The story is a follow up on “Intermission” which was a follow up on “Searching for Armelia”, one could almost call it “by popular demand”. Enjoy. Warning, this is he NC17-version.

Crais, ten cycles after the Command Carrier. Crais is having a bit of relaxation. Will she, won’t she?

Interlude

By GitonCrais

Aeryn knew something was up, but she wasn’t really sure exactly what.

They were still in orbit around Raghnor. It had been six weekens since Crais’ operation and he was still recuperating.

Talyn was quite happy for the chance to stay and talk to Moya after an absence of ten cycles and he didn’t mind that Crais was taking his time. To be honest, those on board Moya were also happy that they had entered a period of tranquillity and peace. Various trips had been made to the planet for varied purposes. Levarthes had entertained them on a number of occasions and everyone had been merry, including Crais. That was what made Aeryn suspicious.

Something was up.

Ever since the Spring Festival, now two weekens ago, father and daughter had taken a number of trips to the planet, about once every two or three days. Both had come back happy, but secretive. Aeryn was intrigued.

Crais had started his exercises in earnest about three weekens after his operation. He had started off slowly enough, one arn a day. He was using the slow Panthak-regime to build up his strength. The first few days were gruelling for him and he didn’t even appear at evening meals. Armelia had come over to Moya on her own, apologising for Crais’ absence.

Aeryn had gone over to Talyn at the end of the third weeken after Crais’ operation and had watched Crais going through his routines. Talyn hadn’t warned Crais that Aeryn was on board, and had given Aeryn an unobstructed view so that she was able to watch him from the shadows.

Crais had filled out a little since his operation, “put a bit more meat on” as Crichton explained. It enhanced his muscle-tone. He was wearing black tight-fitting trousers, which stretched with his movements. His torso and feet were bare. He had let his wild mane of hair hang loose and Aeryn marvelled at the flow of the raven black locks, which came down to his lower back. If it hadn’t been for Crichton… Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

His movements were slow, graceful, tightening the muscles, releasing them, stretching them. The muscles rippled under his skin. His broad build hid the body of a predatory animal, sheer muscle. He didn’t allow himself much slack as he exercised and hardened the muscles in his chest or his injured leg, even though it must have pained him, judging by the small winces that appeared on his face now and again. He knew that if he went into battle again, the enemy wouldn’t take that into consideration.

Aeryn had missed that, the determination of a soldier to get his body back into shape after an injury. Crais was no stranger to that drive.

Crais slowed down after an arn. He limped over to one of the benches and sat down, picked up a towel and started to wipe the sweat off his face and upper body. He favoured his right leg as he massaged the muscles.

Suddenly he froze. His body tensed and his eyes searched the room. When he recognized Aeryn’s shape in the shadows, he relaxed. He continued to massage his leg, “How long have you been watching me?”

“Not long, maybe a little under an arn.”

“I must be losing it. I had not noticed you standing there.”

She walked over to him and sat in front of him on the floor, taking over the massage of his leg while he sat back, “You weren’t meant to notice me, Crais.”

He smiled at her, “Still, I should have.”

“How are you doing?”

“Getting better, getting stronger.”

She looked up at his face and saw how pale he was, “You better take it easy; you are still not up to full strength. Too much exercise can be just as bad as too little .”

As he stood up, she regretted her words. He looked at her, “I’m fine Aeryn. I need to get back into shape as quickly as possible.” He retrieved his walking stick, drawing a wince from Aeryn. It showed her how much the exercise had taken out of him.

Crais draped the towel around his neck. “I’m going to the galley to get something to drink. Care to join me?”

Aeryn nodded and followed him. The new Crais was a far cry from the Crais she had known for so long. Somehow, it almost frightened her. He could still be grumpy, moody, and silent, and his eyes could still flare up in temper, but there was also a calm about him now. It was a natural calm, not the false calm he had sometimes projected when he was just trying to give them the impression that he was unconcerned. It felt strange.

