Artificial Selection3
John squatted near the stroller as it sat in the Jumper. His son was happily prattling, staring round with wide blue eyes. Suddenly the infant looked at his father. "Gaga gaga goo?"
John smiled. "Dada. Dada, junior. Get it right, okay?" He ruffled the baby's dark hair, causing a frown. John softly laughed. "Yeah, I'd hate that too, buddy." He looked over his shoulder. "Where's your mother? She's always late, you know that, captain? We'll have to discipline her later. Well, I will." He smiled. "Lavender lace." He moved to the open hatchway to see Moira walking towards it, hamper in both hands. "Moira!" he yelled, "move that lavender-clad pert little ass of yours!"
Moira ignored him, deliberately slowed her steps to make him scowl. She reached the hatch, stepped up the ramp. John took the hamper from her and set it near the seats. Moira moved to the baby as John closed the hatch. She squatted, saw the baby had on his little blue jacket. His hat was perched on his lap. She kissed him. "Are you all right, darling? Is daddy still pissy?"
"He's fine. Get that pert little ass into the–"
"Will you shut up about my ass?" she flared. Sat in the co-pilot's seat and pulled the stroller closer to her. "John, are you sure you want to–"
John slid into the pilot's seat. "This is Sheppard," he said, powering the ship. It rose slowly. Systems flared to life. The baby clapped, cooed. "Open the doors. Don't contact me unless it is dire! Got it?"
"Yes, sir! Opening doors!" came the voice of a nervous man.
"Sheppard out!" He flew the ship up, up, through the doors. He spun it round, flew across the city. The baby gurgled happily, clapping.
"Well, at least someone's happy," Moira dryly noted. "John, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"Not now, Moira. I just need to get away with you and junior. All right?"
"All right," she relented, worrying. She watched the ocean sparkling beneath them. Considered. Glancing at John to see him staring at the horizon, guiding the ship effortlessly. "Johnny's trying to do all sorts of things," she began, trying to relax her husband, to distract him from whatever was bothering him. "He's crawling all over the place now, well, trying to, but he's getting very good at it. He's even trying to climb out of the playpen! I fear he's going to be a climber, John. He'll be into everything. Is there any way to baby-proof all of Atlantis?"
"We'll find a way," he finally stated, easing the ship over the mainland now. He activated the HUD, looked for a suitable spot. The baby clapped, prattled loudly. "Like that, junior? Yeah, it is pretty cool, huh? What else, Moira? Ah...that will do nicely."
She considered. "Well, you've noticed his prattling. He does that more and more. Nearly all of the time, actually. Sometimes I think I hear actual words but he's too young yet. My brain is just trying to decipher his random sounds, although I do understand what some of his words mean for certain items. Mama, of course. And he calls you gaga. I was trying to teach him to say dada to surprise you. I would show him pictures of you and he did recognize you but for some reason it's easier for him to say gaga instead of dada. It's funny, don't you think? I know what you're thinking, John, that he gets his babbling from me," she accused, seeing the smile on his face.
"Did I say anything?" he retorted fondly, easing the ship down to a smooth landing in a clearing. The forest loomed, casting shadows across the ship.
"No, but I know you're thinking it," she continued. "Let me tell you, sweetie, he definitely gets his stubborn streak from you."
"Me?" he asked innocently, relaxing at last as Moira talked and the baby babbled. Clapped his hands as the ship hummed softly. John powered it down. "I'm not stubborn."
"Yeah, right," she snorted. Stood. Wheeled the stroller to the back with one hand, grabbing the hamper with the other.
John took the hamper from her, grabbed a blanket. He opened the hatch and stepped down the ramp. A warm breeze kissed his skin. He looked round the clearing as he stepped onto the soft grass. He moved to a sunny spot. Spread out the blanket and sat. Opened the hamper.
Moira joined him. Freed the baby from the stroller and set him between them. The infant had fallen silent, staring round. Mouth open. She smiled, kissed him. "It's all right, Johnny. It's just outside. You'll be safe. No, Johnny, keep your hat on." She replaced the tiny baseball cap onto his head. "There."
The baby patted the plaid blanket under him. Moira handed him his toy plane, eyes on him as he prattled softly, feeling the soft grass under the blanket and marveling.
"Moy."
She looked up to see John holding out a wrapped burger and a Coke. She took them. "Thanks." She began to eat.
John ate his. Drank some beer, glad she knew him so well. "Look, Moy. I'm sorry."
Moira sipped her Coke. "No, Johnny, leave your hat on." She put it back on his head. The baby prattled, grinned at his father. Crawled to touch John's leg.
John smiled. "I don't think he likes the hat, Moy."
Moira touched the baby's back as he pulled off the hat, gurgled at his father. "No, Johnny. Leave it on." She put it back onto his head.
"Let him be, Moira. He's shaded enough between us. Besides, it's messing up his hair." He set his beer aside, took the hat from his son. "Maybe this isn't his team," he jested. He met her gaze. Moira frowned, took the hat from him and put it back onto the baby's head. "Now who's being pissy?" he commented.
"Is it any wonder?" she snapped. Sighed. Scooted closer and kissed him suddenly. A long, welcoming motion of her lips on his. "John. What's wrong? It's the mission, isn't it?"
