~ 3 ~

Ronon catches me in the hallway as I leave Dr. H's office. He's all manly man grabbing me by the arm and pulling me toward the transporter. "What the hell?" But he just grunts and pulls me along. We reach his room quickly enough and he pushes me toward the bed to sit.

I'm already tired from skating, not to forget my previous strenuous workout, plus I'm not so thrilled about Dr. H's insights into my psychosis today. She's far too perceptive. I don't like that in people, generally.

And I have a headache from hell, threatening to explode in my brain, leaving me a vegetable. But Ronon doesn't seem to notice. He wants to rant…or beat the crap out of me…whatever's faster. He gets like this when I don't tell him stuff and he has to find out on his own. He doesn't like secrets.

I sigh and fold my arms, by-passing the bed to lean against the wall nearest the bathroom, waiting for him to stop tossing his mane around like an aggravated lion. He snaps his attention to me and I swear his head might go flying about the room like a basketball. "Tell me it's not true."

I roll my eyes and shrug then heave a big sigh. "Okay. It's not true."

He grunts and growls, stomping in place. "You're lying."

"About what?"

"You and Sheppard!"

My brain hurts so much I can't even concentrate on how to get out of this, so playing dumb is the only way to go. "What about me and Sheppard?"

"Don't make me say it."

I push away from the wall and try to make it to the door. "Okay." But he's instantly in front of me, blocking the exit.

"I made a promise to Jack."

I don't face him, but I do dart my eyes up and over, locking onto his. "What kind of promise." I can growl just as bad as he does sometimes.

His hand rests on the back of my head and he gently tugs on my ponytail. "To not let you get hurt."

I face him now, releasing my arms and spreading them in one motion. "I'm fine. Don't I look fine?"

"You look like animal dung."

That deserves an elbow to the gut, but I seriously don't have the energy, so I just glare. "What's the rumor this week?"

He crosses his arms and leans against the door. "No rumor. I'm observant." He pauses and I wait. "You've been avoiding him."

My brows pretty much knit together. "No I haven't."

"Whenever he comes into a room you're in, you leave. If he's in the room you're about to come in, you leave."

"Aren't you in those rooms too?" I raise my brow in a challenge.

His eyes narrow. "Yeah." I slide my chin to the side. But he's not buying. "No. No. It's him. He did something to you. Didn't he."

Crap! Now that you mention it big guy, yeah, he did something several times to me…all of them so goddamn memorable I can't function when he's in the same vicinity. Not that I'm about to spill all that to someone who can rip people's arms off. "He didn't do anything. I'm not avoiding him. I'm not avoiding anyone. I'm…busy."

Ronon cups my chin in one ginormous hand and tilts my head so he can stare down at me. "I know you're lying. Don't make me ask him. Because you know I will…and I won't be nice about it either."

"Gawd!" I swipe his hand away and sit on the edge of the bed clutching my head in my hands. "I so don't need this right now." I push my fingers through my hair, pulling out the band holding it. "I just want to take a shower."

"Tell me and you can leave."

"Why is it so important to you?"

Ronon kneels in front of me and again lifts my chin so our eyes meet. His intensity is clouded with worry. That's not right. He's not supposed to do that…not ever. That triggers guilt and I have no intention of feeling guilty about anything. "I want to make sure you're all right. If you tell me the truth, I'll believe you. And I won't have to do any damage to…someone."

That is so sweet. Here's Tarzan waiting for permission to pummel someone for taking advantage of me. All I can do is smile and shake my head at him. "I love you." It tumbles out in a giggle, but still tumbles out easily, which is so weird. But it is true. I do adore this massive house of a man. "It's all good, Ronon. I swear."

"You're sure."

I smile again and get up. He stands as well and I wrap my arms around his middle and give him a tight squeeze. "Positive." I pull back enough to strain my neck and look him in the face. "No injuries required. In fact, I'd prefer that."

Ronon kisses my forehead and chuckles. "Wow…you really do need a shower."

I push away from him and he keys the door crystal. As I step out into the corridor, I glance back over my shoulder. He still looks worried so I smile again. "Hey," I say softly. "Don't you know happy when you see it?"

He huffs and shakes his head slightly, his eyes looking out from under heavy brows. "That's why I'm so worried."

I throw a mock glare at him then roll my eyes. "I can never win!" Then I head for the transporter that will whisk me toward my own room and long needed scrub down.

