Thank you to all of you who reviewed my last chapter. It is always appreciated.
It must have been in the early hours of the morning when Cat finally awoke, rested and relaxed as she hadn't been for an age. As consciousness stirred, she remembered the events of the last few days and hours and turned to her right, praying that it hadn't been a dream. In the bed next to her, still unconscious but looking peaceful, was John. On his face, in sleep, was a smile and, although pale and wan with awful swelling and bruising around his cheekbone, he looked so beautiful that she wanted to cry all over again. Stiffly she swung her legs over the bed, desperate to test her strength. After all, she hadn't been actually injured, although at times it had felt like that. Had it been a dream? She really didn't think so. Although she had no sense of another mind connected with hers now, she could vividly recall the feeling of the three of them united in a single determination to survive and, as she remembered, she unconsciously stroked her had across her belly, somewhat surprised by the growth that had happened in the last week. She knew that somehow their unborn child had a part to play in John's miraculous survival, as though desperate not to be fatherless before it even saw the world, and, although she couldn't possible explain it, she believed it absolutely. How anyone would put it in their reports though, she couldn't imagine.
Carefully, she tested her feet on the floor and, finding that they only felt vaguely like two sponges, stumbled over to John's bed, sitting rather more firmly on the side of it than she'd intended.
'Well, that was graceful!' she muttered to herself.
Smiling, she took a little while to take in the alive man in the bed, drinking his presence like a wanderer in the desert that has just arrived at a beautiful oasis. A stray lock of hair had drifted casually in front of his left eye and she brushed it tenderly back, and then leant down and kissed his forehead, taking in that special 'John' smell and feeling the warmth of his skin against her lips, confirming that life flowed through his veins. She needed the touch and security of his body next to hers and crept in next to him, under the hospital sheets, snuggling up against his shoulder, desperate to feel his skin next to hers. He had promised her he'd return and, though it had taken a little doing, he was here and she put a protective arm around him, promising herself sleepily never to let him go again. As her eyes closed, the lights around them softened too, to a mellow pale silvery gold: Atlantis was glad for their return and sensed something new for her to love; a little scrap of life that had begun to call out to her.
It was in this position that the night nurse found them. Quietly and with a smile, she pulled the curtains around the sleeping couple.
As the morning began to stir in the city, so the infirmary became more active. The night staff tiredly, but at least this morning with joy in their steps, disappeared to their own beds and Jennifer Keller and her day nurses arrived. She noticed the curtains around the bed and took a quick peep through them, grinning broadly at the sight she saw. She had never come across a couple as close as these two, so well-fitted in every way. Of all the men she knew, John Sheppard had been the least likely candidate for a match of such closeness: a loner and a solitary man, he'd always dismissed any serious claim on his affections. She remembered the first time she had stood next to him and noticing how damn good he smelled: a heady mix of masculinity, after-shave and hair gel. And yet, increasingly, he'd become more and more reclusive, refusing the more obvious female advances that came his way on a daily, if not hourly basis. She guessed that he'd become pretty fed up with all the attention over the years and, let's face it, the responsibility he held and the struggles and the stresses inherent in his position, would have beaten many men into total submission. Then, along came Cat and to all their surprise she had taken his heart and surrounded it with a warm blanket of comfort and security. And, here they were, expecting a child and, if rumour were true, one that might well have some amazing abilities of its own.
'Well, I'll leave them be for a bit longer,' she thought, then closing the curtains turned to her nurse and said, 'Leave them. Their checks can wait for an hour and if they have any 'visitors' (here she paused for effect, knowing that the younger nurse knew exactly who she meant) then tell them to go away and come back later,' before heading off to her office.
John stirred, feeling a familiar weight on his shoulder and the tickle of blonde hair on his cheek. Painfully, he turned his head to look at the sleeping form curled up next to him, then tried to focus on the world beyond the bed. Little of the last few days made sense and he certainly had no memory of getting here. He felt his cheek cautiously and winced then pressed a hand gently to his stomach, grimacing at the tenderness of the wound beneath and slowly some semblance of memory began to form. There was a dark room, a tall woman, a knife, pain and then a vast white space, Cat and someone else, someone familiar but he knew he hadn't met before. His movement must have woken Cat, because he felt her shift and knew that her eyes were open before he even looked at her. She raised herself up on one arm and looked tenderly into his.
