Adaptation7
John strode to the bio lab. His boots stomping on the floor. Each step reverberating with his growing anger. He snapped at a few lounging marines who straightened immediately. He briskly entered the lab, glared round at the other scientists working. Moira was standing near a row of vials but was staring into space. Ignoring the other biologists he walked to her. Touched her shoulder. "Moira."
She started, turned, her hand hitting the vials. They fell one by one in a domino effect. "Damn. Thanks, John," she muttered. She set the vials upright, one by one, making certain the contents were still intact.
"Sorry. I have to talk to you."
"Okay. I'll see you at dinner," she dismissed.
"No. Now."
"We can't, John." She finished, set her hand on the table. Still not looking at him. Feeling how close he was. "Please. Go."
"No. I need to talk to you, Moira. Now." His hand was still on her shoulder and he gently caressed.
"No, John. Not now. Go."
"Moira...are you breaking up with me?" he asked, bewildered by her attitude.
"No!" She met his gaze, saw he was serious. Troubled. Angry. "Of course not, John," she amended, voice soft. "Now go–"
He caught her arm, pulled her from the lab. "Then come with me now, Moira. I'm not taking no for an answer."
"John! John!" she protested, but quickened her steps as he stride rapidly increased. "Damn it, John, slow down, will you? John!"
He stopped suddenly. So suddenly she crashed into him. Drew back as he turned. "Sorry, Moira. I don't understand. Moira, if you're not breaking up with me what are you doing?"
She smiled, but freed her hand. Considered. "Here." She led him into a side lab. It was small. Crowded with supplies. Shelves crammed with crates and bottles. She closed the door, turned to him. Flung herself into his arms and kissed him. "Oh sweetie!"
He pulled her into his arms, kissing her. "Moira, what the hell?"
"No, John. I'm sorry, I..." She caught his hands, freeing herself. "I got it, okay?"
"Got what?" he asked, losing patience.
"It's okay. I understand. You were right. About discretion. I'm sorry, I didn't see it. I just assumed it was because of your lots some women, but it wasn't." She turned away to stare at the crates. "We have to be discreet. Extra discreet from now on. No more spontaneity. No more, um, afternoon, or morning delights. I get it, okay? Despite what you, you did this morning. You...anyway, I'm still mad about that. And now this...okay, I get it now. Just go about your day and I'll go about mine. And we can figure out a time to be together. Discreetly." She sighed. "I'm sorry, John. You were better at discretion than I ever was. You know I tend to be rather emotional when it comes to, to you. And the way you make me feel. The things you make me feel." She turned back to him. He was staring at her, still angry. "What? Look, I can't help the way I feel about you! The way I react to you. The way I want to spend time with you. Touch you. Talk to you. Be with you, and yes, I probably would interfere with your job and your duties here so just give me a break and I'll dial it down, as Evan would say."
He stepped to her. So close she backed up and hit the shelves behind her. He touched her cheek. Her hair. "I have no idea what you were going on about, Moira. I don't understand why you are angry with me. I don't understand what happened between you and Elizabeth. I would never ask you to dial it down. I don't want you to change a thing. Not a single thing between us. I want you. That's all. Just you."
"But you heard–"
"No. Listen to me, Moira. I screwed the discretion agenda, not you. I let things get out of control. I can't help that now, nor would I want to. If it was up to me we would spend days and nights together. I'm not giving up our time together. Not any of it. Not our, what did you say? Our afternoon and morning delights. I'm sick of it, Moira. I've had enough of this pretending. You were right. I was just too blind to see, is all. I'm through."
"Through?" she asked, touching his chest. "I...I don't understand."
"Through." He smiled. "Through with pretending I don't watch you when you enter a room. That I'm not thinking of you when you're not near me. That I'm not anticipating when we can be alone together. Or have some verbal flirtations in passing. I want all of it, Moira. Nothing less."
