaking about how short your time is, you know. It’ll upset them all. Frell. Crichton will probably come up with some fahrbot plan, and Stark will start with his lunatic ravings. Aeryn will brood and feel guilty. Chiana and the Luxans will all frell each other.. And Moya will panic and starburst us straight into a moon or a blackhole or some other frelling disaster…” Rygel shook his head and with stubby fingers reached for another food cube, which he wedged into his mouth.
Zhaan leaned an elbow on the table and laughed slightly. It was quiet, but it was a beautiful sound. “Ah, but not you, eh Rygel? You’ll not mind at all, I suppose…”
He stared at the food piled in front of him, and again his eyebrows drooped. It was a telltale sign. “Me? Yotz no, why should I care? One less pain in my eema, that’s all…”
Zhaan’s lips quirked slightly. She placed a hand lightly on the funny little creatures head. With that small gesture, he became entirely crestfallen, his body language now altogether matching the slant of his brows. He sighed slightly, and then looked up at her, a rare sincerity shining in his eyes.
“I… shall miss you entirely, Zhaan. You have been a good counselor, and a dear friend. I will… feel your loss, deeply. I believe we all will.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, Rygel leaning his small head into Zhaan’s hand, carving out a moment in time to simply appreciate one another. Finally Zhaan stood. “I think I shall go rest now, as my trusted Dominar has advised. Goddess keep you, Rygel…”
He nodded. “Yes, well. Goodbye.”He mumbled, returning his concentration to the food cubes in front of him… But as she disappeared out the door, and down the hall, he paused, and spoke in a whisper… “May your Goddess guide you home.”
Rating: PG
Written For: nymeria_55
Written by: marieelise0928
Notes: Story in response to Nymeria’s Request #3: John and Jack Crichton - a new look into the father/son relationship, a moment in their past
John was enjoying a quiet evening at home after another long day at IASA headquarters working on the forthcoming Farscape One mission. The hours were brutal, the politics involved were soul-crushing, and just the thought of all the work that still needed to be done in the coming months gave him heart palpitations, so it was nice for once to just be able to kick back with a beer in hand, and watch some preseason basketball. Mindless, easy, relaxing…
Until the phone rang. With some reluctance, he picked up the cordless from the table by the sofa, and hit the talk button. “Yep?” He answered, his customary greeting.
“Hey John… It’s me, Liv.” Came the voice over the line.
Well, Olivia. Not so bad then.
“I’m calling to see what your plans are for Christmas Eve? You’re gonna come to dinner at dad’s right?”
A conversation nose-dive. They had this talk every year. Well - every year since their mother had passed, anyhow. She’d been the one to gather them all from hither and yon and get them around a table to joke around and tell stories and remember what they had in each other as a family. Now that she was gone, it was harder for John to find the gratitude for what he had and easier to dredge up resentments that should have been long buried, and pick away at scabs on injuries that should have been long healed. Which was to say that at just about every family gathering he’d attended since his mom had passed, the shit had hit the fan with his dad.
“I dunno, Liv. Things are really busy for me right now and -“
“That’s BS and you know it. The stars have been up there forever Johnny, they aren’t going to fade away ‘cause you take a night off to spend some time with your family. It’s Christmas for God’s sake! Space will still be waiting on December 26, but we’ll all being our separate ways again. It’s not easy to get everyone together you know..”
Ah, the guilt trip. Game, set, and match to Olivia. He resigned himself. “Fine. I’ll be there. What time?”
“Fiveish? Bring beer would you? You and dad are the only ones who drink it, I never know what to get.”
“Yeah, no problem…”
They said quick goodbyes, and John ended the call and tossed the phone on the couch. Merry effing Christmas.
The dinner actually went surprisingly well. His sisters were great cooks so the food alone was worth it, and his nephew Bobby could talk enough for all of them. Bobby was going through a space phase, and wouldn’t stop peppering John and Jack with questions. It was a nice change of pace.
“So what do you think you’re going to do up there, Uncle John??” Bobby asked with eager enthusiasm. “How long will you be gone??”
John grinned. “Hopefully not too long, or something’s gone wrong.” He answered, taking a swallow of beer before he continued. “The idea is to shoot up there, run the experiment, and then head on back down here to Earth. I’m just testing a theory… See, Earth’s got a gravitational field, and mostly it holds us down. But what I think, and what I’m going to test out in a few months, is that it might also be a way to propel ships faster than they can go on their own…”
Bobby seemed to find this slightly disappointing. “So… You’re not really going far into space?”
John leaned back, still smiling. “Nah. Your granddad was the astronaut. Maybe, if my experiment works, you can be one too, and go even further than him. Me… I’m just a scientist.”
End of the night, and John and Jack where were the men in his family always seemed to end up - in the kitchen, washing the dishes. The silence wasn’t exactly easy between them, it never was, but at least it was familiar. And it was better than fighting. So naturally his dad had to end it.
