TITLE: "A WISH THE HEART MAKES"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/STARK

RATING: NC-17. M/M. *SLASH*

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"A WISH THE HEART MAKES"
A "Farscape" slash story
* * * * *

His bed was lumpy, uncomfortable, aided and abetted by the fact that he could not sleep. Night after night he had found himself dreaming about Stark. The dreams becoming more frequent and intense the closer it got to Christmas. If a wish was a dream the heart makes Santa knew only too well what John Crichton wanted to find in his stocking. <Not gonnna happen Santa. No Christmas trees, no chimney stacks out here in the Uncharted Territories. Just a big bad Grinch and a whole ton of wicked elves>

His heart ached. He knew he was just setting himself up for a fall but ever since last time part of him had been searching for and yearning for Stark. Sure he had Aeryn, as much as the former Peace Keeper could give herself to anyone. On good days they even got to speak without
rowing and on even rarer occasions all the pieces of that particular puzzle fell into place long enough for them to have a few peaceful arns and hot, incredibly frenzied love making. It was like being in love with a land mine. Every movement had to be weighed up and carried out with care and precision to avoid detonation. Too often that mine had blown up in his face, taking little pieces of his heart along with it. Yet even on those good days, the ones he lived for, they both knew the bad old ex-Peace Keeper was just waiting around the corner to whip his ass and send him to Hezmana for daring to think that a deficient being like him could taint the racial puriety of the Radiant Aeryn Sun. So they tip-toed around each other most days, and frelled each other senseless in moments of desperation when their hormones kicked in with such need that everything else was propelled out of the nearest airlock until sanity returned albeit briefly to their corner of the funny farm. Oh yeah, being John Crichton really rocked. But only on the days it did not suck.

As always his thoughts returned to Stark. *His* Stark was not like that. Not only was his love constant and true it was also all encompassing. Invading and cherishing him heart, mind and soul in ways that made their love making something that went so far beyond sex that he could fill a
whole new vocabulary with words to describe the awesome beauty they shared. He missed
him so much. Like a phantom limb he would sometimes wake to feel him still there beside him only to reach out and touch emptiness and the desolation of grief. Every day he woke to a new bereavement His face wet with tears he never realised he was crying. Yet he knew why they could not be together. Had accepted it in his mind but not his heart. Tried to be as brave as this
dearest of friends but he was an imperfect human and he missed him. More than the loss of a limb was this loss of the heart. He loved Aeryn, always had, always would, but he *adored* Stark. Stark was more than a lover. More than a friend. He was his soul mate. His companion through the hallways of eternity. The one being he cherished above all others.

He did not know the exact date. Hell. He did not even know what monen - whoops, month - it was. Yet his internal body clock was keeping count as meticulously as it had done all through his childhood. Stark. He closed his eyes and rolled over. <Ho, frelling ho>

The bed was lumpy. He must have tossed and turned like crazy to ruck the covers up this much. He reached out to straighten the covers when the lumpiness became a shape. The shape took form beneath his stunned fingers. The form moved. <Impossible. Not happening> He froze. <Wake up Johnny boy. Look what Santa's brought you for Christmas> He opened his eyes slowly, half fear and half expectation. As his eyes flickered open and began to focus something touched his face. A warm gentle caress that reduced his heart to a puddle of emotion. His body jolted by a delicious current enervating him from head to toe, cell by frelling cell energised by this most precious of touches. His joy so intense no single being should be able to contain such joy and live. He whooped with joy and hugged him through his tears. Stark! It was really him. He was solid to his touch, his gentle face filled with such love that Crichton's heart was swimming in ecstasy. Stark stroked his cheek and dried his tears with one hand, outlining the planes and angles of his face, his touch lacing ribbons of joy from his fingertips and leaving their feather light impression burned into Crichton's flesh. His other hand slowly reached up to undo his mask.

"Merry Christmas, John!" He whispered. Then his light engulfed the human. Warmth and love became synonymous with everything that was Stark.

The light touched him. His heart opened in automatic response to embrace his friend. Then they were merging, the look on Stark's face beatifying him and drawing tears of joy from Crichton's eyes. He reached out for him, drew him close and gently reined kisses on him, loving him so much, wanting him so passionately so that not even the solar winds could dance between them. He would rather die here and now in Stark's arms than spend another microt apart from him. <Stark! Oh God, Stark, I can't believe you're really here>

<Believe it, John>

<I've missed you so much>

<As I have missed you> Soothed Stark.

* * * * *

Aeryn thought she heard something. Noises coming from Crichton's room. She had not been able to sleep and had been walking around Moya aimlessly. Letting her steps carry her where they would and inevitably she had come to stand outside the human's converted cell. It was stupid. Senseless really. But the habit was hard to break and she got comfort from knowing he was there. Even when they were not talking she checked up on him. Had to know that he was alright. Now she peered quietly into the darkened cell. Nothing. She could not see anything but neither could she hear anything. Aeryn drew her pulse gun and activated the light. Her eyes widened. Surprised. Stunned. The cell was empty. The bed an untidy mess as if he had spent the whole sleep cycle tossing and turning. Concerned Aeryn went to check the terrace but he was not there. She searched Moya but could not find him.

