Conditioned Aversion3
John sat with his friends in the cafeteria. He bit into his sandwich. Frowned. Chewed. Swallowed and set the foot down. "This is not what I ordered. Did I or did I not specifically request ranch dressing instead of mayonnaise?"
"You did," Ronon noted, glancing at Rodney who was trying not to smile.
"And what's so funny about it?" John asked, seeing the quick look among his friends.
"Nothing. Moira always made sure your turkey sandwiches were just right. What was it? Oh, yes. Meleagris gallopavo mutatis mutandis." At John's blank look Rodney stared. "Oh come on! You have to remember that!"
"Sounds Greek to me," John quipped.
"It's Latin, actually. As in turkey with the necessary changes. As in Moira's little present to you after that first mission. You have to remember that!" Rodney declared.
"No. Sorry." John ate some fries, shrugging.
"And she used to snatch your fries off your plate all of the time!" Rodney added.
"Rodney," Teyla warned, mindful of Carson's advice not to press. Not to force.
"What? He has to remember that!"
"Latin, you said?" John frowned as his friend eyed him, expression expectant. "This Moira sounds like a scientist."
"Ah ha! She is! A biologist! A paleozoologist actually," Rodney enthused with a big smile. "So you do remember!"
"No. But if that's the case you are wrong."
"Wrong? About what?"
"About this!" John flared, displaying the ring still adorning his finger. "Not only would I never even date a scientist I would never, never marry one!" He stood, nearly disrupting the table in his haste.
"John, please. We will talk about something else," Teyla soothed, after giving Rodney a warning glare.
"If you can't remember why are you still wearing the ring?" Ronon asked.
"Ronon!" Teyla warned, finding one to be as bad as the other. "Carson said to let it be!"
"No!" Rodney ignored the warnings, the glares. The glare of John. "You have to remember her, John! How could you not? My God...she is everything to you! You've never been more passionate about a woman! Annoyingly passionate! And you'd kill anyone who tried to come between you! Who would try to hurt her! Remember Parrish?"
"No, I don't! And what business of yours is it anyway?" John snapped.
"It's my business because I am your friend, your best friend who is planning to throw you a bachelor party but now since you don't even remember your wife let alone getting married I guess that whole thing's out the window!"
"Rodney, enough!" Teyla chastised.
"So sorry about your party but I don't remember her!" John nearly shouted, furious. Restraining himself from punching his friend in the face. He strode away from the table. Ordered another sandwich in a terse voice. Nearly making the server cry with fear. He moved to an empty table. Bit into the sandwich. The zest of ranch dressing danced along his taste buds and he relaxed to enjoy his meal.
He could feel a headache behind his forehead. Ignored it. Knew he had to concentrate on recovering. To plan the mission to the abandoned facility. To see if it held any vital intel. He looked round, saw a blond woman watching him. Susan Williams. Her interest obvious. Flirtation and concern on her pretty face. He smiled. That inviting, insouciant smile that let a woman know he was receptive to any advances she wished to make. Until Teyla blocked his view of her. "What?"
Teyla shook her head. "You should not be flirting with another woman, colonel. You have a wife."
"That I don't remember. Didn't you tell Rodney to back off about this?"
"Yes. But I cannot sit by and watch you make a mistake you will regret every day of your life."
"Wow...that's dramatic. Overly so," he commented sourly. "Since when is my love life, or the lack of it the concern of my friends? Of my team? Of you?"
"Ever since this happened to you. John...don't do anything precipitous."
"Like, oh, say facing my dark side self and kicking my own ass, well, his ass? Giving him a lethal formula to end the Wraith in his galaxy? Kicking him back to his own reality while making sure that anomaly is closed for good? Almost being sucked into that anomaly not to mention almost dying at the bottom of the ocean? Nah...I won't do anything precipitously."
Teyla frowned at his sarcasm. "Don't be an ass, John."
He smirked as she left him. Shook his head. Eyed Susan again. Gave her a slow smile. A slight inclination of his head. That was all it took as her blue eyes lit up. That was all it ever took. He watched her leave, presumably to wait for him. Leisurely ate his meal. Drank his beer. Ignored the stares of his friends. Ignored their harried whispers. Puzzling over their insistence about this mythical wife, this mythical marriage.
He eyed the wedding ring on his finger. Touched it. Intending to remove it but instead he stood. Left the cafeteria to plan the mission to the facility. Hoping he would be recovered in another week to lead the team. He smiled, thinking of Susan waiting for him. Decided she could wait a little longer as he did his job first. Then he would do her.
