Survival of the Fittest9
Moira watched the two men move from the DHD to the Stargate. She frowned, seeing no improvement. No whirling of chevrons. No sudden KAWOOSH of the even horizon. Hearing movement behind her she said, "It doesn't look good, Matthew. Do you know anything about 'Gate travel?"
"I only know it's about time we were alone, Moira. That fucking colonel and his possessive arrogance!"
Moira tensed. She silently cursed. Fingers curled around the 9mm she still held. She watched as Ronon joined the other two at the Stargate. "You're right, Matthew," she smoothly agreed. "He can be a surly son of a bitch at times. Acting as if I belonged to him." She slid out of the seat, stood and turned.
Matthew smiled, gaze raking over her body. "You don't belong to anyone, Moira. You're a scientist. You don't belong with those military bastards. You should be with me."
He made to move towards her but she raised the gun, held it steady. "No, Matthew. Don't make me do this. You're not yourself. Think! The enzyme is affecting you! You have no interest in me, you never have!"
"You're a beautiful woman, Moira. Just waiting to be taken by a–"
"No!" She clicked off the safety, stopping him. "Don't make me shoot you. Think!"
John shrugged, hit the 'Gate with his fist. "Ouch!" He cradled his sore hand. "It looks fine! We won't be able to budge even if we tried!"
"Not without a naquada generator," Evan agreed.
"So that's it? We're stuck here?" Ronon asked. Scowling.
John looked at him, glanced at the Jumper. Glanced again seeing Moira holding a gun on Matthew. "Shit. Ronon!" He sprinted to the vehicle.
"You wouldn't shoot me, Moira, would you? I just want a taste of that delicious little ass that Sheppard is always shielding."
She fired. Hit the floor. "I'm warning you! Back off, now!"
"You fucking bitch!" Matthew was suddenly thrown to the floor, hit the wall. He went still.
"Ronon!" Moira said, as the Satedan hauled the botanists to the back seat. "No! He's–"
"Put him down, he's out cold," John said, glancing at her. "You okay?" She nodded. "Damn enzyme. Secure him there." He closed the hatch as Evan entered the ship, stared at the unconscious botanist.
"You sure you're okay?" Ronon asked.
She smiled. "Yes. Thanks, Ronon."
"Gun," John noted.
"What? Oh." She lowered the weapon, clicked on the safety. She moved back to the co-pilot's seat. "Well?"
John sighed, sat down. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong with the DHD that I can see. The 'Gate looks fine but I'm no physicist." He briefly smiled at her, eliciting a smile in return. "I couldn't tell if there was some technical glitch or not."
"So we're stuck here," she said, echoing Ronon.
"Yes, for now. Once Atlantis can't dial through they'll contact the Daedalus to locate us. Shit. Without a wormhole we can't even communicate with them." He thought, tapping his fingers along the console. It hummed under his touch. "Unless we're in space...we can contact the Daedalus when it's in range. But that will be a few days...even weeks." He looked at Moira.
Moira was staring at him. At his drenched body, clothing clinging to every muscle. The blood-stained bandage on his arm. The water sparkling in his dark, unkempt hair. His stubbled, unshaven face. His fingers playing on the console.
He smiled, but turned to look somberly at the men behind them. "So we're stuck here."
"Sir, what the hell is Parrish's problem? Why would he attack Moira?" Evan asked.
"It's the enzyme. We've all been affected. It's diluted from the water. The moss. Secretions tainted the water supply. Even the fruit, maybe. It's a mild dose compared to actually eating the stuff, but it still affects the adrenal and hormonal glands."
"You want to say that in English?" Ronon queried.
John replied, "It's affecting your urges. To fight. To argue. To...you know." He glanced at Moira who was still staring at him. In a desirous, admiring way. He swore to himself silently. "And now it decides to affect her," he muttered. Looked at the men. "I think we're pretty clear of it, but Parrish...I bet he didn't...um...let's just say he didn't release it like you...um...did."
