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sg1 poke

This one's for kaz, because I promised

Passing the time and trying not to think too much--which of course leads to thinking too much. Having major crash ups with daughter number one who just doesn't have the same mind set as I do about the value of learning things--Science Fair blues. I have to accept that her learning problems make school really an emotional minefield. It is not that she doesn't like to learn, it is that the environment of middle school pressure and structure are not for her. We can't get her out of public school but I have to learn to let her dad lead her gently to knowledge where I want to use the brute force method. Unit/Midterm tests next week have all of us on edge. Patience--my albatross.

So, I promised Kaz her TalynJohn/MoyaJohn fic. Here, I'll try the first snippet.

A & B--Though Our Time Slips Away

The sky was black and clouds blew across the horizon obscuring the first stars of the evening. He sat on a bench in what he would euphemistically call a park although the trees didn't have names and the ground wasn't covered with anything approaching grass. He couldn't even feed the pigeons. He sighed and brushed his hand through his hair. That buzzing sensation continued, making his ears ring and his forehead wrinkle in consernation. He shook his head in annoyance.

"They just won't let up, will they?" he mussed as he looked up to the alien sky. Ancients, wormholes, Aeryn, dren…it was all the same and he, he was stuck on another planet--his island of misfit toys. He idly wondered who the broken jack-in-the-box was and where was Rudolf when he needed him. And the call continued.

Absent-mindedly brushing his hand against his ear one more time, John pressed his comm, calling rather loudly, "D, Man, I need a drink, where are you?" LoMo, what a silly name for a planet. His life was a mess.

John sat at a table that was made for a much smaller being, balancing precariously on the also too-low stool composed of some sort of black shiny substance that caused his leather seat to slide back and forth with his every movement. The blue-green, thick jellinous concoction in front of him had a kick like a mule, but it wasn't enough to drown out the incessant calling. He bent down and sucked on the two straws.

D'Argo glanced over at his friend and bent almost in half to suck on his drink. He grunted in annoyance that the contents didn't even begin to blunt his mood of grimness. John annoyed him no end with his constant sighs and groans. Jool annoyed him with her whining and now drunken demands for his attention. Dren, his life was a mess. He needed a distraction. He didn't need to be reminded of his losses…Chiana plays with every male in the room draping her sensuous form around their shoulders and accepting drinks and favors that should be his alone.

He took another gulp of the blue-green concoction and shook his tenkas is disgust. He turned his head and threw a bruising look at John where he sat squirming on that stupid stool and caught his eyes blinking back at him. Frell, that man had pain deep inside those blue orbs. D'Argo looked away and his attention was caught by three feathered beauties standing seductively at their table. Poking John in the ribs, he smiled at the girls. John blearily grinned in turn, privately rejoicing in the distraction.

Oh this was just short of the story of his life--waking up in that frelling Macy's window--a Christmas present for aliens. And fishnets! Where the frell were his pants anyway? What was he thinking? Feather hair, fuzzy fingers, itchy fingers and what had he to show for his wild night? No money, no pants, and God, fishnets. John had jumped off of the window sill after his initial shock and backed away from the view of the crowd that had gathered to gawk at the saps who got rolled. He grabbed his pants and after shrugging them and his shirt on, nudged D'Argo with his now booted foot, blowing another feather out of his mouth. He felt like shit. How stupid could they get. Never trust a blue and purple feathered chick, that was going to be his motto for the future. He heard the groan of his friend down to his toes, the rumble joining that non-stop buzzing call he was trying valiantly to ignore.

"D'Argo, man, we are righteously frelled. How stupid could we get?"

D'Argo rolled over from his position lying on his stomach with his tenkas thrown over his aching head. He blinked at John, asking gruffly, "Do you have any idea how idiotic you look in green, Crichton? Those fishnets are definitely NOT you." He pushed himself up on his knees, and rubbing his fists into his eyes, he said, "Let's find the girls and see if they have enough credits and wits for first meal. I need a drink."

John used the edge of that frelling window to pull himself up to his feet when he staggered. A bright white light surrounded him in a startled paralysis. "John!" D'Argo yelled as he reached for his absent weapon. His hands struck a fierce electrical field when he sought to strike through the white brightness. He sucked at his knuckles as he gazed at his friend who now stood ramrod straight, his neck corded with tension, eyes closed in his slightly raised head. There was nothing he could do. John finds the most amazing dren, he thought in despair. Lost on LoMo.

John felt the thoughts of his twin even as he stared in disbelief at the visage of "Jack" as he stood with his palm raised. "What the Frell!" both Johns said in unison. "Get out of my head!" they cried as Jack proceeded to grill them as to why someone was fooling with wormholes. TalynJohn could not turn his head to acknowledge the completely identical shout of frustration of his twin where he stood caught in the same mind field as himself. MoyaJohn spoke first, totally bemused by the images projected by the Ancient of the creepy wrinkled filthy alien shown flying Farscape I, "I have no idea what that guy is doing in my module, but he had better not leave any presents in there."

TalynJohn hummed in agreement that he hadn't a clue what was going on. Jack held both twins captive as he contemplated the situation. He suddenly pushed MoyaJohn who collapsed at D'Argo's feet as the brilliant light faded. D'Argo reached down and quietly stroked his unconcious friend's shoulder, whispering, "Oh my friend, what have you gotten yourself into now?" He tugged at the dead weight, straightening John's limbs into a more comfortable position and then stepped back and crossed his arms on his chest. Leaning against the wall of the small room with the huge picture window, he settled in to wait.


Yippie!You started it!
This is a little different than what you described to me the other day, but I like it. I'll be on MSN today if you want to talk about this again.

One little thing...there were only two feathered chicks. *g*