Mutagenesis
Violet.
The color was rich. A deep purple, with echoes of blue creating a vibrant patina. But it wasn't only the color that drew John Sheppard's avid gaze. It was the way the fabric hugged his wife's rear, stretching tightly and outlining every rounded curve as she leaned over in the back of the car. John adjusted his sunglasses. Adjusted the rearview mirror to smile, watching his wife lean over even more to secure their son in the car seat. "You know, baby, if that skirt was two inches shorter I'd be a very happy man."
"Shut up, sweetie," Moira Sheppard reproved mildly. "You would have to rent some stupid sportscar!" she complained. "Johnny's car seat barely fits! Here we go, darling." She kissed the gurgling infant, making certain he was strapped in securely, that the car seat was strapped on the seat safely.
"Maybe three inches," John mused, gaze still glued to her rear, "but damn that skirt hugs your pert little ass. Hey, you're not commando, are you?"
"Shut up, John." He laughed at her exasperation. She sighed. "Johnny, do not take after your father."
"Gaga goo!" the baby chortled. She smiled, kissed the baby.
"Dada, and hell yes, son, take after me in every way." John wolf-whistled as she deliberately wiggled her rear at him before getting out of the back seat. "Fuck...we may have to stop to have sex, Moira," he informed as she slipped into the passenger seat next to him. Half teasing, half sincere as his gaze roved.
"Enough, colonel. Keep it in your pants." She turned to view their son. "Okay, darling?"
"Ga mama!"
"Good. Let's go, John." She met his gaze but his eyes were on the generous view of her thigh as the skirt rode up. "Damn it!" He laughed as she pulled it down, adjusting the material, squirming on the seat. "I'm out of practice wearing girl clothes."
"Why are you so dressed up anyway?" he asked, starting the car. He glanced back at their son. "Hold on, junior!" He revved the engine. "Sweet! We'll be there in twenty, baby!" He spun round the parking lot, sped out of it. A passing marine leapt out of the way. The baby clapped in delight.
"Gaga goo! Gaga goo!" the infant exclaimed.
"John! Slow down!" Moira warned but John pushed the car to ninety. Tires squealing down the road. He left a trail of dust in his wake.
"Damn she's fine! Can you persuade Caldwell to fly this back for me, Moy? Like that, junior?"
"GA!" the baby exclaimed, clapping.
John slowed, then shot onto the highway. "Here we go! Don't you worry, sweetheart. I know we've got precious cargo."
"Good to know, John." She relaxed a little as he slowed in the traffic. She glanced back at the prattling baby. "Don't encourage him, darling."
"Mama goo!"
She smiled. "Yes, darling." She turned back to her husband. "It's like having two boys sometimes," she teased.
"Hilarious, Moira. You never answered my question." John changed lanes, sped along past the slower cars. Finding it odd to be driving an ordinary vehicle instead of an Ancient Jumper that would respond to his thoughts as well as to his hands. He glanced back to see his son clapping happily, staring out the window. He glanced at Moira who was scowling. He grinned as he eyed the road.
"We don't have to break a speed record, John," she warned.
"Okay, Moira." He slowed some, still grinning. "So? The fancy duds? Is there something I should know about this professor guy?"
"No. It's just nice to dress like a girl. Once in awhile."
"Ah. Yeah. I concur. As long as you undress like one too. Slowly." He glanced at her. The violet blouse and matching skirt were flattering. Hugging her curves. He saw the tanzanite ring on her finger. The one he had given her for their first anniversary.
Moira turned back to see the baby staring out the window, grinning. Holding onto his car seat. "He's going to be as bad as you are. I can tell." She sighed, turned back. Gaze lingering on John's simple denim jacket over a faded green t-shirt. Jeans. She looked back at the baby in his navy sailor suit. But the infant stubbornly pulled off the matching hat. She shook her head, turned back towards the front. "Do you hate hats as much as your son?"
John glanced at the rearview mirror to see his son sucking on the hat. Smiled. "Yeah. I guess. Messes up my hair."
She laughed. "How can you tell?"
He mock glared at her. "Hilarious, Moira. I'll spank that pert little ass for that."