"What?" Ronon asked, brow furrowed in puzzlement.
Evan smiled suddenly, smothered a laugh. "Oh! That explains the...oh! But you...you recovered much, much faster than we..." He glanced at Moira. "You lucky bastard," he muttered.
"No, major. Nothing like that," John warned, glancing at Moira again. She seemed curiously unaffected by the lewd talk. Smiled slowly at him. Invitingly. John cursed to himself, tore his gaze from hers. "I mean yes, but not what you think."
"I still don't know what you're talking about," Ronon complained.
"When you woke up this morning. You had..." John gestured, awkwardly aware of Moira.
Ronon stared. Grinned. Comprehended. "Oh, that? We all had?"
"Yes," John tried not to laugh as Evan smothered his hilarity behind his hand. "Because of the enzyme. And your...how do I say this? Your behavior before, towards Moira. When you woke this morning with...you know...and took care of that, um particular problem the enzyme was removed from your system. Understand now?"
Ronon considered. "Oh. When I...oh. Oh! The enzyme did that? Really? To all of us?"
"We should have bought it dinner, I guess," Evan jested. The three men burst into laughter.
Moira smiled, embarrassed but unable to stop staring at John. Fixated on his motions. His movement. His handsome face breaking into a smile of amusement. Brilliant green eyes sparkling. Shifting in his seat. Beads of water trickling along his sideburns, along the slope of the nape of his neck. The quick darting of his tongue as he licked his lips.
"Is Moira all right?" Ronon asked when the hilarity had passed.
"Yes, she's fine. Pissed, but fine," John answered.
"Why isn't the enzyme affecting her?" Evan wondered, glancing at her.
John shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's a guy thing." They laughed again.
"Slower metabolism," she finally spoke. John met her intense gaze. "It takes longer to affect the female of the species. That's why there are no women here."
"I wondered about that," Evan commented. "What happened to the women?"
"They're all dead." They stared at her flat assessment.
"Dead? How?" John asked, gaze locked with hers.
"Killed. Probably inadvertently. By the men. Hyped on the enzyme and lacking higher brain functions they had devolved into mindless savages. Could only react the simplest, most animalistic urges. To fight. To kill. To have sex." Her voice was soft, calm. Her gaze wandered over him again.
John shifted in his seat. "And the women wouldn't have been similarly affected?"
She smiled. "Oh, they would have. But not as lethally. Not as aggressively. Instead of choosing any man they would have singled out one. Only one. Chosen. Wanted. The alpha male of the pack. Which would have set the others to fighting. To killing. To destroying. Lacking higher brain functions." She briefly touched his now still fingers on the console. Stood. "Let's see if we have any food. I'm starving. And so thirsty."
John stared after her. She sounded like herself again but the undercurrent of her earlier words had aroused him. Concerned him. Made him oddly smug as her attention, her desire was solely riveted on him. He glanced at the other two men who were staring, astonished. "Let's eat," he agreed, breaking the spell with normalcy. "I hope we have plenty of MREs. Major!"
Evan was staring after Moira, mouth hanging open. "Wha...yes, sir! We should have a few days worth of supplies."
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John sat in the pilot's seat. The open hatch let in a cool breeze. Evan and gone to the DHD again to test it. Ronon was checking the perimeter. John stretched his arms, back, winced at the ache from the bullet injury. He could hear Moira behind him, looking through the packs. "I'm fine, Moira. I don't need–"
"You do need," she countered. Moving to him she ran her hands up his shoulders. Caressed. Leaned close. "I wish you had let me change your bandage," she pouted, touched the clean wrapping on his arm.
"No. Lorne did fine."
"I could have done better," she said into his ear, kissed his throat. Hands caressing his shoulders, back. Plying the muscles under the damp shirt.
John smiled. "I bet you could have, Moira, but no. Weren't you going to check on the DHD with Lorne?"
"I lied," she confessed, running her mouth along his jaw, side of his face. "I wanted to be alone with you, John."
