Adaptation4
John stirred. Shifted. Pain jolted along his back. Tendrils of aching stiffness along his muscles. He groaned softly. Head pounding quietly as the hangover lingered. Blearily he opened his eyes. Felt Moira next to him. His fingers caught on her shirt. He wondered why she was clothed. Why he was clothed. Recollections foggy. Indistinct. His fingers scooted, scrunched the material until he touched her bare skin. Needing to feel her bare skin. Her naked body. Soft and pliant under his. He groaned again but this time it wasn't from the pain.
Moira stirred, feeling John moving next to her. His fingers on the bare skin of her back. Callused touches rough but gentle. Startled she sat up, glanced round to see daylight flooding the room.
"Shit! Oh shit!"
"Morning to you too, Moira," John said, amused. He smiled as she met his gaze. "What?" Her panicked gaze slid from his face to his pants. He glanced down his body. Saw the magenta material peeking out of his pocket. Smirked.
Moira stared at the fabric. Heart hammering in anguish. For a moment fearing it belonged to some other woman. But she pulled it out of his pocket, recognized the panties as her own. A wave of relief swept through her. "John? What the hell? John?"
"What? Oh, those? I found them in my bed, Moira. So I kept them. Trophy."
"You...what? You had these in your pocket the whole...in the debrief? You had your hand in your pocket during the whole debrief! You were...you were..."
He smiled, finding her flustered state arousing, amusing. She was waving the panties in front of him like a flag. "Yes, baby, I was. Stroking them. Fondling them, if you will. That soft, sweet satin...except they weren't really the way I like them." His low voice was husky with sensuality.
Moira swallowed, but shoved the panties into her pocket. "Hilarious, John! I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stay, I fell asleep. I didn't mean to–"
"So you didn't have your wicked way with me?" he teased, deflecting her emotion.
"No. Where's the fun in that when you were out like a light, flyboy?" She smiled, but cursed. Stood. "I'm sorry, John, really! I didn't mean to stay, to stay like this, I mean I know you, we...we're not....I'll just go."
"Moira? Moira!" he called, sitting awkwardly as his head swam in protest. He watched her leave. Almost went after her. Almost.
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"Moira?"
Moira whirled at the female voice, only steps from John's closed door, from his room she had just exited in a maelstrom of emotion and confusion. "Oh...um...Louise."
Louise Otero stared. Shocked. "You...Moira? You? You...that's Colonel Sheppard's room!" Her gaze took in Moira's unkempt appearance. Hair messily falling loose from the ponytail. Clothes all rumpled as if they had been slept in or hastily pulled on. The same clothes she had on yesterday. Her embarrassed, flustered expression.
"I...yes. I mean, I was just consulting with the colonel, over, over a mission," she stammered, uncertain. Glanced at the closed door. Could only imagine John's annoyance.
"A mission? Or the missionary position?" Louise quipped, but her words were laced with anger. Envy. Her blue eyes narrowed. She shook her head. Short red hair whipping around her face. "I don't believe it! You? You and–"
"I've got work to do, Louise. It was nothing, nothing!" Moira quickly strode down the hallway. Cursing over and over to herself.
After a quick shower and change of clothes she entered the cafeteria. Filling a tray she joined Katie Brown and Julie Armstrong. And Louise much to her consternation. Ignoring the third woman Moira ate her breakfast. Listened to the idle chatter. "A trip to the mainland?" she asked, becoming interested in the conversation.
"Yes," Katie enthused. Smiled. "A full-on expedition. It should be explored completely. Not in fits and starts like we're doing now. Even beyond the Athosian settlements and that mountain range. I can handle the botany. You can handle the zoology. Julie is our resident geologist and Louise can operate any tech we find."
Julie laughed. "If only! A girl's expedition? Not likely in this galaxy. Like I've been telling you, Katie, they won't go for it. Not without insisting we are accompanied by a few marines. Military escorts, like we need them," she snorted, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder.
"There's really no need on the mainland," Moira agreed, interested. "We wouldn't be that far from Atlantis and could radio for help if we needed it." She frowned. "But we would need a pilot with the ATA gene."
"Gee, know of any?" Louise asked, voice sharp.
