Hello Darkness, My Old Friend12

Moira woke. "John?" She sat. Kissed her son who was fast asleep. She heard water running. The shower. She smiled. Got out of the bed. Moved into the bathroom. She stared through the curtain. John was naked, drenched in water and suds. Rubbing the loofah over his long, lean body. Brisk motions, efficient. Suds sparkled in his dark chest hair, his arm hair. The hair on his legs. The hair between his legs until the loofah blocked her view. Moira bit her lower lip. Feeling a surge of lust for him. Desire.

She opened the curtain slowly. Staring as he flexed his muscles. His back. Bare buttocks clenching. Hair plastered to his head. Expression on his handsome face serious. She smirked, seeing where the loofah lingered. "Getting off without me, sweetie?"

"Shit!" John exclaimed, suds spurting as he squeezed the loofah, almost dropping it. He looked over to see her sensual stare. Smiled. "Care to join me, baby?"

She smiled. "Fuck, John. You are so gorgeous."

"I like that. Fuck John. Is that a suggestion or a comment?"

"Both."

He grinned. Brilliant green eyes sparkling. "Are you going to stand there all day, baby, or what was it? Oh. Yeah. Fuck John."

She smiled. Stripped off her pajamas. Stepped into the shower. Moaned as the hot water caressed, soothed. John groaned, staring as she became drenched. She took the loofah from him. Ran it over his chest, his arms. Kissed him, tongue darting to play. She nibbled his throat, bit his ear. He groaned in a rush of arousal. She roughly, roughly scraped the loofah over his waist, then his cock. Then his thighs. Then his balls, making him shift his stance. She dropped the loofah and replaced it with her hands. Stroking him now, rinsing off the suds. He was already stiff, jerking to life at her touch. Her nails ran up and down the hard length of him.

"Moira," he growled, a sound low in his throat as he fully erect now. Helpless in her hands. Throbbing. Staring as the water spilled along her straggling hair. Along her breasts and hard, rosy nipples. Along her hips. Between her legs. She moved to her knees in front of him. She ran her mouth along his thigh, teasing bites. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he breathed, moving in response. His fingers tangling in her wet hair, sliding on her shoulders as she ran her mouth along his cock now. Nibbling to make him moan, tense. She took him into her mouth and sucked, swirled her tongue. Inch by inch as she worked her way up, then down.

John groaned loudly, an almost animalistic sound. Her mouth hot, wet, closing tightly on him. The sight of her taking him like this, on her knees, submissive. But actually in complete control of him. Naked body drenched with water he longed to lick, to taste. Lust was coursing, making him jerk in her mouth. His balls aching with need. But he steeled himself. "No." His voice was little more than a growl, inarticulate. He swallowed. Felt a shiver as she was running her teeth now up to the head. "Fuck! No, Moira, no!" He freed her hair. Gently pushed her back with an effort. The orgasm was starting in a wave of pleasure, causing him to spurt a little.

Moira slid back. He stared as he slid out of her mouth and he jerked again. Water spilling all over them, around them. She looked up at him, brown eyes wide. Rosy lips wet. She flicked her tongue over them. "John?"

He almost whimpered with need at the sight. "Did you?" He swallowed. Voice gruff. He hauled her roughly to her feet. Fingers tight on her bare arms. "Did you go down on him?"

"No. Never," she assured. Understanding his reluctance now. Even as his engorged cock strained to be in her again. She touched his chest, his waist. Gently stroking, as if to soothe a wild animal.

"Did he ever go down on you?"

"No. It wasn't like that, John."

"No? He didn't go down on you?" His gaze raked across her body. Stared hard between her legs. He could smell her arousal. Could almost taste it on his tongue. Almost. Could imagine the snug heat and he shivered. "He didn't suck that fucking sweetness? Not once?" he asked hoarsely. Not quite believing her.

"No, John. It wasn't like that." She stepped closer. Fingers playing on his chest again. "John? Only, only you, John. Only you."

He relaxed. Pulled her into a lengthy kiss. Tongue probing. She melted against him. Yielding. He shut off the water. Spun them round and pinned her to the wall. Thrust into her. She gasped, whimpered. Gyrating as he thrust hard, deep. Quickly as he rocked her, sliding her up and down the wet wall. The tiles were slick and Moira couldn't find any purchase on them so she grabbed his arms. Feet slipping and sliding now as he groaned, swore, took her hard and fast. He was pounding into the wall now but paused. Grabbed her rear and squeezed. Squeezed hard to make her yelp and he grinned. Resumed thrusting eagerly with a moan.

