SUMMARY: It's that time of year again. Yup, it's Valentine's Day, so in the spirit of things, here's a fic in honour of the occasion! John attempts to teach Moya's crew all about Valentine's Day, with interesting results. (I apologise for the title… just consider that it was better than the original, "V-Day Fic"…)

RATING: Let's go PG-13 to be safe. (There's… silly semi-slash at the end. Don't panic. It's just a joke by request of a very strange friend… barely slash at all, in fact…)

SPOILERS/SETTING: Absolutely no spoilers (well, maybe a few for early episodes, but nothing major) and absolutely no setting either. Completely AU. Everyone is alive who was dead, and on Moya who is not. The cast for this includes: John, Aeryn, D'Argo, Rygel, Pilot, Chiana, Zhaan (yay!), Stark (yay again!), Crais (double yay!), Jool, and, of course, Harvey. I guess the characterisation varies between Seasons 1 to 3. Season 2 John and Aeryn, Season 1 Zhaan and D'Argo, Season anything Chiana, Season 3 Harvey, Crais, Jool and Stark… you get the idea.

DISCLAIMER: Come on DK, I'm only having a little fun. Lemme play with 'em? Please? (Uh, yeah, they're not mine…)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I decided to do this then promptly forgot about it, should be doing my Farscape Horror Show fic, and realised I now have 10 days to do this one… Shippiness and silliness galore!! Look! NO ANGST!!! (Shipping wise, this has everything you can possibly think of - John/Aeryn, Chiana/D'Argo, Jool/Crais (tee hee), Zhaan/Stark, Pilot/Moya, Rygel/Rygel and possibly some surprises along the way!) Plus, it's a John-finally-tells-her fic!

As far as the AU situation goes, ignore all discrepancies and take everything as normal, or this'll make no sense. It's a game of let's pretend, a simple fantasy, and Lord knows we need something after all the damn angst of Season 3...


My Funny Valentine

© T'eyla Minh 2002

CHAPTER ONE - Karaoke Clone

John Crichton lay back on his bunk and clicked off the tape recorder, before hurling it haphazardly onto a pile of clothes in the corner of the room. He sighed heavily, frustrated and bored. Nothing had happened for almost two weekens, not even any random aliens wanting to fight, eat, or generally dismember them. He'd give anything just to have Scorpius on his tail. Even Harvey was being unusually quiet.

That didn't last long. If John got bored, Harvey got bored. Harvey, however, had discovered ways to pass the time. Lately, he'd acquired several irritating tendencies, including singing off-pitch, tapping his feet in irregular rhythms (which, even though John couldn't actually feel them, were incredibly annoying), reciting the alphabet backwards (continually incorrectly, causing him to have to start over), or just muttering incoherently. Today, apparently, he'd chosen to blast out an awful rendition of "I Will Always Love You", in true, off-key, karaoke style.

John endured the verse, barely. When the neural clone hit the chorus, and missed by an agonising semi-tone, it was the last straw. He rolled over and promptly smacked his head into the pillow.


The voice stopped, and John imagined himself face to face with him, in yet another surrounding dragged from his subconscious; this time, it was a grubby nightclub. John mentally plucked Harvey away from the microphone and dragged him behind a tacky spangled curtain.

"My song, John!" he protested.

"Your song, my ass, Harv! It's Whitney or nobody!"

The hybrid pouted. "I've got to pass the time somehow. Do you have any idea how tedious it gets in here?"

"If you don't like it, move out."

"You and I both know that's impossible. Still, I wish you'd exercise your mind more often." He sighed and brushed out the crease John had created in his tuxedo. "You used to at least think of Earth. All you ever think about now is Officer Sun."

John went a deep crimson and was tempted to deny it, then realised how futile it was. "So what?"

"It's boring…" He emphasised the last word, making it sound like the most heinous crime known to man.

"Those are my thoughts. Mine. Not yours." He looked annoyed. "And anyway, if you don't like 'em, don't listen in."

"It's rather difficult. You don't know how loudly you think."

"And you don't know how annoying you are," he retorted. "Now shut. The frell. Up!"

With that, John returned his consciousness to his quarters. For now, at least, Harvey had quietened again. It only lasted approximately three microts, and then the voice rang in his head again. "John…" He ignored him. "You can't pretend I'm not here. I have something to tell you."

John sighed again, and muttered, "What are you, the damn Phantom of the Opera inside my mind?" He thought himself back to Harvey and the nightclub. "Yes?"

"Do you know what the date is, in your time?"

"No frelling clue."

"It's February 6th."


"What's in eight days?"

John thought for a microt. "February 14th." Harvey waited for the light to dawn. "Valentine's Day…" As expected, the immediate image to fill his brain was Aeryn, and a goofy grin crossed his face. "Harvey, you're a genius!" He planted a wet, sloppy kiss on the clone's head, and thought himself back to reality again. To himself, he repeated, "Valentine's Day…"