"Pilot?"

"Yes, Aeryn."

"Where is Crichton?"

Silence for a microt. She waited. The silence lengthened. She frowned. "Pilot?"

"Commander Crichton is no longer on Moya."

Fear raged with a rising panic in her heart. She had surely misheard him. "Pilot, that's impossible."

"I am sorry Aeryn but neither Moya nor I can detect his presence on this vessel."

Aeryn broke into a run. "Wake the others Pilot and ask Moya to scan the ship for possible intruders!"

* * * * *

It was beautiful. All his heart desired and more. His lips sank into Stark's, tasting the sweetness of him as his thoughts invaded his mind with gentle caresses of their own. His heart sighed, completely lost yet never more at home than he was now. Such deep content that it was almost
painful but a delicious pain. He felt Stark hush him, his hands warming his cooling flesh and stirring him with emotions and desires that bathed him in a tranquil pool of deepening desire. He wanted this. Needed it and craved it with every atom of his being. Stark knew and amplified his presence to fulfill every need the human could possibly imagine triggering responses that left Crichton weak as his need overwhelmed him. The sensation of being loved so totally hummed through his cells that he felt lighter than air, as insubstantial as a cobweb clinging to the walls of eternity. His sigh was stronger than he was and almost blew him away as they merged with such
intensity it was like his whole body had come in a rich flow of jism that seeded the stars and begat new worlds that danced and spun and sang in the awesome tremor of Stark's light. He wanted to remake them in Stark's image. For every shining light in the sky to be part of his reflected glory.

He felt Stark smile, so gently his heart ached with love of him. Stark kissed his heart with lips that did not obey the confines of mortal flesh. It felt so natural to be physically touched deep inside where no one else had ever been. There were no boundaries between them. Nothing to divide their questing souls from joining on every level. If they could imagine it they could attain it. *I think therefore I am* suddenly made perfect sense. Such an elegant insight. A perpetual truth. The hands that touched him moved his soul also, taking his heart on a journey that stole the breath from his lungs as he reciprocated in kind. A slow unravelling of sensations and feelings complimented their love making, drew it into another level, another plane of existence. Too refined, too beautitul and sacred for the clumsy articulation of mortal existence. His flesh was burning up but with such sweet passion the ecstasy ruled him and remade him out of the stellar dust of his heart's yearning. Stark held him, loved him so gently, merged with him and
moulded his soul to his in an embrace that was timeless.

<I thought I had lost you> Crichton breathed.

<How could I leave you? How could I love you less?>

He could not speak, his thoughts all a tangle of emotions set free. Birds flying home after a long hard winter. His hands blessing the form that cradled his so gently. He ached for him, wanted completion. Wanted to be absorbed so completely into the other that they became one.

<You would lose your identity> Whispered Stark with such love, such wisdom that it made Crichton want to cry. The joy he roused in him was so exquisite.

<I would be with you. It is all I want. All I desire. More than I deserve>

<Sssssh, don't think like that>

Stark kissed him again, much longer this time, his lips intoxicating Crichton. His touch reducing him to a faint joyful heartbeat that fluttered in the other man's breast. <I love you so much>

<I know>

<Stark?>

They were so closely coupled now that not even surgery could part them. <Mmmm?>

<Don't ever leave me again>

The penetration was so sweet it was almost like dying. Stark's energy filled him, the warmth firing his seed as he came in a beautiful rush of heat that consumed them both and fed them with deepening desire.

<How could I ever leave you?>

Crichton's heart missed a beat, fluttered with hope and paused with the temerity of expectation. Hardly daring to utter his wish, his heart's longing, for fear of shattering the vision that bound him in thrall. He wanted this man more than anything he had ever wanted in his life before. More even than life itself. <Don't tease me, Stark, it's cruel>

Stark kissed him gently. Drew delicious light ribbons of sensation over his face. Breathed his scent into the human so that he trembled with desire for him, not needing to rest after their merging. Wanting more, diving deeper into the soul that nourished him. The love that fulfilled him so that he could endure anything. Anything but parting. He had no notion of how long they made love. The endless interplay of souls merging was something that felt so right. The love of angels could not be more beautiful, more perfect, more blessed. Crichton did not know whether a microt had passed. An arn, a solar day, a weeken, a monen, a cycle. Had eternity been born, died and born again while they lay within the circle of each others' arms and danced in the light of a million suns across a sea of stars that spanned every conceivable reality? Or had madness finally found its' perfect mate in him? He did not know, did not care, just so long as it did not end.

<Is this really what you want, John?>

Crichton nodded, the remnant of his body cried *yes*. The depths of his heart echoed that certainty with a passion that left him weak. His desire was so strong. His need so intense. His love so all consuming.