She smiled, relieved. But shook her head. "John, we have to be–"
"Discreet? Why? We certainly weren't this morning. Hell, everyone knows by now that we're seeing each other. Anyone passing by your room, or on occasion mine knows it. Why pretend otherwise?"
"You...you wanted it that way, remember? And now we have to be discreet because of this morning!"
"Why? I'm not following you. Because of Elizabeth? Oh...my earpiece. It's somewhere in your room or your–"
"Here." She pulled it from her pocket, placed it into his hand. "Take it. We have to go."
"Discreet? Like having this conversation in a closet? Fuck that." He kissed her, pulling her into his arms. Hands roaming along her body. "As long as we're in here we may as well indulge in some illicit sex."
"John!" She pulled back. "This is exactly what we can't do! Don't you see? This, this intense sexual attraction between us has to be contained, has to be–"
"Indulged. Repeatedly. I'm not giving up any of that, baby, you better believe it. Do you think we can? Fuck this–" he repeated, moving to kiss her again but she pushed him back.
"John! You're not listening to me! I'm sorry, okay! I'm sorry I didn't listen to you in the first place but you didn't exactly explain it to me now did you? And then–"
"Stop apologizing to me, Moira! Damn it! I don't want that! I tried to explain it to you but you wouldn't listen now, would you? You know I'm not good at his kind of thing, damn it! I'm the sex guy, okay? And if you can't handle that, baby, you better tell me now."
"Stop calling me that! And you better learn to express yourself better, colonel! Although I guess you did just that, didn't you! Now move!" She shoved past him. Opened the door.
"What? What the hell does that mean? Moira! Moira!" He followed her out of the closet, grabbing her arm to spin her gently round to him. "Why are you mad at me? What the hell did I do? Well? You should be happy we don't have to be discreet any–"
"Of course we do, John! Didn't you hear a word of what Weir said? I've got work to do, colonel! We can table this for later." She strode away from him.
"Fine! We will, baby!" he deliberately provoked. "And just so you know we will be indulging in as many delights as we want! At any time, Moira! Any time!"
"Shut up, John!" she called over her shoulder. Angry. Frustrated.
"Any fucking time!" he retorted. Sighed. Cursing to himself he stomped down the hallway.
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John strode into the infirmary. Lingered. Waiting while Carson finished with an intern. He glanced round at the empty beds. The metal shelves full of equipment. Boxes. The computer screens on the tables. "Carson." He neared, held out the empty pill bottle. "Can I get a refill?"
Carson frowned. "Already? You shouldn't need one, John. What did you do? Didn't you rest last night?"
"Not exactly." John just smiled.
Carson shook his head. "Fine." He took the empty bottle. Crossed to a locked cabinet and proceeded to fill it. "Four more and that is all. Take two now, and two tonight. If you don't have enough sense to heed my advice and rest then I can't help you."
"Carson, I did. For the most part. Rest, I mean. But Moira–"
"Now don't you go blaming her," Carson scolded. Gestured. "Shoo. Go away. And I'm serious, John. Take it easy. No strenuous activity. And yes, that includes vigorous sex."
John frowned. "Well, that's not likely to happen any time soon," he grumbled. Stood, watching Carson as he moved to a table. Checked some data on the screen. He studied it. Made a note on a piece of paper. John neared. Drummed his fingers on the table. Nearly knocked over a vial but quickly righted it. He sighed. Sighed again, loudly.
Carson shook his head. Turned to John. "For God's sake, man, spit it out or go! What is it now?"
John sheepishly shrugged. Glanced round. "Moira."
"Of course," Carson sighed. Sat in the chair. Gestured but John remained standing.
"She...she's mad at me and won't tell me why. I don't know what to do, Carson! That woman drives me crazy! I don't understand her! After we had the most amazing...I gave her the best fucking orgasm of her life and she's all pissed at me! And then the thing with Weir and discretion but we're over that now, but oh no, she's not! She insists we have to be discreet when now I don't give a damn! What is with her? Why is she mad at me?"
