Chapter 9: Kinda I Want To

.oOo.

Jacket, boots, socks, bra and shirt off, her door gave a chime. It hadn't been very long since Michael had left. Thinking it was him; Gwen gave a slow smile and decided she would not bother with getting back into uniform. In just a tank and pants she padded, bare foot over to the door and looked forward to see how Michael would react.

"What? You changed the guards' minds to..." she trailed off. It wasn't Michael. It was Ronan. Her smile faded.

Ronan looked up from the floor and took note of her lack of attire before stating, "Take it you were expecting somebody else?"

Although feeling suddenly modest, Gwen refused to cross her arms. Instead she lifted them in a shrug and admitted, "So I was."

Narrowing his eyes, Ronan kept his tone light and requested, "May I come in?"

Gwen took a moment to decide. The large man seemed to fill her doorway but his handsome striking face was calm with a trace of uncertainty. His posture also appeared relaxed and open as he looked about her room, thumbs hooked into his pockets. All of this seemed to confirm to her that he was not trying to be intimidating but probably he was here in some regards to Michael.

Curious for possible answers, to what lay between the two men Gwen agreed, "Yeah." And beckoned him in with a wave. "What can I do for you?"

He stepped in, but only so far as to let the door close. Not wasting any time Ronan started quietly, "Actually it's what you can do for yourself."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I wouldn't get any closer to... Michael."

Gwen didn't miss the pause or his revulsion at saying his name and commented, "I see."

"No, you don't." When he took a step closer, Gwen didn't budge. Realizing the sharp look, Ronan gave her a little smile, took a polite step back then elaborated. "I've seen what he's done. What he's capable of and they haven't told you everything. He's more dangerous than you think. I'm only saying this because I don't want to see you get killed."

Appreciating his concern, delicately she started, "Ronan they already warned me of that. I under-"

"Not everything," he interrupted patiently. "Remember, they haven't told you everything."

"Then why don't you? Enlighten me, please?"

Frustrated Ronan worked his jaw for moment before explaining, "I can't. I'm probably pushing it as it is. Like I said, do yourself a favor and keep your distance with him. Don't get too... attached."

It's too late, Gwen realized suddenly as Ronan's last comment set off an internal alarm. And what do you mean exactly by that? Was the question she didn't dare voice. Watching him turn to the door Gwen offered no promises.

To his back she managed softly, "Ronan... Why do you hate him?"

He refused to look at her, opened the door and finally answered, "I think you'll figure that one out, eventually on your own."

"Does it have something to do with Teyla?"

Ronan stiffened and for a moment he didn't say anything. Cryptically he answered, "No this is all about who he is."

Blinking Gwen mulled over that answer and was about to ask another question when she heard the door close and found herself alone.

Thinking over the last thing Ronan said to her, she forgot about the usual ritual she took before going to bed. Instead she headed straight to it, taking off her pants along the way. Now in just her tank and underwear she crawled in and double checked the alarm clock. After setting and arming it Gwen clicked off the bedside lamp. Eyes closed but mind racing, sleep was pushed away. Ronan's words made her lose at least an hour and the subject of them another.

No this is all about who he is. Who he is... Who he is... Who he is...

Anxious as well as frustrated, Gwen turned onto her stomach hugging a pillow. A part of her wanted to be more than just friends with Michael. Already, the dreams she had of him were pretty intense. Now she tried to imagine his body pressed under hers and drift off with a smile.

Unfortunately, a pesky Satedan kept popping up, trying to attack Michael too. And pretending they were both fighting over her was amusing for only so long. Flipping onto her back again she tried to forget the both of them and focused upon something from home. It was a mental trick she used to clear her mind.

She focused on visualizing a familiar beat-up old mail box. Carefully, she filled in the black letters and numbers along its side. Every crack in its white paint and line in the faded gray wood post, she tried to recall. Relaxed and slipping deeper, she checked to see if it had anything in it. Finding some envelopes she took them and started down the rust colored gravel path. Reaching the sun bleached but sturdy wooden gate, she opened then closed it behind her. Walking under the arch bearing the name Ranchero de Reyes she was returning home.

.oOo.

It was late and dark and he knew he should be sleeping. But Michael could not get Gwen out of his head and the current song he was listening to wasn't helping. In her room the way her damp finger tips had caressed the very center of his hands had sent little unexpected warm shivers down his spine.

What disturbed him even more was when he concentrated on remembering the sensations he could almost feel them again. Whenever she touched him it felt good and he felt connected, unfortunately it lead to a rather uncomfortable side effect.

Sucking in a breath, he felt a now all too familiar aching heat grow in his groin. A look down at it what was starting to become swollen again had him debating over contacting Dr. Beckett. The first time it happened upon waking he almost did. But given its location and Michael's lack of desire of being poked and prodded at more, he just close his eyes and tried to clear his mind. Like before it had worked, there seemed to be no lasting ill effects and he guessed it was something his body naturally did. With some experimentation and observation he realized it tended to happen as he slept, upon first waking up and when he thought too much about Gwen's touch or body. He found at times the reaction embarrassing and it seemed to have a mind of it's own. When the first time it happened around her, he was beyond grateful they were sitting down.

Safe under the covers to let his body react however it wanted, he mulled over what it would it mean and feel like if he pressed his lips to Gwen's. The man and woman in the mess hall seemed to find it enjoyable. But Michael had yet to see the behavior repeated with others. He wondered over how common the practice was, what it all meant and what if any protocols were needed to be followed to initiate the act. But what he worried about most of all was would she accept such a gesture from him. On the balcony he almost tried it but then that disturbing flash of memory had hit him.

He was confident for the most part she would be receptive to it. For he had taken careful note of the close proximity she kept herself to him in comparison with the man and woman as well as others' she interacted with. The exception however was John. Michael felt the man's proximity to Gwen worrisome. That morning he was on his way to spar with Teyla when he spotted John and Gwen heading towards him in the other direction. She was laughing at something John had said and Michael drew up to an abrupt stop. Surprised over the sudden urge he had to attack John.

She has chosen me, Michael had thought, glaring at John as he walked up to them.

Before he reached them John spotted him first, nudged Gwen and pointed. Michael softened his stare and watched carefully as Gwen turned from John to him. Her smile went from warm to brilliant and Michael found his aggressions towards John immediately evaporate. The look in her eyes had changed too. She had seemed very happy to see him, which further reassured Michael.

Eye lids growing heavier, Michael gave a yawn. Pulling out the ear buds, he then turned off the iPod, rolled to his side and fell into frustrated dreams.

.oOo.