A/N: No, Remy's not pregnant. I decided that was just too much drama in an already kind of difficult pairing. This chap was sparked by the song 'Feel that Fire' by Dierks Bently, if you care to know. -pj
Disclaimer: Nope. Still Not mine.
Day Sixty-Six
Remy swam in Ronon's shirt. It was both too long and too big but she didn't seem too keen on giving it up so that he could actually wear it. Sheppard had called him to go on an impromptu mission in twenty and he stood completely naked, wandering the room looking for his boots and pants, since he'd already found his shirt. He looked over when he heard Remy giggling. She'd picked up some scrap of paper off her bedside table and was holding it out in front of her with one eye closed.
"What are you doing?" He asked, spotting his pants and going to pull them out from under a pillow on the couch.
"Oh, just imagining what you would look like in a loin cloth," she dropped her hand and grinned at him, "I like."
Ronon approached her in such a way that made Remy's grin falter and her heart rate quicken. He leaned over her on the bed, his arms propping him up on either side.
"I need my shirt."
"I disagree," She said, raising and eyebrow and flicking her eyes down at his chest and solid abdomen.
"Remy," he said in a low, coaxing voice.
"Ronon," she said, imitating him.
He sighed, dropping his shoulders slightly, "fine, I'll just go back to my room like this."
She shrugged, "fine."
"Fine. I'm sure you won't mind that I have to walk past the rest of the female barracks, including the women's locker room, to do it."
Remy's challenging smile dissolved into a frown, the possesive glint that amused him so flashed in her eyes. She finally started to sit up, causing Ronon to have to stand as well, and she held her hands up over her head.
With a smirk, Ronon pulled his shirt off her and dropped the thin cloth over himself.
He reached down and cupped the back of her head with one hand, drawing her into a long kiss that warmed every part of her, including those that were now exposed to the cool air. He pulled back, tucking some hair, now loose around her shoulders, behind her ear.
"So what are you going to do today while I'm gone?" He stepped away and went in search of his holster and gun so he could go meet Sheppard in the gate room.
Remy reached for a robe and made herself busy making the bed, "Oh, um, Teyla and I have plans. She's not going on the mission with you, right?"
Ronon shook his head and frowned at his holster, which he'd found empty, under the edge of the bed. "She went trading yesterday with some friends from Athos. She's getting back later today."
Remy nodded and reached out to fluff the pillows. Ronon noted this with interest, since he knew Remy was usually doing well to get her clothes folded and in a drawer, let alone make the bed and fluff the pillows.
He fastened his holster around his hip and then crossed his arms, waiting.
Remy avoided his gaze and went back to smoothing out the blankets. Then adjusted the pillows on top and fluffed them again.
"Remy."
"Yes," she said, not looking up.
"Hand it over."
"Hand what over?" She chanced a glance at him and looked away quickly, only affirming Ronon's suspicion.
He continued to stare. Finally, after she'd smoothed the blankets and fluffed the pillows three times more and Ronon had yet to budge, Remy sighed dejectedly. She picked up one of the pillows to reveal his blaster lying innocently at the head of the mattress. She twirled the weapon a few times around her finger and then handed it to him.
"Have I told you lately that you're no fun?"
Ronon slipped his gun into it's place on his hip, kissed her again and turned for the door.
"Yes, actually. You have."
---
Sheppard glanced sideways at Ronon. He hadn't said a word since they'd left the infirmary after their checkups and, come to think of it, he hadn't been all that talkative on the jumper or in the debriefing before the checkups either.
He sighed, rubbing his shoulder where the weight of his p90 always seemed to dig in on his tac vest. "Look, I said I was sorry."
Ronon turned a slow glare on him.
"Don't look at me that way, it's not like I planned this. I didn't like spending three hours locked in a decrepit old science lab with Rodney and his cronies any more than you did."
"If you hadn't shot the door controls-"
"Don't act like you weren't thinking it."
Ronon just shook his head and they continued on down the hall toward the transporters, that is until Ronon realized he was alone. He turned back and saw Sheppard standing in front of Teyla's quarters.
"What are you doing?" He asked, returning to his COs side.
Sheppard waved his hand over the chime, "I thought I'd stop and see if Teyla wanted to come get something to eat."
As he finished speaking the doors swished open and the smell of acetone and the sound of laughter flooded out into the hallway. Teyla wore a glittery green top and a long dark skirt with a slit up to her thigh and she smiled sweetly at two of the members of her team.
"John, Ronon. You have returned."
"Uh, yeah." John said, having some difficulty finding words to fit his tongue. Her eyelashes were huge and thick, her cheeks rosy and pure and had her eyes always been that golden brown color? To distract himself, and hopefully look less like he was staring, he peered over Teyla's shoulder into her quarters.
There were bags of fabric and produce and supplies strewn about her quarters like a post Christmas morning apocalypse. On the floor in the midst of it all were five women sitting in a circle, nail polish and various forms of makeup scattered between them. Among them was Remy, who was working on applying purple eye shadow to one of Teyla's Athosian friends.
She looked up when Teyla opened the door and grinned.
"Hey, how'd the mission go?" Remy stood and made her way over to them. Ronon looked down, trying to figure out why she was walking so strangely. Her jeans were rolled up to mid-calf and her footwear consisted of some sort of sandal that was keeping her newly red toenails separate. His gaze traveled upward and found her fingernails were painted black, matching her shirt.
"We just came to see if you wanted to come get something to eat…what, ah…what's going on here," John said, feeling a little excited and a little awkward, and he was reminded of when he was ten years old and his best friend Gordy had convinced him to help crash Gordy's older sister's sleepover.
"That is kind but we have already eaten."
"I can see that," Sheppard caught sight of six discarded and empty trays piled up on the table.
"And I'm doing makeovers." Remy said proudly.
"Why?" Ronon eyed the rest of the women still sitting on the floor. They were whispering excitedly in their native tongue, passing around a small handheld mirror and ogling each other's newly colored faces.
Remy gave him a strange look, "why not?" Then she tilted her head and reached over to swipe her hand over the door controls, effectively sealing out their male intruders.
Sheppard shook his head as if clearing it and stared at the door a moment longer.
"That was weird."
Sheppard shrugged, wondering if he'd ever be able to get the image of Teyla looking so…glowy, out of his head.
"Yeah, that's one word for it."
TBC