Crais brought two big glasses of water to the table and sat down. Again she marvelled at his grace. He drank the first half quickly before setting the glass down. He was conscious of her stare, “Is there something wrong, Aeryn?” He drew the towel closer over his chest.

“No, Crais, on the contrary. I’m just happy to see you getting back into shape again. The injuries are not bothering you too much?”

“Sometimes, but it is getting better.”

“Will you be joining us at evening meal?”

“Yes.”

When she returned to Moya, Crichton asked how Crais was doing. She answered him, “Fine.”

That was two weekens ago. Crais looked much fitter now, and Aeryn noticed Crichton regarding him with jealously again. If Crais noticed, he did not let on. In his books, Aeryn was off limits, and he had no interest in her other than as a friend.

“So…” Crichton started after the meal was finished, “What have you been up to, Crais?”

Crais raised an eyebrow, “Crichton?”

“You know, sneaking off to the planet every couple of days.”

“I wasn’t aware I was “sneaking”, Crichton.”

“Then what’s your interest there, and that of Armelia by the way?”

“That’s none of your business, Crichton. I do not ask what you are doing on the planet.”

“Seeing a girlfriend?”

Crais coloured slightly but it was hard to tell whether it was from embarrassment or annoyance, “It’s none of your business.”

“Definitely a girlfriend then,” Crichton remarked, undaunted.

Crais looked darkly at Crichton and left the galley without saying another word.

Armelia stood up to follow her father. Crichton smiled, “Did I hit the nail on the head?” Armelia gave him a dark look too and left.

Crichton looked at Aeryn, and his smile disappeared when he received a dark look from her as well. He shrugged his shoulders, “I was only curious.”

Aeryn shook her head, “You never learn, John. He will tell us when he’s good and ready.”

“Yeah, sure. Captain Clam will tell us.”

Crichton had hit closer to the truth than Crais would have cared to admit. He had been seeing Althea for two weekens since the Spring Festival. He enjoyed her company and he had gotten used to her chatter. Somehow he no longer found it as disconcerting as he had the first time they had met.

Armelia had struck a friendship with the boy she had met at the dance and was spending her afternoons with him, while Crais took long walks with Althea.

The reason he didn’t go down to the planet’s surface every day was that he didn’t want to upset her routine. She had to earn a living, and could not just drop everything the micron he came by, although she certainly seemed willing enough to do so whenever he visited.

They avoided any topics that either of them was uncomfortable with, but they still found a lot to talk about. Or, rather, she talked a lot and he listened.

It all happened quite naturally at the end of the second weeken after he had started coming to visit her. They had been walking in the woods near her house when the heavens opened up and a torrential rain came down.

They ran back to her house, and went in quickly to shelter from the rain. The distance had been long enough and the rain hard enough that they both found themselves soaked to the bone.

Althea laughed and looked at Crais, noting to herself that the rain had made his hair curlier, “You have to get out of that shirt before you catch your death.” She led him to the sitting room and left the room quickly. Crais didn’t mind that he was wet; he stood looking around the room, observing all that was in it.

When she came back, she had wrapped herself in a robe and had already started to towel her hair dry. She had a second towel and another robe draped over her arm and was a bit surprised to find that Crais still had his shirt on. She shook her head. Men could be so stubborn.

“Let me help you,” she said, as she moved over to him.

“I don’t need…” Crais started.

“Oh, don’t be absurd. You have to get out of that shirt. You can wear this robe while it is drying.”

Before Crais could stop her, she had already started undoing the front of his shirt. Strangely enough, he let her. He didn’t say a word as she continued. She touched his chest and he swallowed deeply as her cool hands opened the shirt further.

She looked expectantly up at him, but all she saw was his calm gaze. She grew bolder when he didn’t object and let her hand trail over his wide chest. He neither admonished her nor asked her to stop.

Her hand trailed loosely over one of his nipples and he closed his eyes briefly.

