Adaptation6
John found his voice. "Fuck,"he muttered happily. "Moira." He swallowed, trying to speak without the hoarse rasp in his throat. "I know what you're thinking. I've never done that with any of my lots, er, some women. Well, not exactly that. Only you, Moira. I had to have all of you...every single sweetness I had to possess, to take...my Moira."
Moira was silent. Her body a throbbing echo of pleasure. Her throat raw with her loud whimpers, her screaming cries. Breathless astonishment and amazement. And embarrassment. She pushed at him, but he was a dead weight on her. Still in her. "John..." she whispered.
John couldn't move. He had been in sexual bliss. First by bringing her so completely, so utterly possessing her. Then taking her again. Her sodden opening, her tightness a sensual delight. Her muscles contracting around him, giving him endless rushes of pleasure. He shifted slightly. "A minute...maybe two, baby," he whispered. "Moira, you may have fucked the life out of me," he sighed happily.
She frowned. Shifted. Still feeling him owning her, possessing her. "John..." She pushed. Pushed but couldn't budge him. She squirmed, squirmed. Shoved.
"Okay, okay, hold on a second," he grumbled. Finally lifting, sliding out of her. He rolled onto his back, groaned at the sudden pain. "Geez, can't you wait?"
"Fuck you, John!" she snapped, rolled away from him, cursed as there were no blankets to cover her. She rested on her side, legs snapping shut. Still felt the echoes. The sodden, messy blankets beneath them. "Damn it, John!" She withdrew her hand, scooted off the mess. Furious, although thoroughly pleasured.
"Not yet, baby. Not for at least ten, maybe twenty," he jested, smirking. He touched his back. "Damn..." He reached for her, encountered the mess. "Sorry, baby. You were coming as hard as I was." He laughed. A sultry sound that quivered along her skin.
"Shut up!" she said, face hot. Flushed. "God I hate it when you do that to me!"
"You do? That's not what I heard." He smiled. Turned onto his side towards her. "Not what half the base heard I'm sure. You screamed like a wildcat in heat, Moira...at least you didn't claw me this time."
"I hate you, John," she muttered.
"No. You love me," he corrected. "You loved every minute of it. From the seduction to the multiple orgasms. You just won't admit it, that's all." He sighed, eyed her bare back. The sweep of disheveled hair. Her shapely rear. "I told you, baby, and you agreed. Mindless, mind-numbing sex. The best sex we've ever had, and that's saying something. Damn, you really, truly, and utterly fucked me, Moira. And I completely possessed you. All of you."
She frowned at his smug tone. His calm manner. His obvious enjoyment. Of both the sex and her discomfort over it.
John smirked. He scooted closer to her. Touched her arm. Her back. "Ah, baby, don't be like this. Don't pretend you wanted me to stop because I didn't hear you say that. Not once. As much as I am loving the view of your pert little ass you could at least–"
"Shut up! Why can't you just shut the hell up?" she flared.
He spooned against her suddenly. Body pressing against hers. Fingers sliding along her hip. He kissed her shoulder. "Easy, Moira, easy. You're making me hard again...can you feel that? Can you feel this?" His fingers slid to her crotch. Began a gentle caress, stroking, stroking. Long fingers easing between her legs.
She shifted, elbowed him but only gave him more access. She moaned, catching his hand but he wouldn't stop. "Why do you have to do that?" she complained. Even as her body reveled in it. Even as she was enjoying his renewed attentions. His caresses. Long fingers sliding, sliding. His body pressing against hers.
He kissed her shoulder, up her throat. Nibbling her earlobe. "Moira. Because I want to. Because you want me to. But you never say it which makes me want it more. Because I wanted to bring you slowly. Exquisitely. And myself. Because you are my Moira and I am your John."
"Because you are the sex guy," she pouted, somewhat calmed by his warmth. His voice. The soft, gentle kisses. The motion of his fingers.
He scooted back a little, giving her room to turn onto her back. "Yes, because I am the sex guy. Now give yourself to me, Moira."
"John?" She finally rolled onto her back, murmured as his fingers delved, delved along her. She squirmed, clutched his arms. He kissed her. A deep, probing kiss. Fingers thrusting into her now. Moira moaned into his mouth, flooding at his touch. She found her legs opening to him. Her body arching to meet his. "Oh John, John John."
"It's not enough, Moira, I want more and more," he murmured. Slid easily into her. Began a gentle rhythm, not as frantic as earlier. Slow, methodical. Extending the building pleasure.