"Oh oh," he realized, but not unpleasantly. "Moira, you said no eso until Atlantis. Remember?"
"Hmm...a woman can change her mind, can't she?" she purred, kissing him. Turning his head to capture his mouth with hers. "John, come closer. I want to feel you. It's only fair. You offered."
"I...what? Offered?" He caught her hands, freed himself. It took all of his self-control not to get up and pull her into an embrace.
"Yes, flyboy, you offered to return the favor. Well, I'm asking. Now. Do you want to feel how much, how very mich I need you to bring me, John?" She guided his hand between her legs. "To take me, John?"
He bit back a moan. Moved his hands from her body. "It's wet clothes, that is all," he tried to reason.
She laughed against his skin, a sultry, erotic sound that made him react. "That's not all, John. Not by far." He heard her unzip her pants. Closed his eyes, fighting against it. She guided his hand to her. He only halfheartedly pulled away but she kept a grip on his fingers. "Not even close...oh..." His fingers brushed her wet panties. "I guess those are wet too...but not from the pool...not at all..." She guided his fingers into her panties. Moaned softly.
John's restraint snapped. He pulled his hand free. Stood. Propelled her backwards to the wall and kissed her. Thrusting against her. She murmured, pulling him closer, shoving her body against his. Rubbing along him, thighs parting. His mouth captured hers, probing, possessing as his hands ran along her body. He felt her eagerness, her need. His own racing to meet hers. With an effort he stepped away. Grabbed her pants, roughly zipped them. Zipped up his own as she had somehow undone them. "Damn it, Moira! Now?" he demanded, irritated. Tense.
She smiled. "John...please."
His gaze fell onto Matthew, still unconscious. "What about him?"
"He's jealous of you. Jealous of the alpha male of the group. Let him see why," she urged, kissing him again.
He freed himself. "Now I know you are hyped on that enzyme. Damn."
"It's still me, John. Just a really, really horny me." She laughed.
He grinned. "Fine. The things I have to do for you, Moira." He grabbed her hand, pulled her out of the Jumper.
"Sir?" Evan turned as John pulled Moira behind him roughly.
"Taking five, major. Don't ask."
"Okay, sir," Evan agreed, grinning.
John swore to himself. "It's not what you think, major!"
"Of course not, sir."
John pulled her into the tree-line. Moira followed on his heels, other hand sliding along his back, down to his rear to pinch. "Hey! Hands off my ass, O'Meara!"
She laughed. "Where would like my hands, sweetie?" she teased. "Where are you taking me? When are you taking me? How are you going to take me, John?"
"Cut it out, Moira! Your mouth," he muttered, but found himself full of anticipation.
"Are you going to take me, John? Take me hard?" she teased.
"Yes," he agreed. "I may have to take you hard to free you of that damn enzyme. Will that work?"
"I want you completely, sweetie," she insisted, following on his heels. "No simulations. No pretend sex. No oral sex, no heavy petting. I want real, unclothed sex, John. I want you to completely and utterly fill me! I want you so fucking deep inside me you'll lose your–"
"Moira!" he cautioned sternly, whirled. She bumped into him, flung herself into his arms. "I can only take so much! Will that clear you?"
She smiled. "Clear me completely, John. Over and over and–"
"Focus! Will that clear you of the enzyme?" he demanded. "Think!" He gently shook her.
She considered. "Hmm...it should. Yes." She smiled. "If not we can always do it again. Isn't that right, soldier? Can you deploy that big, hard ordnance more than once? Do you want to fuck me, John?" She tilted her head coyly.
He kissed her, shoved her body against his. "Over and over," he agreed harshly into her ear.
She squirmed. "Good! So do it! I know you can get it up," she teased hotly. "Over and over."
He glanced round. "This is absolutely–"
"Wonderful," she finished for him. "Here. This way, sweetie." She took his hand, led him under a tangle of swinging boughs full of huge leaves. "I can't wait for Atlantis, John. I really can't. If we're going to be here for days and days, or weeks...I can't wait that long. Can you?"