Slowly she slid his shirt off his shoulders, marvelling at how wide and strong they were. Her hands followed the shirt down, sliding over the strong muscles of his arms. As the shirt fell to the floor, it left his torso exposed. A little moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She leaned forwards and planted a soft kiss on his chest.

Her lips felt hot on his cool chest and his breathing grew deeper as they trailed downwards towards his nipples. He closed his eyes and a small rumble formed deep in his throat as her mouth moved over one of them, while her hand danced lightly over the other.

Finally his own hands moved to her shoulders and opened up her robe at the neck. His head moved forward and his mouth trailed a kiss over the nape of her neck. His breath was warm on her skin and his goatee tickled sensually.

She threw her head back and to the side, her shoulder-length dark brown hair falling in waves, exposing her delicate throat. She let him explore more. Her hands moved to his head and tangled in the soft mane of hair that was so abundant. His hair felt like the softest silk as the curls twined as ringlets around her fingers.

His hands continued to slide her robe open further.

His hair trailed over her breasts and sent small shivers through her body each time he moved his head. She pressed his head closer to her and his kisses grew in intensity.

“Come,” she said, breaking free momentarily, and taking him by the hand. She led him to her bedroom. He followed her.

Crais did not object. Nor did he say anything else, for that matter. Part of him was afraid of breaking the spell and the mood. Another part of him wondered if they could continue to be friends afterwards.

She had drawn him into the room and they now stood in the middle of it.

Her hands trailed over his wide shoulders, then down his chest to his abdomen. She lingered briefly to experience the tautness of his muscles before exploring further down.

When her hand moved over the bulge in his trousers, Crais breathed in deeply.

He wanted to touch her, enjoy her and explore her.

He took her by the hands and stepped slightly back from her.

There was disappointment in her eyes, “You don’t want me?”

“More than anything else right now,” his voice was hoarse and his eyes had started to darken with passion.

“Then why not? Is there any physical deterrent?”

“No, nothing of the sort.”

“Then why,” her eyes searched his.

Had this been their first and only night together, Crais might have been content to take his pleasure, relieve the tension and leave the following day.

Instead, he had just spent two weekens getting to know her, being friends and hearing all her secrets. She hardly knew anything about him. She only knew his name, which was a false name, and his reputation as the Dark Captain, and that he had a daughter named Armelia. Crais knew he was taking a big chance but he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eye otherwise.

He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face to look at him. He could see fear and anticipation in her eyes, the fear that he never wanted to see in her eyes when she looked at him.

“My name is Bialar…”

“Like in… Bialar Crais?”

“As in Bialar Crais.”

There was silence. She stared at him with wide eyes, “”You are really…?”

He nodded. His eyes were sad.

A smile tucked at the corners of her mouth. Crais cocked his head in surprise. Althea’s smile widened and then she flung her arms around his neck. Crais was astonished.

She stepped back and smiled. She had tears of joy in her eyes, “You are the one who was responsible for my many cycles of happiness.” She looked into his deep, dark eyes, “Without you, I would never have met Radek. I would never have known such a sweet and loving man.”

Crais pulled back. He was uncomfortable with her gratitude and he didn’t want to compete with a dead man.

Althea drew him back to her, “Please don’t, Bialar… Don’t leave me, at least not today.”

Crais was unsure, and it was mirrored in his eyes.

She rested her head on his bare chest, her hands running lightly over his skin, “I have been without a man ever since Radek died. I found no one worthy after him. You are different. You are strong. Please, Bialar?”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She laughed through tears of joy, “You have to ask? I have wanted you since the very first moment I ever saw you. Before we had even spoken to each other. Before I knew who you were… are.”

Crais drew her closer. His first kiss was light and caressed the top of her head. So were the next few kisses, but soon his need grew, and his mouth sought hers hungrily. She savoured the firmness of his lips on hers. His moustache prickled her skin and sent small shivers through her. She sighed with pleasure. His mouth trailed down to her neck, warm and lingering. She threw her head back, closing her eyes.

