Parallel Evolution

Beige.

John Sheppard's gaze was honed in on the color. He flew the Jumper smoothly over the mainland. Briefly checking the HUD he lowered the vehicle. Cloaked the ship. Invisible now in stealth mode he flew across the rolling plains. Over the tops of the trees, nearly skimming the leafy boughs. Brushing leaves that whirled in his wake. Lower still as he reached a clearing. Slowed. Smiled. Gaze focused on his beige target now. He zoomed in on the rounded features.

Moira O'Meara was crouching in the grass, staring intently at something too small for him to see. Not that he was looking anywhere else but at her khaki pants. As she leaned, hunched over her knees. Green t-shirt riding up a little to give him a glimpse of skin. Her long brown ponytail stirred by a gentle breeze. A backpack blocked his view momentarily as she straightened.

Grinning he tapped his earpiece. "Moira," he said. Drawing out her name in a seductive breath.

Moira was intent on the rabbit. Filming while simultaneously making notes on her laptop. John's husky voice whispered in her ear. She started, dropped the equipment. Nearly fell onto her face. She looked round as the rabbit hopped into the undergrowth. Gone. She heard his laughter tickling her ear. She scowled. "John! Damn it!" She tapped the earpiece. "Where are you, colonel?"

"Enjoying the sight of your pert little ass in those snug, snug khakis, baby," he teased. "On your six, Moira. Your pert little six."

She whirled. Saw no one. Shading her eyes she scanned the distant trees. "Where are you?" she repeated. "I don't see you, sweetie," she rejoined with a smile. "John?"

"Up," he replied.

"Up?" she repeated, confused.

"Look up, baby. I'm right on your six." He uncloaked the ship. Saw her mouth open in surprise. She stumbled backwards. He laughed. Waved at her through the viewport.

Moira laughed. Waved. "Clever, sweetie." She gathered her dropped equipment. Stuffed the pieces into her backpack as he smoothly landed the vehicle. She walked round to the hatch and waited. Shaking her head.

John opened the hatch, stepped out to her. His boots clomped noisily on the ramp. "Hi."

Moira smiled. Stared at his handsome face. Black t-shirt molded to his form. The gray pants as well. "Hi yourself, flyboy." She hugged him, kissed him. Unable to resist the mirth sparkling in his brilliant green eyes. The smile on his full, perfect lips. "Hmm, about time you got back."

"I know," he agreed, kissing her but she pulled free of his arms. Stepped off the ramp. "Hey!"

"I've got work to do, John. I'm tracking another anomaly. Another lagomorph exhibiting unusual dental evolutionary–"

"Vampire rabbit, so I heard," John interrupted. "Lorne told me."

"Oh. Yes. Well, one is an anomaly. Two could be a genetic fluke or a subspecies. Or an example of parallel evolution. An independent development of similar shapes or behavior in closely related organisms in response to similar environmental pressures. If there is a breeding population exhibiting these same characteristics it could mean–"

"Whoa, doctor," John held up a hand, forestalling a lecture, "you can do that later."

"No, John. This is my job. Believe it or not this is what I've been trained to do. So go fly your ship back to Atlantis and I'll see you there." She made to leave when he caught her arm, pulled her onto the ramp. Into the Jumper.

"You'll see me now, Moira," he corrected.

She laughed, relented. "Fine. You can fly me to the other side of this ridge. There's a population of ow!" She stumbled over a cooler. Stared. Stared at the wicker basket next to it. Dropped her backpack to the floor as he closed the hatch. "John?" She peeked into the cooler. Saw beer. Pink lemonade.

"Sit. Strap in," he commented. Moved past her to seat himself in the pilot's chair. He powered the ship with a touch. Hands flowing over the controls as the vehicle started to rise. "Moira?"

She slid into the co-pilot's seat, glancing back at the provisions. "What's going on, John?"

"What does it look like, Moira?" he teased.

She eyed him. Pointed out the viewport. "Just over there, John. By those trees. John, you missed it! Wait, wait! Are we going back to Atlantis?" she asked as he flew steadily over the mainland. Past the ridge. Past the trees. Towards the ocean.

"No. We're not going back to Atlantis."

"John, is something wrong?"

"No."