“I’ve been hearing good things from the guys at IASA. Sounds like your mission’s running ahead of schedule…” Jack spoke, trying for innocuous.
“It’s not a mission, dad. It’s just an experiment…” John responded as he passed Jack another plate to dry.
“Yeah, well, it’s a hell of a thing. I could sure have never figured something like that out. Hell, I look at it and I still don’t really understand. I’m proud of you, son. Your mom would have been proud of you too.”
And there it was, the tipping point. John tried to ignore it, knew he should ignore it. But he just never could. He set the plate he was rinsing back in the sink and looked at his father. “You think so? Cause she always seemed to hate it when you’d go up in space. She’d lit in bed, worrying. She’d read those damned tarot cards for a sign from space that you were going to be okay. All she really did while you were gone was wait for you to come back, and yet you just kept going. You really think she’d be so pleased to see me following in your footsteps?”
Jack looked at John straight on during his tense little tirade. Say what you would about Jack Crichton, the man never looked away first, and his stare could pierce right through you. John looked back at his dad, now a little abashed to be have dredged up all these things from 15 years ago yet again. There was just something about the holidays, about how they all went on about the importance of family, that always called to mind every single time that Jack Crichton had undervalued the very thing they all claimed to hold so dear.
Finally, Jack spoke. “I loved your mother, John. And I loved all of you guys. But I had to go. I know you couldn’t understand it when you were 16, and I guess you still don’t really have a way to understand it now. But I think you will one day. Maybe after this mission - experiment - you’ll start to see… One day you’ll look at someone you love and say ‘I’m sorry… But I have to go.’ And that person, if they love you, and trust you, and if they know who you are… They’ll understand. Your mother understood. I think that’s what you never realized John. Your mother loved me, and she understood. And I - I had to go.”
John quietly picked up the plate he’d been washing and resumed his duties. He didn’t want Olivia and Susan to know that he’d stepped out of line, so he decided to just drop it. Jack sighed, and returned to drying the dishes and putting them back in their various places. They finished the task in that same prickly silence that they could never seem to find their way safely out of.
John didn’t understand, not then. But he would. He would understand years later when he stood up on the moon by the flag his father had planted, with his family’s photo clipped to it, and while looking down at that beautiful planet he’d grown up on, said “I’m sorry… But I have to go.”
Title: untitled
Rating: PG
Writte For: nymeria_55
Written by: (will be revealed Jan 1)
Notes: tory in response to Nymeria’s Request #2: Rygel/Zhaan - a moment of introspection and bonding, any time in the story-arc is ok
“Hello, Dominar”
Rygel looked up from the pile of food cubes he was furtively eating in the common area. His feathery eyebrows drooped slightly at the sight before him. “Zhaan.” He acknowledged brusquely, after a moment’s hesitation. The Delvian stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame as if for support, a scarf wrapped around her ravaged scalp.
“You’re up late. Shouldn’t you be… resting?” He asked as he chewed.
Zhaan smiled slowly, and a little sadly.
“I find that with so few moments left to me, I am reluctant to spend them sleeping… I prefer to spend what time I have left cherishing this ship, and her crew. May I join you, Rygel?”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She moved from the doorway towards an empty seat at the Hynerian’s table. She couldn’t help but smile at the way his feet just barely reached to the end of the chair.
Rygel looked up at her. “Crichton and the others wouldn’t be pleased to hear you speaking about how short your time is, you know. It’ll upset them all. Frell. Crichton will probably come up with some fahrbot plan, and Stark will start with his lunatic ravings. Aeryn will brood and feel guilty. Chiana and the Luxans will all frell each other.. And Moya will panic and starburst us straight into a moon or a blackhole or some other frelling disaster…” Rygel shook his head and with stubby fingers reached for another food cube, which he wedged into his mouth.
Zhaan leaned an elbow on the table and laughed slightly. It was quiet, but it was a beautiful sound. “Ah, but not you, eh Rygel? You’ll not mind at all, I suppose…”
He stared at the food piled in front of him, and again his eyebrows drooped. It was a telltale sign. “Me? Yotz no, why should I care? One less pain in my eema, that’s all…”
Zhaan’s lips quirked slightly. She placed a hand lightly on the funny little creatures head. With that small gesture, he became entirely crestfallen, his body language now altogether matching the slant of his brows. He sighed slightly, and then looked up at her, a rare sincerity shining in his eyes.
“I… shall miss you entirely, Zhaan. You have been a good counselor, and a dear friend. I will… feel your loss, deeply. I believe we all will.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, Rygel leaning his small head into Zhaan’s hand, carving out a moment in time to simply appreciate one another. Finally Zhaan stood. “I think I shall go rest now, as my trusted Dominar has advised. Goddess keep you, Rygel…”
He nodded. “Yes, well. Goodbye.”He mumbled, returning his concentration to the food cubes in front of him… But as she disappeared out the door, and down the hall, he paused, and spoke in a whisper… “May your Goddess guide you home.”