Till the Blood Runs Clear


John: This rocks!
Aeryn: Rocks?
John: Yeah, rocks, Aeryn. As in it kicks ass.
Aeryn: Oh, I take it that means you're pleased.

John: Best idea I've had yet.
Aeryn: That's far from a recommendation.

Zhaan: This star is unusually erratic.
Aeryn: Sounds just like Crichton.

John: Flight recorder getting all this?
Aeryn: You mean this retrograde magnetic recording device?
John: Yeah, that.

John: It was a solar flare, I think, that opened up the wormhole that brought me here. That and the slingshot maneuver I was flying at the time.
Aeryn: What do you call the maneuver we're doing now? John: Slingshot.
Aeryn: Does that mean you're trying to create the same conditions to go back?
John: It's a long shot, but sometimes long shots pay off, Aeryn.
Aeryn: What, now?

Zhaan: Rygel, why must one always think of one?

D'Argo: So there's no reason for us to stay.
Zhaan: I could think of a reason.

Rygel: She's gone completely farbohtz.

Zhaan: It's called a photogasm.
Rygel: I'll get a mop and bucket.

D'Argo: I forbid this!
John: You know what, D'Argo? Sometimes you're a real pain in the ass.

John: You're with me on this, right?
Aeryn: Oh, now it occurs to you to ask.

Aeryn: Does this have anything to do with the repairs?
Furlow: Just making conversation.
Aeryn: Don't make conversation, fix the module!

John: Nice glasses.

John: What's your problem? I thought you'd be dancing in the streets. If I figured out a way to make a wormhole, I am out of here. I'm out of your hair, once and for all. Unless you want to come with me. That offer's still open. You can think about it.
Aeryn: No, I don't want to think about it.
John: We can talk about it.
Aeryn: No.

Rorf: Is this your female?
Aeryn: I am no one's female!

John: Back off! Get that weaponout of my face before I feed it to you. Now tell your bitch to let my female go.
Rorf: Then this female is your mate.
John: One of them.

Rorf: We are Vocarian Blood Trackers. The best.
John: Second best.

John: I'm Butch. This is Sundance.

Zhaan: Let us never leave this place.

Rygel: I don't think you want to go after her. She said something about leaving her clothes behind.

John: The beacon is useless. It doesn't tell you these fugitives won't be taken without a lot of blood spilled.
Rorg: We like spilled blood.
John: Yeah, well I don't. Not my own.

John: I'll split the bounty. 70-30.
Rorf: 20-40!
John: 80-40. You in or out?

John: You're taking this pretty well. I figured you'd be killing yourself by now.
Aeryn: It's necessary. What made you think of it?
John: A hunch. The leader.
Aeryn: Compared to the Vocarian, you're neither the biggest nor the baddest.
John: Yeah, well, they don't know that. Any sign of submission and you're lunch.
Aeryn: I showed no sign of submission.
John: You didn't have to. You're a female. Sorry. I don't make the rules.
Aeryn: You certainly seem familiar with them.

John: Crais is sending you love letters?

Crais: You have my oath as a Peacekeeper.
John: Yeah, we know what that's worth.

John: Hey, you're not taking him seriously.
Aeryn: I always take him seriously.

D'Argo: I will kill you, Crichton!
Rorf: Crichton? Your name's Crichton?
John: Yeah, Butch Crichton.

Furlow: Why don't you go for a nice little walk outside, take in some of the sights?
Aeryn: What sights?
Furlow: if you go straight out that way, there's a truly outstanding expanse of sand.
Aeryn: Sand, eh?
Furlow: Just as much as you could want.
Aeryn: There are plenty of things I want at the moment, and sand isn't one of them.

Rygel: Are you fully clothed?
Zhaan: I'm not wearing a scrap. I'm as nude as a newborn baby.
Rygel: Then go away. And don't insult my eyes with your naked blue extremities.
Zhaan: Which ones in particular don't you like? Show them to me.
Rygel: No thank you. Help, help! A mad Delvian exhibitionist is forcing herself on me... visually!

John: Look-
Aeryn: Look. Right now I don't look at all.

John: You can't look after yourself. Not right now. So stop acting like a bad ass Peacekeeper-
Aeryn: Ex-Peacekeeper, actually.

Zhaan: Oh, help me. This is hardly the time.

John: Huh. Some days you get lucky.

John: I just wanted to go home!
D'Argo: Well, no matter the cost to the rest of us.
John: What? Oh, right, remind me, who was it that chopped off Pilot's arm for a return ticket? No, wasn't me. I was too busy saving your ass. Too busy keeping your deepest family secrets.
D'Argo: Shall I chronicle the rest of that relationship?
John: Relationship? Oh, we have a relationship. No wonder you want to kill me.
D'Argo: I once thought-
John: Thought what? No no, no, no. Thank me tomorrow. I saved your ass today.
D'Argo: You tortured me.
John: I saved you! You know what? I have no idea what goes on in that tiny brain of yours, D'Argo.
D'Argo: And I have no idea why you do anything that you do.
John: Catch a clue, pal, because I am tired of sticking my hand out only to have you snap at it.
D'Argo: Every time I let down my guard, you disappoint me.
John: Sorry. I'm only human.
D'Argo: You look so much like a Peacekeeper, I often forget.

John: You are so childish!
D'Argo: You are selfish.
John: Can be. What about uou? Selfish?
D'Argo: Sometimes.
John: I ever come up to you with a weapon? This isn't going to work, is it? We're never going to be friends.
D'Argo: Friendship is a lot to ask.
John: Then how about respect? We can be allies.

John: D'Argo, next time you pick a place to hide, pick one with a back door.

Zhaan: The flares have stopped.
John: What? You sure?
Zhaan: If they hadn't I'd... I'd still be indisposed.

John: Listen, Aeryn... Crais' offer of amnesty... You're not seriously considering it, are you? You don't think he'd keep his word, do you?
Aeryn: I believe he would restore my commision and give me honorable retirement. But what he means be honorable retirement is radiation-induced brain fever to bring on the living death.
John: Well, if you knew the offer was bogus, then why did you listen to it?
Aeryn: Because it was nice, just for a moment, to believe that it was genuine. That I could go back.

John: Hey, Furlow. Five years from now, I'll be waiting for you at the end of the wormhole.

Furlow: Are you sure you don't want that thing detailed?

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