Moira arched. He had complete control of her now. Lifting her, pounding her up and down the slick wall. The pleasure was wild, angling all over, all through her. She cried out, calling his name in a crescendo of passion as the orgasms rolled in her. He kissed her. Mouthed her breasts and sucked, nibbled to make her squirm, whimper. Her fingers tightened on his arms but he didn't care, relished it, relished all of it as she came and he followed right after her.

"Mine! All. Fucking. Mine!" he snarled, punctuating each word with a thrust. He fell against her, easing her down so her feet were on the tub again. He slid out of her. Pressed to her as he caught his breath. Calming after the shuddering orgasm. Moira stroked his wet back. Ran gentle kisses up his throat.

"Easy, John, easy," she soothed. Voice soft. "My John. Only you, John. Only you," she soothed. Clung to him suddenly.

He kissed her. Stepped back but lifted her. Carried her out of the bathtub. Set her gently onto her feet and kept kissing her. He stepped back, grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around both of them, keeping their bodies pressed together. "Fuck, baby. I can't get enough of you right now. I...I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, John. You were wonderful," she purred. "I love you, John." She kissed him, hugged him.

He held her close, rubbing the towel along both of them. "My Moira. Fuck that was hot."

"And wet." She giggled against his skin. He smiled. "Oh John."

"Is junior asleep?"

"Yes. You...what?" She stared down as his smile broadened. "Damn, colonel, your ordnance certainly isn't."

"Yeah, well..pert little ass, baby. All the fucking way, in ten. No, six."

"Mommy! Mommy, mommy! Daddy, daddy!"

"Crap. You said he was asleep!" John complained. Moira shrugged. John sighed. "Just a sec, buddy!" He kissed her. Dropped the towel to the floor and quickly dressed. Moira pulled on her pajamas. He glanced at her, opened the door. "Hey, captain."

"Hi daddy! I'm hungry!"

"Again? How often do we need to feed you, buddy?" The child laughed. John smiled. "Okay. Let's get you dressed first." He took the little boy's hand, guided him towards his room.

"Mommy!"

"Morning, darling. Go get dressed and then we can have breakfast." She moved to the dresser and pulled out some clothes. "What do you want, darling?"

"Pizza and beer!"

John laughed. "Yeah! Sounds good to me, sport!"

"Hilarious, John. How about some waffles?"

"No, mommy. I want cerel. Daddy, daddy, say here cerel?"

"No, we don't need to stay in here today and have cereal. We can have a proper meal. Waffles for you, buddy. Let's go."

"Okay, daddy. Daddy, daddy, I wanna dress like daddy. I wanna waffles. I wanna go see city light to see the blink thing, okay? Daddy, daddy mommy is home now! Mommy said hang pictures on wall! Mommy said we hang pictures on wall! Mommy color with me! Daddy, daddy, mommy home now!"

Moira smiled as her son was talking all the while, leading his father into his room. Sounding normal. Happy. Himself. She moved to the bathroom to quickly dress. But still felt uneasy. Reluctant to leave the room and face everyone.

Moira found it odd to be back in Atlantis. Her Atlantis. Something was off and she couldn't put her finger on it. She looked round as Johnny led her to the cafeteria, chattering all the while how the city was better, how he and daddy and Uncle Rod had fixed it, make it all better. Fixed the boo-boos and made the city sing once more. Made the city like daddy a lot now and how the city was happy to be whole again.

It was quiet. A hush fell as they entered the cafeteria. John guided them towards a table in the back. Many smiled. Many averted their gazes. Armed men proliferated. Making her uneasy. Making the resemblance to that other, darker Atlantis all the more telling. Moira felt a shiver. "John?"

John touched her arm, hearing her worry. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. Johnny, stay with your mother."

"Daddy, daddy, I want waffles!" The little boy caught his father's leg, staring up at him.

John smiled. "Okay, buddy. Waffles it is." He ruffled the boy's hair.

"Daddy!" the boy complained.

John laughed. "Sorry, captain. Sit."

"Daddy, daddy, do I earpiece?"

"No, son. Stand down. Look after mommy. Code purple."

