Hibernation2
Elizabeth stared. All amusement gone from her face. "What? You are only telling me this now? What else is on that flash drive, John?"
John shrugged again. Braced for her anger at his secrecy. "Stuff. Stuff from that reality." At her stare he reluctantly continued. "All kinds of things. Wraith ATA biology for Moira and Carson. Wraith and Ancient hybrid ships, plus the anomaly stuff for Rodney." He failed to mention the video file of the fall of that Atlantis. The destruction of the city.
Elizabeth was still staring. "I see. And you shared all this information, and you acted upon it, all without bothering to even tell me, much less share it with me?"
John replied, "Yes. Sorry. There just wasn't time, Elizabeth. I needed Carson's input. I needed Rodney's. ASAP. Things were moving very quickly, as you may remember–"
"John! You had three weeks before your alternate version even showed up here for the formula! You could have told me at any time! But you didn't."
"No, I didn't," he agreed, uncomfortable. "Sorry. I should have. I just wanted to keep it classified. Still do. There are things on there that are for my eyes only."
"Such as?" she questioned. Anger brimming to the surface of her voice. "John, you seem to have conveniently forgotten that I am the leader of his expedition, not you. Now I can understand you taking charge of all military aspects, and taking over when Moira's security is endangered, but this, this is inexcusable! I want to see all of those files now! All of them, John! Even the ones you are pointedly not revealing to me now!"
John frowned. "Of course," he agreed. "I can get you the files. I can send you copies like I sent to Beckett and McKay."
"No, you misunderstand me, John. I want that flash drive. I want it here. Now."
Moira strolled into the control room, headed for Rodney. He was busily working at a console, muttering to himself and typing commands. "Rodney? I need to ask you–"
He looked at her, smiled. "Moira. Oh, are you still pissed? I guess not now." He smirked.
"What? No, I'm still pissed. Not at you. Why wouldn't I be pissed?"
"Nothing. So, you wanted to ask–"
"Spill it, Rodney. Why wouldn't I be–" she persisted, suspicious.
"John said he wanted you pissed for angry sex. So, you wanted to ask me..."
"He did, did he?" She glanced at Elizabeth's office. Saw John lounging in one of the chairs like a lazy cat. All arms and legs sprawling. "Son of a bitch," she muttered. "Now I am pissed. There wasn't time for any..." She caught herself, met Rodney's smirking expression. "Shut up! I wanted to ask you–"
"Oh! Thanks for the extra popcorn and chocolate! And the physics manuals," Rodney remembered the gifts suddenly.
"You got extra chocolate?" asked Carson Beckett as he joined them. "All I got was a lovely plaid scarf and a case of Guinness."
"You got Guinness?" Evan Lorne inquired, joining them. "All I got were art supplies and a collection of novels."
"You men are never satisfied," Moira complained. They laughed.
"Hey, what did you get John? Considering our gifts you must have splurged on him," Rodney noted.
"I'm sure he was very, very satisfied," jested Evan. They laughed.
"Evan!" Moira scolded, coloring at the memory of the presents. The wild, exuberant sex. The intensity, the pleasure.
"What were you going to ask me?" Rodney prompted.
"What? Oh! The supplies. Did I get everything right? I followed your list to the letter."
"Yes, you did great, Moira!"
"Supplies?" asked Carson.
"For the bachelor party," Rodney confided.
"All we need now are the strippers," Evan noted. The men smiled in agreement.
"No! No strippers, remember? And whatever you do, don't let John make a speech," she jested.
"Why? Is he long-winded?" asked Evan.
"Probably pompous," noted Rodney.
"Probably sharp," Carson agreed.
"No, no. He's...he won't say much." She smiled. "Let me give you an example."
Laughter drifted up to the office, momentarily halting the tense moment. "I wonder what that's about," Elizabeth said.
John turned in the chair. Saw Moira talking to Rodney, Carson, and Evan. Rodney was gesticulating wildly. Carson nodding. Evan smirking. "Who knows..." He turned back to her. "I'll take a look at the current teams and do some shifting of personnel to–"
"John! The flash drive?"
John sighed. "Fine. I'll deliver it later today. Thing is the whole drive is encrypted. And to be honest I'd rather not reveal those passwords. Security reasons. Let me make copies of the relevant files and I can–"
"No. You will give me the original flash drive and all of the passwords. I will decide what is relevant and what is not. Is that clear?"
He straightened in the chair. "No, actually. I'll decide what is relevant as most of this falls under my purview as military commander. Plus there are some personal things on there that have no bearing on Atlantis or its security."
"Personal things? Like what?"
"Personal things. Look, you're just going to have to trust me on this. All of the relevant files will be transferred to your–"
"Trust you? What about you trusting me, John? This, for instance?" She shoved a paper towards him. "The transfer list. Your additions. With no explanations, nothing!"
John glanced at it. "Yes. Daniels is up for leave. I think he'd be better suited to a desk job at the SGC. He's efficient with supplies and reports, not so much in the field. Johnson still has trouble with his leg. I think he would be better off in non-combat sitreps. Plus he misses his family. Lots of siblings." Laughter drifted from the control room. John turned in his chair to see Moira gesturing as the men surrounded her, laughing. He smiled.
"And this one? Susan Williams?"
John tensed. Forgotten he added a few other names to the list. Before his amnesia. Before the indiscretion. He turned to meet Elizabeth's irate gaze. "Yeah."
"And these other three women? None of whom are marines. All of whom are employed in various occupations in this city. John? Care to explain this?"