He groaned. His back rippled with spasms but he didn't care, as he was bringing them again. Moving faster now, harder, rocking her, the bed, himself.
"Oh John! John, John, John!" she cried softly, clutching at him. Kissing his throat, his lips, sucking at his lower lip before his mouth moved free of hers.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he moaned, thrusting harder as she climaxed around him, with him. Her pleasure taking him to his quickly.
John freed her, rolled onto his back. Grimaced. He licked his lips. Groaned again as Moira slid on top of him, kissing him.
"Oh John, John..." she gushed, kissing him all over. Settling upon him.
He stroked her back. Kissed her brow. "I love you, Moira. I love nothing better than being entangled with you like this. On this bed."
"You love the sex, you mean," she accused.
He laughed. "Yeah, I love the sex. With you. Now off." He swatted her rear. She rolled off him.
"I'll be right back." He clambered off the bed. Snatched the bottle of pills from his pants and entered the bathroom. He stretched, grimaced at the jolt of pain along the deep scratches. He downed two pills, some water. Gargled and spat. Drank some water. He looked at himself in the mirror. Ran a hand through his disordered hair. Over his stubbled chin.
Moira appeared behind him, smirked. "Yes, John, you are gorgeous. Even you can't keep your hands off yourself." She laughed at his expression. A mocking scowl.
He turned to her. "You didn't have to cover up, sweetheart," he chastised. Tugging at the green nightshirt.
"Go on. Go lay on your stomach and I'll give you a massage. Does your back hurt?"
"A little," he admitted, downplaying it.
"Go. And put your shorts on, colonel. That ordnance is deadly."
He laughed, exited the bathroom.
Moira smiled. Drank some water. Cleaned up. Ran her fingers through her messy hair.
John smirked seeing the bed. The top blankets were bundled on the floor. He stretched out on his stomach after pulling on his shorts. Waited. "Sorry about the blankets, Moira."
"Hilarious, John." She slipped onto him. Touched his back, viewing the long gashes that were slowly healing. She began to massage his knotted muscles. "Relax, John. You shouldn't have been so...um, vigorous."
"Hmm...maybe...I couldn't help it, Moira. You sound angry."
"I am. Yes."
"Yes? You're mad at me?" he asked, incredulous. Turned his head, lifted to view her. But she pushed him back down. "Why? The blankets? I couldn't help that, sweetheart, nor could you."
"Yes, that was your fault too, John. Not to mention the, the rest,"she scolded.
"Rest? Geez, Moira, you're the only woman I know who would be pissed because her lover gave her the most intense orgasm, no, orgasms of her life. Am I right? It makes me wonder about your other...few men. The few men you've had in your bed. Apparently none of them ever went down on you. Apparently none of them ever brought you. Repeatedly. Every single time."
"No, John," she said, leaning to speak into his ear as her fingers plied, massaged. "You're right. You want to know, do you? All right. No man has ever done what you do to me, with me, for me. No man has ever given me the most intense orgasm, no, orgasms of my life that made me scream or cry out or claw the fucking bed. No man has ever possessed me so fully, so intimately, so thoroughly that I can still feel you inside of me even now. No man has ever brought me so repeatedly, over and over until I think I'll die of sheer pleasure and sexual bliss. Happy now?"
He grinned. Groaned, shifting under her. "Ecstatic."
"How nice for you," she commented, causing him to quietly laugh. She sighed. Kissed his cheek, his brow. Shifted on him slightly, making him moan. "I must say, colonel, you do have a fine, fine ass."
"Hilarious, Moira. The best bits are underneath me now."
"Is that any better, sweetie? Your back, I mean?" she asked, slipping off him.
"Yeah...thanks, sweetheart. Give me five...no ten...I'm so fucking tired." He rolled onto his side. "Here." He patted the space next to him. "Unless you're still mad."
"I am." But she laid next to him, snuggled close. Fingers caressing his chest. "John."
"Still?" he asked, sighed. Kissed her brow. "Let's catch a nap here. Then–"
"I still have to see Weir. She's going to be pissed, John," she warned. Tired. Unable to move. Relishing the closeness, the warmth of him.
"Don't you worry, baby. I'll handle it." He kissed her. "Moira...are you still mad?"
"Yes, John."
He sighed. "Women," he muttered.
