Room 209, Wednesday night

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After last night, Aeryn hasn't really felt like being around people. Okay, maybe she'd needed a little breakdown. That wasn't the way she would have preferred to have done it. She'd rather forget it happened, but that won't be happening anytime soon.

There's something on the wall opposite her bed now, even if she does keep looking up at it while struggling through makeup work, wondering if she should be homesick or not.

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"Like Rory's drawing of me when she was three?" she asks, She might even be teasing a little. She's really not sure. Not that Rory's drawing, along with the polar bear ones, have made it out of her bag yet.

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"Something like that," John says, looking around for a pen. "You can request something and I'll draw it for you. Anything you want. Okay?"

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"Surprise me," she tells him.

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"Okay." John picks up one of the pens on her desk and starts doodling in an empty notebook. Finishing up, he hands the picture over to her. "Ta-da!"

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Aeryn doesn't even really get it, but she's covering her mouth and definitely not laughing really anyway.

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"See, she's a pirate," John points out. "That's her hook for a hand, her peg leg, her eye patch and her parrot named Bob."

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"Your arguments against insanity will really never work again," she says, shaking her head.

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"I'm just a little insane," he says, gesturing with his fingers the amount of his insanity. "Just a smidge. And only on days that end in 'y.'"

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Aeryn reaches out her hand to widen the distance between his two fingers.

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John looks at his fingers. "That's still not that insane. You can obviously deal with the insanity."

John then mocks grabbing a microphone and puts it in front of Aeryn. Not too close because he doesn't wanna make her close up. "Tell me, Aeryn Sun, after all this time, how are you able to deal with John Crichton's obvious mental instabilities?"

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Aeryn stares at his hand and looks really confused. Needless to say, she's completely on board with this 'John is mentally unstable' thing.

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"My hand's a microphone," he says, pointing to his clenched fist. "You talk into about me. Tell the microphone about my mental capabilities. You can do it."

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"I am not talking to your hand about you," she tells him, leaning away from his hand a little like he's going to do something.

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John lets out a soft laugh and musses his hair. "Want me to dance?"

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Aeryn almost laughs, and then remembers something about Valentine's Day plans. The smile doesn't disappear, but it does fade a little. "That's okay, you don't have to," she says, gently, because she doesn't want to say that out loud.

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"Hmm." He bends a little to catch her eyes. "Wanna dance with me?"

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She blinks, and doesn't know how to answer that. "There's no music," she says.

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"I'll sing," he says, laughing. "Or I'll hum. Or we can pretend. No music needed for dancing."

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"I thought it was a necessary part," she protests.

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"It's optional," he says, reaching out for one of her hands. "We can just pretend."

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She thinks about telling him no, but not for long. She lets him take her hand, and puts one hand on his waist like he showed her.

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"There we go," he says, stepping closer and putting his own hand on her waist. "Ready?" He smiles at her and starts to slowly move them in slow, small circles.

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Aeryn goes along with it, trying not to think too hard about the first time they did this. Though she will admit she didn't know how to do this then, either. Mostly she's just trying not to step on his toes.

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"Relax," he says quietly, rubbing her back gently. "We're just dancing."

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"I know," she says just as quietly, but she isn't sure what else she's supposed to be doing, whether she's even supposed to be trying to look at him or if that's too much. Especially as that's her default reaction.