So, it took four days for me to get back to normal, four days for Ronon to figure out that something happened between me and his boss…and the same four days for Sheppard's theory to crash and burn.

When I open my door, he's lying on my bed, wearing the black T-shirt of humina-humina-humina and jeans of oh boy, hands clasped behind his head, and the dimples of utter destruction doing their worst. All I can do is sigh, roll my eyes and shake my head as I peel off my smelly T-shirt and drag myself into the bathroom.

I strip down and turn on the shower, letting the water run over my fingers to make sure it's hot enough. I glance back; he's leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes eating me alive…but no smile.

"Well?" I raise my brows and his eyes catch mine. "You gonna scrub my back or not?" Then I step into the shower.

Minutes later, John's gloriously naked, standing behind me. He lifts my arms overhead one then the other and ever so gently wipes the wash cloth over my skin. At the same time, his free hand's sliding over my slick wet belly, creating bubbles from the soap. This is much better than what I was expecting earlier.

As he joined me in the shower, he took the cloth out of my hand and simply said, "Let me." So I did. Who'm I to debate such a demand. I mean, really. He's taking his time, intent on the job at hand, not even making an attempt at seduction yet. Though, there's not much point in something like that…I'm obviously a sure thing.

Yep, Slutsville here I come. Oooh, nice play on words. I giggle at my internal joke and John stops his task of washing my shoulders and the back of my neck. "What's so funny?"

"My little voice."

He leans down and licks the rim of my ear. The feel of his tongue sends a shiver down my spine. "You hear voices?"

"Just one." I turn my head slightly, catching his gaze. "What? You didn't know that I'm crazy?"

"Hot, yes," he nips my earlobe. "Crazy…not so much." He starts caressing my back with the cloth again. "So, what does this little voice have to say?"

I giggle again. "It's an inside joke. Very inside." I am such a loon; I can't believe he hasn't noticed.

"Ahh."

"You're not scared, are you?"

His mouth hovers next to my ear again. "Scared about what?"

"That I'm crazy."

"Terrified." He kisses the sweet spot just under my ear behind my jaw, making my nerves tingle to my toes and I shiver again. The cloth moves lower, slowly caressing every inch of my back. He stops in mid-swipe on my lower back and his fingers glide over one of my many still tender bruises along my side…then finds another. Grasping my shoulders, he gently turns me to face him, pulling me close, trapping my arms against his chest. "Did I do that?" he asks; eyes full of fierce concern.

"You didn't hear about my not so elegant ice encounter?"

He smiles lightly. "I heard you fell…didn't know it was so bad."

"Not so bad. Just bruises." Then I grin at him. "Found something to take the pain away that same night."

He arches a single brow. "Really?"

My fingertips glide over his chest. "Mmm hmm. A very powerful analgesic." I raise my gaze to his. "Who knew it even existed."

"So. No more pain?"

"Actually," I pout a little, focusing my attention on his wet chest hair. "I do have a nasty headache." Then I look up at him again. His face falls with disappointment. "Wanna make it go away?" I figure that's enough incentive and I'm right on target.

The first kiss is slow, tender and lasts for what seems like hours, though I have no concept of time when he's nearby. As the hot water pulses against my shoulders, I slip my hands around his neck and he pulls me closer, sliding his arms around my waist, lifting me to my toes.

Given our Olympic workout the last time, I'm all for a slow burn and that seems to be exactly what John has in mind. And though I did label him a manly man last time, he's of a rare breed, concerning himself with my pleasure above all else. I could so get used to this attention to detail.

Later just having finished round two, still locked together, we lie facing each other on my bed, my right leg dangling over his hip. His fingertips skim over my arm as I gently tease his spiky hair. "So, I guess my theory didn't hold."

I laugh a little. "Guess not."

He locks his eyes on mine. "Are you okay?"

"You mean in general or with our situation?"

"Both, I guess."

"I'm good. You?"

He grins, exposing the dimples. "Do you have to ask?"

"You did."

"Yeah…but…"

Oh, no he's not. He's gonna pull the, 'but I'm a guy and this is what guys do and women are too nurturing and needy,' blah blah blah. Geez, sometimes men just need a serious head slap. "John?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not naïve. I knew exactly what you were offering that first night. No strings. No complications." As in no pesky emotions, dear boy. He is just the cutest thing ever! Look at those puppy eyes.

"And you're okay with that?" His thumb slides over my bottom lip and I catch it in my mouth, playing my tongue over the tip, pulling a quiet groan from him. A moment later, he's kissing me, our tongues battling for supremacy.

