An Atlantis Christmas Carol3

John smiled. It sent a shiver through Moira. Although pinning her to the bed, although angry with her she knew he would never hurt her. Still, the smile was chilling. The way his head tilted slightly. His eyes briefly slitting, then becoming normal again. The sheer strength in his arms as he held her down. "Oh yes, I can, Moira. You are going no where." He moved off her, a fluid, graceful movement. Was on his feet, staring down at her. "It's all right, Ems. Daddy's coming. Don't you fucking move, baby. Like I won't know where you are or what you are going to do? I can find you whenever I want."

Moira cursed, sat as he moved to the nursery. Hating him. Herself. The baby. She felt a wave of tears. Feeling trapped. "I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this," she muttered.

"Tough. You've got this, so deal," John said, entering the room. He was holding the baby. The infant was calmer but still pouting. Big blue eyes full of tears.

Moira refused to look at them. Loving the man but not the child he held. The child he had given her. Deliberately given her while mutating. He couldn't be blamed, not entirely. He hadn't been quite himself, reacting to the wrong treatments which were making him into a curious hybridization of human and Wraith and progenitor. She still had the occasional nightmare.

"Moira, sweetheart, it's all right. You know that. It's nothing we can't handle. So far every test has come back clear."

"So far," she muttered. Not convinced. Would never be convinced.

"Yes, so far," he agreed. "Look, I know. I mean I read about this stuff. Postpartum depression stuff and all that. Just relax, Moira. Things will get better."

She turned to him, glaring. "Is that what you think this is? Postpartum depression? It's not! It's not! It's...it's her!" She pointed at the baby. The infant gurgled, blinking.

"Moy, look, I know neither of us had planned on another child so soon but she's here now so we have to–"

"You! You planned! Not me! Not me!" She stood. "I've got work to do! Actual science! Not some more damned child-bearing! I hate you!" She stormed out of the room. The baby began to cry, heart-rending sobs.

"Shit. Ssh, ssh, Ems, she didn't mean that," John soothed, kissing the infant. At a loss as to what to do, what to say. He knew Moira loved him. Loved their sons. Even loved the baby if she would only allow herself. He sighed. "Women," he muttered.

Moira sat in the biology lab. Displaying different pictures on the computer. Seamus sat in her lap, all smiles. He grinned, pointing. "Mastodon!"

Moira smiled, kissed him. "Yes, honey! That's right. And this one?"

"Mammut!"

"Mammoth, yes. And because of the long hair what kind?"

"Wooly mammoth! Like Mr. Wooly!"

"Yes," she praised. "Like your toy Mr. Wooly. The long fur coat helps them survive in the Ice Ages. A very, very cold, long winter. And this?"

Seamus chewed his lower lip a moment, staring. "An in...an indocthingy?"

She gently laughed, kissed the child. "Indocotherium, yes. The largest land mammal to have ever lived. And you will see them, Seamus! You will see all of them and even more when we go to Pleistocene Park."

"Really, mommy?" the little boy asked, gazing up at her.

"Yes, honey. And you can help me catalog them."

"No, he won't."

"Daddy! Daddy, look! Daddy, look at mammut!" Seamus sprang from his mother's lap to run to his father. John smiled down at him. Hoisted the child up into his arms.

"Hey, buddy! Whatcha doin'?"

"Workin' with mommy!"

"Ah."

Moira turned, smiling at her son's enthusiasm, John's teasing tone. Their silly game. But she frowned. John was carrying Seamus to her. As he pushed the stroller as well. The baby was within it, making gurgling sounds as she stared round.

John saw his wife's expression change. "Moira," he said sternly.

She turned away from him. "What do you want? To stop me from teaching my own son now?"

"Our son, and no. I want you to get a grip. Look after Ems. Here you go, sport."

Seamus was set down. He moved to his mother, climbed into her lap. "Mommy?"

"It's all right, honey. I won't let daddy turn you into a soldier like he is trying to do with Johnny. No, you can be a scientist."

"I'll teach him the same things I am teaching Johnny. What they both need to know in order to survive out here," John countered. "It's not all right, Moira. Not by a long shot." The baby began to fuss. Little arms in the air. "Moira."

"I'm busy here with Seamus. You take care of her."

"She's hungry."

"Now, Seamus, what is this one?" Moira asked, ignoring John. Ignoring the infant as she began to cry. Soft stuttering sounds that would only increase in volume.

"Moira! Damn it!" John took Seamus from her.

"No! John, give me my son!"

"Our son, and not until you take care of our daughter! Ours, Moy! Never mind how or when she was conceived, she's here now and fully human!"

"Daddy? Daddy, why shout? Mommy! Mommy!"

"Easy, son. Let's go. Mommy needs to feed Ems."

"John! John!" Moira called, but John was carrying the little boy out of the lab. "John!" The baby started to wail. Moira cursed. Stood. "Fine! Fucking soldier!" she muttered, knowing he would easily hear her although far from her now. She grabbed the stroller. Wheeled it back to her rooms. Scarcely looking at the red-faced, unhappy infant bawling inside of it.

