Parasitism4
"John? John?" Moira's voice floated in his ear. He shifted, feeling her body beneath his. Warm. Soft. Yielding. Sticky in places that made him smile, shift against her again.
"Strawberries, Moira," he muttered happily. Opened his eyes and lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Moira. My Moira," he said low. Gaze full of love, passion. "My Moira."
She smiled. Kissed him. "Yes, sweetie. It's been an hour."
"Already?" He glanced at his watch. "Damn. Did you sleep at all?"
"A little. I'm hungry, John. Let's eat."
"Hungry?" He pondered, as if he couldn't understand the concept. He kissed her. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, sweetheart. And I mean that."
"Good. Move!" She laughed as he rolled off her at last. She sat, scrambled into her panties before he could snatch them. Into her pants. Shoes. "I hope it's meatloaf and potatoes night." She limped to the dresser and ran a comb through her hair.
John smiled, watching her. He sat and fixed his shorts, his jeans. Pulled on socks and shoes. "For you, baby, it will be."
She debated, decided to leave her hair loose. Flung it behind her shoulders and turned. Limped to him as he stood. Took his hand. "John. I hope, I hope that nobody overheard you. Damn you were loud, John! The things you said!"
He shrugged. "Sorry, Moira. I couldn't help it. You gave me so much...the absolutely sweetest, best–"
"Stop right there, sweetie. Let's go." She opened the door, coloring at his praise, his pleasure. Happy she had pleased him so much. She freed his hand and strolled beside him, trying to minimize her limping gait. "Stop looking at my ass, Sheppard," she teased.
He smiled. "I never tire of looking at your pert little ass, O'Meara. Or touching it, or squeezing it, or best of all, taking it against a–"
"Stop right there, sweetie!"
He stopped her in the cafeteria. A gentle pressure on her arm. "Get us a table, please. In the back. Over there," he pointed to a secluded section of the room near the windows. "I'll get the food."
She glanced at him. "Okay, John. Oh," she turned back to him, "make mine a Coke instead of a lemonade, please."
"What? No lemonade? You're hitting the hard stuff now?" he asked, in mock shock. "How about a beer in that case?"
She smiled. "No, thank you. A soda will do. And as for hitting the hard stuff...I think I already did that, colonel." At his snort of laughter she grinned, turned and limped to the table he had indicated.
John watched her, noted her limping gait. Her hair falling past her shoulders. Her rear snug in the khakis, hips swaying slightly. He tore his gaze from her to select the food she wanted. Emotions he normally squelched were flooding him, and he allowed himself a brief respite to feel them, to revel in them.
Moira sat at the table, waiting. She glanced out the window. The sun was a brilliant golden orb descending into the waters, turning them a deep violet. Waves gently lapped against the city's piers. A quiet, soothing sound. She looked at John as he made his selections. Smiled, wondering what he was planning. He had tucked in the blue woven shirt but it was slipping out of his jeans again as he leaned, reaching over to grab something. He strolled to her, set down the two trays. "Thank you. Is this–"
"Perfect, sweetheart, just perfect. Let's eat." He sat, took a long sip of his beer. "Are you sure you don't want a sip?" He offered her the bottle, brow raised in consternation.
She laughed. "Positive, John! Absolutely not!"
He laughed. "Good. More for me, then." They ate companionably, both hungry. Thirsty. The buzz of distant conversations scattered around the room as it slowly began to fill. "You know, Moira, I meant what I said."
She eyed him. He was watching her, a smile on his handsome face. "Okay, John. Good to know." She paused. "Um, what did you say, exactly?"
He smiled broadly, but became serious. "You can have whatever you want, Moira. Seriously. I want to give you everything, sweetheart. Everything. Just name it and it's yours."
She smiled, touched his hand on the table. "John, you're my everything." He smiled. "But...since you are offering," she teased, tilting her head. She withdrew her hand as he waited.
"I've been meaning to ask you."
"Ask away, honey. It's already yours," he assured warmly.
Moira frowned, curious at his expansive mood, emotions. He never used endearments in public and it threw her. "I...I would like to go back to Pleistocene Park. The planet?" she prompted. "I know," she began before he could object, "it could be dangerous with the sub-Wraith but now that we know of them we can be better prepared. And we can take a Jumper this time. And by we I mean us. I would like to go with you, John. Just you. I've been wanting to go back there ever since we left, I mean, for me that planet is like paradise. And if you're with me there...look, I know you might get bored and all by the science but still we could–"
"Done." He sipped some beer, pleased at her use of his name for the planet, not Evan's. Pleased at her question, suggestion.
"What? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers. Dubious.
"Yes. That's one of the perks of dating the military commander of Atlantis, Moira. One of many. Whatever you want."
"Just like that?" she repeated, skeptical. Pondering his use of the word dating.
"Yes. I don't know, though, Moira. Prehistoric megafauna and me? It might be too exciting for you," he teased.
"Hilarious, John. And true." They shared a quiet laugh. "How would you–"
"Don't you worry about that, sweetheart. I'll just slip it into the mission roster. But it won't be until a few weeks. Barring any other interruptions or disasters or calamities. Is that all right?"
