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It was a guy thing.  Aeryn was away for a few days, which meant wandering around in his shorts,
scratching portions of his body that always resulted in a glower from Aeryn, leaving dirty dishes
and clothes laying everywhere, turning into a complete slob.  

Crichton yawned, stretched, lobbed an empty drink container into the corner and rolled over for
another nap.  A noise from the door jerked him awake in a hurry.  Aeryn was there, D’Argo
propped on her hip, glaring at John.

“Aeryn!  You’re … back early … honey,” he stammered out.

“Daddy in trouble?” D’Argo asked.

John winced.  “Big trouble.”


                                                        
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