Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, as ever. Well, here it is. The final chapter. I hate this bit: it feels like I'm letting an old friend go. Hope you enjoy.
Sometimes when things are going right, when calm is restored after an explosion of trouble and pain, we forget about the rubble we leave behind: those whose lives we've inadvertently changed. Who knows what they think of us as we swan along happily, comfortable in the belief that all is well? Such it was for others as John, Cat and Mona found each other again.
On a far distant planet, a lone priestess knelt at the altar to her disgraced gods. It hadn't taken too long for the news to reach her which had initially shattered her strength of belief, founded upon centuries of endeavour and faith: their malevolent intent so evident, that they would take the innocent life of the Mother and care little for the welfare of the Child who was destined to be the saviour. But, as with other religions across the galaxy and beyond, those who worship devoutly quickly dismiss or subvert that which threatens to derail them, turning back to their beliefs often with a renewed ardour. So it was for her and her kin. Their solace was in the absolute knowledge that a girl child as foretold by their ancestors, a child messiah with the ancient gene, had been born into their world and was living proof that they had not been mistaken. For now, they would wait patiently for daughter and mother to return to them, prepared to worship and adore. For what Janet Donaldson had failed to decode in all her efforts to find Mona, her eye unfocussed on other hints and subtleties, was that the Mother was almost as sacred as the Child. It had been foretold that the goddess Nekhbet, Mother of Mothers, would save the blessed progenitor, saving her from the evil ones, those who had turned out to be their false gods, betrayers of the faith. And now, all they had to do was regroup and wait. One day, Mother and Child would return to them, fulfilling the ancient prophecy. With a new assurance, the Sisterhood settled back again, certain again of the long waited for outcome.
Another person, overlooked in all the fuss and excitement, had suffered greatly since Cat/Carla's 'rescue'. A pale, middle-aged man had found in his life someone to love. When the beautiful woman had 'appeared' on his planet, so damaged and without her memories, he took her up and cared for her. From the moment the others had brought her broken body into the tavern and laid it on the floor, he'd fallen in love in a way he'd never expected, feeling overwhelming tenderness and a powerful passion for the stranger. He knew, yes he did, that it wouldn't, couldn't last, that she must belong to someone, but he'd hoped too that she'd never be found or that her memories wouldn't return. Not a man to relish the 'outside' world, fearing the enormity of open space, he had always shut himself away, but now he found that he couldn't step outside the door. For a while, he grieved as though a loved one had died, refusing to eat to the point where he almost faded away, but now a new resolve had begun to form. It would take a while for Dane to act upon this discovered strength of will, not naturally being a man who took action, but in time he would find a way to meet her again. And, when that time came, he was determined that he wouldn't lose her again. Yes, he wasn't beaten yet. Carla would realise soon that he was the man for her. And, he'd show all those damn women who sneered at his apparent weakness what strength of will was all about.
Most of her memories had returned, yet there were still some black areas, or at least a little grey and she needed to know. She'd been filled in on everything that had happened in her absence, some of it painful to hear and digest, but sometimes things would catch her out. A face that she should know would greet her in the corridor (she'd become quite expert at the friendly smile and knowing nod) or an image would skim across her memory which she couldn't quite grasp. And, there was the unsaid 'thing', something that John was not saying but that she could sense was hanging there. There had been the awkward greeting from the pretty little scientist who had blushed at bumping into them one morning on their way to breakfast followed by his nervous silence afterwards. And after that, he'd stayed out a little later than usual, 'playing' with Rodney, supposedly tweaking the performance of their remote-controlled cars.
Other matters needed resolving too. She had some thank yous to deliver to those who had rescued her and looked after her. Larrin had been in touch to report on the events on the planet after her 'rescue'. Apparently Dane had taken it pretty hard and, not a man to venture outside anyway much, had become even more reclusive. She owed him and his people a debt of gratitude and wanted that debt to be paid by a visit in person. John hadn't been happy about the prospect and had been especially sullen when she'd said that she needed to thank the man who had taken her in and probably fallen in love with her. She remembered distantly him trying to kiss her the night before she left and, although she wouldn't admit to John, she couldn't remember if anything else had happened between them and she really, really needed to find out for her own peace of mind. She rather hoped, too, that they hadn't lied to her, that they really believed she'd been in an 'accident', and maybe she'd mumbled her name and they'd thought she said 'Carla'. On the other hand, it was entirely possible that Dane might have wanted to keep her for himself: Larrin had been less than flattering about the man and his prospects of finding a woman. In either case, she needed to go back. But, for now, that would have to wait. Woolsey, The IOA, Stargate Command, John, Teyla, and anyone else she cared to name were all absolutely against her taking the risk. Still, one day she would find a way to go back; to speak to those who saved her. It just felt like the right thing to do. But, for once in her life, she let herself be guided by others and let it lie.