Carson stared, surprised at the sudden flow of words from the normally taciturn colonel. "Have you tried talking to her?"
"Yes! And she just clams up, yells at me, won't say a damn thing! Look, it's not like I can run to a store and buy her some flowers or candy or something," he complained. Looking everywhere but at Carson and his assessing stare.
"Flowers would be nice," Carson suggested.
"So what am I to do?"
"Talk to her. Better yet, listen."
"To what? She won't tell me anything! Or else she snaps at me and I still don't know why!"
Carson smiled. "You are not very good at this at all, are you, John? Go work on your ship. Start with some flowers from the botany lab. Then talk to her. More importantly listen to her, John. If you listen to her she will tell you."
"I tried! But she–"
"Did you now? Or did you snap at her like you are at me? Go fix your ship, John. Give her some space, some time. Go!" As John left Carson sighed. "When did I become the couples therapist?" he muttered.
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Moira ate her lunch, trying to ignore the women staring at her. The men's speculative glances. Only the marines present seemed to be normal, except for an exaggerated deference that quickly got on her nerves. She looked up as Evan joined her, sitting across from her. "Hey, Evan."
"Hey, Moira." He smiled. "Are you all right?"
She sighed. "I don't know. I really don't know anymore, Evan. It's been a rough couple of days."
He nodded. "Not only for you."
"What?"
"I don't know what happened.. This morning Colonel Sheppard was in the best mood I've ever seen him in. Now he's in a very, very bad mood. This morning I could have gotten three months of vacation time and a pay hike but now I'll be lucky if he doesn't demote me back to captain and restrict me to the base."
"Oh." Moira shrugged. "Sorry. I mean, I don't know what to say." She eyed her plate.
"I don't need to know the particulars, Moira. Unless you need someone to talk to, that is. I just need your help. I need you to talk to him. He'll listen to you."
She shook her head. "Since when? I doubt he'll even want to see me."
Evan smiled. "Oh, he will want to see you, and to listen to you. Especially after..." he caught himself.
Her gaze flew up to him. "What? After what? Damn it, you too! Damn it!" She slammed her open palm on the table. The trays jumped.
"Have you had any trouble, Moira? I mean from the marines? You can tell me. Or tell Sheppard."
"No. I mean...they're the only ones who are not, not...they've been nice. Too nice. Overly nice. Damn it. Polite. Excessively polite. I had three offer to carry my damn tray to this table!" she fumed, but glared as amusement tugged at Evan's otherwise serious expression. "It's not funny, Evan! Why are they acting like that?"
"Sorry." He contained his mirth. "Because, Moira. Isn't it obvious? You think they want to risk the wrath of Colonel Sheppard? One word, one look, one laugh and believe me it won't be pretty. Especially with the mood he's in now."
"Oh. I hadn't thought of that...like that...I...shit." She sighed. "If he hadn't have done..." She broke off before she revealed any of their intense intimacy. The vibrant sex. The things he had done with her, to her.
"So, will you?"
"Will I?" she asked, breaking from the memories.
"Talk to him, please. For me?"
She smiled at his distress. "Okay. For you, Evan. But you ow me big time. I don't like to face the wrath of Sheppard either."
Evan laughed. "He'll never be that angry with you, Moira. At least not for long. I'll wait here while you face the dragon in his lair."
She laughed. "How very chivalrous of you, Evan. Where?"
"Jumper bay. Good luck."
She stood. "I'm going to need it."
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"No! God dammit, no!" John swore, slammed his hand on the ship's console. The array of lights flared to life. Power hummed, then fizzled. "Let me try it again! If this interface doesn't work we're scrapping the whole fucking thing!" He moved to the front of the ship.
"Oh, that's a good idea, John! Who needs another working Jumper anyway, right? I mean we have hundreds of them, don't we? Oh wait, we don't! Try it now!" Rodney flipped switches, crystals. "Where the hell is Lorne?" he muttered.
