Trials of Womanhood, part 2
A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated and I'm really sorry this is so short. I promise, more, longer chapters soon!
The miners were back. They had set up base camp in her head, and had invited some clumsy knitters to live in her ears, where they made her ears feel fuzzy with their yarn and repeatedly stabbed her with their knitting needles.
A contingent of miners had been sent to excavate her belly and her back, and they had brought along their welder friends.
Mairghread hated those miners.
Which was why she was swimming in one of Atlantis' artificial tide pools at midnight, with the mortified Sgts. Kafka and Kierkegaard furiously studying the floor, walls, stars, anywhere but the pool.
Maybe they would be less embarrassed if she were wearing something?
She really didn't understand the humans reticence to show their bodies—what could one possibly have that another didn't have or hadn't seen before?
She floated contentedly on her back, letting the ocean wash away the dark blood that flowed out of her body. For once, the Ancients had done something right in designing these pools.
"Mary, you are getting out soon, yes?" Kafka asked, sounding slightly desperate.
"No," she replied and dove under the water. Only when she was swimming did she get any relief. And right now, she was desperately craving relief. Two weeks. Two long, painful, bloody, messy weeks. Three years worth of 'periods' in fourteen days. And no end in sight.
She was thirteen or fourteen now. Her feeding slit had fully formed, but the hunger hadn't come. She simply had to eat more than a human her size, still a frustratingly small 4 foot, nine inches and scantily 90 pounds.
The bleeding would hopefully slow when she reached 18 or so, and actually become a cycle instead of a constant when she was 30 or so.
An eternity, as far as she was concerned.
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"Elizabeth, Woolsey's coming back," Sheppard announced as he bounced into her office.
Dr. Weir looked up from her mountains of paperwork. "Woolsey himself?"
"Yep. General O'Neill too."
"How are they both spending so much time away from earth?"
John shrugged. "Apparently, the IOA is split on who to believe, so they sent them both back."
"Hmm, kinda like 'return to sender'?" Rodney's voice clunked over the intercom.
"Rodney?" Elizabeth and John looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Well, Colonel, if you leave your com open—"
TBC
Next: The Return of the Woolsey