There was also the little issue of what she was going to do from now on. I mean, her job had been taken by someone else and her shoes were being very well filled; she couldn't really insist that Janet Donaldson were asked to step down, not after all her good work, but where did that leave her? Cat was not a stay-at-home wife and she needed something to keep her occupied and to challenge her. She also needed time to fully recover with at least one more operation on the horizon. So, if not the job of Chief Archivist, what else could she do? Someone had suggested that she help in the nursery, but frankly spending all day with little children was not her forte and she knew that her patience couldn't stand the test. Mona was enough for her: in fact, Mona was enough 'toddler' for anyone! There was an idea, or at least a germ of an idea, beginning to form but she would put some demons to rest before she pursued it further.
Her days now were orderly and pre-planned, the habit of making a daily list of things to do having stuck from the earliest days of her recovery. Running was out of the question yet, but after she'd delivered Mona to the nursery, she would visit the gym and gently work out with Teyla and sometimes Ronan. A visit to Rodney too, sometimes just to look over his shoulder or to touch base if he were engrossed in his latest project, but at others challenging him to a game of chess. Since her return he'd beaten her most of the time, but she'd begun to win again the last couple of times: more evidence of her recovery. Of course, this entire carefully planned regime could be thrown into disarray if the team were called away and today was one of those days. So, with nothing else to do she settled down to organise the party.
This was to be the biggest party Atlantis had seen, at least in the life of its current occupants. As many of the colonists as could would attend, with the exception of those needed to man all the important posts. General Jack O'Neill had promised a visit on the returning Daedelus, Stephen Caldwell also invited to share in the celebrations. Cat was determined that the whole was a to be in honour of everything the outpost had achieved so far; for all the lives won and lost in their continuing battle to survive; for all the scientists who'd working all hours to ensure the expedition's success; for the technicians who oiled the city's cogs; for the doctors and nurses, teachers and carers who kept the city healthy. The West Pier was bedecked with garlands and decorations, courtesy of The Athosians, and Maria Johnson and her catering crew had worked for several days preparing the food. A temporary bar had been placed at one end and Harry Burt was absolutely banned from stepping behind it. Several marines had proved themselves to be quite adequate musicians and would be providing an odd mix of jazz, rock and something they called 'progressive', although it sounded nothing like progressive music Cat had ever heard.
As darkness descended upon the city on the night of the party, many of its occupants were desperately trying to fit into too tight suits or dresses that were slightly out of date and often a little moth eaten (or at least the galaxy's equivalent of moths, more highly coloured but able to give a nasty nip if caught unawares). Ronon wasn't bothered. He would dress as he always did, and he looked on amused as Amelia tried to look 'girlie' in a pink froufrou of a dress. Katie McKay was in the early stages of her second pregnancy, that awkward stage where nothing quite fits and nothing looks quite right, and Rodney's constant snarky chatter about parties and 'waste of time' wasn't particularly helping. Teyla had no such difficulty, her pale Athosian robe still sitting perfectly on her trim body. Richard Woolsey didn't know whether to dress up or dress down and had changed several times before he decided upon a smartish blazer and blue trousers; he was now sipping a glass of Merlot in an attempt to calm his nerves: not a man good in social situations. Maria Johnson was, with Cat's help, looked positively pretty in her long elegant dress and Harry Burt had donned his snappiest pin stripe. Currently, he was on his way to her quarters, a corsage in his hand, ready to do it 'right'. Jack O'Neill had arrived and would step to the party in Caldwell's company, two military men trying to be comfortable in civvies, pretending to be civilians but with that air of 'aging soldier' that never goes away: something in the upright stance and tension of the shoulders, as well as the sharp military edges of their hair cuts. The nursery was currently full of excited children, a small group of volunteers looking after them while their parents were readying themselves. Cat had been insistent: all children were welcome and should attend. After all, they were the future.