His hands were on her shoulders, big hands, strong and warm and gentle.

His lips pressed hot kisses on her shoulder while his hands explored the curves of her breasts. As her breasts disappeared in their hungry grasp, her nipples were trapped between his fingers and she moaned in pleasure. “Bialar,” she whispered.

Crais’ hands roamed further. It had been a long time since anyone had called out his name in passion. Slowly, he exposed more of her by drawing the robe away until it slid to the floor.

Her hands tangled in his hair again, the silky feel of it so sensual under her fingers. When his hands moved down her back, she grasped his hair tighter. Several strands trailed down her breasts, tickling her and causing her to gasp in rapture.

He lifted her by the waist and carried her over to the bed, his mouth never breaking contact with her body. He placed her gently on the bed, admiring the beauty she showed him.

He lay next to her. His eyes feasted on her body while his hand caressed her skin gently. His head moved forwards and his lips touched her pale skin.

“Bialar,” she whispered in pleasure. His mouth curved into a smile.

He moved on top of her, his legs resting between hers. Both his hands kneaded her breasts, then caressed the muscles along her sides. Her flesh felt surprisingly supple and strong. His mouth moved over her collarbone and then to the little spots behind her ears. Her squirming under him felt so good.

Slowly he worked his way down as her gasps became shorter with fewer intervals. When his mouth finally touched her womanhood, her gasps became moans and her legs spread wider.

He moved his mouth and kissed the inside of her thighs, his beard tantalisingly close to her pleasure spot. Her legs scissored together, trapping his head but he would not get closer and she squirmed in frustration.

Her legs opened and she moved into a sitting position. She lifted his head up and gently guided him back up. When he was halfway over her body, she rolled him onto his back. “My turn to tease,” she said.

She straddled him, feeling his bulge through the fabric of his trousers.

She marvelled at the sight of him, his tanned skin and strong, hairless chest. His muscles were so well defined. She trailed her hand slowly over his skin. The tips of her fingernails tracked a gentle path over his chest. The sensation made Crais gasp.

His hands reached up to cup her breasts but she gently moved his hands aside. She bent forward and whispered seductively, “Let me explore you first, please?”

He nodded and laid his arms along his sides.

She kissed his mouth and his eyes. She moved down and planted small kisses on his chin. As her lips traced the hairline scars on his broad chest, she could hear him moan in reluctance and pleasure. Her lips moved over his most recent scar.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his body suddenly tense. He tried to lift her away from his chest.

Her voice was soft, gentle, “Bialar, these scars were won in battle. They are part of you and I want to know every part of you. Let my kisses work like a healing balm.”

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but his hands still clenched the bed coverings.

She brought her head forwards and traced the scar with her lips. Red and dark it stood out against his tanned skin. She placed small kisses on it. He tensed under her lips, felt the panic rise, afraid that she might find it distracting, ugly. But she didn’t pause, didn’t halt, and after a bit, he grew less tense. She continued to do this with all the scars—some from the old lesions and others from battles. She was surprised at their number. Finally, Crais relaxed under her ministrations. He lay very still, but his breathing had deepened.

She trailed her kisses over the rim of his chest, and then down his abdomen, her firm lips roaming over taut skin. Her feather-light hands caressed his body all over. Crais had his eyes closed to concentrate on her every touch.

Her tongue touched the rim of his navel, while her hands made soft circling movements over his nipples, barely touching them. She could feel Crais moving underneath her. Could feel the bulge strain against his trousers.

She moved up and laid full length on top of him, kissing his closed eyes, then his lips. Her hands tangled loosely in his glorious hair.

He opened his eyes and she saw that they were filled with passion. She smiled.

