Selection Factor3

Moira snorted. "John, ssh!" she scolded at his raised voice. His eyes sparkling with realization. Interest.

"So...sex?" he asked, voice lower now.

"Here? Now? In the cafeteria? Naughty colonel!" she scolded with a smirk.

"Moira!" he chided.

She smiled. "Yes. Fine. Um...later along I think Sheppard's delight would be the most, um, comfortable um, position. But I'm sure you'll figure out various um, positions for the best, um, the best tactical advantages. Colonel? Colonel Sheppard, are you blushing?"

"Shut up, Moy," he chided, suddenly embarrassed. A rush of sexual desire was making him tense. Hungry. He drank deeply.

Moira laughed softly. "Wow. John...this is fascinating."

"Glad I amuse you, baby," he sourly replied.

"Tactical advantages?" Rodney pulled up a chair, set down his tray. "I thought you weren't feeling well. Instead I find you here, boring Moira with military talk?"

Moira sighed. "Yes. John's trying to figure out the best ways to storm the gates, or to penetrate the center, isn't that right, John?" She stood, moved round to him. "Oh. Here. I thought you might want this." She set the scan down near his beer. Leaned close and kissed his cheek. "I love you, John," she whispered. Straightened. "I've got work to do. See ya."

"Moira?" John half rose, but regained his seat. Lifted the scan and stared at it. Chiding himself again for not telling her how he felt. All the emotions choked back in him. Leaving him silent.

"What's that?" Rodney pointed, but his gaze moved to follow Moira.

"A scan. Of my son."

"A scan of...oh oh! That's why you are so...wow! Moira. Moira looks...my God! She looks pregnant, John!"

John smiled, met his friend's startled gaze. "That's because she is."

"Well, I know that! But now she's...she's pregnant, John," he could only dumbly repeat.

"Yes, Rodney," he agreed, amused as his own stunned reaction was mirrored by his friend. "Look. Right here. John junior." He showed the scan. Pointed.

"Where? Are you sure?" Rodney eyed the picture.

"Yes, I'm sure!" John snapped. "Here!" He pointed. Peered. Frowned. "I think."

"Ah ha! See? You don't see it either!"

"Him! I don't see...oh yes I do! Here!" John pointed again. "John junior." He pocketed the scan. Stood. "Gotta go." Left. Returned. Grabbed his beer. Left the table again to Rodney's amusement.

John entered their room. Eyed the new bed. The gleaming brass headboard. He recalled her teasing words. He looked at the table, noticed a pair of photos framed in rustic wood. Candid shots of him in his tuxedo. From their last trip to Earth. Their sixth-month anniversary. It suddenly struck him that he didn't have any photos of Moira. Apart from the risque ones. He grinned, imagining her reaction if he were to print one and frame it. He laughed aloud, tempted to do just that. Just to see her reaction. But he frowned. He didn't have any regular photos of her. Not even a wedding photo. There had been no time, even as brief and concise as the ceremony had been. Slowly he finished his beer, resolved to talk to Moira.

Moira sat back from the microscope, rubbed her back. Plants surrounded her on the table. A forest of greenery. "Damn it! I wish we had even a smidgen of that moss left for viable comparison."

"Well, we don't. Parrish took it all, remember?" Katie sighed. "Maybe it's for the best. The last thing we need is someone else becoming addicted to it."

"True," Moira agreed. Removed the slide and put it away, gesturing as the room filled with other botanists. "We'll leave the rest for bio two. Rocks?"

Julie joined them, shook her head. "Still in lock-up, but I can wrangle the key. I'll tell you one thing, it's not granite or quartz. Another piece of the puzzle, maybe. Oh shit. What's this?"

"I give up!" a woman declared, hands in the air. Followed by a group of women laughing and chattering all at once. "How can we even begin to plan a wedding shower in the Pegasus galaxy? There's nothing out here!" The women laughed.

"At least she won't be receiving any toasters!" Laughter ensued.

"Well, what can we do? We have limited resources, no shopping malls! Nothing! No wonder you didn't want one, Moira!" Julie noted with a smile, a nod.

Moira shrugged, nodded in return. "Besides that, there was no point. I'm already married."

"Ah...that's it!" Another clapped her hands. "Moira! We need supplies. Proper gifts for a bridal shower. Surely you have some pull with the military commander of Atlantis?"

"Who? Me?" Moira asked, as if shocked. The women laughed.

"I'd say she has more than some pull," Katie joked. Laughter.

"Katie!" Moira scolded. "That's not his jurisdiction. General supplies fall under Weir."

"But you could sort of slip it into his supply chain, couldn't you? Speed things along? You know," a woman winked. Laughter.

Moira shook her head, smiled. "No. As much as I wouldn't mind persuading him..." Laughter. "It is not under his purview. Besides, I've already pushed my luck with that bed and the fridge. Which is still hush hush."

"Of course! The party sure wasn't!" Laughter. "Maybe we could put it under science expenditures."

"Katie!" Moira exclaimed. "You could get Rodney to approve it. Place it under his supply list. Which goes directly to John. Who almost always approves it without looking too closely at it. Follow the chain of command."

"Brilliant, Moira! Katie, that is your mission!" Julie agreed.