'Hi! How're you feeling?' The words sounded a little ordinary given the extra-ordinary experience they had just shared, but given his reticence and her pragmatic character, it was going to be hard for them to broach the subject.
'I'm fine,' he said, equally unsure of what to say next. 'A little sore, I guess! What happened? How did we get back? I mean, I'm sure that my team pulled off yet another daring rescue, yes? And, why are you here? Is everything alright with the baby?' Worried, his eyes wandered anxiously down towards her belly.
'Our baby's fine, better than fine.' She paused, wondering if she should go on. Indeed, the memories of the last few days and the strange things that had happened had begun to feel as though they were a dream. Then she told him. Of how she had known he was still alive, of the strangest connection she felt she had with him, of the little voice coming from inside her that seemed to give her strength, of how the city thought he was dead, but that she convinced his team to steal a jumper and rescue him and of the probable consequences of that particular action which had only just occurred to her. As she spoke, she watched the range of emotions flash through his hazel eyes and she hesitated before continuing. 'Do you remember anything about what happened to you in the Genii prison?' She raised herself to a sitting position on the edge of his bed and looked at him intently.
She watched his expression as the memories started to return, all the pain and suffering he had gone through showing in his eyes and the furrowed brow. With amazement he managed to say, 'she took my ring. I remember watching it shine on the floor. I heard your voice in my head, or thought I did. She, she stabbed me. I felt my blood leave my body. I...I was dying and you saved me, or I think you did. There was a white space and you were there. We held on to each other tightly. Once I let go, but you refused to. Then I woke up here. Our baby...?'
'Yes. I know. I don't understand it either. Do you think it has anything to do with the gene? I mean, if we are such strong carriers, do you think the baby's will be more?'
There was a deep silence between them broken only by the gentle beeping of the monitors by his bed. The question was really rhetorical, neither able to give an answer and they fell back into comfortable companionship and a loving embrace, both satisfied that no more need be said. One of their united strengths was the ability not to over-talk a situation or problem, the worst being dealt with and forgotten, the best being appreciated and stored away as with this one, each memory only serving to increase the tight bond that existed between them. They would soon fall back into normal daily routines, unshackled by the past.
***
Richard Woolsey had a lot on his plate. Firstly, he had the prospect of a V.I.P. arriving in the city within the week. General O'Neill was on his way aboard The Daedelus. He had already been informed of the 'miraculous' return of Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard which he had met with a simple 'well I'm not surprised'. Secondly, there was the new threat from the Genii; he had been unable to contact Laden Radeen through the usual channels and was beginning to fear the worst. While he could never have said that he trusted the man, at least it was 'the devil you know' and Laden had come through for them on several occasions in the last few years. These powerful Genii factions all were striving for military control and that couldn't be good. The last thing the people of this galaxy needed was a military dictatorship, especially now the Wraith were in apparent decline and many civilisations were just beginning to recover. Thirdly, but by no means least, Charel was in their custody and needed dealing with. He had contemplated waiting for the General to arrive for her interrogation, but given the problems she was causing to her guards, he thought it needed to be dealt with sooner. In any case, she might have vital information on the Genii faction that had deposed Laden. He had a niggling feeling that this was a problem that needed to chipped away at sooner, rather than later. Unfortunately, he would normally have relied on John Sheppard to interrogate the prisoner, but given the circumstances and his weakened condition that clearly was not viable. Lorne was a perfectly capable deputy, but he had not the same ability to wheedle out information from a prisoner as did John, whose intelligence and skill often shone through in such situations. This meant that he, Richard Woolsey, would need to personally take charge of questioning and he really wasn't looking forward to that. Finally, he was expecting a little deputation of the guilty rescue party. They had, after all, stolen a jumper and gone off world without permission, although he couldn't possibly argue at the outcome.
He was disturbed from his thoughts by a tentative tap on the door, and a rather nervous Rodney Mckay entered, followed by a more belligerent Ronon and the, as ever, calm Teyla. The odd group stood in slight disarray in the centre of his office but all united in a firm belief in the rightness of what they had done and prepared to suffer the consequences. Given the same set of circumstances, they would do exactly the same thing again.
