Artificial Selection9
John fired. Fired again. The P90 felt solid in his hands. Secure. Something he could control, contain, unlike emotions, reactions. Bullets flying, zipping through the air. Creating a shape on a target. He grunted, stared. Satisfied. Looked around but he was quite alone. He lowered the weapon. Hit the switch which brought the tattered paper to him. He tore it off the grid, quickly folded it, pocketed it hearing footsteps. Turned quickly to see Ronon approaching. "Hey."
Ronon nodded. Gazed upon the array of weapons on offer. Selected one after a moment. "It doesn't work."
"Huh? You haven't even fired it yet," John noted, eying the handgun.
Ronon flipped it. Aimed. Hit the target dead-on. A single shot to the head of the silhouette. Obliterating most of it. "Ordering."
"Huh? Ordering what, pizza?" John asked, perplexed.
Ronon met his gaze. "Ordering. They don't respond well to that. You should know by now."
"Who? The men? Of course they do, they've been trained to...oh shit. You mean Moira, don't you? Crap. Does the whole city know our business now?" he griped.
Ronon shrugged. "It's the child. Changes everything, doesn't it? You. Her. The team. The city. Every mission. Every decision. Action."
"Gee, thanks for that. Giving a pep talk is not your strong suit. Nor is giving advice. Is that what you are trying to do? Give me advice? About my marriage? About my wife? I didn't ask you, did I? I can handle this. In my own way. Moira and I will be fine, we always are fine. And my son...he's fine too. No, he's better than fine. He's very fine. Very. Nothing happened to him. Nothing will ever happen to him, and despite what Moira may think I won't allow it to happen to him. I can't believe she would even question my concern over him, my care, how I feel about my own son! Sure, I was impetuous. Sure, I was stupid, even, but I had his best interests at heart. And the rest, well, she's more than used to that by now. All of that, and God forbid if I ever hurt her. I never would! And she knows that, despite all the melodrama over it. So..."
Ronon smiled. Clapped his friend on the back, almost knocking him over. "Like I said. Ordering. Doesn't work with women, John. Never will."
John sighed, swore at the Satedan's mirth. As he left he loaded the P90, fired again, this time without a pattern in mind.
Moira sighed. Watched as Katie Brown played with the baby. The infant was chortling, enjoying the attention from the auburn-haired woman. "Sometimes I think he regrets this. All of this. But I know he really doesn't. I know it's almost too much for him sometimes. It's almost too much for me sometimes. We knew it wasn't going to be easy but still...and then he clams up. Won't say a damn word about what is really bothering him, oh no, not John Sheppard, not the strong, alpha male. He bottles it up and instead insists, no, demands! He demands we have sex. Incredibly passionate sex until he's taken all that wants and more and then...well..." Moira sighed, saw her friend's amusement. "Okay, I'm not really complaining about that, except what he says, the way he...anyway...with the baby now things are more complicated."
Katie smiled, glancing at her friend. "You'll adjust. You both will. It will take time. For all three of you. Rodney's convinced you are getting a divorce again."
Moira made a scoffing sound. "As if. Hell, no, John doesn't get out of this that easily!" The women laughed. "No, Rodney always jumps to the wrong conclusion when we argue."
"I know. It's so cute, too. He's very concerned and serious about it. I try to tell him it will blow over and you two will be fine, but no, he's convinced things are over and somehow, in every scenario he ends up with the kid. I have no idea why!"
Moira laughed. "Because that is his worst nightmare, probably."
"Mama goo!"
"Sorry, Johnny, that would be your worst nightmare." The women laughed. The baby giggled, as if he understood the joke. She stood, lifted the infant and kissed him. Bounced him gently as he held onto her shirt, prattling. "Let's go get some dinner."
"What about John?"
Moira shrugged. "He knows where the cafeteria is. Besides, knowing John he's probably doing something involving guns or ammunition. It's one of his happy places. Let's go, Johnny. If you're good you can have a taste of some ice cream."
"GA!" the baby exclaimed, causing laughter.
John filed the last report. Looked up from the data pad as he sat in the conference room. Stomach growling. It was late. He was hungry. He stood. Stretched. Yawned. Reluctant to face people. To suffer through their concern, their advice. Sick of the attention, however well-meaning it grated on his nerves. Interfered with his private life which he preferred to be private. Even it that included a shouting match with his wife. Or imploding some Ancient tech. He grinned for a moment. Or wild, loud sex. He headed for the cafeteria. Grabbed some food and ate, ignoring the curious looks of the few people there.
"John." Carson joined him, eyed him.
John inwardly sighed. "Yes? If you must know Moira is probably putting Johnny to bed right now, okay? We don't have to be joined at the hip, you know." A more salacious image occurred in his mind but he pushed it aside, trying not to smirk.
"I wasn't going to ask, but all right."
"Oh. Then what?"
Carson smiled. "I just wanted to reassure you. About your son. He's in perfect health. As far as I can tell there would be no ill effects from having what he has." The doctor's voice lowered. "I don't know why the Ancients would expunge any records of this, considering the beneficial effects for the city, but I can assure you that wee Sheppard is fine."