"Ah! Finally! Powering up. Basic systems are online. Let me test the secondary systems." He still sounded angry.
"Don't burn them out! You'll still need a test run! Just in the atmosphere, though! It can't fly into outer space yet, and the drive pods are still iffy. And no trips through the Stargate yet. It's not stable enough to maintain the velocity for wormhole travel. John! Are you listening to me?
Fine! Fly the thing into the sun, why don't you? Oh, thank God!" Rodney exited the Jumper, spotting Moira. "Moira!" He strode to her. "What is his problem? He's been like Jekyll and Hyde today!"
Moira shrugged. "I don't know, Rodney. Should I–"
"Yes, yes, you should!" Rodney all but pushed her up the ramp into the vehicle. "You most definitely should! Talk to him, please. I'll be eating a late, late lunch while you make him see reason!"
"Rodney!" John barked. "Close that fucking panel, would you? How can I test the secondary systems if the crystal alignment is hanging out to dry? Rodney!"
Moira quickly moved to the panel, pushed the crystals into it and shut it. Watched as John leaned over the console. Fiddling with the panels. His black shirt rode up, revealing a line of bare flesh. The waistband of his purple boxer shorts. The gray pants hugged his rear.
"Shit! There!" He ducked out from the panel, punched buttons. "There! What took you so long?" He squatted, leaned back under it now.
Moira smirked, couldn't help it. "Sorry, colonel. I was distracted by the sight of that fine, fine six of yours."
"Ow!" John had hit his head on the console, hearing her. He ducked out, stood. Glared. "Oh, look who it is? Well, I don't want to talk to you, Moira. So go away." He turned to flip more switches. The ship hummed with power at his touch.
"Don't be such an ass, John," she chastised.
"If that's your way to sweet talk me you need to do better, Moira. Where the hell is McKay?"
"You chased him away with your irascible behavior," she noted.
"Funny, that, coming from you. Mad at me for no good reason. Twisting things around like it's my fault. Wanting to be discreet when we don't have to be anymore," he muttered.
She sighed. "John, we do. I just needed some time. All right? None of this bothers you but it bothers me."
"What? What bothers you?" He met her gaze. Suddenly moved to her, past her. Closed the hatch. Stepped back to the cockpit. Tapped the console. "This is Sheppard. Jumper one requesting clearance. I'm taking her for a spin to see if she's in working order." He sat in the pilot's seat. Powered up the ship again. Brought the HUD to view all systems. "Well?" he snapped. "Get that pert little ass up here, Moira! Now!"
She smiled, moved to sit in the co-pilot's seat as the ship lifted off the ground. Lifted. Emerged from the city and flew smoothly over the spires.
John checked the controls. "All systems go. I'm heading for the mainland. Checking all primary systems." He switched off the comm. Met her gaze. "Well?"
"Well what?"
He scowled. "Fine." He piloted the ship into a deep dive. Moira grabbed the seat.
"John?"
"Checking deceleration." He slowed, hovered. "Inertial dampeners are good. Online." He zoomed over the water towards the mainland. Rising slowly. "No dragging, that's good."
Moira hesitated. "John...there's no need for you to be upset."
"Oh? Are you still mad at me?"
"Yes."
He shook his head. "Fine." He zoomed faster, flying up suddenly. Swerving at an angle. "Maneuvering at one hundred percent, although the left drive pod is a bit heavy." He swerved the other way, heading straight for the trees. Veered up at the last second. Moira rocked back in her seat.
"John!"
"Testing the ship, sweetheart. Just like you are testing me. Am I right?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" she said, as they leveled out. Flew at a more leisurely pace. "John, you really don't know why I am mad at you?"
"Yeah, I know, I'm just pretending to be pissed because it's so much fun," he sarcastically noted. "Of course I don't know! I give you the most amazing sex ever and you–"
"It's not that! Not now...just next time...if you are going down like, like that...let me know."