"Initial recon revealed nothing, I know, but that abandoned facility has to be the key. There's no other reason for him to implant that intel in our Chair. I don't know what's there but it must have something to do with the origin of the Wraith, perhaps a proto-Wraith creature. A weakness we can exploit or a disease we can introduce, important intel at any rate so we can prevent what happened there from ever happening here." John paused. Eyed Elizabeth who was sitting across from him. "What?"
"You have valid points, John, on all fronts. But the fact is you are in no condition to lead a team right now. The main threat to us has been eliminated. This mission can wait until you have sufficiently recovered all of your faculties. Unless you would like to delegate it to Lorne or–"
"Wait, what was that? All of my faculties? I'm in perfect command of all of my faculties. Give me a week to recover physically, maybe less. Carson will release me for active duty. I would rather lead the team myself, just in case my, um, darker self left any gifts for us there. If he was ever there in the first place."
Elizabeth sat back, assessing. "Two weeks. And only if you are in complete command of your faculties, John."
John frowned. "Let me guess. Until I remember this...what's her name?"
"Moira. Your wife, John."
"Right. Look, I'm fine. Frankly, I'm sick and tired of all this commotion over some woman I don't even know, much less remember. She doesn't exist for me, Elizabeth? Don't you get that?
You may as well be talking about a phantom! And if she did exist why isn't she here now?"
"You sent her to Earth for her safety, John. You really don't remember? You were adamant about sending her out of this galaxy. That your dark side self would stop at nothing to get her. To take her away from you. That she was the genetic key to the ATA Wraith in the first place. The key to the formula developed to annihilate them. You don't remember any of that?"
John considered. Brow furrowing. "Some...I mean...I remember all of that, but not her. Not her. Not at all. So...the mission? In a week I will lead the–"
"No, you won't. Give it two, John. We can visit this discussion at that time."
"Okay, okay," John sighed, shifting in the chair. "I remember her, all right! I was trying not to remember her, since she is so far away and unreachable right now. It was the only way to deal with my darker self, without any distractions."
"Really?" she asked, raising a brow. Not believing a word.
"Yes, really. Okay. Even I can't quite believe I married a scientist sometimes. So, the mission's a go and–"
"What was her maiden name?"
"Huh?"
"You heard. What was her maiden name? How did you first meet her? When did you get married? Do you remember any of the circumstances surrounding that?"
"All right, all right!" John snapped, scowling. "I don't remember any of that! I don't remember a damn thing. Happy now?"
"No, actually. As much as we disagreed over all of this I want you to remember her, John. You aren't complete until you do."
John rolled his eyes. "Oh please! Now you sound like a Hallmark card. I am complete!" He stood. "We'll play it your way. In two weeks we will revisit this conversation and then you will agree that I lead my team to that planet."
"Only if you remember everything, John. Everyone," Elizabeth noted.
John sighed. Strolled out of the office. He headed for his room. Entered. Absently rubbed at his sore side as he stood on the threshold, peering into the room adjoining his as if afraid to intrude. Nothing looked familiar to him. He couldn't even picture the occupant of this room. Chased her name from his mind. A whisper which meant nothing to him. He took a tentative step, then another.
Abruptly he crossed to the table. Saw the wilting, dying roses. Petals scattered all over the table. Neglected candy bars scattered. He spotted a bottle of caramel sauce. Grabbed it without really looking at it and headed out of the room.
He paused outside the door. Rapped his knuckles along the hard surface. Smirking as he could only imagine her eagerness. Her willingness to do whatever he wanted. The door opened.
"John!" Susan exclaimed, still not quite believing he had been serious. Her eyes took in his lanky form. The smirk on his handsome face. She smiled as his gaze roved over her. Glad she had changed into a very sexy tank top and a pair of tight jeans. She took a deep breath, exhaled, giving him the full advantage of her heaving breasts. "Please." She stepped aside to let him enter the room. Turned as she closed the door. "I...I'm surprised...I mean..."
"You're not going to pull that crap too, are you?" he asked, looking at the bed. Not realizing he was clutching the bottle in his hand so tightly the wrapper snapped.
Susan ran her hand up his back. "What crap, honey? You need to relax, John. You've been through quite a lot, haven't you?" She slipped in front of him. Ran her hands up his chest. Kissed him. Kissed him again, sliding her body along his. Inviting. Offering.
