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sg1 poke

And the drabbling continues

I am so excited about how content-filled cathy1967's web site is becoming. All that luscious fan fiction in many genres just waiting to be read. All those great collages of pictures and great buttons. It's been fun helping out with ideas.

Well, here's my next edition of my Merging Johns fan fic your your reading pleasure.

Though Our Time Slips Away, Chapter 2

John rolled over on his stomach and shook his head to clear it of the alcohol, alien footprints, twinned voices and other mind-altering content he felt swimming inside. He looked sideways at his Luxan friend where the large man leaned against the wall.

"How long?"

"How long, what, Crichton? How long is your life going to be frelled up by alien visitations or how long were you sleeping, or both of the above?"

"Just, how long?" John replied, peeved by the total situation as well as D'Argo's astuteness.

"Half an arn, give or take."

"Oh, man, my head feels like it is the size of a soccer ball and just as bouncy."

"John, what just happened?"

"Oh, little of this…Ancient visitations and stereo voices…a little of that," John said darkly, but then continued on a more serious note, "D, I was standing here trying to not upchuck my stomach on to your pretty clothing when the next thing I knew I was standing on Talyn locked in some sort of light ray with Ancient Jack and my twin staring me in the face. Jack wanted to know something about somebody fooling with Farscape I and wormholes and I saw the ugliest alien, even uglier than Rygel, flying my module. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here." John leaned against the wall next to his friend and lowered his head into his hands. "Man, I wish god-like aliens would stop screwing with my head."

D'Argo reached down and picked a blue feather off of John's shoulder and then lay his hand there in quiet support. "What do you think this means?"

"Hell if I know, D," John whispered, "I think my clone is in deep dren with the Ancients and that I got rejected one more time…lucky me."

D'Argo blew air through his beard and squeezed John's shoulder. "Well, there's nothing we can do, is there? We don't know where Talyn is, exactly, nor what Jack really wanted."

"That's where you're wrong. I think this has to do with Furlow. Who else knows about wormholes and has the technology and know-how to build a copy of my module. My twin doesn't have the module, I do, so he hasn't been joy riding in it. And, we know that I've not been flying through wormholes cause I'm in this fun house. Has to be Furlow on Dam Ba-Da. Has to be. That was one mean, wicked looking alien I saw in my module doing loop-de-loos in that wormhole. If Furlow has built a replica of my module and is playing wormhole jockey with those blue meanies, then I need to know about it. And, if the Ancients are involved, there is trouble coming. I can feel it in my bones. We have to get to Dam-Ba-Da. Wonder if Pilot has any records of where it is in relation to wherever here is."

"John, I've got your back on this, but first, we have a small problem. Pilot won't let us back on Moya for another eight days. And, the girls haven't shown up. There's trouble right here and I have a feeling that little fekkik alien with the funny voice is involved. We need to find her and our stolen money as well as Chiana and Jool. Leave Dam-Ba-Da and that mechanic alone. Let Talyn and Crais handle it. It is not your job to save the universe."

"Yeah, I guess you have a point there, but I can't shake the feeling that we haven't seen the end of this thing. Right, then let's boogie on down to the beach and locate that weird chick (at least I think she's one) and get our money and a remedy for my hang-over. How 'come Luxans don't get hang overs anyway?"

John leaned heavily on Pilot's console, one hand grasping a drink and the other placed on his face with his thumb rubbing his lips. "So, that is why I need you to let us back on Moya, Pilot. This is much more urgent than whether D'Argo and I are gonna kill each other or whether Chiana is gonna swallow fire or Jool is gonna pass out from too much blood rushing to her head when doing back flips for bar tips. We're good here, Pilot. Chiana and Jool are safe and I'm playing nice with the Luxan. Please, find out where Dam-Ba-Da is located. We need to get there. I think Aeryn is in trouble."

"Commander, it is not that I don't believe your story, but it is difficult to believe that any alien could have contacted you through space and brought your mind on to Talyn. In addition, we have not heard from Talyn in monens and there does not seem to be any Scarren activity broadcasted to back up your story about Charrids (as those aliens you describe are called) or wormholes. In addition, your behavior on LoMo was childish and I cannot forgive the fact that you and D'Argo got yourselves involved with drug dealers and almost got your friends killed. In addition, we cannot have Moya's and my peace continuously distracted by your wormhole travel requirements. No, we will not look up where Dam-Ba-Da is and no, you will not be granted asylum on Moya for another eight days. I will transport you and D'Argo to the next planet over from LoMo. It is is a quiet, agricultural commune of religious people who have taken vows of silence. I have contacted them and they take on postulants for limited stays. Jool, Chiana, and I will return to pick you up in seven days."