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John had showered, neglected to shave. Grabbed some food in the cafeteria and sat with Rodney who was devouring his breakfast like a man starved for food. John glanced along the tables, saw Moira. Resolved to talk to her, to clear up this thing between them. But after he had eaten. "Drive pods?" he prompted.
"Yes, as I was saying," Rodney repeated around a mouthful of food, "we have fixed the drive pods and the hull is nearly finished. Despite my headache. Remind me never to drink like that again, would you? It impedes my thinking."
John smiled. "Sorry, Rodney, but you did it to yourself. So that just leaves the auxiliary systems and the viewport. It had a crack in it. Good job, Rodney! Not bad for a guy hung-over!"
"Do you have to shout?" Rodney complained. At John's laugh he frowned, put his head in his hands. "Why oh why did I let this happen again? Oh right...Moira."
John nodded. "She can be very persuasive, but don't blame her. You drank all of that beer on your own initiative. Like we all did."
Rodney sighed, met his gaze. "I know, I know. Tell me, this darker Atlantis...it must have been grim. And your other self? Equally grim?"
"Worse. I don't want to talk about it," John refused. Stabbed at his food with his fork.
"Okay. I was just curious. It must have been hard for Moira. I mean, since she was dead there, well, that version of her, you know. They must have thought they were seeing a ghost."
"Yeah. Something like that," John evaded. "Now leave it be, Rodney." A pause. Thoughts and emotions swarming in his head. Moira's sorrow. His jealousy. Carson's anger. Moira's love. His feelings for her. Carson's advice. He shook himself out of his brooding. Met Rodney's gaze. "Unless you want to get drunk again."
"God, no!" John laughed at his exclamation.
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"They'll insist," Julie continued. "You know how these men are. These marines think we scientists are helpless. I am so glad a civilian is in charge of this expedition. Can you imagine how bad it would be if the military were in charge?"
"It would be grim," Moira agreed, pushing the memory of that other John from her mind. "But we do need them out here."
"True," Katie sighed. "The Pegasus Galaxy is not the safest."
"Of course you'd say that," Louise noted, scowling. Eyes on Moira. "You are very close to the military, aren't you?"
"So," Moira said, ignoring the jibe, "if we were to mount this expedition how long do you think it would take?"
"Oh, you would know all about mounting, now wouldn't you?" Louise taunted.
"Louise, lay off!" Julie snapped. "Whatever is your problem is–"
"I saw her! Coming out of Colonel Sheppard's room! This morning!"
Moira sighed. "I told you, I had to consult with Colonel Sheppard over a mission that we–"
"In the same clothes you wore yesterday?" All eyes were on Moira. She remained silent.
"I say a week," Katie resumed the previous topic, "maybe two for a thorough exploration. But I think that Julie is right. They either won't approve it or will insist on a full military escort. They'll just get in the way."
"Waving their guns around," Julie agreed.
"I'm sure Moira could get us out of that. In fact I'm sure she can get whatever she wants. Isn't that right, Moira?" Louise asked sweetly. Daggers of jealousy in her eyes.
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"So we can have the ship operational when? A week?" John asked, moving to a safer topic.
Rodney shrugged. "More or less. You'll have to use another Jumper until then. I'm surprised you'd want to leave the city already. Oh, unless it's to explore somewhere else? With Moira, perhaps?" he hinted, a grin on his face.
John ignored him. "Do you think you can work on the possibility of those hybrids? I drew up a rough schematic of that ship, that hybrid ship and if you could work on–"
"Oh come on, John! Admit it!"
"Admit what, Rodney?" he asked mildly.
Rodney smiled, pointed at him. "It seems I am the last to know. About you. You and Moira. A scientist, John? Really?"
John inwardly groaned, but nodded. "Yeah. A scientist."
"Wow. Never would I have pictured you with...her."
John frowned. Set down his fork. "And why is that, exactly?"
"No offense, I just meant...wow...she's just not your, um, usual. Usual type, I mean. You know. Your usual type of woman."
"I have a type?" John asked, sitting back in his chair. Arms folded across his chest.
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"No, that's not right," Moira corrected calmly. "If we present our proposal to Doctor Weir I'm sure she'll agree a full military escort won't be necessary. But we will need a pilot to–"
"Oh, come on! We all know, Moira! You don't even have to through Weir anymore, do you? Just put out and he'll get you whatever you want. Or so I've heard from his other–"
Moira frowned. "It's not like that," she said tersely. "And those others were lying because he would never confuse the two. His personal life and his professional life are very, very separate."
