Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard poked his head into the firing range. "Hey, uh, Lorne?" He said awkwardly. "Can you come over here?"
Lorne looked up from cleaning a P-90, curious, "Yes, sir. What do you need, sir?" Sheppard scratched the back of his head. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just, uh," he looked around, and seeing no one, he continued, "Did you get a sort of, uh, rash type thing at P3X-227?" He lifted his shirt up to show his XO the red-ish purple discoloration on his stomach.
Lorne's eyebrows shot up, "Oh, from the –"
"Yeah," John nodded.
"Where we were –"
"Yeah." They both blushed.
"So, uh," Lorne started, "No more sex off-world?"
"No."
