If Harvey was the type to do jigs, his would be up. While he didn't notice the look that passed between Daniel and Cayce, he felt a slight shift in the group's dynamic and reacted accordingly. "Hurry back, Cayce," he said as she started out toward the shops. "Don't make us come and rescue you now." If Harvey had been the type to pray, he might have prayed for Cayce to mysteriously trip over something so that he and Daniel could save her, shifting all the attention away from him. But he didn't pray, and so he turned back to Daniel. "Yes, they have no bananas. Some fruit cart."
"Under the magnifying glass, my dear boy? Inconceivable. I'm harmless to them. My only task here has been to observe and theorize about your interesting companions." Gone was the frilly dress. In its place was a brown cape and a deerskin cap. Harvey pulled a pipe from seemingly nowhere and began to pace. The pacing might have looked suitably Holmesian, but John might have detected (were he as good as Sherlock himself) an air of nervousness about Harvey.
Alone in the shop, Cayce took a moment to stop and think. If Daniel were to follow, she might be able to get a hurried conference in with him before they had to rejoin Harvey-John.
Maybe he's just curious. Maybe he -- oh, yeah, there's the whole blatantly-pretending-to-be-John thing. Damn.
She dawdled a bit, pretending to look for something a little more sturdy than the plastic merchandise bags.
With Cayce gone, Daniel was left alone with John. Unsure what exactly was wrong except that it had something to do with Harvey, he didn't really know what to do.
He plucked an apple from the cart.
"So I haven't talked to you in a couple days," he said, taking a bite. "What have you been up to lately? Anything interesting?"
((Sooooooooo ... about this thing ... Yeah. I fail. Sorry, all!))
Yes, what had Harvey been up to? "Oh, the same thing I do every night, Pinky. Trying to take over the world." Which was true, in its way. Harvey picked up an apple and tossed it to Daniel. "This look ripe to you?"
Daniel caught the apple, a frown appearing on his face as he looked down at it.
"Yeah," he said slowly. "It's fine. I, um, I dunno if you've noticed but all the food here's perfect, just like the flowers and everything else." He tossed it back, hesitated, then added; "John, are you okay? You know you can talk to me if you need to, right?"
He knew John, and although he didn't know what was wrong exactly, he knew how John would act if the situations were reversed. John was a firm believer in talking about your problems, and it seemed like he was always there as a friendly ear. Daniel respected him greatly for that, and he hoped that John could feel that he could talk to Daniel too.
Harvey grabbed a few more apples. There was a Garden of Eden joke to be made here somewhere, but Harvey had never been much for religious analogies. Instead, he tried to school John's features into something looking vaguely concerned. His control of John's body was loosening -- it was harder than he'd anticipated to keep John in check.
Right. Serious, manly-concern face on. "Thanks, man," said Harvey somewhat hesitantly. "It's just ... I dunno. This whole thing, being stuck here, I just really worry aboubt -- about Aeryn. She can take care of herself, but ..." Harvey trailed off in a way that he hoped sounded forlorn and miserable. Really, he didn't have anything else to say. He didn't understand Aeryn, or why John cared about her so much. Which was why it was always amusing when John got so angry when he brought her up.
Harvey just hoped John wouldn't take this opportunity to kick his ass. He wasn't sure that was a fight he could win at this point.
Right about then, Cayce made her way back from the shop with a couple of canvas tote bags over her arm, listening to what Harvey-John was saying, but not butting in. Yet.
Aeryn. Oh, hell no he didn't. Coming up behind Harvey as he tried his convincing dance with Daniel, John got the leather-clad one in a headlock and squeezed. "We've talked about this," he ground out, trying to ignore the Holmesian garb as it just made things weirder. "You do not get to talk about Aeryn. At all."
Two years since that first time and it was fresh enough in his mind. Stolen ships and frozen lakes and a kiss before smashing someone's skull against plating. Knocking her out cold and talking to her with a voice that wasn't his. Harvey should have known much better.
Well, it was certainly harder to annoy John when you couldn't breathe. "Come now," Harvey choked out, "didn't your therapist tell you that avoiding issues isn't healthy?" His attractive hat was now on the ground, but Harvey was more interested in prying John's arm away from his neck. Stomping repeatedly on John's foot might do the trick ...
"Everything okay here?" Cayce asked, a note of concern in her voice. "Wasn't interrupting anything important, was I?" She shot a questioning look at Daniel. Anything doing?
Stomping wouldn't do the trick. Not this time. "The only therapist I ever had was you, and you did crappy job," John informed him ferociously. Where was that damn dumpster?
There it was. Right over there in the corner. And it only appeared when he was on the verge of winning.
It was hard playing the part of the thug, but if that's how Harvey wanted to play it- "Tell Cayce the truth now, Harv. Right now. And then you go away, and I don't want to see your horror movie face in public again, you got it?"
Daniel was feeling more and more suspicious the more John talked. The Aeryn thing almost had him putting a comforting hand on the other man's arm, but then he remembered what Cayce had said about Harvey and stopped. Something wasn't adding up right.
He gave Cayce a tiny, sharp shake of the head, and couldn't really keep the worried look from his face.