He almost squirmed in his chair. "No. Not really. I'd prefer it if you didn't require one. They're all due to be up for rotation anyway, right?"
"That's not the issue. I need a better reason than that, John. I handle any civilian reassignments unless otherwise directed by the IOA and these women are...oh...oh no. Don't tell me. You've got to be kidding me!" she realized at his chagrin, his pained expression. "They are all your ex–"
A burst of raucous laughter filled the air. John stood, nearly leapt out of the chair, thankful for the interruption. "I better see what's going on down there. I bet it's at my expense."
"John! I need an answer! John!"
He escaped, flying down the stairs.
Moira had extended her arm, as if holding a glass. "So there we were. The perfect setting. And I'm thinking, okay this will be amazing. Romantic. A true profession of his deepest feelings at last. We have the setting, the candlelight. The fancy clothes. The music. Everything. So I'm expecting a flowery romantic toast, right? But I forget this is John Sheppard. Man of few and awkward words. He lifts his glass. And says, I'm quoting verbatim here, he says," she paused, clearing her throat, spoke in a lower register, "A toast. To you, Moira." She waited. Sighed. "And that was it."
"That was all he said?" asked Carson, appalled. "On your six-month anniversary?"
"Yes,"she nodded. "So I'm left holding up my glass like an idiot while he clinks it with his and then downs his wine. Starts to eat like he just gave a high-five to a football buddy!" Laughter erupted. "I mean, come on! Colonel Romance he is not!"
John frowned, joining them. "I take it this is at my expense?" he asked, as the laughter abruptly stilled. "Moira? Not the snow story?"
"No, John. Not the snow story," she assured.
"There's another story?" Evan asked, saw John's glower. "Uh, sir."
"Moira, do tell! I love any story where John makes an ass of himself!" Rodney enthused. Laughter. "He almost took off my head with a golf club!"
"And I still might," John threatened. "Because of her," he pointed at his wife. "And I have never made an ass of myself."
"No, John, you haven't," Moira soothed. "You're just a son of a bitch." Laughter. "Gentlemen?"
"Oh! I've got physics work," Rodney drifted.
"I've got medical work." Carson left.
"I've got military work, sir." Evan winked at Moira, strolled across the room.
"I've got zoological work. See ya, colonel." She strode out of the area.
"Moira!" John followed. "Moira Sheppard!" he snapped, "direct that pert little ass to our quarters now!"
"Yes, sir!" she enthused. Altered her direction.
He smirked, sped up to be on her heels. "You better be drenched in those panties, baby."
"Shut up, John!"
"You know, Moira, while I was at the fucking meeting I was looking at those photos. I have to say I'm a much better photographer then I thought. Do you want to know why?"
She heard his anger, a living thing breathing under his teasing. Wondered at it. Knew it wasn't entirely directed at her, if at all. "No."
"When I zoom in on one particular photo I can just make out that pert little ass in all of its glory, and the sweetest, pinkest folds of your fucking tight little pus–"
"John!" She whirled as they entered her room. "You son of a–"
He laughed. Spun her to kiss her. To shove her against the wall. He kept kissing her. "Moira," he said low into her ear, "those photos gave me such a hard-on. I could have taken care of it, I guess, under the table. I only needed one hand to click the keyboard."
"John! What the hell?" She shoved. "What–"
"Eighteen days, Moira! Stuck on that ship with no sex. Except that quickie in the F302. I'll never look at the ejection seat in the same way again. And now this."
"This what?" she asked, but he kissed her. Kept kissing her as he drew her to the bed. Pushed her onto it. He slid next to her. Unzipped her pants and pushed his hand into them. "Not wet by far, baby. Damn it. I want to–"
"I can guess what you want to do, sweetie! Damn it, John, slow down!" She pried his hand out of her pants. Shoved him. "What is wrong with you?"
"Isn't it obvious, baby? I need full fucking deployment." He kissed her, yanking down her pants but sat. "Shit."
"John?" She stared, perplexed by his mood, his anger, his passion.
"Just a sec, baby." He stood. Moved to his room. Moira sat, puzzled. Waiting. Debating whether or not to undress. Questions swarmed in her mind, but she knew that John wouldn't answer any of them. Not until he got what he wanted. What he needed from her.
"John? What's wrong?" she called.
"Nothing, Moira." He returned, pants gone. Shorts on but very loose, skimming his hips as if they would fall off any second. He held a square packet in his fingers.
Moira frowned. "I said no."
"Let me guess, baby. Naked cock or no cock?" he teased, sitting on the bed.
"Yes! You don't need that, damn it, I'm on the pill! Come here and–"
"Fuck you? I will, baby, don't you worry." He tried to open it, cursed. "Damn it," he muttered. Impatient.
Moira smiled. She slid her hand up his back under his black shirt. "Jo-hn," she wooed into his ear. Kissed his throat. She snatched the packet from him, threw it aside. "Your deployment is going down, soldier, so forget that."
"Moira! We agreed to–"
"No, you decided!"
"Until we have that particular discussion we're not taking any chances. Oh, that's right. You already decided, didn't you?" he snapped.
"What? Oh, for crying out loud! For now, John, for now!" she flared, recalling her adamant refusal when the possibility of being pregnant had emerged. Instead she had just been sick. "What the hell is with you today?"
"Nothing!" he snapped. Stood. "I'll get this fucking thing on and then we will have sex, Moira." He snatched the packet off the floor, headed to the bathroom.