John rolled. His back muscles jerked in pain. He grunted, opened his eyes. Groggy. He yawned, blinked. Wondered how long he had been asleep. Moira was nestled next to him, fast asleep. He smiled, ran his hand up her naked thigh, shoving the green nightshirt out of the way. He glanced at the clock, at his watch. "Crap." He gently nudged her. "Moira."
Moira muttered, snuggling against him. One arm sliding over his lap as he sat. "Ssh, John," she mumbled, still lost in slumber.
He kissed her cheek, her lips. "Ssh, Moira." He got off the bed, pulled on his clothes. Grimaced at the pain in his back. Grabbed the bottle of pills but it was empty. He ran a hand through his hair, glanced back to see Moira still asleep on the bed. Hair strewn across the pillows. Nightshirt rumpled up past her bare thighs. Knees bent, rear stuck out a little. He smiled, almost returned to the bed. Instead he quietly left.
Exiting her room he nearly crashed into Katie. She stared, wide-eyed, as he neatly stepped round her. "Oh! Colonel Sheppard, I was, I was just looking for Doctor O'Meara, er, Moira. The paleozoologist," she stammered.
John smiled. "Yes, I know. She's asleep right now. Give her ten or so. Excuse me."
"Asleep? Why on earth would she be asleep at this oh oh oh..." Katie's eyes widened in surprise and realization. Suddenly noticing his slightly disheveled appearance. She turned, watching him leave. Looked back at the door and laughed, moved on without disturbing her friend.
John strode across the control room. Took the stairs two at a time. Reached Elizabeth's office. He stepped inside, belatedly knocked on the opened door. "Got a minute?"
Elizabeth looked up from her data screen. Studied him. "Certainly. Are you sober?"
"Yes, for the most part." He took a seat. "Look, um, about last–"
"Do you know I've been trying to reach you for an hour now? And so has Rodney? Where is your earpiece, John?"
"My..." He touched his ear. Didn't feel the familiar equipment laced around it. Thought. Recalled Moira's fingers in his hair, pulling it off him. Throwing it to the floor as they were passionately entwined. "Uh...it's somewhere. I mean I dropped it. So...look, about last night," he resumed, looking down to hide his smile. To school his expression back to neutrality, even boredom. "Don't blame Moira. She was just–"
"Helping you all blow off steam, yes. Like last time. I understand, and as long as it's not a continuing thing I don't see a problem."
"You don't?" Surprise. Relief. "Well. Good. It's not a continuing thing. Just a way to deal with horrible, horrible stuff. These past few weeks have been...rough."
"Does that include the singing?" Elizabeth teased, smiling. But there was still some tension in her gaze, in her stance as she leaned forward, arms resting on the desk.
"Ugh...don't remind me," he sincerely stated. "If it's not that why did you want to see her?"
"Oh, it was about that, but that's not all. Where is she, by the way?"
John shifted on the chair. Feeling like he was facing the principal in school. "Busy. But she's on her way, I'm sure. Did you need me for anything important?"
"What if I did, John? Of course I could have used the PA or citywide but what it's quicker and sometimes more prudent to reach you via the earpiece." She eyed him steadily. "And about your recurring disappearing act. Your reluctance to leave the city at times. And taking a Jumper for a joyride under the ocean." He was silent. "Look, John, I'm not one to pry but you are the military commander of Atlantis."
"Yeah, I know." He considered, sighed. "Go ahead. I guess I blew the whole discretion agenda out of the water these past weeks. So go ahead." He sat back, lounging. Oddly not concerned anymore. Hands folded across his lap.
"How long has this been going on?" Elizabeth asked.
"Awhile," he admitted.
"I see. As I said, it's none of my business but if starts interfering with your duties or your decisions then it is."
"It won't."
"You don't want to make her a member of your team?" she tested.
"No. She's invaluable on Major Lorne's team. And besides, that would be against regulations," he stated. "Do I need to cite the article and rule number?"
"That won't be necessary," she said with a quick smile. "I just want to be certain that your decisions and actions are not compromised by your–"
"Doctor Weir, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Moira rushed into the room, halted abruptly seeing John in a chair. She had awoken alone on her bed. Hastily dressed and made herself presentable. All but ran to the office and now stood, startled.
"I explained you were busy, Moira," John noted, sounding bored. But there was a sparkle in his brilliant green eyes as he briefly met her gaze. A quick smile on his lips.
"Close the door, please, Moira, and take a seat."