This was not Harvey's best day ever. Trying to get beyond your programming did that to you, he supposed, as he tried to wriggle out of Crichton's grasp. Hadn't there been a Tim Burton movie about that? Or two, or three, or seven? "I did the best I could --you were an uncooperative client," Harvey managed, gasping. If he'd been at his fighting weight, he'd probably have put them in an analyst's office, with John lying prone on the couch. Prone was good. As it was, he tried to gain his footing as he and John neared the dumpster.
Tell Cayce? Oh, no. Talk about going against your programming. The mantra was simple: keep Crichton alive. Telling one of his friends that he was being possessed by a clone? Probably not the best way to do that. But there were compromises to be made. Harvey quit struggling for a moment. If John wanted, he could take control again. Of course, he'd also give Harvey a chance to regroup ...
John was pretty damned accustomed to being caught and tossed around (in equal measure) by women, so having Cayce right there did a lot to soothe his nerves. "We had a sword fight, and..."
Apparently his brain hadn't caught up yet, though, so everything was coming out in that smushy, would-be hungover way. "My head is like an artistic expression of a disco club right now."
If Harvey was the type to do jigs, his would be up. While he didn't notice the look that passed between Daniel and Cayce, he felt a slight shift in the group's dynamic and reacted accordingly. "Hurry back, Cayce," he said as she started out toward the shops. "Don't make us come and rescue you now." If Harvey had been the type to pray, he might have prayed for Cayce to mysteriously trip over something so that he and Daniel could save her, shifting all the attention away from him. But he didn't pray, and so he turned back to Daniel. "Yes, they have no bananas. Some fruit cart."
"Under the magnifying glass, my dear boy? Inconceivable. I'm harmless to them. My only task here has been to observe and theorize about your interesting companions." Gone was the frilly dress. In its place was a brown cape and a deerskin cap. Harvey pulled a pipe from seemingly nowhere and began to pace. The pacing might have looked suitably Holmesian, but John might have detected (were he as good as Sherlock himself) an air of nervousness about Harvey.
Reply
Maybe he's just curious. Maybe he -- oh, yeah, there's the whole blatantly-pretending-to-be-John thing. Damn.
She dawdled a bit, pretending to look for something a little more sturdy than the plastic merchandise bags.
Reply
He plucked an apple from the cart.
"So I haven't talked to you in a couple days," he said, taking a bite. "What have you been up to lately? Anything interesting?"
Reply
Yes, what had Harvey been up to? "Oh, the same thing I do every night, Pinky. Trying to take over the world." Which was true, in its way. Harvey picked up an apple and tossed it to Daniel. "This look ripe to you?"
Reply
"Yeah," he said slowly. "It's fine. I, um, I dunno if you've noticed but all the food here's perfect, just like the flowers and everything else." He tossed it back, hesitated, then added; "John, are you okay? You know you can talk to me if you need to, right?"
He knew John, and although he didn't know what was wrong exactly, he knew how John would act if the situations were reversed. John was a firm believer in talking about your problems, and it seemed like he was always there as a friendly ear. Daniel respected him greatly for that, and he hoped that John could feel that he could talk to Daniel too.
Reply
Right. Serious, manly-concern face on. "Thanks, man," said Harvey somewhat hesitantly. "It's just ... I dunno. This whole thing, being stuck here, I just really worry aboubt -- about Aeryn. She can take care of herself, but ..." Harvey trailed off in a way that he hoped sounded forlorn and miserable. Really, he didn't have anything else to say. He didn't understand Aeryn, or why John cared about her so much. Which was why it was always amusing when John got so angry when he brought her up.
Harvey just hoped John wouldn't take this opportunity to kick his ass. He wasn't sure that was a fight he could win at this point.
Reply
Reply
Two years since that first time and it was fresh enough in his mind. Stolen ships and frozen lakes and a kiss before smashing someone's skull against plating. Knocking her out cold and talking to her with a voice that wasn't his. Harvey should have known much better.
Reply
Reply
Reply
There it was. Right over there in the corner. And it only appeared when he was on the verge of winning.
It was hard playing the part of the thug, but if that's how Harvey wanted to play it- "Tell Cayce the truth now, Harv. Right now. And then you go away, and I don't want to see your horror movie face in public again, you got it?"
Reply
He gave Cayce a tiny, sharp shake of the head, and couldn't really keep the worried look from his face.
"John..." he began, and then stopped.
Reply
Tell Cayce? Oh, no. Talk about going against your programming. The mantra was simple: keep Crichton alive. Telling one of his friends that he was being possessed by a clone? Probably not the best way to do that. But there were compromises to be made. Harvey quit struggling for a moment. If John wanted, he could take control again. Of course, he'd also give Harvey a chance to regroup ...
Reply
The world shimmied back into place like a crappy casino slot machine.
John gasped, his hands reaching out on instinct to grab something, anything real. "Frell me," he groaned.
Reply
Reply
Apparently his brain hadn't caught up yet, though, so everything was coming out in that smushy, would-be hungover way. "My head is like an artistic expression of a disco club right now."
Reply
Leave a comment