"No?" She leaned to lift the wicker basket's cover. Saw an assortment of food. She closed it. Sat back in the chair. "Lunch? A picnic? You?"

He laughed. "Wow...nothing gets by that scientific mind, does it, Moira?"

She hit his arm. "Hilarious, John! Now I am worried. What is wrong, sweetie? This isn't you. You're the sex guy, not the hearts and flowers guy. John...are you breaking up with me?"

He sighed as the vehicle headed out over the water. Atlantis was in the distance. A glimmer of light and metal dancing on the roiling blue waters. "No, Moira. You see why I don't indulge in these romantic gestures? You always assume the worst. You wanted a date, right? So, here we are. On a date."

"Oh." She glanced at the basket, the cooler. At him as he easily flew the ship. Hands skimming the controls. Expression caught between exasperation and amusement. "Sorry, John. It's just not like you...to do this...kind of thing. Where are we going?"

"Shielding. Here we go." The vehicle hummed as the shield enveloped it in a hazy shimmer. Hit the water. Slowly submerged. Deep. Deeper. Blue waters teemed with sunlight streaking through the waves. Fish swam in erratic alarm at the sudden intrusion. John shone the lights over the fish, the plankton, the increasingly darker waters.

"John...where are we going?" Moira asked, uneasy as they sank lower. Lower.

"I'm abducting you, Doctor O'Meara. No more interruptions. And there's no need to be discreet down here."

"Oh. So you're not breaking up with me?"

"No. Just enjoy the ride, sweetheart. Now. And later." He glanced at her, winked.

She smiled, touched his arm. "Sorry, Colonel Sheppard."

He shook his head. "Hold on. I need to re-set the inertial dampeners, then we'll land."

"Land? In the water? On the bottom?"

"Yeah, we can't land on the top, now can we?" he quipped. The ship bumped, bumped. Then settled on the ocean floor. Sand drifted in pale brown waves. John slipped out of the seat and moved to the back of the ship. Moira stood, staring out of the viewport. Ribbons of water waved around them. Fish darted. An eel slithered. "Moira, here."

She turned. He had opened a console, was pushing buttons. Set his watch. Then checked the console again. Opened the hatch. "John!" she exclaimed, expecting a rush of cold water to drown them. The pressure to squeeze them. He laughed. A shimmering field extended.

"Shield, Moira. We are going to be the first to have a picnic on the ocean floor. Go on."

Moira hesitated, then stepped past him. Into the ocean. Cautiously stepped on what looked like the sandy bottom but was in actuality the shield beneath her feet. A clear screen encapsulated a few feet, like a tunnel. The ocean was all around them. The waters undulated gently. She walked, gingerly touched the shield. It felt cold. "John! It's...it's amazing! I can almost feel the sand under my shoes! Look! The fish! Look, John! A basilosaurus cetoides! A primitive whale! Look! That resembles a plesiosaur! Look!"

John smiled at her enthusiastic, joyous expression. He sat comfortably. Opened the hamper and the cooler. "Let's eat. I'm starving!"

She moved to him, sat close. Kissed him. "John! This is beautiful! Fantastic!" She eyed him. "Are you sure you're not breaking up with me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Moira! Eat." He handed her a pink lemonade. Opened a beer and took a long sip. "Ah!"

She sorted through the food in the basket. Filled plates with hot dogs. Potato salad. "Perfect, John! Just perfect."

"Nearly so," he agreed with a smile.

They ate. Moira's eyes were darting all over the ocean around them. Pointing out different fish and other creatures to John. He watched her, watched the ocean's inhabitants swim by in schools or alone. Neon fish flickered like tiny rainbows. A turtle bumped into the shield, causing them to laugh at its shocked expression.

Moira sipped her lemonade, set it aside. Stood to move down the tunnel. "How far does this go?"

John checked his watch, finished his beer. Carelessly dumped the remains of their meal into the basket. "Only a yard or so. We don't need that much room. The energy requirements should hold for at least an hour."

She turned to him. Saw his suggestive, wandering gaze. "John? John..." She put her hands on her hips. "Here?"

He laughed at her disbelief. "Yes, Moira. Here. Didn't you just say I am the sex guy?" He moved to her, slid his arms around her. Drawing her close. "Just think of it, sweetheart. We will be the first two people to ever have sex on the ocean floor!"

