"Hey, how ya doin'?" D'Argo says he'll "recover," so gruffly that John laughs. "Yeah? When?" Don't poke the Luxan, dude. "Do you mock me?" D'Argo fronts, and John just sighs. "D'Argo, I mock all of us." John allows as how D'Argo's not the first person in all time that got "his head snapped off by a chick," and D'Argo grumps that he doesn't want to talk about it. "Fine. But I'm right." D'Argo, knowing what's next on John's agenda, because as usual it's all over his face, barks that his personal life is not for discussion. So John nods, like he agrees with that, and then asks if D's true crime would be considered part of his personal life. Um? D'Argo again says that they won't be talking about it, and turns to leave, then turns back. Because that moment, that deft handling of the X element, where the existence of the thing is more important than the actual thing, that moment when John looked him directly in the eyes and told him -- by bringing it up at all -- that it was okay, was the moment D'Argo could love him. "Crichton. I am normally unaffected by females during a crisis." John nods, and he continues. "It's just...it has been so long." It's not planets, it's people. "Now that, I understand," John says, and stares far away. "Man, do I understand it."
And then, we can only assume, he heads off to start a fight with Aeryn.