<If we do this> Stark said gently, his mind brushing Crichton's, his love gently washing the walls of his heart and lapping at him with soft little pulses of warming desire <there will be no going back>

<I don't want to go back>

He felt sadness tinge Stark's heart, dim the radiant glow of love that bound them and felt his own heart falter. Distressed because Stark was sad. <What's the matter, Stark?>

<Aeryn>

He smiled even though a twinge of pain pierced his heart. For Aeryn would always be his Achilles Heel. Present or absent it was a fact. A given. And there was not a damn thing he could do about it. <I know but the feelings I have for Aeryn will always be frustrated. It's not her fault Stark, it's her nature>

He felt his partner nod, a sad aquiessence that was more his sorrow and compassion for Aeryn than any thought that he might lose Crichton. Stark knew Crichton's heart and soul better than anyone. Better than his mom and dad ever had, better than DK, and better that Aeryn ever would. Sure, he loved Aeryn. Always had. Always would. But Stark he *adored*. Simple as that.

<I want to take you somewhere>

Crichton smiled, kissed him with his smile, loved him with his whole heart. <Where?>

<A place you know. A place you will love>

The sensation of speed was something else. Used to 'G' forces and the pull of gravity, Crichton was unprepared for the sheer exhileration of speed without drag. Everything flew by him. Stars, planets, entire solar systems. <Where the hell are you taking me?>

Stark's smile widened. Crichton took advantage and began to make love to him while the solar winds mingled with their sighs. He touched every part of him with hands that quested, exploring, titilating, stroking, caressing. His every thought was in that touch, loving him so gently but thoroughly. Loving how Stark trembled as his probing fingers became more invasive, his lips
caressing and kissing, licking and washing a swathe of little bites and kisses over his face, down his neck then back up to his ear. The hot wet tongue washing down his ear canal as his hands slid down to hold and caress him. Stark arched his back, tried to keep his mind on what he was doing, where he was going. Crichton did not mind, he loved it when Stark was trying to concentrate on something. It left him free to seduce him, to fill him with needs and desires that matched his own rising passion. They were flying through the air at incredible speeds but the real rush was the air exchanged between them as they kissed, the touch of hands lighter than a heartbeat, the marriage of mind body and soul as the heat roared through their spines and snapped as they came together in an explosion of passion.

Stark cried out, swamped and excited and sated all in one. Crichton was trembling as he held on to him, his hips rocking hard and increasingly eratic. His arms holding his lover so close that their sweat oiled the action as he rode his shaft deep into his partner to deliver his passion,
shuddering as he started to come. His hand slid round Stark's waist, working him into an equal fervor so that both men could join in the rush of heat that made them spasm in delicious unison as each climaxed. Stark felt Crichton relax slightly against him as his hips continued to buck and pump into him in diminishing arcs of passion. He sighed, his flight arrested by Crichton's desire to take him. He turned in his lover's arms and kissed him, all thought of their destination forgotten. Time passed but the suns of other worlds did not grow cold around them. The stars still shone to light them home.

<Where are we going?> Crichton asked between kisses.

Stark smiled gently and increased their speed. <You'll see>

They reached the starfield soon after. The bright megallanic cloud of coloured light brought fresh tears to Crichton's eyes. Even if he had not heard the beautiful resonance of a million voices singing he would have known where this was. Who these voices belonged to. It was Stark's
people. The bright vibrating cloud encompassed millions of Banik souls, all merging and
dividing to remerge. Their voices now breaking off to visit him. Warm touches in his mind as they greeted him. A laugh touched his heart with a lightness that was familiar.

<Lenith?>

A delighted sparkle of light loved him back. <You remember?>

He smiled and she sailed the curve of his lips with newfound joy. <How could I forget?>

Stark was happy. Deleriously so. His people loved Crichton and he loved them. He realised a microt before it occured to Crichton. It was going to be alright. Finally they could be together. In a place where eternity was remade and fashioned in every beat of their hearts. Where wishing really could make it so.

<Merry Christmas, John> Breathed Stark.

The love touched Crichton so deep. Others gathered like moths to a flame, drawn by the depth of love joining these two people in a union they longed to bless. To cherish. <Merry Christmas, Stark>

* * * * *

Aeryn and the others searched everywhere for Crichton but they could not find him. Aeryn checked the docking bay but the Farscape 1 module still sat where he had left it. Nothing was gone or missing. Only Crichton. Aeryn had Pilot check Moya's records for the last time he had been on the ship. Asked him to look for anything unusual. He found it but it was a fleeting thing. A sudden but gentle rise of heat then an intense light flared in Crichtons' quarters. Not a presence exactly. Pilot could not describe it and Moya did not know what it was. But when the heat and light had gone so had Crichton. At last the others broke up, they still had work to do and the sleep cycle was over. Each was stunned in their own way but they also felt strangely at peace.

She went to the one place that was more theirs than anyone's. The Terrace. Aeryn looked out at the limitless stars spanning the darkness of space. Oddly enough it calmed her. Made peace with her soul, stilling the frantic beat of her anxious heart. Soothing her and diminishing the heartache of losing him. As a solitary tear rolled slowly down her cheek in farewell she failed to notice that there were two new stars in the heavens.


********** T H E E N D **********