I apologize for this chapter…haha. Hope you still like it!
"Where the hell is it?" she muttered to herself, pulling the contents of her top nightstand drawer apart. "Ah!" she exclaimed as her fingers closed around the small cylindrical glass bottle. She popped the cap off and sprayed a bit of the sweet fragrance on her neck and chest. From the minute she woke up that morning, knowing she would have another Spanish lesson with Ronon in the evening now that he was back on Atlantis, she knew she would not be wearing her base uniform. Of the very few outfits she had brought with her, she threw on a pair of ripped jeans and a tight, colorful V-neck. She paced in and out of her room and bathroom, constantly checking herself in the mirror. She vigorously brushed her teeth to try to pass the time. He was late today. He was never late. She hated waiting. She reached into her underutilized makeup bag and ran black eyeliner along her lower lids. Her sister always told her that when she wore eyeliner she changed from "girl next door" to "sex on legs." She laughed to herself and ran a hand through her hair. The knock on her door that she had been waiting for all night finally arrived. Her heart leapt into her throat.
She opened the door and stood in front of him. He looked down at her with that familiar, knowing smirk, the doorway shrinking in size with him under it.
"Hi," she awkwardly squeaked.
He took a step towards her and her heart raced even faster. For a moment, it felt like they were in a standoff, inches away from one another, unblinking, blood pumping. He finally swooped down and pressed his lips against hers. She pulled him inside her room and the door shut behind them. Still locked in his arms, she hastily ran her hand down the lights sensor and they dimmed overhead. She placed both hands on his chest, clutching onto his leather vest.
He kissed her neck and shoulder, pushing her shirt collar to the side. A chill radiated down her body and her stomach twisted with anticipation. The two fell onto her bed and she unhooked her bra, pulling it out from under her top. He ran his hands along her torso, filling his hand with her breast, her nipples hard to the touch of his palms from underneath the sheer cotton. She felt completely incapacitated by him and his size, looming over her, kissing her chest. She wrapped her hand tightly around the back of his neck, pulling him toward her. Suddenly, his warm hands were underneath her shirt, peeling it off of her body. Her hips ground against his seemingly of their own accord and he groaned with desire and impatience. She looked down and started to unfasten the fly of his pants, fumbling with the laces. She giggled.
"What?" he asked urgently, looking down with concern and a small amount of horror.
"It's not a zipper," she giggled again, finally untying all the laces. "What?" she whispered, looking into his eyes.
"That's not usually the reaction I get," he breathed, placing a kiss on her collarbone, sounding relieved.
Trying to keep her giggling to a minimum, she smirked at him, then kissed him again. He felt for the button and zipper of her jeans and slipped his hands around her hips underneath the worn denim.
"Colonel Carter, SGA-1, and Dr. Rogers to the languages lab immediately," a loud announcement sounded over the citywide intercom, "Carter, SGA-1, and Dr. Emma Rogers. Immediately."
"Are you kidding me?" she hissed.
Ronon pulled away from her and she sat up quickly, searching for her bra. She put it back on, stood up, and buttoned her pants. Ronon did the same. She hadn't even finished pulling her shirt back over her head before running out of her room without a word, Ronon at her heels. They were the last to arrive in the lab despite their sprint over, already out of breath from their romantic encounter. Everyone looked at them, puzzled. Emma was out of uniform, wearing uncustomary sultry makeup, her cheeks pink, and hair tousled. Ronon was still buttoning up the last two buttons of his vest.
"Were you guys just—?" McKay asked, waggling a finger between the two of them.
"Not your business, McKay," Ronon cut him off with a menacing glance.
McKay shut up.
"What's going on?" Emma asked, going straight to business and trying to ignore their questioning and suspecting stares.
"The Wraith database was hijacked," one of the junior linguists (who ironically was older than Emma) started.
"Meaning?" McKay asked impatiently.
"A warning message appeared on the screen for about half a minute, and we could only decipher about half of it without you," he indicated to Emma.
"Did you copy it down before it disappeared?" Emma asked urgently.
"Yes," he said, handing her the paper.
She read it and studied it, frowning.
"What is it?" Ronon asked, reading her expression.
"This is a dialect we've never seen before," she started.
"Can you read it?" Sheppard queried.
She nodded. "I think so. It says 'Prepare the hostages. Wait out the fortnight,'" she looked up, confused. "Does that mean anything to you?" she asked the others.
They all shook their heads.
"All right, Rodney, Dr. Rogers," Col. Carter began, "I want you and Dr. Zelenka working on this to see if you can decipher more. Rodney, see if you can figure out how they hacked into the system and if they have hacked into any more of our computers. Dr. Rogers, figure out any more you can from this message. The Wraith's primary downfall is their overconfidence. They may have left more clues than we realize. I think it's safe to assume they are planning an attack on the city and have given us a timeframe. John, Teyla, Ronon," she said turning to them, "Keep on standby; we may need to buffer the city's defenses."
"Col. Carter," Teyla spoke up, "Is there anything important to be happening a fortnight from now?" she asked.
"The Awards and Promotion Ceremony," she answered without having to think, "That's what leads me to believe they hacked into our other systems. They know about it and know we'd be caught off guard. We'll move it forward a week. Hopefully everyone will understand."
"Do you think it's wise to host it still?" Sheppard questioned, concerned.
"It's not up to me," Carter replied, "Both the IOA and General Landry have made it very clear that this ceremony must take place within the next month in order to raise morale, and more importantly, reinforce the chain of command around the base. We will make sure that security is at its tightest," she reassured them.
Everyone nodded.
"Rodney, Dr. Rogers, I'll try to get Zelenka down here. Work until you're too tired and resume tomorrow. This takes priority over all of your other projects," she instructed, "The rest of you are free to go, but stay on your radio channels."
Emma sat down in a tall chair and pulled her messy hair into a ponytail, opening a book on Ancient Latin and a photocopied version of Dr. Jackson's notes on Wraith. Everyone except for the other linguists and McKay left them in peace. Ronon hung back, squeezed her hand under the table and left. She smiled after him, selfishly wishing they hadn't been interrupted. She turned back and noticed the junior linguist staring at her. This was the last time she would wear eyeliner for a long time.
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