"It's not like that? Really?" Louise scoffed.
"You're seeing Colonel Sheppard?" Katie asked. "Wow."
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"Well, um, um, yes! Yes! I mean, you know, John. A type, a certain type apart from those ascended or ascending women who always seem to, um, fancy you, for whatever reason I cannot fathom. You'd think they would want a more compatible companion, like me, for example, a brilliant scientist and physicist who understands the Ancient tech and all, but yes, you have a type," Rodney babbled, seeing John's growing ire. "All that I meant is that it is just surprising to see you interested in a scientist. Not an actual scientist like me but a what could be considered a scientist and who is not your certain type who has a, a..."
"A what?" John asked sternly.
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"No," Moira said, "why don't you stop while you're ahead, all right?" she advised, glaring at Louise. She eyed the other two women. "This expedition does sound–"
"Of course it is!" Louise said loudly. "Come on, Moira! Say it! Say it! If it was me I'd be shouting it over the PA! You can get whatever the hell you want now, can't you?"
"No," Moira tried to reason. "I can't."
"You can! Because you are fucking Colonel Sheppard!"
Silence fell like a stone at Louise's raised, angered voice. The loud comment carried across the length of the cafeteria. The words seeming to echo. All eyes turned to that particular table.
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Rodney glanced back at that table. Then eyed John who had glanced over there. But sipped some water, straightening in his chair. Seemingly oblivious. "Uh...John...shouldn't you..."
"No. I only wish I was..." he muttered.
"What? No?"
"Moira can handle it," he said mildly. But he kept one eye on that table.
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Moira stood. Angered but calm. Forgetting for a moment that they had, in fact, broken up. Possibly. She still needed an answer from John. "If by fucking you mean seeing, then yes, I am," she informed. "And that has absolutely no relevance to any mission or expedition."
"You're just jealous, Louise! Half of the women will be now," Julie observed, trying to stem the tide, the confrontation. "Although why you would want a military man is beyond me, Moira."
Moira leaned towards the other woman, voice lowering. Cold. "And by the way, just so you know. Yes. I am fucking Colonel Sheppard, and it is so good, so fucking good you cannot even begin to imagine how fucking good it is." She straightened. Sat. Drank some water. "So, this expedition. Do you think we could get a go for next week?"
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"Uh, John?" Rodney asked, as eyes moved to him, to her. Back and forth as if they were watching a tennis match. Smiles. Grins. Scowls.
"What?" John asked, eating his food again. He glanced at that table. Saw the women resume chatting as the red-haired one stared at him. Then abruptly stood and left the table.
"I guess she did handle it. Like you said. I wonder what that last part was...if that had been a man saying that to her–"
"He'd be dead now, Rodney. Eat. We've got work to do later."
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Moira ate, glanced at Katie and Julie. Shrugged. "Sorry about that. It had to be done, and a little Irish temper goes a long way." The women laughed.
"And well done," Julie agreed with a smile. "You know, you are the envy of many women."
Moira sighed. "I know...I was," she muttered, uncertain. Laughter drowned her words.
Katie shook her head. "Wow. I don't know if I could have done that. If it had been a man who had said that to you–"
"John would have been over here so fast it would have made your head spin," Moira commented. She glanced over her shoulder to see his eyes on her. She looked back at her friends. "Although I know, I just know he is pissed right now. Damn it. When this reaches Weir she'll...oh shit! I am supposed to meet her this morning!" she realized. Stood.
"Why? You didn't do anything. It was all Louise," Julie remarked.
"Just put her in her place, is all," Katie agreed.
"I better go. Weir's expecting me. I'll grab some files first," Moira stammered. She exited the cafeteria with quick strides.
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"So you would have gone over there and handled it?" Rodney asked.
"Yes. And he'd be dead," John reiterated. Gaze on Moira as she left. Her rapid strides making her ponytail swing back and forth like a beacon. Her hips swaying.
"You mean...really?"
"Yes."
"You obviously don't expect any kind of trouble like that from your marines, then?"
"No. Why would I?" John asked, stood. "I'll meet you in the Jumper bay in one, no, two hours." He stepped quickly out of the cafeteria. A smile forming on his handsome face.