TITLE: "PeaceKeeper Discipline, Chapter 1"
RATING: NC-17 Violence, harsh language, BDSM, nonconsensual D/s
SUMMARY: John decides to teach Aeryn a lesson she'll never forget.
Warning: This story involves some fairly rough treatment of Aeryn
and a side of John that may make some readers uncomfortable. If bondage
and non-consensual BDSM squick you, skip this one. In this story,
John and D'Argo are established lovers, but this is not part of my
"Blood Brothers" series" -- no schmoop here. This story is also set
after BadGrrl's "Fingercuffs" -- if you haven't read that
story, you might want to read it now.
NOTES: Many thanks to BadGrrl for beta-ing and and for allowing me
to use the events of "Fingercuffs" as a jumping-off point, and to
Aenea for the gracious loan of this plot bunny.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please! [email protected]
Slamming her helmet down on the table in the maintenance bay, Aeryn
flung Crichton a withering look.
"What? What did I do now, Aeryn?" Crichton asked, sighing. "Did I
breathe funny while we were up there? Didn't have the right look on my
face or something? What?" He climbed down from the module, tired from
hours of fruitless flying, hours of useless work that had not
produced either a wormhole or one scrap of useable data. Tired of
Aeyrn's unending flow of demeaning commentary. I'm tired of Aeryn and
her shit, he thought, feeling flayed raw by her sarcasm. Woman uses her
tongue like a razor blade.
""Nothing, Crichton." Aeryn snapped, jerking her gloves off with
staccato, sharp gestures.
"Nothing, my ass! You know, I can go up and gather data by myself
now -- I don't need you to hold my hand. I don't know what you even
bother going with me for anyway -- all you do is yell at me about
every goddamn thing I do. What crawled up your ass and died, huh?"
She turned on him. "I did not hear that correctly, Crichton, and
I would advise you not to repeat it." she said tightly.
Something snapped. He was oh so tired of this, and this was it. This
was the line. He felt an unfamiliar smile stretching his face. Oh,
fuck it, he thought, she deserves this. This is gonna be fun. "Oh,
microbes couldn't handle that one? How about this -- why are you such a
bitch?" He moved up close to her, invading her space, crowding her.
"I'm sick of being your punching bag. It's gonna stop."
"*What* did you call me?" she said slowly. Her hands fisted, she
crowded him right back, face to face with him.
"Gee, are you hard of hearing? Microbes still not getting me? I called
you a bitch. A cold, ball-cutting bitch."
Her hand drew back, her face pale with rage. Crichton caught her
wrist before the blow could land, staring her down. "Ah-ah, none of
that PeaceKeeper shit, honey. I fell for that once. It ain't gonna
happen again." She tried to twist away, lashed out with a foot that
caught Crichton above the knee. Chuffing out a pained breath, he
jerked her around, pulling her arm up behind her back. He held her
away from his body, dodging her backward kicks and flailing free arm,
leaning forward at the waist to speak into her ear.
"I told you if you ever tried that one again, you'd better make sure
I didn't wake up. You lost your chance, sweetheart. Now we're gonna
have that serious talk I promised you, and you are going to listen, I
"I'm going to kill you, Crichton!" Aeryn yelled, struggling against
the hand holding her arm behind her.
"Maybe so. But I promise you I'm gonna get my point across to you
first." He yanked up on the arm he held, and she could feel her shoulder
wrenching, twisting in the socket. She stopped struggling, standing
tense, back arched, waiting for him to make a mistake so that she could
get loose and kill him. Slowly.
He laughed, understanding. "You just keep thinking, Butch, that's
what you're good at. You're not getting out of it this time, Aeryn. You
pushed it too far, and I am going to start pushing back. I'm tired of
being nice. This is your dance, babe. You bought it with that sharp
fucking tongue of yours, and now you're gonna pay for it." He reached
around and ripped her comm badge off, stuffing it in his pocket. She
opened her mouth to yell for Pilot, and he clamped his hand over it,
"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let's go."
He half shoved, half carried her into the storage compartment, her
fighting every inch of the way. Hitting the door control with his
elbow, he locked the door, glancing around to make sure no mechanical
eyes were watching. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the
squirming, hissing armful he was trying to keep hold of.
"Aeryn, listen to me. I'm gonna move my hand off your mouth, and
you are going to be quiet. Understand?"
She shook her head, and he sighed, pulling up on her arm again. She
gave a sharp, smothered gasp, and then nodded.
Smiling, he took his hand away and triggered his own comm badge.
"Yes, Crichton." D'Argo's voice answered.
"I need your help, big guy. Can you meet me in the rear storage
compartment on tier 14?"
"Nothing. I just have a little --"
"D'Argo! This is Aeryn -- Crichton is crazy, he's --" Aeryn yelled.
Sighing, Crichton clamped his hand back over her mouth.
"Crichton? What is going on?" D'Argo said, sounding concerned.
"I think Aeryn needs a lesson or two. Like the other night, if you
get me." Crichton said.
"Crichton, I don't understand."
"I'll explain it when you get here. Just bring me the stuff out of
the drawer by my bed, OK?"
"Oh. I see. Are you sure, John?" D'Argo asked, and Crichton could
hear the dawning comprehension and amusement in his lover's voice.
"Absolutely. Hurry up, all right?"
"I understand." The frequency cut off, and Crichton leaned down again
to speak pleasantly into Aeryn's ear. "Don't worry, babe. Help's on
the way -- problem is, it isn't gonna help you much." She threw another
kick behind her in answer, and he laughed softly.