Woolsey cleared his throat. 'We have a problem here. Strictly, you stole a jumper and left the city with military equipment that did not belong to you which is a court martial offence.' He glanced over to Rodney who opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a raise of a hand before he had the chance to begin what would certainly have been a wordy rant. 'However, you did rescue the Colonel who would certainly have not survived if you had not. In other circumstances, you would probably be given a medal for your actions. However, there needs to be some visible action so that the message is communicated that this cannot happen again. Therefore, I intend to place a caution on all your records. If any such event should occur in the future, you will not be treated so lightly, I can assure you.' Here he stopped, and gave them one of his 'looks' which said 'conversation over'. Rodney scowled and was about to begin speaking when he was grabbed by Ronon and Teyla, and dragged forcibly from the room. As they left, Woolsey said, 'off the record, I personally want to thank you for what you did. It was very brave and probably foolhardy, but it had the best possible outcome and may well lead us to some vital Intel about what's going on with the Genii.' Here, he smiled, then bent down over his papers again signifying that it was now definitely time for them to leave.
***
Charel paced her cell, her long strides angrily pounding the floor, glowering ferociously at the two marines who guarded her. If this was Atlantis, as she was fairly sure of, then she was undoubtedly in deep trouble, given the death of their military commander and her part in it. She only hoped that she had given her colleagues enough time to secure their position, unhindered by the meddling of these damn Atlantians. He had surprised her in his dogged determination to survive and, although she had heard much of him from fellow Genii who begrudgingly respected his military expertise and his bravery, she hadn't expected so much resistance from him. She knew him to be partnered and had hoped to play on that weakness, but somehow he had turned even that into a strength. She was unhappy with ending it the way she did, giving way to anger and frustration and rushed at the last. A longer and slower death had been in her plans. Still, at least she had the consolation of ending his life and that would sustain her through what was to come.
Woolsey was not looking forward to this particular interrogation. He had decided that Lorne should be present, but had deliberately excluded any members of SGA1. Ronon would probably have taken immediate revenge for the suffering inflicted on his friend and Woolsey wasn't too sure either about Teyla, or even Rodney. Sense informed him that there was still a possibility of gaining some kind of Intel from the scary female who glared at him murderously as he entered the room.
'Open the door,' he commanded the marines, and it swished open and closed behind him, the force-shield shimmering back to life at his back. 'Please, sit down.' It was more of an order than a request, but she still persisted in standing, towering over him. Woolsey looked at Lorne, who stepped forward and cocked his P90 loudly.
'I will sit.' She simply growled and lowered herself gracefully into the hard chair. 'But, I will say nothing to you. This is pointless. You may as well get it over and done with and kill me now. You will get nothing out of me.' She placed her hands in her lap and stared firmly at her interrogator.
'Please tell me where Laden Radeen is and what your people are planning? If you do, then I can promise that we will be more lenient with you.' Woolsey decided that there was no point in beating around the bush. She probably wouldn't tell him anything anyway. His request was met with stoic silence and he reminded himself that this was a very dangerous woman, shuddering at the thought of what she had done to John Sheppard. 'What did you hope to gain by torturing Colonel Sheppard? I would have thought that The Genii, of all people, would know that he does not give up information easily.'
For a moment he thought that she would remain silent, but then she clearly decided that this, at least, was something she was prepared to make comment upon. 'We wanted him out of the way. It meant that you would be distracted by his death and we could carry on building our strength. I did not really expect to get information from him, but it was a pleasure to watch him suffer. He has been responsible for many Genii deaths and I enjoyed the challenge.' Here she paused and the smile was one of pure hatred, but then her expression changed. 'What do you mean 'does'? I killed him. I watched the life drain from his body. He is dead.'
Woolsey took great delight in his reply. If he couldn't get information from her, then he could at least let her know she had failed in at least one part of her plan. 'Oh, he is alive. We rescued him in time. You have failed.'
At this, the awful woman stood to her full height and hit the table between them so hard with her fist that it broke in two then launched herself at Woolsey. Immediately, Lorne fired his stunner, pole-axing her so that she fell hard on top of the broken table just inches away from Richard Woolsey. Brushing himself down and trying not to look too shocked, he said, 'Well, I suppose that's all we're going to get from her for the moment. Pick her up, get rid of the pieces of table and double the guard. We'll leave the decision about what to do with her to General O'Neill when he arrives.' Gratefully, he exited the cell with as much grace as he could muster, leaving Lorne and the marines to deal with her. And it they were a little rough, and if she had a few more cuts and bruises than before, he would certainly decide not to notice.
