Bloodlines3
John dozed. Woke half an hour later. He carefully disentangled himself from Moira. Smiled. She was sound asleep. He kissed her cheek. Adjusted the blanket over her. Stood staring at her a moment. His wife. Carrying his child. But still stubborn about going on missions. About acting like nothing had changed when everything had.
He shook his head, left the room. Strode to the infirmary.
Carson Beckett was shaking his head, bent over a microscope. "This isn't right. There's a marked increase in the surface tissue. Whatever this is it's not a fungus." He looked up to see John heading for him. He sighed. Recognized the stern, serious expression on the colonel's face. "Yes, John, what do you need now?"
John smiled at the doctor's tired, exasperated tone. "I have a question. No, a concern."
"Look, John, personally I think that Darwin Lyell Carson is a fine name indeed, and if that is what Moira wants you should by all means agree."
John laughed. "No, not about that. And no. The name is John junior. I was thinking about 'Gate travel. Now, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. The wormhole disintegrates matter, transfers us into energy particles and then reintegrates our molecules to their original forms."
"Yes, as far as I understand it, colonel. This is really Rodney's field but–"
"Bear with me, doc. The matter stream becomes, in effect, us. Or we become part of the matter stream which then reintegrates us into our original forms, comprised of our unique DNA, right? The double-stranded helix."
"Yes. With a backbone of repetitive chains of sugar and phosphate. The two strands are held together by the complimentary pairing between the four chemical bases–adenine, cytosine, guanine and thymine, hence the A, C, G, T abbreviations. The foundations of a genetic language. Now the RNA is identical except for the T being replaced by the U, that is to say the thymine being replaced by the–"
"Yes, I got that, whoa! No need to get so technical, okay? Genes passed from parent to offspring. My question, well, concern is this. Can the matter stream interpret two different DNA codes in one body?"
Carson stared at him, then realized. "You mean Moira and–"
"John junior, yes. Moira keeps telling me that John junior is a collection of cells dividing and subdividing, in essence not a baby yet."
"Not even a fetus yet, or even an embryo for another month or so," Carson agreed.
"And it got me thinking about the matter stream's disintegration. However short it may be would it be able to distinguish John junior as another life form this early on? He's got her DNA and my DNA combined but is that enough for him to fully integrate? Or would he be absorbed into her since technically he is not a separate life form yet?"
Carson stared. Silent for a few moments, thinking. "I...that's a very good question, John."
John folded his arms across his chest. "I know. Right now is when he is most vulnerable, right? The first three months, you told us."
"Yes." Carson frowned. "To be honest, John, I hadn't given it much thought. It's not like I see a lot of pregnancies here in Atlantis. Well, any, actually, until now. Even so I should have considered it. I didn't think Moira would be going on missions for awhile because of her morning sickness and fatigue. I would think the last thing she would want is to go on a mission."
"True. But she's stubborn. Very stubborn. Still wants to behave like nothing has changed, but it has, Carson, it has! And if I flat out refuse her she will be pissed. But if there's a real danger she will have no choice but to do what I say. To stand down and agree."
"Let me confer with Rodney on this. On the exact nature of the matter stream. Does he know about Moira?"
"No. I haven't seen him to tell him. Moira wants it kept quiet for now," he grumbled.
"Because it is very early, John. I don't want to alarm you but the early days can be critical. All right, I'll ask him in general terms. Don't worry. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
"Thanks, Carson. But in any event the decision's made. We can't risk it, not at the moment."
He smiled. "Okay. I've got a few things to do before I check on her. She's resting right now."
"Good. Take care of her, John. She'll listen to you."
He snorted. "Yeah? Since when? I'll have to sweet talk her round, I guess."
Moira rolled onto her back. Turned onto her side. Muttered under her breath, caught between wakefulness and sleep. She shifted her legs. Rolled onto her other side and bumped into John's hip and leg. She reached along him, found his thigh. "Oh." She heard his gentle laugh. Opened her eyes, moving her hand down, into his lap. "Oh." She quickly retreated as he laughed again. Her fingers brushing his cock. "John?"
He smiled. Glanced at her from his laptop he was holding on the bed. "About time, Moy. How do you feel?"
"Fine." She yawned. Sat. Reached under her shirt to fix her wayward bra. "Hungry. What are you doing?" She tossed her messy hair back from her face.
He kissed her. "Working on a supply list."
"Oh. Like a new headboard?"