She leaned close, kissed his cheek. "Sorry, John. But seriously...how can you tell?"
He smirked. "For that you will be sorry, baby. That pert little ass is going to be all rosy when I finish with it. Ah. Our turn-off."
"Oh no," she muttered, even as revved the engine again.
John sped into the other lane, up the ramp. Slowed, following the curving road as it took them off the highway. Slowed further as he entered normal traffic. The baby fussed. "Sorry, junior. We have to behave now. How far to the museum, Moira?"
"Take that next exit, there. It's only about a mile or so." She stared out the window. At the passing buildings. The pine trees lining the sidewalks. The blue, blue sky. Her stomach twisting as they drove down familiar roads.
Moira sighed. Looked over her shoulder as she tried to unbuckle the baby from his car seat. The baby was fussing, little hands on his mother's as if to stop him. "John! Make yourself useful! Get the stroller, would you? Stop staring at my ass!"
John grinned, watching her in the rear view mirror as they were stationary in the parking lot. "Pert little ass," he corrected, sighed. Got out of the car, pocketing the keys. He moved to the trunk. Began to wrestle the stroller out of it.
Moira freed the baby and carried him out of the car. Closed the door. Grabbed her purse from the front seat. She moved to watch John as he fought. Swore. Leaned to pry the stroller out of the tight compartment. She smirked, enjoying the view as his jacket and shirt rode up, giving her a flash of bare skin. The jeans were tight on his firm rear. "Serves you right, sweetie. Renting a sports car!"
"Hilarious, Moira! There!" He yanked it free, set in on the ground. Slammed the trunk shut and unfolded the stroller. Locked the car with a push of a button.
Moira squatted to set the baby into the stroller. Strapped him in securely. "There, darling." She kissed him. The baby prattled, staring round. Wide blue eyes taking in the great expanse of the outdoors. The cars. The blue sky. The asphalt under him, something he had never seen in Atlantis. Moira stood, slinging the purse over one shoulder. Adjusted the diaper bag on the back of the stroller. She turned to shield her eyes with her hand. Staring at the building. Doors of glass reflecting the sunlight back to her. The baby reached up, caught hold of her skirt. Tugged.
"Mama? Mama, mama!"
Moira ignored him. Lost in a flood of memories. The past crashing on her, good and bad. Forgetting for a moment about her son, her husband, her life in Atlantis. The mission.
John touched her arm, a gentle pressure of his fingers. "Moira?"
She met his gaze, startled. Looked from John to her son. Back again. "John? I...I'm fine." She freed her skirt from her son's little hands. "I'm fine, darling. It's all right." Yet she stood, unmoving. Frozen in place.
John touched the small of her back. "You don't have to do this, Moy. I can go in by myself. Don't you worry, sweetheart. You can stay here with junior."
"No. I...I can do this, John," she assured. Voice soft.
John gently turned her face to his. Kissed her. His lips soft, moving in a loving motion along hers. Teasingly opening her mouth, his tongue shyly darting until he pulled back from her. His brilliant green eyes catching her, mesmerizing her. "Take point. I've got your six."
She smiled. "I bet you do, colonel."
He smiled. "You better believe it, baby. I will have that six in more ways than you can imagine. Now move that pert little ass, would you?"
She headed for the doors. John followed, pushing the stroller. The baby prattled quietly. Little hands on the front bar of the stroller. Gaze taking in everything, amazed at all the new sights and sounds.
Moira steeled herself. Shutting it all down, blocking all the horror, the pain. The guilt. Locking down the darkness deep inside her. Focusing on the mission. On her son. On John now pushing the stroller beside her, ever alert, ever aware of her moods, her needs. Or at least trying to be. She walked, heels clattering on the tiled floors, trying not to be distracted by the exhibits. She stared at the skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus rex as John bought admission tickets. Pretending to be just another family on an outing to a museum. Charming the woman effortlessly as she took his money, handed him the tickets.
