Aeryn awoke to an empty bed, searching desperately around her for John.  But he was nowhere to be found.  It wasn't that she needed him at the very moment ... just that she was so used to waking up in his arms.  As she continued pondering his whereabouts, she thought she heard groaing and then moaning and then the oddest sound she had ever heard.

"John?" Aeryn called out, climbing out of bed.

"One second," came the reply, muffled by the cleansing chamber door.

She wrapped the bedsheet around her body.  "Are you alright in there?"

"I'm ... ::groan:: ... fine."  The door opened and he appeared in the space.

Aeryn thought he looked positively awful.  His hair was raggedy, his face was twisted, and his boxers and t-shirt looked as if they had just been thrown on.  Then she caught wind of something else, wafting out of the cleansing chamber along with John.  She immediately wrinkled her nose at the foul scent and then pulled the sheet up over her nose and mouth to stop the stench from filling her nostrils.

"Ugh!  What is that awful smell?"

John continued walking toward her.  She backed up a little, undetected, and thought about running.  The smell was following him to where she was standing.

"Whatever Rygel put in his food last night didn't agree with me."  John grunted.  "Delicacy my ass."

Then there was another wheezing sound, this one not quite as loud as the first she had heard.

"So, what's wrong?"  Her voice had a muffled and almost nasal tone as she spoke.

"I've got gas like you wouldn't believe."

Staring past John into the open door of the cleansing chamber she thought about how badly she had to go ... and how badly she didn't want to have to go in there.  But Aeryn suddenly became distracted when John picked her up and then plopped her back down on the bed, positioning himself over her so she had no route of escape.

"John ... I ..." she began, trying not to inhale.  In the midst of being tackled her protection had fallen away and her nose was now left exposed to the stench.

"Aw come on, " he nuzzled at her neck, "I promise this won't take too long."  There was more wheezing noises and then the sound of a wet bubble popping.

(SIDE NOTE:  I have no clue as to how to describe a fart.  Suggestions and help is greatly appreciated.  I'm clutching at air here and doing my best.)

"Um ... " Aeryn spied a DRD in outside the room in the hallway.  "Look at that.  I'm late for duty shift and Pilot's already had to send a DRD to come get me."

John turned his head and saw the DRD and then reluctantly let her go.  She scrambled off the bed as fast as she could, dressing almost twice as fast, and then disappearing from the room.  But before John could put more thought into it, the second part of his problem called again.  He hurried to the cleansing chamber and shut the door tightly.

As John headed down the hall he noticed there weren't any DRDs around.  *Oh come on ... they're mechanical.  They can't have a sense of smell.*  He paused to release more gas, filling the corridor with more wheezing noises, and then went on.

"Hey, Pilot," he tapped his comm.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Where are all the DRDs?" John asked.  There was silence for a few moments that turned into a long pause.  "Pilot?  You with me?"

"I um ... don't know how to put this Commander.  But the gases that your body is emitting is causing the DRDs to malfunction and a few of them to rust.  One is disintegrating even."  Pilot took a moment.  "Perhaps you should go talk with Zhaan, she may --"

"Pilot it's just a little gas.  It'll be gone by the end of the day."

"Yes, Commander."  Pilot paused again.  "Is there anything else you need?"

"No Pilot, that's it."

Pilot signed off and John continued down the hall.  *I'm scaring off even the DRDs.  That's got to be bad.*  He grunted as another round of farts left him and then he felt Moya shudder several seconds later.  *And Moya can't take it either.  Damn.*

Disclaimer: Farscape is owned by Jim Henson ... Hey, there's news ... NOT! ... anyway, I don't own this wonderful sci-fi show and I don't own any of the magnificent characters on it (though I wish I did) and I swear on Farscape and all that's holy (which is Farscape) that I don't plan on making any money off of this or it.

Rating: PG-13
Archiving:  Go right ahead, yesiree ... all I ask is that you give me credit.
Feedback:  Please R/R ... and to give me further feedback email me at aerynsun01@yahoo.com
Spoilers: Nada ... nopers
Timeline: Before third season I'd say.

Summary: Rygel prepares dinner and John eats like a starving man.  The only problem is ... well, I'll let you figure it out.  I promise tons of laughs and tons of fun and tons of flatulence.

Author's Note:  This is merely a side project to help keep my sanity as I work my way through For Everything There Is A Season .  Don't worry, you'll all have plenty of my other story as well as plenty of this.  It only means that I'll be working harder to bring you great stuff.  And I can do that.  But I have to get this story out of my head and onto the screen of my computer.  And I wanted to get it up before my idea was stolen.  You never know who could be overhearing my conversations with myself.

Credit Where Credit's Due:  TOMMY -- you know who you are.  You hate Farscape, you hate science fiction and all you ever do is watch the news and listen to Bluegrass.  But you make fun of my most favorite TV show by calling it "Fartscape" and that was enough to spawn this hopefull mediocre fic.  THANK YOU SO MUCH!