He smiled. "Fine. It's more fun not to, but fine." His fingers caressed the controls. "Let's try the atmosphere. I know Rodney argued against it, but I think this baby can handle it." He accelerated, going higher, higher into the blue sky. "I'm not apologizing for it, Moira. For the sex. For the sweet, slow seduction. For going down on you. That intently. For bringing you over and over. For the sex afterwards. For all of it. I had to...um...had to. Have you that way."
"Okay, John. I'm not asking you to apologize for, for that," she said warmly, amused at his defensive tone. "I think I even understand why you had to, um have me. That way."
"Oh. Good, then." He relaxed as they broke atmosphere. Moira watched the sky darken. The stars emerge. Stared at the planet of mostly water beneath them. He checked the HUD. "So far so good. But that drive pod is not entirely set yet. We can't stay up here too long." He licked his lips, met her gaze. "So? What then?"
"I'm mad at you for what you did. What you did very deliberately."
"Explain," he said. Descending back towards the planet. Saw her blush. "Well?"
"I...you...you deliberately made me..."
"Made you what, exactly? Have the orgasm of your life? Twice? Most women would be on their knees thanking me for that," he observed wryly.
"I'm sure most have been," she dourly noted. "You deliberately made me...come, that way. I tried, I tried to be quiet...but you...to be quieter but I couldn't. Couldn't hold it in anymore than you could but you weren't even trying! You groaned like your life depended on it!" she accused. "You made me cry out so loudly, John! So out of control! So loudly, repeatedly that half the fucking base probably heard me! Heard you! When I tried to stop, to muffle it you went at me even harder. Giving me such excruciating pleasure I had to be that, that, that loud."
John's hands tightened on the controls. He was doing everything he could not to laugh, not to grin. Schooling his expression into neutral. Trying not to reveal his amusement. His pride. His body was reacting but he fought that too. He chanced a glance at Moira. Saw the blush on her troubled face. Brown eyes serious, solemn. He wanted her. Wanted her badly but looked out the viewport as they dropped gently towards the mainland.
Moira eyed him, scowled. "Go ahead! This is why I didn't want to tell you! Go ahead, before you explode! Get it out of your system, John! Make your snarky, sexual comments and your arrogant boasts! Go ahead! Do it!"
John exploded into laughter, unable to contain it. "Oh Moira! My Moira!" he enthused. "My lovely, lovely, delicious Moira!" He laughed heartily. "I'm sorry, sweetheart...but damn! That was the problem? That's why you are mad at me? That mouth of yours is making me so hard right now I can barely–"
"John!" She glared at the trees as they skimmed over them.
"Sorry, sorry...oh Moira," he sighed happily. Relieved. Amused. Aroused.
"Bastard," she muttered. She glanced at him. His handsome face was full of merriment. Affection. A grin curving his lips.
"Oh baby..." he wooed, voice lowering to a husky drawl that shivered along her skin. He tapped the comm. "This is Sheppard. We're incoming. Clear the bay."
"Yes, sir. How's she handling?" came Evan's voice over the unit.
"Like a dream, major." John glanced at Moira. "She was a little rough, rocky at first but now she's smooth as silk and purrs under my hands." He switched off the comm. "Isn't that right, Moira?" She ignored him. He smiled. "You're absolutely right."
She met his gaze. "About you being a bastard?"
He laughed. "No, sweetheart. About my deliberately making you come so fast, so hard, so intensely you had to scream and make all of those deliciously loud passionate sounds."
Moira shifted, uncomfortable. She stared at the city spires as they came into view. Closer. Closer. Sunlight glinting off the towers. Sparkling brightly on the ocean waves. "Why?" He was silent, guiding the ship into the city. "John?"
"Just a second, Moira. Let me do this first." He smiled, but his tone was oddly serious. "I can only handle one of you at a time."
