"This is all your fault, Crichton!" Aeryn snarled after she had smashed the last blonde's face in the dust. "This is the third frelling one!"

John had to admit that Aeryn had had a little more trouble with this one- she should have been named Brunnhilda, and was the spitting image of a valkyrie. Both taller and more muscular than Aeryn, she had been a formidable opponent. Had been that is. Now she was an unconscious one. It's a good thing these battles weren’t to the death, he mused.

"It's not my fault, Aeryn. I didn’t do anything to lead her on, I swear."

"Oh, it's never your fault, is it?" she said as he led her into a nearby tavern. "Didn’t you smile at the first one?

"The hotel clerk? I was just trying to get us a better room," John said, guiltily. He was wondering why he had ever thought that this planet was a good place for the two of them to spend some time alone together. A little R&R, just the two of them-God knows they needed,it, and the place was peaceful, anti-Peacekeeper, off the beaten path and fond of tourists. Unfortunately it also had some rather strange and archaic social customs and seemed to be entirely composed of blondes- ranging from honey to platinum, with eyes of blue, green, gold and pink. All of the women built like Xena and the males looking like the average Joe-or maybe less than average. Aeryn said they looked like techs.

"And you had to compliment that woman on her dress," Aeryn accused.

"I honestly thought that it would look nice on you-I just wanted to find out where she got it." It had been a very pretty dark blue, close to the color of Aeryn's eyes. "And I didn’t do a thing this time-you know it. You heard her say it was the big smile on your face when you came to breakfast this morning."

"Yeah, well, who put it there?" Aeryn said, sitting heavily in a chair at the bar.

John tried his best to be soothing. "Moya will be back in a weeken, Aeryn. Maybe we can stay out of trouble until then. We could camp out in the wilderness or something..."

“ÒOW!” Aeryn complained when he put his arm around her, more to make him feel guilty than because she couldn’t help it. John tsked when he saw the nasty cut and abrasion on her arm, and talked the bartender out of a first aid kit. He cleaned the wound and wrapped it, giving her a kiss on the forehead when he was done that she made clear she barely tolerated.

When he left to get rid of the bloody towels and give the first aid kit back, an older woman with silver braids in a coronet around her head that matched her silver eyes approached Aeryn.

“I hope you donÕt think I’m interfering,” she started. “You look like you can handle yourself, but I was just wondering-“

“Oh, no,” groaned Aeryn. “Not another one. I swear, the next one that asks can just have him. I’m frelling tired.”

The woman laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant. I was just wondering, if you don’t like the Challenges, why do you let him wander around unmarked?”

“Unmarked?” Aeryn asked. What was the woman suggesting, that she beat him or something?

“Well, yes, you know, like my T’omas-we had our Claiming Ceremony twenty cycles ago, and I’ve never regretted it.” She called T’omas over to him-he was dignified, and attractive, although not a large man. The woman pulled the sleeve of his long pullover up-Aeryn could see that he had dark lines, almost black, running from his fingertips up. There were hints of designs peeking out from under the neckline of his shirt as well.

“What is that, a tattoo?” John asked, from behind Aeryn.

“No, It’s not permanent-it has to be replenished regularly. It’s just paint-non toxic and edible. But no one will bother you if your male is taken permanently. It’s our custom.”

“So what does this claiming ceremony consist of?”

“It’s not difficult-you buy the paint-you two should get a good supply, I think, and then make the arrangements. You are expected to provide the food and drink for the village. It’s fun.”

“It sounds like it would cost quite a bit,” Aeryn said.

“Better than you having to beat up people all the time,” the woman said.

It was an attractive idea. Aeryn would never admit it, but she was worried that she might actually lose sometime. Of course, John insisted that it didn’t matter who won him, she was the only one for him, but still.

Aeryn bit her lip and nodded. “Do you mind if I claim you?” she asked John.

“Anytime,” he smiled down on her.

The shop that sold the body paint took swabs from both their tongues. Probably DNA samples, John thought, to test for compatibility, like a blood test. They rented the ceremony grounds-a large area with a bonfire, it turned out, and paid for the ceremonial clothes. John was alarmed when he found out what his consisted of-it was little more than a g-string. Aeryn just snickered and told them he needed a slightly larger size. Her outfit was equally odd-a lovely silky gown and boots heavier than the ones she usually wore.

“I wonder how far out this ceremony is?” John said doubtfully.

Later that same evening they stood in front of the campfire in front of the entire town and made their vows-simple ones, of love and fidelity.

“Now, he mounts you,” the officiator of the ceremony said.

“WHAT!?”

“You have to carry him from the campfire to the middle of the ring” she explained, “across the rock. If you can’t carry him that far, you can’t keep him. It commemorates the first female of our tribe, who carried the first male to safety over the hot lava when the volcano erupted.”

John gingerly tried to climb on Aeryn’s back, as indicated.

“That’s never going to work, John. Your legs are too long.” She picked up an arm and a leg and carried him in the fireman’s carry, over the sharp volcanic rock, to the safety of the circle, being very careful not to falter-she was sure that his mostly naked body would be badly cut if she did. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when she set him down.

“Well, now I know why the women are so big and the men are so small,” John whispered when Aeryn set him down. “I’m not very artistic,” she said as she scooped up a glob of paint on her finger. She started tracing patterns over his chest and up and down his arms, making it up as she went along.

“Don’t I get to paint you?” John asked.

“No,” Aeryn said. “I asked-the woman was scandalized, and then she said, maybe in the privacy of your own home.”

Aeryn was enjoying herself. She traced all the outlines of his body, accentuating his muscles and circling erogenous zones. She added a few words in Sebacean-not that there were endearments in her native language, but she translated some concepts. She left his face clear, except for a sun on the middle of his forehead. John seemed to be in a trance while this was going on- closing his eyes and pretending the whole town wasn’t watching. When she thought she was finished, he grabbed her fingers and put them in his mouth..”Mmm..” he said. “It tastes like chocolate.”

The crowd cheered-this seemed to be the end of the ceremony. Even though it was a silly event, Aeryn found herself unexpectedly moved. “I love you, John Crichton.”

“I love you,” he said, and kissed her, attempting to take her in his arms.

“No,” she said. “We have to wait for the paint to dry.”

“I should be dry by the time we get to our room,” John said, throwing on the boots that were waiting in the ring for him. They both ran, hand in hand, giggling.

The rest of the time passed pleasantly, John and Aeryn enjoying their ‘honeymoon’ in the fashion expected of newly claims. The only problem came shortly before the arrival of the transport pod, when John tried his best to get the paint off.

“I don't understand it, we’ve had to retrace parts of the designs several times already, I thought they were washing off in the shower. I can’t go the rest of my life with ‘Property of Aeryn Sun’ on my backside.”

“Sounds good to me.” Aeryn dead panned.

“Yeah, well, think of how the guys are going to tease me in the locker room.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Aeryn said, “they still taste good. I mean, you would think it would get stale or something.”

“Taste?” John said, looking up from where he was scrubbing his arm raw with a washrag. “Could you ‘taste’ this for me?”

Puzzled, Aeryn leaned over and licked his arm. The ‘paint’ dissolved immediately.

“Ha!” John said, “I bet those are tuned to your saliva, so no one else can get it off.”

John showed up at the transport pod entirely free of chocolate tasting body paint. They said nothing to anyone of their adventures on he planet, until Chiana happened to be in a position later on that day to get a good look, quite accidentally, at Aeryn’s cleavage. She stared.

“What?” Aeryn said.

“Why do you have that funny human writing on your boobs?”

Aeryn stared down her own front. That hadn’t been there before.... the large J and C on either side.