by Ekiri
Disclaimer: OK, I don't even own the spotted food cubes. I wish I did. Before
you go and sue me, keep in mind that fanfic indirectly can get more viewers
and sell more merchandise!
Archive: Wherever. Just send my the URL so I can make sure you spelled my
name right.
Spoilers: None that I see, but if you're paranoid, stay back.
Rating: PG at worst.
Notes: If you people see this as humor, I'll enter it in the contest. I can
never tell. I write X-Files stuff that's supposed to be serious that everyone
thinks is hilarious.
*****
John pushed aside the assorted colors of food cubes in the refrigeration
unit. "Boring," he said to himself, moving some brown ones out of his way.
"Ate those this morning, and these-" he took the out from the very back.
"These have spots. Never had these before." He cautiously sniffed. "Hey, they
smell like something. Kinda like cheese." He sat down and ate most of the
polks-dotted food cubes.
As Crichton wandered off through the corridors of Moya, he heard voices
ahead, out of sight around a corner. Stopping, he listened.
"Aeryn," D'Argo said. "I need to speak with you."
"Why?" Aeryn asked.
"There's something I need to tell you."
Crichton heard them approaching and quickly ducked out of sight into another
corridor. What did D'Argo have to tell Aeryn? That question plagued him until
he went to sleep as he didn't want to ask either of them in case he wouldn't
want to know the answer.
*****
Crichton found himself on a padded pedestal about four feet about a huge mat.
A few feet away was an identical pedestal with D'Argo atop it. Both the human
and the Luxan were holding what appeared to be oversized Q-Tips. Off to the
side was Aeryn, dressed in black leather and gothic makeup, and she was
smoking something Crichton guessed wouldn't be legal on Earth.
"Since when did Aeryn go Satan worshipper?" he asked himself. "And why am I
on American Gladiators?"
"On the red pedestal," an announcer called from nowhere. "We have Ka D'Argo!"
The crowd booed.
"On American Gladiators meets boxing," Crichton corrected himself.
"And on the blue pedestal we have John Crichton!"
The crowd cheered. "At least they like me." D'Argo started growling. " 'Cause
I'm pretty much screwed."
"The winner of this fight will get the radiant Aeryn Sun!" The announcer
added.
"What?!" He adjusted his grip on the giant Q-Tip and it began to slip out of
his hands as a loud ding sounded. It fell to the mat, and a swing from D'Argo
sent Crichton falling soon after.
"Hey!" Crichton protested from the mat. "I wasn't ready!"
D'Argo jumped off his pedestal and walked off with Aeryn. Crichton tried to
get up to follow but smacked his head on the unpadded underside of his
pedestal. "Wait! Aeryn's mine!"
"You lost, nurfer," the announced said. The crowd laughed.
"But-"
"Give it up. She's gone."
*****
John Crichton woke on the floor. He stretched and got up to get a midnight
snack. Maybe he could shatter the food cubes to pieces since he couldn't hurt
D'Argo and the DRD's had been through enough abuse. He decided he had no
chance against D'Argo the warrior and trudged down the corridors.
He found Aeryn eating some of the brown food cubes. Trying not to look at
her, John looked through the refrigeration unit.
"Aeryn, you seen any food cubes with spots?"
"Of course. I threw them out."
"Why?"
"Crichton, you need to get more sleep. They were covered with the fungi of at
least three systems. Probably highly poisonous. You didn't eat any did you?"
"No. They smelled funny." And hadn't quite tasted right either, he thought.
"Why're you up?"
"D'Argo kicked a DRD into my Prowler. I was trying to fix it and got hungry."
Crichton was relieved and smiled, deciding too late that it probably wasn't a
good idea.
"What're you so happy about? He scratched the paint and left a dent at least
the size of Pilot's head. It's going to take weekens to repair."
"Nothing."
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