She finally allowed him to let his hands trail over her body, giving in to the gentle exploration of his big, strong hands. His hands were calloused where he was wont to grip his weapons, and the combinations of rough texture and smooth skin sent shivers down her spine. Her nipples were trapped between the smooth skin of the inside of his fingers, while the rough calluses of his forefinger caressed the tips, hardening them. He pulled her slowly towards him and when she was close, he released her breasts and his hands moved to her back, where his fingers soon found the pressure points above her coccyx.

Like a musician, he played the hollow of her back as she squirmed in pleasure on top of him, unable to stop herself. His right hand touched the ridges of her spine, applying just enough pressure to make her lean towards him.

“Oh, Bialar,” she whispered, while trying to press closer. For a little while longer, she let him explore more pleasure spots on her back until she could take no more. She sat up and fumbled with the front of his trousers; his manhood springing to attention the moment that the front of his trousers were loosened.

“My! You do surprise me, Bialar,” she licked her lips, “Well endowed too.”

Crais coloured.

“No need to be ashamed of that, Captain.”

She took his boots off first, impressed by the way the clasps worked. His trousers followed next. She stood back and admired him in his full glory. When she realized that Crais was growing uncomfortable under her scrutiny, she moved back to him, kneeling on the bed. She massaged his body, starting with the feet.

His feet, like his hands, were big, surprisingly strong, and well shaped.

She kissed his legs, working herself slowly up. Again she felt tension from him as she lingered too long on his right leg. Although that leg looked strong, it also looked thinner than the left leg, not quite as strong and muscled. She saw the long, reddish, jagged scar on his thigh. One didn’t need to be a Healer to see that this was the cause of his limp. She could see how his hands clenched the sheets, and she didn’t want to give him any further discomfort.

Her mouth moved towards his manhood. Already it stood proudly at attention as her eyes lit up in pleasure at the sight. He was well endowed and well shaped. It stood proud and erect; his scrotum full and hard.

It surprised her how light-coloured and fine the hairs on his arms and legs were, compared to the dark masses of curly hair, which grew from his scalp and surrounded his manhood.

Her raspy tongue trailed the inside of his legs, stopping just short of his manhood. She took pleasure in his gasps of anticipation. Her tongue trailed near but didn’t touch him, yet.

“Althea, stop teasing,” he groaned in a hoarse voice. He could feel his heart hammer in his chest.

Her tongue trailed the length of his shaft and she was rewarded by a low growl of pleasure. Her tongue didn’t stop there and played lightly over the tip of his shaft. The mixture of her hot tongue and then the cooling sensation afterwards made Crais moan. He balled his fists in pleasure but he could also feel a tightening in his chest.

He had to make her stop, even if it was only momentarily. He sat up and gently moved her head away. She looked at him with wide-open eyes and a touch of hurt, “You do not find this pleasurable, Bialar?”

He smiled at her, “Too pleasurable. You will have to give me a little time.”

She didn’t understand.

He got up from the bed and went into the other room. He picked up his shirt and felt in the sleeve-pocket. For a moment he looked with hesitation at the small pill in his hand. He had not anticipated this much pleasure today. He could either not take it and leave, or he could own up to his weakness, swallow the pill and his pride, and find bliss. He closed his eyes briefly, then popped the pill into his mouth. He didn’t want to disappoint her. He certainly didn’t want to pass out on her. He wanted to explore her, and feel her, and he wanted to be felt by her.

The effects of the pill were soon evident, and the rhythm of his heart slowed down to a less uncomfortable level. He returned to the bedroom.

He had believed that she couldn’t see him, but the door had been left ajar, and she had seen his actions reflected in the mirror opposite the door. She had seen his hesitation.

She wondered what he had taken. She hoped it wasn’t something to enhance his lovemaking artificially. She wanted to recreate with him naturally. From what she had seen, he didn’t need a stimulant. She felt slightly saddened.

When he returned, he found her sitting up in bed, a sad expression on her face. The covers were drawn to her chin, “Why Bialar?”

He was confused, “I do not understand.”