"My...oh, I don't know. I don't know if I can persuade Rodney to do that. He is really possessive over his supply list," Katie explained gravely.

"Oh come on!" Julie urged. "You can find some way to persuade him, can't you?" Laughter.

"Julie!" Katie exclaimed, blushing.

"Maybe Moira can," one suggested.

"Me? I'm just a science experiment to him." Laughter.

The women suddenly fell silent. All turning, staring at the doorway. "Colonel?" one ventured.

John had been only half-listening to their words. Curious at the three women closeted together, talking almost secretively, then their sudden change as they had been joined by the rest. He was amused at the levity. Attracted by their laughter. Until he had gotten a clear view of Moira. She was sitting on a stool, leaning forward slightly. The blue sweater was folded on the table next to her. A green t-shirt hugged her figure, revealing every curve, every swell, every dip. Outlining her fuller breasts. The baby bump visible. The khaki pants hugging her rear. John was captivated, aroused seeing the extent of her voluptuousness.

"John!" Moira colored at his lascivious, probing scrutiny. She jumped off the stool and pulled on the sweater. She wrapped it tightly around her, pulling it down to conceal her hips, her rear.

John felt a rush of desire, of lust. He itched to get her alone. To undress her. To see. To touch. To taste. He licked his lips, trying to imagine how she would look. Feel. Taste.

Moira stepped to him. "John!" she snapped. "What do you want?"

He met her gaze. "You. I mean," he paused, his voice low, husky. Too revealing. "I need to talk to you, Moira. Now. Please," he added, feeling the stares of the women on him.

She sighed. "Okay, John." She took his arm, drew him to a corner. "What is–"

He smiled. "No. Privately," he clarified. "I need to talk to you privately."

"Privately? Oh." She frowned. "Fine." She freed his arm, moved to the watching women. "I'm being requisitioned, I'm afraid. I'll be back ASAP." Laughter. She returned to John. "Come on, then, colonel." She led him out of the botany lab. "What is it?"

"What were you talking about in there, Moy?" he asked, strolling beside her. Eyes straying to her profile, mostly hidden now by the sweater.

She glanced at him. "Nothing. Evelyn. She's a nurse. She is engaged to Gregory. A technician. Her friends want to throw her a bridal shower, but out here that's a daunting task. Lower echelon stuff, John, nothing to worry your pretty head about."

"Lower echelon?" he asked.

"What do you need to discuss, John?" she asked as they entered their room. "Is it the bed? Because we can move it into yours if you prefer. I know you still want some of your autonomy so I kept it in mine, well ours."

"Autonomy?" he asked, but Moira continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"Ours, since I think of this room as ours because you sleep here with me. So I thought the big bed would be better suited here unless you want to move it into yours but since you want to keep some autonomy I do think it's better that we–"

"Autonomy?" he repeated. He caught her arm, turned her gently to him, catching her other arm. "Moy, slow down. What do you mean? And what was that earlier? Are you planning an uprising, Moira?" he asked.

Moira inwardly cursed her husband's observational skills. "Yes, John, I am planning a mutiny. Just science stuff. Now, it's all right, sweetie. It doesn't bother me, I'm just saying it makes more sense for the big bed we share to be in here like the fridge makes sense in yours–"

He kissed her suddenly, stopping her monologue. Gently drew her into his arms. Kissing her repeatedly, slowly. Sweet, long kisses until he heard her murmur, her melting sigh of surrender. He drew back from her. Met her gaze. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you. I...I couldn't stop. I–"

He kissed her again. "I noticed, baby. I guess I will just have to keep kissing you. Sit." He led her to the bed. Sat.

"Oh! I have to show you!" She moved to the dresser.

He frowned. "Moira! I need to talk to you."

"In a minute, John. I had this specially made. I thought you'd get a kick out of it. It's our first baby thing."

"Baby thing?" he asked, puzzled. Curious at her strange mood. Her nervousness. Her seeming reluctance to be with him.

She moved to him. Smiled. Held up a small white t-shirt. Small enough for a child. A toddler. A drawing in blues and golds depicted Atlantis. Gleamed on the fabric. Beneath was a legend in blue lettering.

"Future commander of Atlantis," John read aloud. He smiled. Laughed. Took the shirt from her and grinned. "Damn right."

She smiled. "I knew you'd like it!" She sat next to him. "It's from a teddy bear."

"A what?"

"A teddy bear. Julie has a teddy bear. This shirt was perfect. We only had to trim the sleeves. Evan drew the design of the city. He's quite a talented artist, did you know? I thought up the slogan. Radek used an Ancient device to laser it on. I know, I know, it's not an appropriate or authorized use of Ancient technology but I think the military commander would look the other way. Just this once. John?"

He smiled. "I love it. I love you, Moy." He met her gaze, becoming serious. "Look, I'm not...very good at this stuff. I....mean I..."

She kissed him. Stood. "I'm glad you like it, John. I've got to return to–"

"No. Moira, wait!" He caught her hands. "Are you trying to avoid me now?"

"What? No, of course not, John, don't be silly!"

"Then sit that pert little ass down and listen to me!"

She relented, sat next to him. Waited. Waited.