Room 238, Sunday evening

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Aeryn spent her weekend in jail after shooting someone who deserved it, worrying about a possibly-suicidal boyfriend, also worrying that she had no way to contact anyone to check up on said boyfriend, and worrying that she or John might actually have had to go back with Scorpius because she has no idea how bad Peacekeeper Command never wants to hear the name John Crichton again. In short, the weekend's kind of sucked.

After being released by (and threatening) Braca, Aeryn heads back to the dorms, and up to 238. She's looking forward to spending some time in a place without bars.

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"You didn't go insane," Aeryn tells him quickly. "I've never seen you act insane. At least, no more so than normal."

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"I got lucky then," he says, spiking his hair into a mohawk.

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Maybe he did. She makes a little face at his hair, trying not to smile.

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"What?" He does a little pose. "My hair's getting long again."

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"I noticed," she says, reaching up to try to flatten it a little, for no reason.

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"Hey hey," he says, batting her hands away. "My hair."

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"What if I don't like it like that?" she asks, getting the shampoo for herself.

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"Then it'll be gone when I wash the shampoo outta my hair," he tells her. "Patience."

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She makes a face at him and starts washing her own hair.

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He makes a face back at her.

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"Very mature," she says, taking a while to scrub her hair because she hasn't been able to do so since Friday.

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"Shut up, jailbird," he taunts easily.

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"I've heard worse," she says, shrugging.

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"You didn't drop any soap while you were in there, did you?"

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She frowns. "What?"

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"Nothing," he says. He's so not explaining that to her. He just mohawks his hair some more.

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She gives him a weird look and goes to rinse her hair out before he can.

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He takes some soap from his hair and strokes it down her back.

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She turns to look at him, asking, "What are you doing?"

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"Touching you," he says, writing his name, a heart, and her name in the soap on her back.

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She lets him, finishing washing out her hair and totally not smiling, really.

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He brushes off some soap and leans closer to kiss one shoulder.

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"Having fun?" she asks quietly, turning to look at him.

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"Just reassuring myself," he says, looking up at her, smiling.

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"Of what?" she asks.