I repeatedly tighten and release my muscles around him until he breaks the kiss with a gasp. He starts growing inside me and I push him onto his back, lying on top of him, still messing with him as gently as possible…for the moment. "If I wasn't…you'd probably be dead now."

His eyes widen considerably even as they start to roll back in his head from my internal massage. "Dead?"

"Mmm hmm." I bury my face in his neck, kissing his pulsing artery, nipping at his skin. "Ronon knows."

John's hands grip my shoulders and he pushes me up. There's slight panic in his eyes. "Knows knows or thinks he knows?" I smirk and plant a kiss on his pouty lips. He pushes me up again. "No, seriously…what does he know?"

I rest my arm on his chest, chin on the back of my hand and simply gaze at him as my right hand plays at his unruly hair. I search his face with my eyes, drinking in his beauty. Then I grab his gaze and hold it. "That I'm happy…as is."

"So…we're friends with benefits."

My brows crease and I stick out my bottom lip, which his eyes immediately drift to. "I'm not so sure we're even that."

"No?"

"Let's face it. We're barely acquaintances."

"Naked acquaintances."

I flash a sly grin. "Just a couple of sluts bound to bang into each other on occasion." And then I kiss him, still working my below the belt magic and he moans. His arms circle around my back, hugging me close. After a moment, I break the kiss, but not the massage. "This should've been broached last time…but…I got…hmm, distracted."

"Really? By what I wonder."

That makes me laugh. "Well…um…strictly for my personal health… you don't happen to have any other naked friends or acquaintances…do you?"

John grins, flashing his dimples. "Well, as the slut of Atlantis…ahh what the hell are you doing?"

I tightened my grip on him. See, all those exercises and stretches do come in handy. Good muscle manipulation is so important in everything one does. Relax then tighten again. "Looking for an honest answer." Throw in a flutter to drive him crazy.

He groans deep in his chest. "Well, damn…" He trembles slightly. "You're not gonna get any if you keep doing that."

Lifting myself up, I rub firmly against him and he moves within me, increasing his arousal. I catch his eyes, grinning wickedly. "So?"

"Not at this time. No." He chuckles a gasp. "I'd never have the energy."

"Yeah. Me neither."

Grinning, he rolls me under him, pressing me into the bed with his body and attacking my mouth as if I've just downed the last beer in the galaxy.

So the latest encounter with Sheppard…hot shower sex…more hot bed sex…even more hot bed sex…not much else to mention except that we 'defined' our 'relationship' if it can be called that. Basically we bump uglies whenever we feel the urge. It's a dirty job…but he's so damn hot… and yes, I'm that pathetic.

Please, I'm making up for lost time here! Love the id girl and her priorities.

It's strictly lust and passion. He's just so damn pretty, I still think he should be illegal. Oooh, an illegal booty call, that sounds really hot!

We don't socialize in the city and rarely see each other on a day-to-day basis since I've got my massage therapy thing and he's off-world or discovering new and exciting Atlantis secrets as part of his daily job. It's a naked thing we do to fill a need. There's nothing wrong with that. He certainly has a stressful job and needs some way to relax. And he's very good at relaxing.

I know he's in love with Dr. Weir, as Jax continuously reminds me. I'm not an idiot. And someday the woman is going to wake up and smell the hotty. Oh, he does smell nice. Anyway, when that day comes, I'll throw him down on the bed and screw him blind. Then I'll send him off to the lovely lady as if he's a candy gram and wish them all the best.

I know I'll miss his talents when he's gone, but until that day comes, I've always liked Jell-O.

Still. I'm rooting for real clones one day, because every woman should know the unbelievable bliss that is John Sheppard.

~ 3.5 ~

"It's like I'm there all over again, but this time…" Words seem to fail her and she shakes her head sadly.

Kate waits patiently, giving Angela time to consider her thoughts. She's slightly more open today, far more than the past two sessions. It's been a tough month with her. She's been more closed-off than ever, but at the same time, seemingly happier. Or at least content.

Every once in a while, she gets a wistful smile and shivers ever so slightly. Though she doesn't talk about it, Kate assumes the change is because of the non-boyfriend. It's plainly obvious the one-night-stand didn't stop at the one night and has been continuing for a few weeks now.