"No. A new bed. We need a bigger bed. Maybe even new quarters. What do you think?"
She blinked. "New quarters? Why? I like our quarters, John. Don't you?"
"Yes. But I think we need more room, Moy. Especially now."
She scooted close. His arm slid round her as she eyed his list. "What the...baby supplies? Crib. Cradle. Stroller. Blankets. Bibs. Diapers. John, you're getting way ahead of yourself here. There's not even a baby yet."
"I know, but there will be, sweetheart. I'm planning ahead. Contingency plans. Strategies. It's what I do, you know." He closed the laptop. Kissed her, stroking her side. "Moira."
She sighed. Cuddled against him. Touched his chest. "John, what about the mission?"
"I'm awaiting new intel, Moira." He lifted her face to his, kissed her. "Tell me, honestly, you really want to go? Instead of staying here with me? I'm restricted to the city for awhile. To be sure I'm recovered completely. So...I would like some time with you. Time together. You. Me. I only just learned about John junior, you know."
"I know. I...stop that!" She pulled away from him. Stared. Suddenly noticing the table. It was full of fresh, vibrant roses. Scarlet. Magenta. Pink. Yellow. Scattered among them were bags. Bags of Doritos. Different flavors. "John? You..." She smiled. A laugh escaped her.
"You needed fresh flowers. And well, you never specified which flavor of Doritos you craved, so I scrounged around. Confiscated them all. Take your pick. So...will you stay here with me, Moy?" He caught her hand, caressed. "Moira?"
She felt tears, looked down at the blankets. "I...I don't know. I...I feel so stupid, John. Insisting I go on this mission but now, now...I just want to be with you. Well, with the Doritos, actually, but you too," she teased with a smile. He playfully scowled. "I don't want to impede my team. More than likely I'll just throw up through the 'Gate, and I'm so tired. I'm so tired in the mornings. You and your damn sperm," she complained.
He smiled, relieved. "Then stay with me, Moira. Take care of yourself and John junior. I'm sure you have plenty of work here, don't you? Those five projects of yours, although that is too many all at once. Why don't you concentrate on the new classifications?"
"So that's it? You want to confine me to a desk job?" she snapped, glaring at him. She sighed. "Sorry." She turned away from him. "I don't know what's wrong with me. And it's Darwin Lyell Carson." She quoted, "'From so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved.' That's from Darwin, John. The last lines of On the Origin of Species. I need to be out there, working. I need to be stationed on Pleistocene Park. I need to be studying the diversity of life, of flora and fauna, relating it to both ancient and modern forms, even figuring out where the Wraith fit into this galaxy's bio-diversity, because they do, John, I've been working on a theory about that but I haven't said anything because I don't think Doctor Weir will appreciate it. I should be working, John, but you and your damn sperm ruined all that! Ruined everything!"
He was staring at her back, the fall of her messy hair. Her rumpled shirt. Not knowing whether to be amused or angered at the torrent of words spilling out of her. "You have plenty of work to do here, Moira. Work you can do here. Safely. And you will be out there again. Just not right now. And even if you weren't pregnant there's no way in hell I would station you on any planet except this one. No way." He touched her shoulder. "Moy, sometimes it sounds like you don't even want this child, don't even want any child. Is that it?"
"No! I want it. Just..." She turned to him, desperate to make him understand. "Are you ready for this, John? Truly? Are you ready to be a father? For all of the changes that are coming? All the changes to me? To us? We're not prepared, John! We're not ready! We didn't even plan for this! We didn't decide to do it. It just happened!"
"I know, sweetheart, and no, I don't know if I am ready. Probably not. But I want this. I want you. I want John junior. I never thought I'd have this in my life, Moy. Now that I do I want all of it. Don't you?"
"I....yes..." she stared, startled by his words, his seriousness. The gravity in his brilliant green eyes.
He kissed her, gently pulling her into his arms. "Moira. Don't fight this. Don't fight us. Don't fight me, or John junior. I know things are going to change, probably in ways we can't even imagine yet, but it will be for the better. All of it. You'll see."
"I...I don't...I..." she stammered, uncertain.
He kissed her again. "We'll leave our rooms the way they are, for now. All right? But I really wouldn't mind a bigger, more comfortable bed. With a stronger headboard."
She smiled. "Yes, colonel. That would be nice." She kissed him, slid off the bed. "I'm starving! And I need a new pair of pants. And panties."