"Thanks, doc. I mean I knew that already, but thanks." John sighed. Sipped his water. "I need to track down Baldy and get some real answers. Trouble is the guy can ascend whenever he wants and escape me. Damn him."
"I'll keep searching the data base and the medical records. There has to be something, John. Even a footnote, a brief about the unlikely occurrence of such an event, or the breeding for it."
"You think they bred for it?"
"It's possible. Until something went wrong or some danger was realized. I don't know. You know how the Ancients liked to tinker."
"Yeah, with humans and planets and even their own people. They were as bad as the Wraith in that respect." He frowned. Stood. "I should check on Johnny."
John strolled into his quarters. Saw Moira at the table, working on a data pad, expression serious as her gaze was glued to the screen. Her hair was loose, swirling around the lilac nightshirt she wore. Along with the fuzzy lilac socks that made him smile. Feel a surge of fondness and amusement. He moved to her. Silently set a folded piece of paper next to her.
Moira met his gaze, startled. Stared at the warmth in his brilliant green eyes. "John?"
"I'll check on junior." He crossed into the nursery, moved to the crib. He stood, staring down at the sleeping baby. Rosy cheeks. Rosy little mouth half-open in an "o" shape. Long lashes over big blue eyes. His dark, silky hair disordered as much as his father's. He was clad in a little blue sleeper. Holding onto a stuffed bear, but his stuffed plane was close as well. A soft blue blanket covered his little legs. He shifted, made a small sound, fell back to sleep.
John touched the baby's arm. Marveling how something so small, so vulnerable could have such an enormous effect on him. Could have completely changed his life, even more than the marriage to Moira had.
Moira touched the paper. It was thick, rough. She unfolded it. Recognizing it as a target for shooting practice. She smiled. The bullet holes formed a large heart-shape around the silhouette of the target. Scribbled inside was an arrow. The names John & Moira. The Gaelic phrase from their wedding rings gra anois agus godeo. Love now and forever. She smiled, felt tears. Love so strong it propelled her from the chair, from her work.
She entered the nursery. Saw John standing watch over his son. Gold city lights falling across his long, lean form. She smiled. "John."
He turned at her soft voice. Smiled as she neared quietly. The paper in her hand. "Um...yeah. Since roses didn't work I thought I'd, well, you know. That."
She stepped closer. Kissed him. "I love you, John. Let's go to bed." She took his hand, led him into their room. "I'm sorry, John. I know you'd never hurt your son. Never."
"I know you know. And the rest, well...you know." He pulled her gently to his arms. Kissed her. "Moira. My Moira. Nothing gets between us. Nothing, baby. Nothing." He freed her. "I'll get ready for bed." He strolled into the bathroom.
Moira smiled. Set the paper on the table. Powered down the data pad. Turned down the lights. She slid into the bed, sat waiting. Fingers playing with her hair. "John? Do you remember any of that stuff you saw from the podium?"
"Not much," he called from the bathroom. "Images, data...I don't know. It was a blur. A mess. Hey, Carson said something about breeding."
"Huh? Breeding what?"
John stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. He moved to the bed. "Breeding. The Ancients breeding for the double. Except it was a hit and miss thing, right? Like the ATA itself."
"Yes," she replied, watching as he got into bed beside her.
"Carson suggested they experimented. Like the Wraith."
"Probably." She sighed. "Genetic tampering. Artificial selection. But something must have happened. Something went wrong somewhere. Something so terrible they expunged their own records of it."
"Yeah. But don't you worry. Nothing like that will happen to Johnny." He kissed her. Moved her onto her back. Slid his body over hers. "Moira. Can you guess what I want to do now? Sweet and slow for my Moira. Okay, baby?"
Moira returned his kisses, shifting under him. "Yes, John, you...wait!" She pushed him back from her. Curbing her amorous reactions. "No crude talk! Okay, John? I don't like it."
"All right, baby," he soothed. "Nothing but love and romance from these lips." He kissed her. Moira, baby...so fucking sweet. That's okay, right?"
"Yes, John, just not the, the rest," she cautioned, moving again. "Oh John..." she sighed, enjoying his sensual explorations, attentions. Kissing him as her hands ran along his bare back. Until he suddenly stopped, lifting off her. "What is it?"
"Am I still your sweetie?" he asked suddenly. Brows furrowed in concern. Oddly serious even as his body was pressed to hers. All too eager to join with hers.
Moira smiled. "Yes, you are. Don't be silly, John." She kissed him. Shifting to invite him, encourage him. Could feel the hard length of him between her legs. But he stopped again.
"Then say it, baby. Say it," he suggested, voice low. Almost shyly met her gaze.
"I thought you didn't want me to call you that during sex, John," she countered.
He shrugged. "I don't. But this is just foreplay, baby. And we are going to take our sweet, sweet time. So?" He waited, oddly uneasy lest she not say it.
Moira kissed him. "John? Okay, sweetie." She kissed him again, pulling him closer. Whispered in his ear, "John's my sweetie. My sweetie. Make love with me, sweetie."
He smiled, grinned happily. "As ordered, baby."