Today's conversation, however, is restricted to one topic: her recent nightmare, which has obviously disturbed her a great deal. This is actually a good sign. Kate's been waiting for her to open up more about her subconscious fears. Angela admitted that it's not the first time she's had this particular dream. In fact, she's woken up weeping on several occasions in the past month because of it.

"They talk to me," she says quietly, her hands fidgeting in her lap, eyes downcast.

Kate waits again, but it's clear she's not planning on elaborating without some prompting. "What do they say?"

Her head shakes gently. "That's the problem." She looks up at Kate, her eyes filled with confusion. "I can't hear it." She presses her hand to her heart. "I know it's important. I feel it's important. But it's all muffled by the gun shots. By Tony laughing at me."

"He's laughing?"

She nods, her voice bland. "He wasn't the most sensitive guy, doc. It's just my bad luck he was also a lousy shot."

"You really believe that, Angela? That you were the unlucky one?"

Her eyes slide to her twitching fingers. "Sometimes. Hell, most of the time." She darts out of the chair and paces off some energy. "Look, I know I'm feeling sorry for myself. I've gotten real good at it over time." She tosses her head back. "Gawd! I hate this. I just…want…"

Kate waits, but gets nothing further. "What? What do you want?"

Angela drops her cold gaze to the doctor and Kate can feel Jax has joined the discussion, effectively shutting it down. "A shower."

"I don't believe that's what you were planning on saying. Try again."

Her eyes narrow and she turns to the window, staring out over the water. She does this to avoid confrontation, with Kate…with herself. After a few moments, she sighs. "I get the feeling they're trying to give me the answers to the universe or something." She looks back at Kate and grins sheepishly. "But someone doesn't want me to hear it."

"Someone. You mean a higher power?"

Angela shrugs. "Maybe."

"Or," Kate starts slowly. "You aren't ready to hear it."

"That's ridiculous. It's my dream."

"Exactly." Kate tilts her head, wondering if this is a good time to broach the subject again. "We could always try hyp-"

"No."

"It is an effective-"

"I said no." Her arms cross protectively around her and she turns back to the window. Kate gives her a few minutes to calm down. Angela will start talking again as soon as she's reigned in her anger. Though it is the one emotion she does show, it's still under heavy security.

"They died instantly. No talking. Just…gone. I couldn't even say…" She shudders. "Sometimes I think I hear my dad's voice. How weird is that?"

"Not weird. Natural, actually."

She turns; her face full of skepticism. "I highly doubt that."

"What does he say?"

Her brows wrinkle. "My name. He's calling to me…like it's dinnertime."

"How does it make you feel…hearing that?"

Her eyes get a far-off glaze and the tiniest smile lifts one corner of her mouth. "Safe." In a split-second the look is gone and she voluntarily shakes her whole body. "Well, that was melodramatic of me."

"Not at all."

Angela rolls her eyes and sneers, obviously amused by Kate's indefatigable understanding. "Don't you get sick of it?"

"Of what?" Kate asks.

"All the bitching? The whining? I could never do your job. I'd go even more crazy."

Kate chuckles. "You're not crazy, Angie. Full of turmoil, denial, steeped in depression, maybe… but not crazy."

Angela turns to the window again. "Damn," she sounds disappointed.

"What?"

She shrugs a shoulder. "I was kinda hopin' for crazy. It'd explain a lot." She shivers, this time involuntarily and a blush creeps up her neck. Angela peeks over her shoulder at Kate then quickly looks back out the window.

"How's that casual fling going, by the way?"

Angela slowly turns her head, staring down the doctor with a gaze full of awe. "How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Know exactly when I'm thinking about…him?"

Kate smiles. "You don't make it difficult. You may not realize this, but you embarrass easily."

"I'm not embarrassed."

"Maybe not consciously. But sub-consciously…you blush very quickly when you think about that…topic."

She's surprised by this. "Yeah?"

Kate nods. "I think I know why, too."

"Really? Impress me, Dr. H."

"It seems whenever you think of him…you get a memory of something…pleasurable."

Angela clenches her teeth, working her jaw. "Hmm," is all she says, but her eyes narrow as she looks at Kate.

"Is it part of your gift?" Kate asks.

She licks her lips, deciding what to share. With a tilt of her head, she smiles coyly. "Let's just say, my program's been…upgraded slightly."

"Really. How so?"

"Alien intervention."

"I see. That must have been a difficult time for you. Losing control like that."

She raises a brow. "I don't remember much."

"I'm surprised."

She nods and sniffs. "Join the club." Then she waves a hand. "I'm over it. And God help McKay if he tries to pull something like that on me again."