John tossed the bottle on the bed. Took her into his arms, kissing her. Running his hands along her voluptuous body. Removing her clothes with practiced ease. Susan assisting as she squirmed along him. Removing his. Ignoring the many bruises and cuts on him. Guiding him back onto the bed. To sprawl on his back as she slid up and began a delicious progression along his body. Lower. Lower.
John enjoyed the attentions, but oddly his body wasn't as eager as his mind was. He frowned, trying to give himself over to the sensual activity, but something was nagging at him. He couldn't quite relax. Couldn't quite react the way he should. He watched Susan slide down him. Pause to meet his gaze as she played with his rather flaccid cock.
Susan frowned. "John? Maybe you are not fully recovered enough for sex," she noted.
"I'm fine! You know what to do, doll."
She smiled. A lascivious, almost predatory expression that made John stare. She kissed along his thighs. Kissed along the length of him. Took him into her mouth and sucked, sluicing and rolling him until his cock finally reacted as it should.
John grunted, shifting. Wondering if he was more impaired than he had believed, but now his body was doing what it should. Pleasure, tension slowly building as she worked him, worked him into a promising hard-on. His hands caught the blankets, as he almost had to force himself to thrust, to push. Something he had never had to do.
"That's it, honey! There you go...Susie will make it all better, all better!" Susan enthused after freeing him. She moved up onto her knees and abruptly took him into her. Began to ride him up and down, trying to squeeze on him, to keep him hard, to engender a momentum both would find enjoyable. Large breasts bobbing as she bounced faster, faster. Face contorted in the rivulets of pleasure as she guided his stroking, thrusting cock inside her. "John, John, that is so good, so good, so rough, so rough," she breathed hotly.
John was watching, shifting, lifting to thrust up into her. More determined than turned on to achieve his goal, to maintain his erection long enough to get off, to reach release. His hands scrambled on the bed, the blankets. Hit something. He looked over to see the bottle.
"Oh, honey, I don't need that! I've never needed anything but you, John," Susan breathed, slowing as she felt him not as responsive as he should be. She began to increase momentum once more, wondering if he was more injured than he appeared.
John turned the bottle, wondering what it was. Stared. "Caramel sauce? Why would I bring caramel sauce? Moira likes caramel sauce...Moira's kinky caramel..." He froze. Every nerve. Every thought. Every feeling. He felt like a block of ice. He forgot to breathe. His heart stopped.
"John? John! Are you all–" Susan never finished the question as she was forcibly hauled off him, dumped next to him, nearly off the bed. She cried out in surprise, shock. Frustration.
John scrambled off the bed, nearly fell to the floor. On his knees, huddled over his lap as if he were going to vomit. Memory rushed into his mind. Full-blown images and memories of his wife. His Moira. From meeting her during a brief about a mission to that first kiss during that mission. The first time they had made love. A night of passion, over and over. Moira, long brown hair, deep brown eyes. Analytical, smart. Funny. Compassionate. Having a darkness that oddly mirrored his own in some way. Moira, risking her life to save him. Keeping his secrets and protecting him when he needed it. He remembered asking her to marry him when they were both naked in bed in a hotel room on Earth. He remembered trading sarcasm for sarcasm with her several times. He remembered their quick wedding, the earnest vows.
Most of all he remembered her love. Her passion. The incredible, exuberant sex they shared. The intimacies of both body and mind. Emotions. He had let Moira in where no one else had been welcome. Trusted her. Cherished her. Loved her. Wanted her. Would go to any lengths to protect her. Had sent her to Earth to keep her safe from his dark side self, from the deadly formula. Perhaps even from himself.
"Moira...my Moira..." he muttered. Appalled. Wondering how in the world he could have ever, ever forgotten her. Betrayed her.
"John? John, are you all right?" Susan hovered over him, but John swung out an arm.
"Stay away! My God, my God, how could I forget her?" He grabbed his clothes, scrambled into them, berating himself. He felt sick at what he had done. Wondered if Moira would ever, could ever forgive him. Pondered what was worse. The sexual betrayal or the betrayal of her memory. Her very self. He stood, met her astonished gaze once he was dressed. "You...you knew...you knew I was married to Moira...knew I couldn't remember her and yet you..." He glanced at the bed, back at the naked woman facing him.
An almost defiant expression marred Susan's face. "Yes, John. I never quite believed this story of yours, of being married. And then you completely forgot her? You would never forget me, John," she touched his arm but he drew back from her, disgusted. "Is that why you couldn't get it up, honey? Well, I can always, always take care of–"
"This never happened! Got it?" he snapped, shoving past her. Anxious to escape. Wishing he could erase this particular memory. "This never happened!"