Migration10
Moira woke. Stealthily she slid from John's arms. He was sound asleep, snoring softly. Reclining on his side, limbs sprawled across the bed. Across her as she had been nestled into him. She carefully moved to the table. Sat. Quietly opened her laptop and quickly brought up some files. Converted the data into understandable sentences. Then translated it carefully into Gaelic. She kept glancing over her shoulder but John had not stirred. Was still snoring. She stared at the screen, needing to concentrate as her mind turned English into Irish.
Hearing a sound she froze, turned. John had turned onto his other side. Snorting. He fell silent, still asleep. One bare arm flung out of the blankets. She turned back, finishing quickly. Socks sliding back and forth on the floor as she worked. Mind racing.
She stood. Quickly pulled on some clothes, shoes. Converted the data to a flash drive. With a last look at John in the bed she left the room. Hastened down the hallways.
Rodney was sound asleep. Smiling, caught in a very nice dream involving Samantha Carter and a bubble bath when a strident knocking interrupted. He ignored it, shoving the pillow over his head, trying to focus on the last images of Sam in a very low-cut pink sweater she was about to remove before joining him in the bubble bath. The knocking continued. "Go away!" he shouted, cursing to himself.
Moira smirked at the physicist's tone. "Rodney? Rodney, I need your help!" she called. Knocked again. "Rodney!" she snapped, trying to imitate John's strident tone.
"Go away! I...oh...wait...Moira?" Rodney got out of the bed. Stumbled to the door and opened it. Rubbed his eyes. "Moira? Are you okay?" His gaze took in her loose hair, green t-shirt and khaki slacks.
"Yes. I'm sorry, Rodney, to disturb you at this late hour but I need your help. I need you to send a data burst." She tried not to smirk at his appearance. Short hair sticking out at every angle. His messy gray t-shirt with the legend I'm With Genius and an arrow pointing up. A pair of white boxer shorts.
He blinked. "Huh? A data burst? At two in the morning? Where? To whom? Can't this wait until after breakfast?"
"No. Sorry. I need to send this ASAP. Through the, through the anomaly. To the colonel." She waited. Glanced up and down the hallway.
"The...whoa, whoa, no." He held up a hand. "No way, Moira. I can't."
"You mean you won't."
"I mean I won't," he agreed. "John will kill me. So no."
"Rodney! Please! I need you to help me with this! I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Vital! We need to send this message ASAP! It contains vital information about the Wraith and their DNA and their RNA and maybe even a way to find their breeding ground, the source to–"
"John will kill me," Rodney repeated sourly.
"So you can't do it. Fine, I'll just ask Radek to–"
"I can do it! I just...oh, very clever. Play to my vanity. Moira, John will kill me. He will–"
"Rodney, please!" Moira touched her abdomen a moment. Luring his eyes there briefly. "I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important for both of our realities. They are fighting for their lives in that reality. The colonel. The other Rodney McKay. Please. I've gone as far as I can in this, and their biologists can go farther, since they are more advanced. Please." She touched his arm.
He hesitated. Saw the sincerity in her brown eyes. The depth of emotion, of the rich brown color tinted with flecks of gold. Saw how John had fallen so utterly under her spell. The subtle touch of her abdomen reminding him she might be carrying John's child. John's wife, asking for help. Even though he knew John would have strenuous objections. "Fine. Give me a minute to put on some pants."
"Yes, please do," she smiled. He scowled at her, retreated to his room.
Moira waited. Glancing up and down the hallway. Clutching the flash drive like a talisman, a charm. She relaxed as Rodney joined her, tan pants and shoes covering his skinny legs and feet.
"Thank you, Rodney."
"Don't thank me yet. I trust you'll put a good word in at my execution?" he quipped as they hastened to the control room.
John stirred. Rolled. Reaching, reaching. Fingers grasping empty blankets. He opened his eyes. Instantly awake as the absence of Moira struck him. "Moy?" He sat. Looking round the empty room. Listened. Heard nothing but the sound of the waves whispering from the pier. He sighed. Got out of the bed and crossed to his room. Wondering where she had gone.
He dressed quickly, checked his holster as a thought surfaced. But the gun was still there. He relaxed. Not putting it past her to approach Susan, gun in hand again. He debated. Debated. Finally left his room and strolled the corridors. The bio lab was empty. All of the computers powered down. Screens blank. Microscopes abandoned. Books were piled onto one desk. Curious, John approached. Perused the titles, ranging from paleontology to genetics to sociology. He shook his head.
The cafeteria was deserted as well. Quiet, except for the humming of the refrigeration units. He paused, half tempted to grab a beer, but decided against it as a slight tingle in his head reminded him of the awful hangover he had experienced. He exited. Nodded at a marine. The city was peaceful at this hour. The sounds of the ocean all around. Dim lights reflecting off the blue walls and the bubbling water decorations.
He finally strolled into the control room, expecting it be vacant at this hour. But it wasn't. Two people sat side by side, each working on a computer. He neared quietly, scowling.
Rodney was sitting at a console, the amber glow bathing him as he typed. "Okay."