***
Finally, Jennifer Keller had allowed the team to visit their friend. It would have proved difficult to stop them, Ronon virtually fighting his way into the infirmary and Rodney's incessant babble would probably have done the trick anyway. Cat was strong enough to be dressed and sitting by John's bed and he was propped up on his pillows, many of the tubes and wires now disconnected, smiling at his team mates as they virtually ran into the infirmary. Ronon was the first to reach the bed, leaning over and giving his friend a huge bear hug which caused John to wince out a breathless, 'careful Chewy, sore ribs, sore belly' before he was released, both men beaming widely. Teyla leant forward and kissed his cheek, whispering 'it is good to have you back, John'. Rodney hung around in the background before stepping forward and rather uncomfortably taking John's hand, the tears welling in his eyes giving away his emotions, briefly making eye-contact with the other man before they both lowered their eyes in the embarrassment of giving away too much. Then, a practiced unit, they sat in their usual positions around his bed. Once they would have competed for the prime position that was the chair by his side, but Cat had long since laid claim to that one and she was now so much part of the team that nobody questioned her right to be there. The group talked easily, John telling them as much as he could remember of his capture and they filling him in on the details of his rescue, but neither party touching on the strange connection between Cat and John. It would go unmentioned just as Cat and John had put the subject to bed. Maybe later, but now was not the time.
There was another purpose to the team's visit today. Once Woolsey knew that John was recovering, he had called in Teyla with a particular request. It was vital that The Sheppards were filled in on all that had happened since the rescue and he knew that she was the best person for the job.
Teyla waited for the right moment. From past experience she knew that John Sheppard was a man who needed his job and would be anxious to take the helm once more. Eventually, he turned to her and asked, 'Well, now tell me what's been going on while I've been away on my little vacation.' Typical John, she thought, to couch a request for information in such a jokey and self-deprecating way.
She started with the basic shop keeping: some stuff about an argument between a couple of marines; an outbreak of food-poisoning which had caused Chief Maria Johnson some headaches until they discovered the cause was some dicey meat brought back by an off-world expedition; the re-instatement of the 'John Sheppard' cocktail at Harry Burt's bar with the addition of an extra dash of something strong but as yet unidentified and the words Miracle Man added to its name (this caused John to laugh so loudly that he pulled his stitches); news about Torren and his latest word which was 'bubble' for some unknown reason; and that General O'Neill was on his way and would arrive with a few days, to take command of the whole Genii situation while John was still indisposed. He raised his eyes a little at this, especially when she told him how devastated he had been to hear of John's death and how relieved to discover that he was still alive. Eventually she came to the point where she would need to tell them.
'You must know that we have your captor here, John. Ronon only stunned her. She's in the cells, but she's not saying anything much to anyone. From what Mr Woolsey has told me, she is angry and violent and was not at all happy to discover that you were still alive. What we do know is that your capture was mostly intended to distract us from the military build up of her Genii faction.' She stopped to register the expression on his and Cat's faces.
It was hard to read John. He was clearly disconcerted by the news, but his military brain soon forgot personal feelings, replaced by how best to use her tactically in their latest run-in with The Genii. Cat, on the other hand, was a different matter. The hatred that crossed her features was difficult to mistake, tinged with a hardening that told clearly of a desire for retribution. So disturbed was she, that she had to get up and walk around the room to avoid hitting something or someone. More than anyone there, apart from John, she had felt what he had gone through and she couldn't stand the idea of that woman being alive and here in Atlantis. A voice called her to her senses.
'Cat, Cat, come and sit down, please?' It was John. She walked back as calmly as she could, sat on the chair and took his offered hand. Meeting her eyes, he firmly said, 'Listen to me. You are not to do anything stupid, do you hear? She is not worth it. We have our future and our child to think of. Leave Charel to the proper authorities. If we take personal revenge, we are no better than her. Do you hear me?' The last words were said with such force that she meekly nodded, such submission totally against her character.
'I hear you, my love. And I promise I will do nothing to put myself or our child in jeopardy.' He seemed to think this was enough and his face relaxed.
'But,' she thought, 'that doesn't mean to say that I will let the bitch get away with what she has done.'
Please R & R. You know I like it and it encourages me to continue.