"I should have known, John Sheppard, this wasn't romantic at all! It was something kinky!"

He laughed. Pulled her against him. Hands sliding up her back, under her shirt. Fingered the bra. Kissed her. Fingers tugging the fabric. He pulled back a little. "What the..."

She laughed, kissed him. "Front closure, silly. Are you sure you're the sex guy?"

He smiled. "Oh. Oh yes, baby, I am." He guided her down onto the ground. Onto her back, kissing her. He pushed up her shirt and undid the bra to free her breasts.

"John...oh John....that feels weird."

"Huh?" His hands cupped, caressed. Teased. Callused fingertips rough. Sensual. "This?" His mouth followed. Kissing, teasing. Tongue circling until her nipples hardened. Mouth gently pulling, sucking.

She gasped, arched, shifted as her body reacted. Her fingers tangling in his hair. "No...no...the ground. Feels weird. Not you...not that...not uncomfortable. Just weird...like a waterbed." The words came stiffly as she tried to talk, to think under his ministrations. A flash of light caught her attention above them. Colored lights streaming in the water. "Did you–"

His mouth slid down to the scar on her side. "Really? That's interesting. And kinky."

She laughed, murmured as his mouth moved down to her pants. His fingers deftly unbuttoned. Unzipped. Pulled. Pulled the pants, the panties down. "John, wait." But the lights were gone. Distracted she dismissed them.

They rolled. She was on top of him, squirming. Pulling her pants and panties awkwardly off one leg. "See? Weird."

He ran his hand on the ground. "Yeah...that is weird. Different." He moaned as she squirmed against him, rubbing his arousal. "Baby, let's make some waves." He laughed.

She frowned. "God I hate that...sweetie." She kissed him. Moved his shirt up to run her mouth along his waist. Unbuttoned his pants. Unzipped. Undid his belt. Yanked open his pants. He groaned in anticipation as she fingered his boxer shorts. Smirked at the colorful blue and yellow pattern. Opened them a little.

"Moira...oh...keep going, please..." Becoming hard under her seductions he shifted. Fingers tangling in her hair now, pulling it free of the ponytail. He watched her bend down to kiss his waist. Lower. Lower. Her bare rear lifting as she moved lower. Ran hot kisses up the glimpse of bare skin as his erection jerked, jutted. He groaned again. "Yes, baby! Moira, do it...do me like that, baby, all the fucking way..." The feel of her tongue on his naked skin was almost unbearable. Arousing.

She slid up his body as he struggled to be free of his clothing. She kissed his mouth, his throat. Circled his ear to make him groan. "Oh John," she cooed breathlessly, "I almost went down on you but you had to call me that name. Sorry, sweetie." She laughed as she rolled off him and he scowled.

"Hilarious, Moira!" He moved onto her. Kissed her, kiss after kiss, his mouth taking full possession of hers. All teasing aside as he opened her lips to his. As his tongue darted. As his hands shoved her thighs apart. Fingers sliding up to probe, to stroke until she whimpered. Flooded at his touch. "That's it, baby...as wet as the ocean, but so hot..." he said, voice thrumming along her throat as he kissed her skin.

"John, John, really, you don't have to..." She moaned loudly as he entered her. Found her tight but ready. Began to move in a delicious motion. Taking another possession now.

"I hope we don't dislodge the shield, Moira," he teased, kissing her. Thrusting quicker. He slid his hands down her hips. "Wider, baby," he instructed.

She obliged, but colored. Eyed the ocean around them as she caught John's arms. He was moving faster, rocking her in a weird undulation against the shield. "John...the fish. The fish are watching."

"So? Let them see how mammals do it. Maybe they'll evolve," he suggested. He laughed.

"Hilarious, John. Fish can't evolve into..." The rest was lost in a rising gasp of moans and whimpers. His continued momentum propelling them. Moira started to come as he moved faster, faster. As her vocalizations came faster, faster. Her body writhed, arched as the spiraling pleasure bloomed, bloomed and then burst into an orgasm. Another. "Oh John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried in a sexual litany.