"Why? I really like the crotch-less style, Moira. Makes life so much easier, don't you agree?"
"Shut up, John!" She grabbed clothes, moved into the bathroom.
John laughed. Moved to his room, set the laptop aside. Tapped his earpiece. "Sargent, have Major Lorne and his team assemble in the conference room in ten."
"Does that mean the mission's still on?"
He turned, smirked. Moira had combed her hair back into a ponytail. She wore a baggy blue sweatshirt that was long, reaching over her rear. A pair of jeans. "That doesn't camouflage anything, baby. I know exactly what you're trying to hide." His gaze lingered on her breasts.
She frowned. "As long as you're the only one, John, that's fine. Thanks to your lovely PA announcement about my ass again I need to keep it concealed."
"No one would dare say a thing, baby. The mission's a go, yes. You can sit in on the brief if you wish. Moy...are you going?"
She shrugged. "I...I don't know."
"Let's go. We can stop by the cafeteria so you can grab a sandwich. Me too." He tapped his earpiece, guiding her out of the room. "Carson, got that intel yet?"
"Almost, John. Where–"
"Conference room. Make it quick."
Moira turned. "Intel? What intel, John?"
"On 'Gate travel." At her continued stare he added, "On the matter stream's disintegration and reintegration effects on pregnant women."
"You...what? You..."
"Yes, I think of everything, Moira. Go." He guided her towards the cafeteria.
"I...I'm sure it's fine, John."
"I'm not. Not yet. Not until John junior is a fully formed baby. No, until we hear from Carson this discussion is tabled, for now. As is your participation in that mission. Grab a sandwich."
She did so, grabbed a bag of chips, a water. "John! You really think there could be a problem?"
"Possibly. You have two genetic codes now, Moira. And double J," he amended as people were near them, "is not a fully formed life form yet."
"Don't call...wow." She stared at him, stepping out of the line as he joined her. "You've really thought this through, haven't you, Mr. Science?"
"That's Colonel Science, and yes. Table." He gestured. Followed her to an empty table where they sat. "Apparently somebody had to," he grumbled. "You need to be more aware of double J, Moira," he chastised.
She frowned. "I am John! How can I not be? My body's a train wreck right now! Changing every day. Hormones going berserk. Throwing up every morning, getting horny every afternoon, being so tired I need to take a nap, then I can't sleep at night, all the–"
"Whoa, whoa, back up there, baby. Horny every afternoon?"
She scowled at his interest, but smiled. Bit into her sandwich. Chewed and slowly swallowed. Sipped her water. "Yes, sweetie. You missed quite a few weeks there, colonel. Once I got over the shock of finding out. And then the worry over you...you really think I'd do it on the conference table if I wasn't a mess of cravings and hormones right now?"
He smiled, but frowned. "Damn! I missed that? Shit! Every afternoon?"
She nodded. "Yes, and thinking of you...memories of you and your big, hard ordnance driving into me...hell, just memories of your kisses and your tongue...would get me so..." She sighed. "Talk about needing a spare...sometimes two."
John nearly did a spit take. Caught himself. "Two? Shit!"
"Lower your voice!" she scolded, but enjoyed teasing him.
"Really? Two? While I was stuck on that fucking planet I could have been–"
"Fucking me full throttle every afternoon?" she finished pleasantly for him. "Anywhere? Any how? Yes, colonel. Yes. Oh well, it's not so bad now...not like it was. I tried various ways to assuage it, all sorts of things," she teased hotly, moving her fingers in front of him suggestively, "but nothing really was as effective as you. Nothing could compare to your big, hard, long ordnance driving into me, over and over. To your luscious lips and your dexterous tongue taking me so hard, so fast. To your long fingers and calloused hands running all over me. Every inch, John...every inch...but especially my sweet, sweet center aching to be filled by your hard, hard ordnance...driving through that tightness and slickness to make me scream." She licked her lips, stood. "Well, it's not so bad now," she repeated, voice calm, normal. "Thanks to your damn sperm the hurling puts me off of that, for awhile."
John was staring at her, completely captivated. Riveted by every salacious word, gesture. His mind filling with assorted erotic images she was implanting. Images to get him off, to make him hunger for her. "Fuck," he muttered. "Sorry, baby...if I had known, believe me, I would have gotten back here somehow. So...um...every afternoon? Now?"
She was silent. Eying him. Fingers running along the table back and forth. Back and forth. "Maybe. Maybe not. Let's go. The meeting," she clarified.