Cat was sitting on her bed, watching John get ready. She had no problem with her choice of outfit and it was amusing to watch his indecision, and quite pleasurable too as his toned body disappeared into a shirt then re-appeared as quickly as the thing was dismissed. In the end he caught her amused eye and stopped.
'Well, Lady smug! What are you smirking at?' He turned to face her, wearing nothing more than his black boxers, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of discarded garments.
'You're useless,' she smiled. Then, recollecting what she wanted to say to him, needing this resolved before the party, the smile faded. Okay, here goes: the thing that had been nagging away at her for several days now, ever since she'd seen the look that had passed between him and the dark haired scientist. 'John, can I ask you a question and please, I want an honest answer?'
'Okaaay,' he replied uncertainly. 'I'll do my best,' and with that sat down next to her on the bed.
'While I was away, was there anyone else? I mean, did you find anyone to spend time with? I wouldn't blame you, you know, I was away for a long time.' She knew that she wasn't being entirely honest with herself. Despite all the logic of the situation, she dreaded hearing him say 'yes' to her question, fearing the unwelcome and irrational sense of betrayal she knew she would feel if he did.
She could hardly bear to look in his direction, but felt rather than saw the stiffening of his shoulders which signified the tension that had crept into them. There was a long pause as he considered what he should say before he coughed to clear his throat and very firmly said, 'Yes, there was.'
Cat shut her eyes, trying not to let the tears break free that would betray her to him. She had been so determined that all she needed to know was the truth that she was unprepared for how the truth stung. 'Tell me about it? Please? I need to know. Did you have sex with her? Was it good?' Damn, now she'd gone too far and was in danger of ruining the evening for both of them.
Arms wrapped around her and she felt the soft down of his bare flesh against her clothes as he hugged her tightly. He rarely gave anything away with his voice yet there was something in its timbre that suggested the emotion he was feeling. Then, he put a hand under her chin and raised her face to his, demanding eye contact. 'Listen to me,' he said carefully and slowly,' nobody matters to me more than you. You are my life and my soul mate. You'd been missing, dead, for six months when it happened. It was just one night of sex, nothing else. And, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't good, but it wasn't great. Not like it is with you. You are the only one for me. Forgive me, please?'
Cat could see the urgency in his eyes, a request for her forgiveness or at least her acceptance. And, in the end, she couldn't say for certain that nothing had happened between her and Dane, some memories still blurred. It was time to put away the past and live in the now and for the future. 'Do you know something, John Sheppard? I love you too. Mind you, you have some serious making up to do before I'll forgive you.' His face began to relax and the smile returned more broadly when she said, 'I mean, you're already most of the way to naked and I'm wearing some very special underwear tonight that I had fully intended to reveal later. Perhaps now might be a better time?'
A hand moved to her knee, then slowly lifted her dress, while managing to caress up her thigh to her knickers. 'Oh my!' he exclaimed. 'Now there's a pleasant surprise. I think the party will have to wait for its host for a bit, don't you?' And somewhere in her befuddled brain she thought that she could get over his little 'indiscretion' if this were to be the outcome of his guilty conscience, so long as he didn't make a habit of it.
The West Pier swung with music and laughter, ripples riding across the waves, melting into the soft reflection of moonlight shimmering in the water. Lights glimmered, seemingly many more than on view, the city lighting up the party in her own unique way, sharing in the joy and festivities. Children scampered among the dancers, sliding under feet, laughter rising to the sky. Harry and Maria swayed across the dance floor, eyes only for each other, finally accepting that the achievable was far more alluring than the unattainable. For now, everything was okay. For a moment, the city was at peace.
John and Cat looked out across the ocean, and she took a deep breath of salty evening, breathing in more than just the soft air. With John by her side she could cope with anything the Galaxy should decide to throw at her. Just then, a little arm tugged at her skirt and she looked down to see the laughing eyes of her daughter, face flushed from the chase, and the three of them stood together, united in their enjoyment of the present and, for now, at peace.
THE END
Well, there it is. The end of this story, but there's so much more to tell. Please R & R. It might encourage me to reveal more of their story and maybe, just maybe, some more East Pier scenes!