"Some," he admitted. He stretched out on his back, sighed. "Not yet, Moy. Okay? Just let me enjoy this."
"Okay, John." She scooted closer, reclined on her side towards him, propped up on her elbow. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Sweetie, relax. We're...no, Johnny." She looked down as the baby whimpered, touching her breasts. Little fingers pulling at the V-neck shirt.
John smirked, watching. "That's my boy."
"It's not funny, John! No, Johnny." She freed her shirt. "We don't do that anymore." The baby fussed.
"Oh come on, Moy. You can't conceal the girls from us." John reached over, pulled down the shirt. Slid his fingers into the bra.
"John!" She smacked his hand, sat. "No, it's not funny! Here, Johnny." She gave the infant a toy.
John snorted. Caressed his son's back. "It's all right, junior. I make the same sounds when she covers up those fucking beautiful tits."
"Shut up, John! You are a–"
He sat, kissed her. Cutting off whatever insult she had been planning. His hand slid into her shirt again to fondle, to tease the nipple into hardness. His mouth catching hers, tongue gliding until she murmured, reacting to his touch, his kiss, his desire as he moved her onto her back. Slid closer to her, closer. The baby giggled, caught between them.
"John, you–"
He kissed her again, gently squeezing her breast as his mouth moved along her throat. "Lavender lace, baby," he hotly intoned against her skin, but moved back as the baby prattled, grabbing onto his father's belt buckle. "Oh."
Moira smiled at his expression. "That's my boy. Get those pants off him, Johnny."
John smiled. "Don't tease me, Moira. Not about sex. Not now." He glanced round the clearing.
"John? Here? Now? Seriously? The baby–"
"Why not?" he countered. "The captain is certainly used to us doing it, Moy." He met her gaze. "No interruptions. I want that lavender lace tight and translucent, baby. Drenched as I suck it. All of it."
Moira shifted under his gaze, his low voice. "John, you–"
He scooted the baby over a little, moved over him to slide his body onto hers. He kissed her. "This what I've been...hey!" He looked over as the baby crawled to him, clasping his sleeve. Grinning.
"This won't work, John," Moira noted, kissing his throat as he watched his son gurgling.
"Fuck, er, fudge, Moy. I need a good fudge."
"Atlantis, sweetie. Bed."
He sighed, met her gaze. Moved off her to lay on his back. He caught his son, lifted him high. "There you go, captain!" The baby giggled, cooed, beaming as his father swung him slowly in the air. Up and down, back and forth. "Fly, captain, fly!"
Moira smiled, scooted close. Kissed John's throat. Touched his chest. "John."
He lowered the baby onto his waist, held him as he stared round. "Moira. What about Jumper sex, then?"
"Hilarious, John. No. Not with the baby here."
John set the baby between them. Sat. "I just..." He looked down as the baby touched the life signs detector. It flared. Revealing dots, motion.
"What is it?" Moira asked, seeing John's abrupt solemnity.
John eyed the screen, looked around the clearing. The trees surrounding them. "Three approaching."
"Three what?"
"Don't know. Keep him close." John touched his sidearm as he stood. Scanned the vegetation, every sense alert. Moira sat, gathered the baby to her arms. He fussed, squirming, wanting to explore. She kissed him, gaze locked on her husband. John gently took the device from his son, causing more fussing. "Huh. They're not there now. Maybe junior's reading farther than I thought. Still, let's go, Moy."
"Okay." She placed the baby into his stroller, strapping him in securely. John gathered the hamper, the blanket as she rolled the infant to the Jumper. John followed her, set the hamper and blanket aside. Shut the hatch. "It was probably nothing, John. Maybe some Athosian hunters."
"Maybe." He moved to the pilot seat as Moira sat next to him, pulling the stroller close. John powered the ship. The baby clapped, cooed. Prattled loudly as John raised it slowly off the ground. He activated the HUD, scanning. "Three life signs...wow. In the next grid! Damn! Junior's got a power surge all his own."
"So it was nothing," she remarked.
"Apparently. We could have had sex, baby."
"No, sweetie. Bed."
"Bed? I want you in those lavender lace undies and nothing else, baby. I will personally remove them."
"As ordered, colonel. Bed."
He flew the ship above the trees. "Moy...thanks."
"For?"
"Not asking about the mission. Or my mood. I don't want to talk about either right now."
"Okay, John. When you're ready." She stared at him a moment. He was flying the ship, hands on the controls, gazing out the viewport. "You, you are okay, aren't you?"
"I'm fine." The ocean came into view. Sparkling waters that were rushing towards the distant city poised upon them. Suddenly he veered the ship in a turning arc. Moira grabbed the stroller as the baby chortled, clapping.
"John! What the–"
"Not yet, Moy. Hold on, junior!" The Jumper executed a perfect 360 over the waters.
"John!" Moira scolded, as the baby exclaimed in delight.
"Ga! Gaga goo! Gaga goo!"
John glanced at his son, grinned. "You got that right, captain. Dada. Dada," he pronounced emphatically. Looked out the viewport at the sparkling waves. "Shielding."
"What? You're going under?" Moira exclaimed.
John met her gaze, smiled wickedly. "Repeatedly, baby."