"Uh, yes. Of course, John. Are you serious?"
"Yes, Moira. And I won't be bored. Nothing else?"
"What? Oh, that's right...you are well-off, aren't you?" she teased. "Damn, I should have asked for something exotic and rare, like a tsavorite pendant."
"Whatever you want, sweetheart. A tsavorite?"
"No, John! I was teasing! What is with you anyway?"
"Dessert? Stay here." He stood, took their empty trays.
Moira stared after him, worried at his demeanor. Intrigued by his obvious affection. She looked round suddenly. Saw the women watching him as he moved with a graceful efficiency. He glanced back at her, smiled slowly, as if she was the only woman in the room. A soft sigh escaped her lips, melting under that brilliant green gaze full of love, happiness. Startled by seeing it displayed nakedly.
John returned, set down a long bowl. Took his seat. "What?" Her gaze was both admiring and worried. Caught between a dreamy passion and an anxious hesitation.
"Ice cream?" she identified, eying the treat. "A banana split. Cute. Very cute. What are you going to have?"
"Hilarious, Moira. I thought we could share. Two spoons. You tackle the banana. Slowly. I'll take the cherry." He plucked it off the ice cream. Held it up to his lips. His tongue flicked out to caress the side of the ripe, red fruit. Before he popped it into his mouth. Swirled it. Chewed and plucked the stem off with a quick tug.
"Fuck," Moira muttered, gaze riveted. Making him smirk as he chewed, swallowed. Eyes sparkling when she managed to tear her stare from his mouth to meet them. She spooned a piece of banana, ate it. "Whipped cream? Didn't you say that was too cliche?"
"In certain situations, yes," he agreed.
"Not on ice cream?"
"No." He spooned some ice cream, ate.
She swirled the spoon. "You know, John, you, um...how do I put this? You might want to, um, dial it down," she softly suggested. Glanced almost shyly at him.
"Dial what down?" he asked. "This? I thought you liked this romantic crap, er, stuff."
She relaxed now he sounded more like himself. "Yes, I do. No, not this. I mean...you, um, need to dial down your, um, shit, I know I'm going to regret this, but you need to dial down your...um...oh crap," she sighed, making him smile in amusement. "It's not funny, John! Look, it's even more intense somehow, that radiance, the gorgeous...you exude this...it's emanating from you like a..." Her voice spluttered as she couldn't find the words.
He laughed. "You are so beautiful when you are flustered, honey."
"John?" Worry resumed. "What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing! Eat your ice ream before it melts," he advised, spooning another glob for himself.
She set the spoon down. "John, are you...are you going to break up with me?"
"What? No!" he protested, seeing she was serious, not teasing. "Why on Earth would you even think that, sweetheart?"
Before she could reply Rodney joined them. "I didn't miss dessert, did I? Thank goodness!" He sat next to John. "And before you ask, no. Nothing yet on the scans. I have intensified the radius and implemented some further diagnostics but as I told you it is a long shot and if we do pick up any kind of signal it doesn't necessarily mean that we have what?" he finished as John's glare hit him. "What? Oh no...don't tell me...gooey eyes again?"
Moira smiled. "No, of course not, Rodney."
"Yes, and it's going to get even gooier so leave," John corrected. He met Moira's startled gaze. Smiled. "Now, what we were discussing?"
Rodney rolled his eyes, stood. He moved to another table, muttering to himself.
Moira watched him go, met John's gaze. "John? Are you feeling all right? Has all the, the exuberant sex," she whispered, "addled your brain? You are never like this in public. Are you breaking up with me?"
He caught her hand on the table. Caressed her fingers. Entwined his with hers. "Moira, Moira, after all this you think I could ever let you go, much less contain how very much I–"
"Colonel Sheppard?"
Moira watched in fascination as he changed. Turning in his seat to view the interruption he changed instantly from the lover to the colonel. His expression of loving warmth switching to cold, cold ire. She tried to pull free from his grasp but he kept her hand in his.
"Yes?" he asked. Voice stern.
The marine gulped. Visibly distressed his gaze darted to Moira, back to John. "Sir! Edwards and his team have just returned from M1Q436. What are your orders, sir?"
"Have them debrief in thirty. I'm on my way."
"Yes, sir!" The marine saluted, eyed Moira again, then departed hastily.
John looked at Moira. Sighed. "Sorry, Moira. Duty calls. Will you wait for me here?"
"I...all right, I guess," she said, thrown as much as the marine had been.
"Don't eat all of the ice cream," he admonished, finally freeing her hand as he stood.
"I can't promise that, John. It's already melting."
"Hmm...then I'd better hurry. I'll be back ASAP, sweetheart."
Moira nodded. Watched him leave. His quick strides taking him across the room. Long legs carrying him swiftly out of it. Puzzled, charmed, enamored she could only shake her head. Began to eat the ice cream.
"You look deep in thought, love. May I?"
She smiled. "Of course, Carson, please." She waited until he had taken John's seat. "I was just thinking...John...John's acting kind of...weird. Well, not weird but just not like himself. More, um, more..."