“Why do you need a stimulant? I thought I was able to arouse you.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her chin gently with his hand. His eyes showed a mixture of sadness and gentleness in them, “You do arouse me, very pleasantly, very thoroughly, Althea. What I had to take was not a stimulant.”

She gazed into his dark eyes with a questioning look.

He took a deep breath, “I had not thought that it would be a problem.” He took another deep breath, and looked away, “I had an operation six weekens ago to restore my heart and lung functions. The pleasure you were giving me was making my heart beat too fast. I didn’t want to alarm you.”

She drew closer to him and touched his chest, his recent scar, “That is why you wanted me to draw back earlier?”

He nodded.

“Does it hurt? Does that mean we can’t…”

“We can, but maybe we won’t, now that you know I am not as strong as you thought I was.”

She knelt behind him. Her arms slid over his shoulders, down to his chest and caressed his sensitive nipples gently. His breath caught, his eyes closed and he leaned into her. Strands of his hair tickled her pleasantly in various places, as if they were leading a life of their own.

Her lips were close to his ears and she whispered, “Bialar, I want you.” Her breath caressed his skin. Her words set his body afire.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. When she looked down, she saw that he was becoming aroused again. “Althea, I want you,” he whispered back.

He made her lay back. His mouth was hot on her skin. His beard trailed electrifying tickles down the length of her body. He sucked one of her nipples in his mouth, his teeth worrying gently around the nipple while the tip of his tongue danced lightly over the tip. One of his hands made circling movements over the other nipple, while his other hand sought out the sensitive spots in the hollow of her back.

She gasped and arched her body toward him, but he wouldn’t be hurried.

Slowly his lips trailed down. He kissed the ridge of her chest. He kissed her taut abdomen. She arched up but his lips continued to dance over her like a breeze.

His mouth reached the edge of her mount; both his hands on her breasts, squeezing them gently, his fingers playing with her nipples. They grew hard under his ministrations.

Her hands were entangled in his hair and her body rocked lightly to the touch of his mouth.

He went lower. Kissed the inside of her thighs, lingered. His hands dropped away from her breasts and parted her womanhood. She gasped. He blew his hot breath over her moist opening. Her eyes closed. For a moment his forefinger circled the little bud, felt it hardening. She squirmed.

When his mouth closed over it, it was as though an electric current travelled through her. His goatee tickled lower down. The hands in his hair tightened in rapture. Her eyes opened briefly, unseeing, and her tongue trailed a path over her lips, “Oh, Bialar…” Her voice was just a sigh.

His raspy tongue prodded inside, gently but insistently. Her legs spread wider.

His hands moved to her bottom and she arched up to accommodate him. His hands kneaded her gently and her abdomen tightened.

His sucking and probing mouth drove her exquisitely near to the edge. When he could hear her gasps turn fast and felt her moist mount press to his mouth, he stopped and trailed his lips over her thighs again. Her gasps slowed down.

When her breathing became more regular again, he returned his mouth to her waiting and warm treasure. Three more times he brought her to the brink, until she thought her body was on fire and would never be quenched.

“Bialar… stop… teasing… oooh!” Her body was a writhing mass under his, and his shoulders held her legs down while his hands found all the pleasure spots on her lower back.

Finally, he moved his body up, his weight comfortable on the length of her body.

She could feel his hard throbbing member rest on her mount. He was in no hurry to enter yet.

When she looked into his eyes, she could see how his eyes had grown almost black in passion.

His mouth sought hers as he kissed her. His tongue explored the inside of her mouth, danced over her teeth, passed over her tongue. She could taste herself on his tongue and the warmth of his tongue brought ecstasy to her.

He shifted slightly and she could feel how his shaft probed the entrance of her sweet cleft.

She began to move her hands down to guide him in.

He lifted his head up and shook it gently.

He showed his control when the tip finally reached the opening. He gently moved forwards, penetrating her. She gasped into his mouth, which had started to kiss her again.