"Oh! Yay daddy, code pwurple!"

Moira stared at them, curious. Concerned. She sat as John moved to get their breakfast. Johnny climbed onto her lap. "Johnny, why do you need an earpiece?"

"So daddy can talk me."

"Oh. And what is code purple?"

"Mommy code pwurple. Mommy home now."

"And the other codes? The other colors?"

Johnny turned to see her. "Daddy say covert ops." As if that explained everything the boy changed topics. "Mommy, mommy, when we go to–"

"Hold on, darling. What do you mean, covert ops?"

"It...it not safe, mommy."

"Not safe? You are perfectly safe here, darling. Aren't you?" She looked round, uneasy. "Johnny? What isn't safe? The other men are gone now." But the child was silent. Cuddling against her.

"Moira."

She looked up as Rodney joined them. "Rodney. What's going on here?"

"Hi Uncle Rod!" Johnny smiled.

"Hey, kiddo! Moira, I'm so glad you are back. You have no idea. I mean you are safe here, don't worry about that. John made damn sure of that."

"The, the other men?"

Rodney nodded as their voices lowered. "Yes. Sent through the anomaly to their own reality." His gaze fell to the table. Before she could ask he continued. "And it's locked down tight now. No one will ever get through it, alive, at least. Moira," he met her gaze, "you have no idea how it's been around here. How hard it's been, for Johnny, of course. But for John...for John...he...doesn't trust anyone now. Well, only a few, but he's not the same. He was under constant surveillance from those men, from our own men. We both were."

"But still, even so, he–"

"I don't think I brought enough food," John jested. Set down two trays.

"Ha ha," Rodney commented.

"Here we go. Waffles and syrup and fruit for junior. Caramel chip pancakes for her highness here. For me, just an egg and bacon and toast."

"Caramel?" she asked, smiled.

He smiled. Sat next to Rodney, across from her. "Yeah. Caramel syrup too. Oh wait, that's for later, right?"

"John!" she scolded to his grin.

"Uncle Rod! Daddy and mommy had happy sounds three times! Three!" He held up three fingers for emphasis.

Moira spluttered, almost spitting up her orange juice. John smirked and laughed. Rodney sighed, grinned. "Really, kiddo? Wow. I'm surprised it was only three."

"Rodney!" Moira scolded. The men laughed at her consternation. Her sudden blush. "Johnny, we don't tell people that,"she admonished. Glared at her husband. "John Sheppard!"

"What?" he asked, gesturing, as if he had no idea. "It is true."

"You never should have told him that!"

"What? About our happy sounds? What would you have me call it, Moira? Hmm? Eat." He smiled at her. Raised a brow. Turned to his friend. "What's on the agenda?"

Rodney shrugged. "I'm monitoring but it still looks good. Secure. Woolsey will want a debrief of Moira's–"

"Hell no. Next?"

"Everyone's waiting for your next move."

"First Moira needs to get checked out, just as a precaution. Then–"

"Pleistocene Park, daddy," the little boy reminded round a mouthful of waffle.

"Yes, son. That's the plan."

"Wait, wait! What the heck is going on here?" Moira demanded. Eyed the two men.

"Nothing, sweetheart. Eat. I've got to write up some reports first and then we can–"

"No! John, what is wrong? This isn't right. None of this is right! What the hell are you teaching my son? Military codes?"

"I'm teaching our son how to survive, Moira," John answered.

"Mommy?"

"Easy, Moira, you're upsetting Johnny," John admonished.

"Then tell me what's going on here! Something isn't right! Look at you two! Like conspirators! I understand why you were that way before, but now? Now?"

"Moira, please, calm down. Eat something," Rodney encouraged.

"No!" She moved Johnny off her lap. Stood. Shoved the tray to the floor. Food spilled. The tray clattered noisily. "Stop telling me what to do! Stop talking about me like I'm not here! I am here! Why won't you tell me what's wrong here?" She glared at the two men. "Fine. Johnny, come here."

"No, wait. Moira, sit down, please," John stated.

"Give me my son!"

"Our son. Go on, Johnny."

The little boy looked from one to the other. Climbed off the chair and took his mother's hand. "Mommy? We go Pleistocene Park?" he asked, as she led him out of the cafeteria.

"No, Johnny."

"Yes, Johnny, as soon as we can," John countered, watching them leave.