The baby was fed. Napping. Moira stared down at her. Warmly despite herself. The little girl was in a pink sleeper decorated with purple and green kittens. Dark hair a tangle of curls. Little hands curled into fists. A fighter. Stubborn, just like her brothers. Just like her father. Moira sighed. She did love the baby, just not as she loved her sons. She knew John was right. Emily was fully human. So far. In fact she didn't even have the ATA gene. Not even one, let alone two like her brothers. Moira puzzled over that. She sighed again. Reached down to brush a stray curl off the baby's rosy cheek. Her little mouth was moving in a sucking motion.

She turned suddenly. John was in the doorway, watching her. Concern on his handsome face. Assessing. Pensive. She shrugged. Looked back at the crib. The infant. "Sorry," she whispered. The word catching in her throat as a wave of emotion came and went.

John stepped to her. Stood next to her. Eyes on his infant daughter now. "It's all right, Moy. It will be all right, I promise you. We've been through a lot, I know. First me and my, um, my mutations and evolution. Then you and the pregnancy. The early birth. I know. Things will settle down once we get Ems on a routine. Like we did with Johnny and then Seamus." He touched his wife's back. "You can talk to me, Moira." She was silent. "That's why I insisted on the holiday. On Christmas this year. To bring us all together. As a family. To bring the city together too. After what I did when I wasn't myself." He wouldn't say it aloud. The murder of Katie Brown. Couldn't.

"I see," she finally said.

"Do you?" He slid his arm round her waist. Kissed her cheek. "Moira, it's important to me. For us. For our little circle here. It's still perfect. Our little circle. Bigger now, but still perfect. Still ours."

"I just...you...John? I...you...so much has happened. The boys were, were finally getting old enough now, you know? And then you, you saddle me with another baby!"

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry. But we'll manage, okay? You will have plenty of help here. You need only ask," he gently chastised.

She sighed. The one person who would have been the most help was gone. Killed. Murdered by the man beside her. She bit her lower lip. Turned to him. Hugged him. "John."

He kissed her brow. Held her close. He could feel the well of grief engulfing her. Unsaid. Grief for Katie. Although she never blamed him. Never accused him. Had in fact saved him from a complete transformation into a monster. He stroked Moira's back, watching his infant daughter. A child unplanned. But not unwanted. Not really. Moira was more worried than anything else. But he wasn't worried. Not at all.

She pulled back from him. Eyes wet. "John? Shouldn't you be working?"

"Yeah. But this is more important, Moy." He ran a finger along her cheek. Caught a stray tear. Lost himself in her deep brown eyes. "I hate seeing you like this. It kills me to be the cause of it all. My Moira."

"No, not you, the–"

"Me, I know. Don't you think I know? Everyone dances around what I did. What you did. But especially what I did. Even me, actually. And then this...Ems...ironic, isn't it?"

"What is?" she asked, losing herself in his brilliant green eyes. Pensive expression. Caught by his sheer beauty. His warmth.

"That she was born here. The only one of ours to be born here. In Atlantis. And she doesn't even have the ATA gene."

"Oh. Yes, I guess."

"Or the piggyback gene, or any of my other mutations or weird, um, stuff."

"So far," she whispered.

"So far," he agreed. "And she won't. Nothing like that touches my little girl. Nothing."

She smiled at his determination. Touched his chest, charmed by his utter gravity. "I see. With you as her father no boy will touch her either."

"Damn right they won't," he agreed, but he smiled. "No one is good enough for my little princess. Hell, no one in the galaxy is good enough. Hell, no one in either galaxy is good enough for my Miss Kitty there."

"Oh please!" She pushed at him playfully, rolling her eyes.

He laughed. "What? It's true."

"I forget how overzealously protective you can be, colonel. Poor Emily," she sighed. "She doesn't stand a chance, does she?"

"Not one," he agreed. "And neither does any boy coming in six yards of her. I'm almost as overzealously protective as I am over you, baby. You and that pert little ass."

"Shut up," she scolded. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Do I?" he asked, tilting his head, flirting. He smiled. "Yeah, I do. With that pert little ass."

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room! Incoming IDC request!" announced a man over the PA.

"Crap," John muttered. He kissed Moira. "Are we okay, baby?"

"Yes, sweetie, go."

"All right. I'll have to work on that pert little ass later, then. Damn it."

"Will you just go?" she laughed, pushing at him.

"Going." He kissed her again. "Moira."

Moira smiled, watching him leave. "Finest six in the galaxy, colonel!"

"Damn right it is, baby!" he called over his shoulder.

Moira laughed. Felt calmer. More like herself. But the baby started to fuss. Moira sighed, turned to the crib. "Crap," she muttered.

John sprinted to the control room. Slowing to normal speed as he neared people. He still had to be careful. Was walking a fine line here and he knew it. "Status?" he barked, striding to the consoles.

"Unknown IDC, sir. It's ours, but scrambled."

"Then unscramble it, lieutenant!" John eyed the shimmering wormhole. The shield was in place. Iris closed, blocking all ingress. He waited. Scowled. Folded his arms across his chest. McKay would have done it before John had made the request. Even Zelenka would have done it by now. He stared at the hapless lieutenant. The younger man was nervous. Feeling his commanding officer's glare. "Well?" John snapped. "Now would be nice. Before lunch would be even better!"

"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir! Here it is, sir! It's..." His voice broke off in astonishment.

"What is it? Are you going to make me guess?" John snapped.

"No, sir! It's...it's...yours." The man turned in his chair, incredulous expression on his face. "Sir...it's you!"