Moira sat next to him, at a similar console. "Just a sec. I want to be sure I have this translation right. Okay. Transferring to yours now. How long will the compression take?"
"Only a few seconds. What the hell? Is that more Gaelic?" Rodney asked, staring as the language filled his screen. Before he typed a command and began to encode it.
"Yes. Just in case. Use the same encryptions he did."
"Yes, I figured as much."
"Transmit."
"Belay that."
Moira looked over, gasping. Rodney nearly jumped out of his chair, fingers hovering over the keyboard. John's quiet, stern voice breaking in on them like a shout in the deserted room. "Um, John, we...I..."
"No. Wasn't I clear, Moira?" he asked, moving to her. "I said no. No! Rodney, delete all that data and do not transmit."
"John! Rodney, wait!" She turned to her irate husband. He looked delicious. Hair wild. Black t-shirt and gray running pants rumpled. Jaw shadowed by stubble. He was angry, but so sexy. "John, please. This is vital information. About the Wraith. Here and there. He needs this, John. He sent us a warning, remember? At the very least we can return the favor. Do this."
"You. He sent a warning to you. For you," John corrected quietly. "I said no. Rodney, delete that data and do not transmit–"
"No! Rodney, wait!"
Rodney's fingers were frozen above the keyboard still, as he looked from one to the other.
"Rodney, I gave you a direct–"
"So did I. John, please! Look. I'll let you read the entire message. The translation, in full. See?" She brought it up on her screen. "It's all about the Wraith, the DNA, the RNA, the proteins. Vital information. Migratory patterns that might lead to the breeding ground, remember? He needs this, John, even more than we do. Read!"
He smirked a moment at her imperious tone. Stepped behind her. Rested a hand on her shoulder as he scanned the data. The science filling his head, blurring with words and familiar concepts she had presented before. But some things were new, and he realized she would have to explain it to him later. He scanned it again. Frowned. Fingers firm on her shoulder. "Take care."
"What? Oh." She felt a blush at the last two words. The harmless salutation that was not quite as harmless as she had believed, judging by the way John's fingers momentarily tightened on her shoulder. His step closer to the back of her chair. "It's nothing, John. Please. You can see the importance of this. Rodney, tell him."
"Oh no. I'm not getting into the middle of this!" Rodney refused. He sat back, flexed his fingers. "I'll just wait until you reach a mutual decision. Do I have time for a snack?"
"No!" they both flared, eyed each other.
"Delete that." John was determined. Insistent.
"No," she refused. Stubborn. Turned back to the screen. "John, please. He needs this information. I can't do more, but their advanced science can. It's just a note slipped under the door. That's all. He needs this, John. He has lost so much. He...he has nothing. Nothing now, but this. This fight for survival."
"And whose fault was that? His. He lost his Moira. He lost his city. It has nothing to do with us, Moira. Not a damn thing! We are done with that reality once and for all!"
"Even so, John...he did send us a warning. We can at least do the same. Nothing more."
"And then what? He'll send another, and then you will, and soon you two will be the best of penpals? Hell no!"
"No," she agreed, voice a soft calm to his rising anger. The current of jealousy underneath. "He won't send one. Nor will I. I don't want to contact him again," she assured. "You, you have to trust me, John. Please."
He considered, meeting her gaze as she turned in the chair to look at him. Steeled himself against the emotion in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Moira, but no. I can't risk it. I don't want any contact with that reality. With him. As much as I might be slightly sympathetic to his situation, I won't risk our world for his."
She took his hand. Caressed his fingers. "John, please. He has nothing. You...you have everything. You have the city. You, you have me." She placed his hand on her abdomen as she turned back to the computer screen. A blush coloring her cheeks. "You, you have this...if not now you will eventually so, so...please, John. Please." She waited, but he was silent. "Rodney, transmit."
"John?" Rodney asked.
John was gently pressing his hand against Moira's abdomen, as if he could feel if there was a baby there. A new life they had created from their passion, their love. A baby they hadn't planned, but might be there nonetheless. A baby he would welcome. Suddenly realized he wanted more than anything. A family with Moira. "Transmit," he finally said, voice low. Solemn. Fingers slightly caressing her.
Rodney nodded. "Transmitted data burst...and three two one...there. Anomaly is closed. No energy spikes of any kind."
"Thank you, Rodney," Moira said. Her hand still resting on his on her abdomen. "Thank you, John. It was...it was the right thing to do."
"Yeah...maybe. I did it for you, Moira. You." He had realized she was right. Unlike his darker counterpart he did indeed have everything. He had the city. Atlantis was safe, strong. Defensible. His friends and colleagues alive and thriving in the city, in the Pegasus galaxy.
He had Moira. His wife, his lover. His Moira. Despite all they had endured they were still together. Despite their dark, tragic pasts and the mistakes each had made. Their love was strong. Their passion stronger. And nothing would ever change that. Nothing.
He might even have a child on the way. His child. Hers. The thought was staggering and exhilarating all at once. He knew one thing for certain.
Nothing would ever endanger their child. Nothing.