Moira shut the door. Took the chair next to John's. She glanced at him. He shrugged. She looked back at Elizabeth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. If this is about last night it wasn't John's fault. Or Evan's or Carson's or Rodney's. I'm sorry. We got a little carried away, I guess. Sometimes the boys, er, the men need to vent now and then. And the best way for them to do that is to relax with a few beers. It helps them talk, otherwise they wouldn't say a word about what is troubling them, their emotions, their feelings and they need to do that sometimes instead of bottling it all up inside." She glanced at John who was watching her. Amusement on his handsome face.
"And singing?" Elizabeth quirked a brow as Moira looked back at her.
Moira shrugged. "And singing. We won't make a habit of it. Of the singing and the rest, I mean. The drunken, um, therapy." She glanced at John, gave him a stern look as he smirked.
"See that you don't. I don't quite understand the effect you have on my military commander, my chief scientist, your team leader, and my chief medical officer but if it allows them to blow off steam once in a while I see no harm."
"It's not me, it's the beer," Moira argued. "But no, it won't happen again. Was there something else?" she asked, feeling John tense beside her.
"Yes, there is. How long has this been going on?"
"I told you we only had this...venting session twice. Once before after the elimination of the zombie Wraith, and then last night. We're not making a habit of it or anything."
"No, I meant how long have you been seeing John?" she tested.
"What?" Moira looked at John who shrugged. She looked at Elizabeth. Stood. "I'm sorry about the other night, Doctor Weir. Rest assured it won't happen again. As for my personal relationship with Colonel Sheppard that is none of your business."
"I know that, but since it appears to be impacting his performance of–"
"Excuse me? Doctor Weir, again, it is none of your business. As for Colonel Sheppard's performance let me assure you he has never been in finer form." Hearing a noise from John she ignored it, continued. Voice serious. "He has never been remiss in any of his duties. As always his performance is completely professional if not always by the book. He regards his duties to this city and its personnel as his number one priority."
"I'm glad to hear it, Moira," Elizabeth said, amused and impressed. She glanced at John who was watching Moira. A soft smile on his face.
"Rest assured in the future nothing will be remiss or unorthodox," Moira continued. She glanced at John who was beginning to frown. She looked at Elizabeth. "But completely by the book and professional. Nothing further will divert him from his duties."
"Moira," John said, half rising to his feet as he sensed something else going on between the two women. Something he felt he wouldn't like.
"If you'll excuse me I have work to do." Moira headed for the door, turned back. Anger flashing in her brown eyes that made John stare, feel a stirring in his pants. "And if you were going to tell me about his lots of women, don't. Because I already know about them, so spare me the details."
"Some! Some women. Why does everyone say that?" John grumbled. "Moira!" But she was gone, striding out of the office. Ponytail swinging in tandem with her hips, her rear.
"Well, that's settled, then. John, I think that Rodney needs your help with the Jumper repairs."
John stood. "What the hell just happened?"
"Nothing, John. We understood each other perfectly."
"Care to clue me in, then? I'm not losing her, Elizabeth. I won't."
"I'm not asking you to, John–"
"Then what the hell was that? No," he raised a hand, forestalling her, "I'll find out myself." He left, nearly knocking Carson down as the doctor had just reached the office. "Sorry, doc."
"John!" Elizabeth sighed, gestured for Carson to enter. "Carson, did you–"
"Elizabeth, what's wrong with John this morning? Let me guess...a hangover? I've already treated Rodney and Evan...I'm fine, however. These lads do not know how to–"
"No. Did you know about them? John and Moira?"
"Oh." Carson took a seat. "Aye."
"You did? How long have they been–"
"Months now. Why? It's none of my business, nor yours."
"I know that! I just...that explains some of his behavior, is all. His disappearing for hours. And that trip under the ocean...I mean...his absence at certain times. He's never been so negligent before, is all. So pre-occupied."
"Aye. So? He's here if there's a crisis or if there's a mission, right? As far as I can tell he hasn't been derelict in his duties. Give the man a break, Elizabeth. He is happy."
"Yes...I noticed that too. Everyone has."
"Good. About bloody time, if you ask me. This is no fling, Elizabeth. He's quite serious about her, if he'd only bloody realize it. And she is about him." Carson was solemn. Felt quite protective about the couple.
"Well, if you say so, but I'm sure it's just another fling," Elizabeth sighed.
"No. It's not, so just leave them be," Carson corrected.