"Affectionate? Emotional?" Carson supplied with a smile.
"Yes! That's it, exactly! Not that he isn't affectionate or, or emotional when we are alone, but in public he is usually self-contained."
"Hmm...why does that bother you, Moira? It's about time he more openly displayed his affection for you."
"I...why? I mean, I know discretion is all but lost now...but he's so...so..." Words failed her and she stared at the melting ice cream. Ate some more.
Carson laughed. "Maybe he has finally realized how to treat the woman he loves, is all. That you are not going anywhere, and neither is he. Enjoy it, Moira. He obviously is."
John sat back in the chair, nearly tipping it but catching himself. He rubbed his eyes. He had taken the reports. Asked the pertinent questions. Dismissed the weary team. Considered what they had found, or rather hadn't found. He stood to leave when Rodney entered.
"Oh? Finally managed to tear yourself away from Moira for an hour?"
"Half an hour, actually," John corrected. "Did you want something?"
"Yes. I've located a signal. No," the scientist held up a hand, "it's very faint and so far I haven't been able to zero in on an exact location. I'm fine tuning our equipment. Even so it won't be until tomorrow that I'll have some idea of a vague location. We'll need to go through the 'Gate and track it that way. I thought you'd be pleased," he noted seeing his friend's frown.
"I am. Good work, Rodney! We'll go tomorrow, with Ronon."
Rodney shook his head as they two men exited the room, descended the stairs. "Excuse me for succeeding then! I don't understand you, John! You are all over me to track this signal, to locate a tiny signal in the middle of a galaxy of all things, and then when I do you don't seem to care!"
"Of course I am pleased you did it, and we will follow up on it, believe me," John argued. "I've got other things on my mind, all right? Besides, until you can pinpoint the signal there's nothing we can do. We're not going to go 'Gate hopping on a useless mission."
"Other things?" Rodney scoffed. "Oh, let me guess. Would one of those other things be that cryptozoologist?"
"Paleozoologist," John automatically corrected, "and the fact that my ice cream is melting."
"Your what? Oh, I get it. Ice cream."
"No, you don't. By ice cream I meant ice cream. What did you think I meant?" John asked. A sudden terse edge to his voice.
"You tell me." Rodney strolled with his friend across the control room to the hallway. "You really seem to like this zoologist."
"Yes. Any other questions that I won't answer?"
"No, no, I just...hmm..."
"Hmm? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John snapped. The two men stood in the hallway, facing each other.
"Nothing. Just hmm. You've been with her a while now, haven't you? That's all."
"If you have something to say just say it," John warned.
"Fine! You just seemed pre-occupied, is all. I am pleased for you, John." Rodney headed down the hallway, leaving his friend to stare after him.
Moira sighed. "Where the heck is he? It's been over half an hour." She sighed again, trying to evade Carson's inquiry but finally shrugged. "It just threw me, is all. The way he is acting. It made me think he was going to dump me."
Carson smiled. "Now Moira, he's never going to do that."
"Still...I didn't expect it, that's all."
"Expect what?" asked John as he joined them. Frowned. "You ate the whole thing?" He eyed the empty bowl.
"Sorry, John. It was melting. What took you so long?"
"I had an errand to run."
"I'd best be on my way–" Carson started to rise.
"No need, Carson. We're done. Aren't we, Moira?"
"Okay." She stood. "Do you want to get another–"
"No. Let's go."
She followed him out of the cafeteria. "John, is everything all right?"
"No. I mean yes, but no."
"Oh, well, that explains everything," she remarked. "Where?"
"Yours."
She scooted ahead of him, reached her door. Entered her room. "So are you going to tell me what the what the what the..." She stared. Another vase of roses, pinks and lavenders stood on the table near the window. Lush blossoms nearly overwhelming the vase, cascading down it's sides. The heady perfume wafted on the air. "Wow...Carson's quite the–"
"Carson?" he queried, closing the door.
She laughed, turned to him. "Oh! It was you? John Sheppard? The sex guy?" At his frown she hugged him, kissed him passionately. "Oh John! Oh John, they are beautiful!" She drew back. "So what's wrong?"
His arms encircled her. "Nothing. Except I have to leave tomorrow. We've got a possible lead on that tracking device. But I won't be gone long, I promise."
"On Ford?" She frowned. "John...you...you..."
He kissed her. A slow, seductive kiss. "I'll be careful, don't you worry, baby. Moira...my Moira. What are you in the mood for, sweetheart? Whatever you want you will have."
"I...I wish you didn't have to go. You must be careful, John!" She hugged him. "John, we, we've been very, very exuberant."
"Yes, Moira, we have been." He drew back to view her face. "Wait. Is that a complaint?"
She smiled. "No. An observation, sweetie." She kissed him. "Sweet and slow?"
He smiled. Kissed her, drew her gently to the bed. "I got you, baby. Sweet and slow. I want to make love to you, my Moira. Before I leave I want to make love to you," he wooed into her ear. Nibbled her earlobe to make her squirm. Licked behind it to make her whimper.
"Oh John! Yes, yes, sweetie, make love to me. Make love to me before you leave," she agreed.