His strokes were slow. His mouth moved down and took one of her nipples, sucking it gently. She arched into him but he didn’t speed up. Her body writhed, was on fire. Her hands entangled themselves again in his glorious hair. She gasped and whispered his name softly over and over.

He looked up, his hands on her breasts. He looked into her half-closed eyes, drank in the rapture he found there. Listened to his name on her lips.

His strokes went deeper, keeping time with her gasps. Her nails dug into his shoulders, getting a firmer grip on his body. Her legs encircled his hips, hoping to feel him deeper inside of her.

He speeded up, delved even deeper, until his scrotum touched her bottom.

He was so hard, so big. Her nails trailed over his back. She cried in ecstasy.

He drove her to the heights of orgasm after orgasm and only when he felt her slow down under him, did he finally allow himself to come. His body tensed and a great shudder went through him. At the last microt, he buried his head in her hair, holding her tight. His mane of hair covered them like a blanket.

Their breathing slowly settled down. His warmth on her, his weight on her body, was comforting. She could hear his breathing next to her. Deep, slow.

He lay on his back, sated, her head on his chest. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. His arm encircled her shoulders.

“Bialar?”

“Hmm?” His voice sounded sleepy.

“Will you stay?”

He was quiet for a moment, “I can’t.”

“Oh.” There was disappointment in that single word.

“I would love to,” replied Crais sadly, “but I can’t. My place is out there, not planet-bound.”

“Wouldn’t you want to try?”

He looked down and lifted her face to look at him, his eyes filled with sadness. “It would be physically impossible for me to stay on the planet. I will have to return to Talyn, my ship, tonight.”

“You are leaving so soon?” Her fingers caressed his chest.

“No, I have to return to my ship to sleep.”

She didn’t understand, “Why?”

He looked up at the ceiling, “To sustain my health, I need my ship. My health depends on the air that my ship can provide, especially now. Even when I am completely healed, I will still need his air, maybe not daily, but certainly very regularly. Besides, my ship needs me too.”

She looked away from him, settling back on his chest, “Will you still want to see me for as long as you remain in orbit?”

There was a little rumbling in his chest, “I want you with me all the time.”

Her breath caught, “You mean that?”

He chuckled, “More than anything.”

“You want me to… become your… mate?”

“I want you to become my bond-mate.”

She bit her bottom lip. Exultation and doubt warred inside her, “I… I would like that but...”

“I know. You have a life here on the planet. I know that it is a hard decision to make. I understand.”

“I need some time.”

He kissed the top of her head, “I will comply with your wishes.”

They settled back together. A contented silence lay between them.

Later, they made love again.

When Crais joined Moya’s crew that evening, they noticed that he was quieter than usual.

“Wassup, Crais?”

Crais looked at Crichton, “Nothing.”

“Yeah, right. You sure are quiet tonight.”

“As you have remarked so often, it’s not that unusual,” Crais said evasively.

Aeryn joined the conversation, “John is right. You are even more quiet than usual.”

Crais sighed, “It’s nothing. I just exerted myself a little more than normal today.”

Worry played across Aeryn’s features, “Are you all right, Crais?”

He smiled at her, “Yes, Aeryn, I am. There is no need to concern yourself on my behalf.”

Crichton observed the man closely, “You know, you are a bit white around the gills, Crais.”

Crais frowned, “I am not a fish, Crichton.”

“No, it means you are a bit pale. If you want to leave earlier than usual today, we’ll understand.”

Crais shook his head, “No, I’ll stay until my usual time.”

Crichton’s eyebrows shot up. Crais normally looked for excuses to leave early; he should certainly have jumped at the excuse given, “Something is up! You are definitely not yourself tonight.” He warmed to the idea of solving the mystery of what Crais was not telling them.

“I am just a little tired. Otherwise, I am fine,” said Crais.

Crichton grinned, “Sure, Crais.”

“Leave him alone, John,” Aeryn scowled at him.

Crichton smiled. He was going to find out.

