Violets in Vegas: Sunday Morning Coming Down

I remember exactly what I had been doing the day the world ended. Every detail, every sensation was implanted on my mind with laser focus. Of course I didn't know it was end of the world at the time. No one did. It had just been a typical lazy Sunday morning. Nothing out of the ordinary. A typical sunny day, already hot in the early hours.

Sunlight had been streaming through the lilac curtains, spreading cross the lilac sheets where Moira and I were entangled. I had been working my way down her body. A slow seduction, savoring every taste, every smell, every soft sound issuing from Moira's lips. I had just kissed my way beyond her belly button, was heading towards much more promising territory when the bed started to shake…

6:00am

Moira O'Meara felt the bed move. At first she took no notice of this as John Sheppard was sliding along her body, trailing hot kisses along her skin as his fingers slid into very intimate areas. Nibbling on her nipple before sliding his tongue down her breast. The stubble on his face rough and erotic, evoking shivers of sensual surrender. But when the bed shook again, as did the entire house and John wasn't the cause of it as he hadn't gotten to even preliminary penetration yet she knew something was amiss. "John? John! Did you feel that?"

John lifted his head from her pelvis. "Yeah, the earth moved, baby, and I haven't even fucked you properly yet," he drawled, handsome face full of passion. A lop-sided smile curved his lips and his voice was deep, gruff. He lowered his head to continue, body tense with need, with hunger. A rumbling shook the bed. Made the windows shake. The odd clatter of glass in the frames alarming. John slid up, over her as everything violently shook. As if a giant hand had grabbed the house and was jostling it like a toy. "Earthquake?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the sudden cacophony.

"How observant of you, detective," Moira noted, causing a scowl to appear on his handsome face. "We don't get earthquakes in Nevada." Nevertheless she hung onto him as the bed was slightly sliding on the floor.

"Apparently we do now, doctor." John looked over as his phone buzzed on the bedside table. Books were swaying like drunken sailors, then falling one after the other in a domino effect. The lilac curtains were trembling, causing the sunlight to filter through them in broken waves, as if they were under the ocean. Then all was still. John waited to be sure. A bird began to sing. John rolled off Moira to grab his phone.

Moira scooted up as well. She grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Reports were coming in on every channel, showing the city shaking, people running in the streets, but there was only minor damage and no serious injuries. "John, look! It was an earthquake, but not a large one. The epicenter must be miles away since we're not on a fault line here or even near one. It must have been pretty strong for us to feel it here, though. John? John?"

John was silent. Staring at his phone. Sunlight bounced off the screen and he angled it to see the terse text message flashing there. The letter all in capitals, in bold relief against the pale ground.

TODD ESCAPED

Moira had to smile despite the severity of the situation. Despite the calamity unfolding she couldn't help but smile. John had been sprawled on her bed, still naked, on the phone giving orders. Calling Evan and Carson to meet at the facility, calling Rodney to confirm the text but he was unavailable so he was forced to talk to Richard. Calling the precinct and making sure that cops were out in the city securing it from looters as Hendricks was unavailable. He reminded Moira of a colonel rallying the troops, his voice curt, crisp and allowing no one to even reply or question. All the while the sunlight playing over the contours of his broad shoulders, his broad back, narrow hips, long legs and that firm, firm ass.

John had seen her smirking at him. Out of the corner of his eye he had caught the amusement sparkling in her brown eyes. Also the brazen stare along his body. Her long brown hair was a tangled mess around her naked body as she sat, watching him. He had tossed the phone aside with a grunt, grabbed her and produced to finish what had been interrupted. After some very quick but very satisfying sex they quickly showered, got dressed and were on their way to the facility. There was more than one way to make the bed shake, after all.

At least John didn't have to go across town to get his things or his clothes. Little by little he had been moving in with her, although if asked he would vehemently deny it. As he began to stay over almost every night Moira quietly made room for him. She had cleared half of the bathroom counter for him. She had emptied a few dresser drawers and had left them open for him to see. She had cleared part of her closet and had left the door open for him to see the waiting space. All the while not saying a word, not speaking about moving in at all, as if afraid to spook him. It was like taming a wild animal, so she was cautious, careful, and didn't bring up the subject at all.

John knew what he was doing, of course. He knew he was gradually moving in with her. He just couldn't say it. As if afraid to acknowledge it, or to have her refuse him. But she had made room, given him space and more space and he gradually took it. It had nothing to do with feelings and more to do with practicality. Since he was sleeping over more and more he needed to have this stuff with him. An overnight bag. Then his clothes so he could get to work on time. Then his personal stuff so he could shower there as well, and numerous products because hair like his took time and a certain skill that couldn't be rushed.

More and more of his life filtered into her home, her bedroom, her life as well. But he still kept paying the rent on his apartment, although it was becoming emptier and emptier. He knew he was inching closer and closer to that most perilous of decisions. A proposal. But he wasn't sure how she would react, even how he would. Given their tragic pasts he wasn't sure if either of them was ready for that great leap forward yet. So he inched closer and closer, seeing how things progressed. His decision entirely rested on two things. Putting up his Johnny Cash poster and getting rid of all that lilac in their bedroom.

The radio was full of voices instead of music. All clamoring about the earthquake and the aftershocks and the residual damage and the threat of a violent storm heading down from the north. John switched off the radio. He glanced at Moira. She appeared thoughtful. Professional in her gray t-shirt and black jeans. The t-shirt had some kind of Celtic design in studded metal beads which drew his gaze to linger on her breasts. Her long hair was trapped in a ponytail. He smiled, recalling how swiftly she had gotten dressed. Recalling the glimpse he had gotten of a satin peach-colored bra and panties before she had covered herself. "Any ideas?"

Moira shrugged, breaking out of her reverie. She glanced at him. His burgundy shirt was open, giving her an enticing view of his chest. His black jacket and slacks were severe and only mildly rumpled. She glanced at his crotch, recalling the purple and white striped boxers he had donned. "None. You meant about Todd?"

"No. I meant about the new décor we need to get for the bedroom. Yes, I meant Todd!"

She smiled. "Funny. The lilac stays, detective. Where would he go?"

"It stays? That's unacceptable, Moira." He sighed, staring out the windshield again. He increased speed as they were free of the city. Miles of desert stretched before them. The sun was rising higher, higher now, a gold ball in the sky baking the land dry. Yellow shades dominated. The heat was a blanket, stifling the air, killing the small breeze as the car flew along the bumpy road. "We'll find out soon enough. They must have placed a tracking device on him, right? It's SOP for violent criminals."

"Maybe for you, detective, but not for a secret government agency. What if they never imagined he would escape? That their holding cell was secure?"

"Crap," John muttered, realizing she was probably right. "Moira, this could go south pretty damn fast."

"Meaning?" She looked at him. Admired his handsome profile as he stared ahead of them. Even though he had shaved the whisper of stubble promised to emerge later that same day. The strong lines of his jaw and chin luring the eyes to that perfect, perfect mouth. Lips composed in a line as his mind raced with possibilities. His green eyes on the road, brows furrowing in thought. His hands gripping the steering wheel as he guided the vehicle around the worst of the potholes. Long fingers flexing, relaxing, gripping the wheel firmly.

John met her gaze. Expression stern. "Meaning we may find ourselves in a whole new world in twenty-four hours unless we can catch this thing."