"What do you mean?"

"He'd better know exactly what it is I'm activating before I lay a finger on it or I will kill him." For a moment there, Kate is certain Angela means that literally. Then the smirk reappears and the young woman returns to her chair. "So, how's your sex life, doc?"

"This session isn't about me."

"C'mon," she whines a little. "Fair's fair. Let me see you blush."

Kate shakes her head. "Angela."

"Radek," she says suddenly, grinning coyly. Kate's heart rate increases without her consent and her cheeks get warm. Angela's grin grows. "Gotcha."

"Very funny." Kate shifts in her chair. "So…I take it your one-time thing has continued?"

"We're calling it naked acquaintances."

"Isn't the term friends with benefits?"

Angela huffs. "We don't know each other that well."

"I see." Kate watches her. "So if you're not friends, how did this happen?"

"It was…" she smirks sideways. "Unexpected." She sighs heavily and consciously shakes her body again. "Damn. It's more of a curse, you know. Sometimes, it's good to forget. Makes life easier. Not so…"

"What?" Kate asks, though she's pretty sure she knows; she wants Angela to voice her concerns, give in to any emotion that she might have.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I can still smell his aftershave." She swallows. "He doesn't have to be in the damn room and yet…he's here! It's…" Her head drops into her hands and she rubs her face. "Giving me a headache."

"How long since you were last together?"

"Five days."

"Have you talked to him?"

Her jaw slides to the side. "Haven't seen him."

"Are you avoiding him? Or afraid he's avoiding you?"

She grins and shakes her head. "No. He's a busy man. And I'm not some…clingy type. It's a no strings policy. No complications. We agreed."

"And that doesn't bother you, even a little?"

"Why should it?"

"Because, Angela, it's not just a physical connection for women, there is emotion involved whether you want to admit it or not. It's nature's nasty trick on us. There are chemicals released, one in particular, that makes it almost impossible for a woman not to become attached. It's the same as when a woman gives birth-"

"Oh, well. I must not have that."

"All women have it. It's in the brain."

"Look, doc. I'm not exactly the poster girl for sanity. That means there must be something different about me…maybe it's chemical. Whatever. I don't get all…cuddly with people. Attachment's over-rated anyway." She chews on her lip. "Gets people killed."

"I thought you were past that."

Angela rolls her eyes. "Past what?"

"Believing you curse people with your love."

"I must be. Told Ronon I love him. Told Jack. And they're both still upright and alive." She shrugs. "So I'm not a curse. Doesn't make romance a good idea."

Kate watches her closely. "So you're determined not the let John…" Oops. Kate realizes her mistake instantly and tries to backtrack. "This man-"

But Angela holds up a hand and her eyes blaze with fury. "Hold it! You couldn't possibly have just guessed."

Kate sighs and leans in. "Actually, I did. An educated guess, but…it made sense."

Angela shakes her head. "How…what'd you do, just pull his name out of your ass?"

"I read Dr. Beckett's report about the pheromone incident."

Her brows crease and her eyes widen. "What?"

Kate leans in again. "As your doctor, it's my duty to know exactly what you have been through, whether you want to discuss it or not. He clearly indicated that you and Col. Sheppard-"

Her head shakes quickly. "He wasn't there."

"But the report…you two paired off."

"I don't care about the damn report." Her eyes are cool and hard. "Col. Sheppard wasn't there."

It takes a moment for Kate to realize exactly what Angela's saying. The Colonel wasn't there… but John was. She obviously distinguishes between the two. Very interesting…and telling in a way. Must come back to that later.

"So...John and you-"

Angela huffs in surprise and disgust, shaking her head, then dropping it into her hands again and groaning. "This is so unfair!"

"It's also confidential, Angela. No one is going to find out." She waits a moment. "But you do need to confront the issue at hand. Clearly you've been attracted to the man for quite a while. And from what I've seen in your behavior when he's returned from a mission even slightly injured…it's not simply physical. You obviously have feelings for him."

She holds up a hand. "Not feelings, feelings. Feelings…as in…pleasure."

Kate nods. "But you have to understand something. Pleasure is tied to emotions. And no matter how hard you try to block yours, you still have them deep down. You need to let yourself experience them as well. It's understandable that you're afraid-"

She gets out of the chair and stomps to the door. "I'm not afraid of anything!" And then she's gone.

Kate sighs heavily. "Well, that could have gone better."