As soon as Crais stepped on board Talyn, Talyn began to chirp happily.

“Yes, Talyn, I am happy.”

~Do you think she will accept?~

“I don’t know, Talyn. She said she will think about it.”

~Will she be travelling with us then?~

“If she accepts, she will.”

Talyn thought something over for a little while, keeping Crais out until he had formulated his thoughts ~If she says “no”, will you still see her? Will we be leaving?~

Crais could feel the apprehension in the Leviathan, “If she says no, I hope we can still be friends. And, no, if she says “no” we will not leave immediately. I’m still healing and I think Moya wants to be with you a little longer.”

Talyn was content with that answer.

Crais undressed slowly and lay down on the bed. As he closed his eyes, Talyn flooded the room with the purified oxygen.

Crais stayed on board for the next two days.

Working out. Tiring himself out. For the first time in three weekens, Armelia had to excuse his absence again. Armelia spent the days on the planet.

Aeryn finally went over to Talyn. She wanted to make sure that Crais was all right. His behaviour worried her. She found him in the galley. It was obvious that he had just finished his workout.

He was startled when she walked in, “Aeryn! What are you doing here?”

“Seeing if you are all right.”

“I am all right,” he looked away from her.

She noticed his pallor, “You are overdoing it again. Why, Crais?”

“Just felt like it.”

“Just like that? What happened on the planet, Crais?”

“Nothing.”

“I thought you could trust me.”

“I do.”

“Then why lie to me?”

Crais sighed. When he looked at her, she saw sadness and confusion, “I met a woman…”

She smiled, “That’s wonderful!”

“We are… friends. (Aeryn stayed silent, knowing that there was more to come.) And we…ah… recreated.”

Aeryn smiled openly and laid her hand on his, “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I asked her to become my bond-mate.” He looked up.

Aeryn grinned, happy for him, “Did she say “yes”?”

“She said she would think about it. She will probably refuse.” Crais stood up and got some water, then reached for his walking stick again.

“Why would she refuse?”

Crais turned round to her, “Why would she want a cripple?”

Aeryn understood, “Is that the reason you have been working out so much?”

He hung his head, his voice suddenly soft, “Yes.”

Aeryn walked over to him and laid a hand gently on his shoulder, “Have faith, Crais. Don’t doubt yourself. That would be crippling. Go to her and find out.”

He looked up and smiled wryly, “I will.”

He went down to the planet’s surface the next day, and watched from the shadows of a nearby shop as Althea worked in her stall. She was very intent on helping a customer, very animated. He breathed deeply. Yes, he wanted her, but he couldn’t take her away from the life she knew. For a moment, he contemplated walking away.

The customer left and Althea sighed deeply.

“Hello, Althea.”

His rich, deep voice excited her. She looked up with a smile, “Hello, Bialar.”

He looked furtively around them but no one was there to overhear.

“I thought you would never return. What happened?”

He looked at her, and then it suddenly dawned on him. There was no way she could have contacted him. “I… I was preoccupied.”

“For two days?”

He looked embarrassed.

She smiled at him, “I thought you might have liked to hear what I wanted to tell you.” She stood up and closed the stall. She didn’t wait for his answer but led him down to the promenade.

“I thought about what you said. About being your bond-mate, and my life here…”

“I understand,” Crais said gently, as she watched the sadness gather in his eyes.

“No, you don’t,” her face lit up with a smile. His face betrayed confusion. Her smile grew broader, “It would be an honour to become your bond-mate. Yes, I do love you. Yes, I will come with you, and yes, I will be your bond-mate.”

Crais was stunned. He was happy, but for a moment all colour drained from his face, and she was worried that he would faint on her or, worse, had changed his mind.

The walking stick dropped from his hand as his arms encircled her waist. He buried his face in her hair and held her close. She laughed in his arms and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his head.

Talyn chirped happily in his mind.

The End

FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais by GitonCrais, NC17

FanFiction on Captain Bialar Crais