"No...I guess not when you put it like ow!" He drew back his hand as he ducked after her, shoving a vine aside. He straightened, stared. The shaded glen was full of wild roses. Large blossoms. Shades of red and pink. Their heady fragrances filled the warm air.
Moira turned to him. "Isn't it beautiful, John? You...oh! Did you hurt yourself?" She took his hand. Examined the faint scratch, the faint line of blood welling to the surface. "I'll kiss it and make it all better, honey. Don't you worry." She kissed the scratch, ran her tongue along it. Ran her tongue and lips up to his forefinger. Inserted his finger into her mouth and teasingly sucked.
John stared, transfixed. Aroused. "Moira...are you sure?"
She freed his finger. Smiled. Stepped further into the glen. Unzipped her pants. Removed them. "What does it look like, John?" She lifted her arms to removed her shirt. "Now take off your clothes. Or shall I do it for you?"
His gaze devoured her. Especially as she removed her bra. Freed her hair to swirl wildly around her. Slid her hands along her panties. He smiled, practically tore off his shirt. "I just know I'm going to regret this," he muttered, helpless to stop. He removed his pants.
Moira smiled, beckoning. "No you won't. Come, John."
He moved to her, kissed her. Moved her gently down on their clothes, onto the carpet of flowers, careful of the thorns surrounding them. "Are you sure, Moira? Really, really sure?"
"Yes, John. Now stop talking," she argued, welcoming him boldly as her body squirmed under his. Legs opening in invitation. Demand.
"But what about–" His concerns faded as she yanked down his boxer shorts. Yanked off her panties and grabbed him. Guided him to her.
"Ah...just there, please, John...you offered, you offered," she urged, moaning. Arching. Sliding and squirming under him.
John forgot all of his arguments, concerns, restraints. Forgot everything but her. The woman writhing beneath him. Moaning, whimpering his name. Teasing, taunting him. Longing for his touches, his kisses, his sexual energies to finally, finally bring her to complete release. He happily complied, letting his mouth wander, his hands wander. Repeatedly thrusting until she achieved a spasmodic release. Coming hard, fast as he did. Then again, slower, surer, making certain the enzyme was gone but actually indulging in an hour of absolute sexual pleasure. Possession. Release.
Finally when they were done John rolled onto his back, exhausted. Sated. Satisfied. The sun beat down on him. He glanced at the blue sky. At his watch. The glen was no longer shaded. The subtle breeze was turning into a wind. Shaking the roses all around them. Plucking petals to swirl in the air, to land upon them. Soft curved kisses of reds and pinks. "Moira," he said lovingly. Tiredly.
Moira stared up at the sky, at the roses filling her vision as she turned her head. She quickly dressed, shaking out her damp, dirty clothing. She found her ponytail holder and fixed her hair. Wiped her hot face. Felt flustered, embarrassed but so satisfied. So very fulfilled. Calmer now that the driving need had been met. Even beyond what she had wanted. "I'm sorry, John." She swallowed. Her voice was a dry rasp.
He laughed, moved to get dressed. "Sorry? Whatever for? Ah...was this one of your own kinky fantasies, sweetheart?" he teased.
"No. Yes. I mean no...I'm sorry! Damn enzyme! I mean I don't regret it. I mean you were...you were amazing, John! I'm clear of the enzyme. You made doubly sure of that." It sounded like an accusation but he laughed again.
"I do what I had to do, for science," he jested. He stepped behind her, drew her against him. Kissed her throat. "My Moira."
"John..." She rested against him, closed her eyes. Caught his hands at her waist. "Do you really think we'll be here for days? For weeks?"
"Yes. I'm afraid so. Weeks more than likely. Why?"
"I miss my bed. And clean clothes."
He smiled. "Me too. The bed. The clothes not so much."
She elbowed him. "Hilarious, John!"
"True, Moira. And food. And beer. Lots of beer."