"Moira, my Moira!" he moaned, moving faster still, deeper until he reached his own destination. "Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he groaned as the tension strained, shuddered, and then was spent in one final, deep thrust. He rested on her. Kissed her mouth, her throat. "Ah...baby...now that was a fucking tidal wave."

She smiled, stroked his hair, his back. Legs closing slightly. "Yes, John. I'm sure a wave just hit Atlantis."

He laughed. "Damn right it did." He kissed her again, checked his watch. "We better get dressed." He rolled off her, fixed his clothing. Moira sat and fixed hers. Restoring her underwear and pants. Stared as a light flashed above them. Like the ones she had seen earlier. Bursts of color.

"John, did you see that?"

"See what?" He was watching her fix her clothes. Run her hands over herself to make sure her underwear was in place. He licked his lips.

"The light. Above us and to the left."

He looked, but his watch beeped. "Time to go, Moira. Now!" He grabbed the basket, the cooler. Tossed them into the Jumper. "Moira!"

She was staring at the water, at yet another flash of colored light that seemed closer to the ship, to the shield. Unusual colors underwater. She noticed the shield was shrinking. Withdrawing back towards the ship. "Oh oh. John..."

He grabbed her hand, pulled her into a run. They rushed into the Jumper as the water crashed after them. Pressure pushing them like a physical force. John slammed the hatch shut as the ship shuddered. Then was still.

"John? Are we–"

"No. Just the extension." He met her alarmed gaze. "That was close, Moira. Next time we'll skip the lunch and just have sex."

"Hilarious, John," she scolded. But slid her arms up his chest, around his neck. Kissed him. "Hmm...John...oh John..."

He returned her kisses, moving her against the wall. ""Just a sec, sweetheart." He opened the panel. Checked to be sure all systems were secure. Moira kissed along his throat, caressed his chest. Slid her hands under the t-shirt to feel bare skin, chest hair. The dog tags. Cool metal. "Am I in the way, sweetie? Should I go lower?" she teased. Slipping down.

He smiled. "Be my guest, baby. All the way down, if you know what I mean. And stop calling me sweetie." He closed the panel. "We're fine. All systems a go."

She laughed. Hand caressing along the length of him. "Yes, sir. I can see that." She stood as he laughed. Kissed him again. "That was wonderful, John!"

"Well, yeah. I am the sex guy," he boasted.

"No! Well, yes, that too, but I meant the picnic. Here. Wonderful!" she gushed. Teased, "Even, dare I say it, romantic?"

"Don't say it," he chastised. "You've had your date, now, Moira, so hush. I guess we should go back to Atlantis. Hmm...yours? Or mine? Yours," he decided. "You have the better bed."

"A secret date?" she asked, frowning as he moved to the front of the ship.

"A discreet date. Don't start that again, Moira." He powered up the Jumper. "Here we go."

She sighed. Moved to sit next to him as he raised the ship. Up through the waters. Up towards the surface. "I don't see what the problem is, sweetie. Seriously! It's not like I'm going to run up and down the hallways shouting how I love John Sheppard, or announce over the intercom that John Sheppard is in my bed."

"I'd rather you didn't do those things," he laconically noted.

"I'm serious, damn it!" she fumed. Hit his arm. "Why is it so difficult to talk to you? I can talk to Evan. I can talk to Carson. But you...you...you're like a tidal wave! Sometimes I get pulled into the current and the ride is extraordinary, marvelous! Literally takes my breath away! But other times I smash into it and there's nothing I can do but stop sinking before I drown. This whole discretion thing you insist upon is–"

"Moira! What the hell do you want me to do? Run up and down the hallways shouting that I love Moira O'Meara? I won't. Announce over the intercom that I am in Moira O'Meara's comfortable bed? I won't. I'm not that guy, baby, and don't pretend you didn't know otherwise. I'm not the hearts and flowers guy, okay? Unless...unless we are completely alone. Just you. Me. Then...then I can try...to be that guy...for you. The talking stuff and other...romantic crap...like this date, like other..." He sighed. Glanced at her. She was staring at him. "Wow...have I rendered Moira O'Meara speechless? That would be a first."

"John...you really feel that strongly? I, I mean...I..." she stammered, uncertain. Looked out the viewport as the ship broke the surface of the water. Stared. "Um, John...wasn't it daylight when we went down?"