She led them into the museum. Pausing as she debated which way to go to find her quarry. The baby was staring round, big blue eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. John was staring round as well, noting the displays, the different attractions. Tried to imagine his wife working here. Amid the dry, dusty specimens and the heavy silences. Amid the fossils and bones instead of the living specimens in the Pegasus galaxy.
"There."
Her voice jolted him and he looked over as she started to head down a hallway, past a display of American Indian artifacts. John followed, pushing the stroller. Gaze appreciating the snug fit of the violet skirt, the slight sway of her hips as she increased her stride. Her long brown hair a swirling cascade down her back.
Moira caught sight of an older man. Salt and pepper hair, beard. Tattered suit and the inevitable bow tie. Mischief sparkling in his gaze as he amused a group of children before they broke into laughter, then moved away from him. She hastened towards him. "Professor! Professor McKenzie!" she called as he almost disappeared round a corner.
The older man turned, eyed her as she reached him. He smiled in surprise, in genuine welcome. "Moira! I don't believe it! Moira O'Meara herself it is!" he exclaimed, affecting an Irish brogue. He engulfed her in a hug. "My dear! My dear, dear Moira! How are you?"
Moira smiled, returned the hug. Stepped back to smile. "Professor! It's so good to see you!"
John had reached them. Gaze assessing the older man. The greeting. He coughed and nudged her with his elbow. Moira glanced at him. He raised a brow, reproving expression on his handsome face as the baby prattled happily.
"Oh! Sorry, honey!" She smiled at the professor who was staring at John now. "It's Moira Sheppard now." She held up her left hand to display her wedding ring.
"Oh? Oh! How delightful!" Jared's gaze flicked to her, returned to John. Looked him up and down. "And this must be Mr. Sheppard?"
"My husband John Shep–"
"Colonel John Sheppard," John corrected, although he knew about the professor's dislike of the military. "USAF." The men briefly shook hands. "And this is our son," he emphasized the possessive pronoun, as if there would be any question. "John junior."
"I see. Wonderful!" Jared glanced at the baby who grinned, prattled loudly. Jared raised his eyes to John again, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He looked at Moira.
"I'm afraid we don't have time for pleasantries, professor," she stated. "I need your help." She glanced at John. Waited.
John nodded, catching her look, her meaning. "Remember, Moira. Non-disclosure. I'll go take our son to see the dinosaurs." He eyed the professor again. Wheeled the baby away from them.
"I must say, Moira, well done! Wow! I mean...wow!"
She grinned. "Thank you. I have no idea how I did it." They shared a laugh.
John felt eyes on his back, on his rear. He smirked, turning, expecting to see his wife ogling him. But instead he saw the professor staring. Puzzled and disconcerted he looked back at his son, wheeling him round the various displays.
"Professor, I need your expertise on this. Professor. Professor!"
"What?" Jared's gaze was lingering on John. "I have to say, Moira...is his–"
"Yes, as gorgeous as the rest of him," she indulged, realizing his question. "Hands off, professor. He's mine." They laughed again.
Jared sighed. Met her gaze. "Why are all the gorgeous ones either straight or married?" he lamented.
She smiled. Glanced at John. He was staring at them, quizzical look on his face. He tapped his watch, then resumed his attention on his son. "Shall we? I need you to look at something."
"I'd rather look at that gorgeous man...but all right. Sorry, it's not every day a man that beautiful walks into the museum."
"Tell me about it," she commiserated. They laughed as they entered his office.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but how and where did you land him?" he asked, sitting at his desk. He pushed aside a mess of papers, books, and a prehistoric bear skull.
She smiled. "Believe me, it wasn't easy! Actually we, um, we work together. Here." She sat across from him. Opened her purse. "I have a sample, here. Several, actually. And the data we have procured doesn't make any sense. Several discrepancies in the genetic code that has stumped our experts. At first we thought it was four different species but it is only from one, um, creature. One organism. It reminded me of your work, but I wasn't sure...so..." She handed him the case, opened it. Handed him a data pad and activated it.
Jared took both, eyed the scrolling information. Eyed the samples. All labeled neatly. "I...I don't quite understand, Moira. What animal is this?"
"Professor...you better hold on tight. I'm about to rock your world."