"Typical." She laughed. "Food. Ice cream."
"Hmm...ice cream. Oh yes."
She frowned, turned to see his suggestive expression. "Maybe not."
He laughed. "Don't you worry, baby. Ice cream is most definitely on the menu when we get back to the city."
"I don't think so, colonel." He smirked at her suddenly prim expression.
"We'll see, jungle queen. We'll just see."
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Evan shrugged, circled the DHD again. Glanced again at his watch. Met Ronon's bemused gaze. "What?"
"Nothing. Get it to work yet?"
"No. Colonel Sheppard was right. I can't see anything wrong with it either. And he knows more about these things than I do but he's, um..."
"Busy," Ronon supplied. Grinned.
"Yeah, busy. That doesn't mean he's...I mean you really think they're..." Evan faltered, uncomfortable. Looked at his watch again. "It's been nearly an hour!"
Ronon laughed. "Without a doubt."
"Maybe not. Moira's more sensible than that."
"She's under the influence of the enzyme. She was looking at Sheppard like a leopard stares down its prey. Poor guy." They laughed.
"True. But the colonel is more cautious than that. And he's not under the influence any longer," Evan reasoned. Trying to find a more comfortable alternative.
"No. But if a woman looked at you the way Moira was looking at him would you refuse?"
"No. I guess not, since you put it that way." They laughed again. Evan sobered, seeing John striding out of the tree-line. Clothes straightened. Hair combed. Appearing completely normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
John met their gaze with an almost bored expression. "Major, anything?"
"No, sir. It's like you said. Completely fine. Nothing is missing. I 've even tried dialing a few other addresses but it will not engage."
"Hmm..." John circled it. "So we're stuck here."
"I knew that two hours ago," Ronon stated, shaking his head.
John scratched his stubbly chin. "Crap. How is Parrish?"
"Conscious. Sore. Back to being himself," Evan answered, gesturing towards the Jumper. He watched as Moira walked out of the trees. Hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Torn shirt and pants brushed clean of dirt. She glanced at the men briefly, entered the ship.
"Is Moira–" Ronon asked, grinning ear to ear.
John scowled. "Not a word. I mean it!" He looked at the Stargate. "Let's go for a spin. Check out that city, see if we can locate our friends. Pop into space and try to send a signal."
Moira paused on the ramp to the Jumper, seeing Matthew cradling his head. "Matthew?"
"Moira. What hit me? I don't remember anything," the botanist complained, gently prodding an ugly welt on his jaw.
She smiled. "You ran into Ronon. You'll be fine now." She moved to the packs, grabbed her jacket and pulled it on. She slid into the co-pilot's seat as the three men entered the ship.
John closed the hatch. Eased himself into the pilot's seat. Glanced at her. "Cold?"
She shrugged, stared out the viewport.
He smiled. "Strap in. The tour of M1K436 begins. Unfortunately we don't have any refreshments or even a movie. But we will include a brief jaunt into space."
The vehicle flew smoothly, riding the warm air currents as the wind buffeted the trees. They flew over the abandoned city. John cloaked the ship, lowered it to get a better view. The cavemen were swarming the ruins. Tearing blindly at the rocks. Acting out in rage, not in any coherent pattern.
"What are they doing?" Moira asked.
"Mindless destruction," John answered.
"Maybe they want to turn on the auditory inhibitor," Evan suggested.
"At least they're far from the 'Gate," Ronon noted.
"Yes. Here we go." John lifted, lifted the ship. Flew into the sky, zooming into the atmosphere. Into space. He tapped his earpiece, the comm unit. "Atlantis? Daedalus, copy? Hello?"
"I don't think they love us anymore, sir," Evan jested. They laughed.
"Apparently not, major," John agreed. "Daedalus, do you read? Helloooo...."
Moira smiled. "No rescue today, John. Unless you're scaring them off."
"Wonderful. All right, let's see what's on the other side of the planet. It's not like we anything else to do today."