Natural Selection3
Elizabeth shook her head, staring at the woman in the cell. Allara was pacing. Strong strides that echoed in every muscle, every nerve of her petite body. Occasionally she would hit the bars. The blue forcefield erupted, stinging her, but she seemed to relish the pain, to welcome it. Then she would resume pacing. A fierce determination on her beautiful face. "Have you ever encountered a runner like this?"
Ronon scowled, standing beside Elizabeth to watch the monitor. "No. Never."
"Nor have I. She is quite...unusual," Teyla commented, shaking her head as she watched the prisoner. Admiring her skills although deploring their use. "She has had extensive training and is clearly a warrior."
"She tried to kill me!" Rodney exclaimed. He gingerly touched the bruise marks on his throat, avoiding the monitor and the caged woman it displayed.
"Because we removed the tracking device. Instead of avoiding people she would willingly lead the Wraith to them," Elizabeth explained. She suppressed a shudder.
"That is horrible," Rodney agreed. "How could I ever have thought she was hot," he bemoaned quietly to himself.
"You're not going to believe this!" Carson joined the group in the conference room, took a seat. "She has the protein!" At their blank looks he continued, "The same protein Ronon has. The natural protein that the Hoffans and I produced artificially with their serum. The Wraith cannot feed on her."
"The same protein? How is that possible?" Rodney asked, glancing at Ronon. His expression seemed fixed in a permanent scowl. "Is she Satedan?"
Ronon shrugged. "How would I know? Do you know every person on Earth?"
"Ah...point taken," Rodney conceded.
Ronon's glower got darker. "And no Satedan would ever willingly help or worship the Wraith. We would rather die," he firmly stated.
"As would most in this galaxy," Teyla added. "There are rumors of those who worship the Wraith...but I have never encountered one face to face."
"Looks like we have now," Evan remarked grimly.
"At first I thought the protein in Ronon's system was a fluke, or an anomaly. Or perhaps a genetic defense naturally occurring on Sateda. But now...with another specimen, it seems to have evolved in other human populations," Carson mused. "This is quite fascinating, really, the emergence of another–"
"As a natural defense? Against the Wraith?" asked Elizabeth.
"Yes. That was Moira's theory. A natural defense evolving over centuries of development and population growth. Hampered by the rarity of the protein itself and the cullings of existing populations. I wish she was here. I could use her help on this." He tapped his data pad.
"Sheppard hasn't reported back yet? That's odd," Rodney remarked, still fingering his delicate throat. Coughed discreetly.
"Perhaps..." Carson smiled.
"What? Well, he should be checking in by now, right?" Rodney asked. "Now that we have a crazy Wraith devotee in the city. What are we going to do with her?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Elizabeth agreed, eying each person at the table. "She obviously won't be very cooperative, will she? And she cannot stay. But she may have information we need. About others like her. Even about the Wraith."
"I could try to talk to her...perhaps as a woman I would be less threatening," Teyla suggested, with a shrug of her shoulders.
"You? You're more threatening sometimes," Rodney commented, causing her to smile. "I say we push her through the Stargate to the farthest uninhabited planet. Let her friends the Wraith take care of her from now on."
"If I could have a few more samples it could prove invaluable as to isolating that particular protein," Carson offered.
Elizabeth considered. Finally her gaze rested on Ronon. He was staring at the monitor, had not taken his malignant glare off it for nearly the entire time. "Ronon? What do you think? You haven't said too much."
"When does he say too...oh, sorry," Rodney bit back his jibe, coughed quietly to indicate he was still injured.
Ronon tore his glare from the screen. Met Elizabeth's inquiring look. "I say we kill her."
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John hit the water hard, sank to the bottom as he strangled Aiden. The lieutenant wrestled free but John caught his leg, yanked him down into the turquoise depths. Punched his gut as he wasn't underwater at all. Crystal shards smashed as they slammed into one of the taller pillars.
John reached for his knife but the holster was empty. He dove under Aiden as the other man swung his fist. Instead of hitting his adversary he hit another crystal pillar. It shattered, almost ringing like a bell. John swam, swirled and kicked out at the lieutenant, but Aiden had quickly whirled and finally landed his closed fist into John's side. John sank with the impact but again grabbed Aiden's leg, keeping him submerged. Until a kick knocked his chin and Aiden was free.
Moira ran to the bank of the lake, nearly fell as her foot cramped. "John! John!" she shouted. The calm surface of the water revealed nothing. Nothing of the furious fight beneath. "Dammit I wish Carson was here! John!" Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart hammered. She took a few steps into the water. It was cool, soothing.
A splash drew her attention. A man emerged, gasping for air. She stumbled backwards, out of the water as Aiden swam, then staggered out of the lake. He glared at her, headed right for her. Moira couldn't move fast enough and suddenly he had reached her, caught her arms and shook her. "What did you do? What did you do?" he demanded, spitting water.
"I–"
"Did you give him all of it? Did you?" Aiden nearly screamed at her, furious. Fingers dug into her bare arms.
She winced at the pain he was inflicting. "He took–" she began, voice strained.
"How could you do that? Do you know what you've done? Do you?" he shouted, forcing her backwards, not loosening his grip. "Why did you do it?"
"You forced him!" she argued, trying to pull free. Her foot cramped and she cried out in pain. "You forced–"
"You bitch! You've killed him! You've killed him!" Aiden screamed at her, shaking her again.
"It was you! You!" A splash made her look past Aiden's furious face. She stared, all pain forgotten. Her struggles ceased.
John stepped out of the lake. Water cascaded down his drenched form. The black t-shirt and blue pants were molded to his long, lean body. The water sparkled in his dark hair. Sparkled on his skin as it dripped down his face, his neck, his bare arms.
"How could you do it? Tell me! How much did you give him?" Aiden demanded, but Moira's gaze was locked on John, relieved he was alive, worried at his state, startled by his vitality.
"Let her go."
The quiet words were deep, slow. Aiden released her, shoving her back. He whirled. "Sheppard? You–"
"I said let her go!" he snarled, rushed at him. In a second he was up the bank, crashing violently into Aiden. Moira fell to her knees as her foot gave way. John flew several yards with Aiden. Both hit the ground hard. John sprang to his feet, as did Aiden, but John pivoted, foot flying to land in Aiden's gut. Fists flying to land on jaw, nose, neck. Aiden staggered under the rapid assault, fell. A cracked lip bled profusely.
"Don't ever touch her again!" John ordered harshly. Aiden struggled to his feet but John pounced on him, beat him to the ground. His fists smashed into Aiden's unprotected face, body.
"John! John, no!" Moira stood, lurched towards him, half-dragging her foot. "John, please, you'll kill him!" she shouted. "John!" She grabbed his arm before it swung again at the now unconscious Aiden. She fell to her knees.
John twisted, fist flying back towards her. He froze, stopping the momentum before smashing her face. Moira gasped, released his arm and quickly stood. The speed and sudden stillness were eerie, unnatural. She backed away, limping. Froze. John slowly stood. Using the back of one hand he wiped the blood off his lip. Spat.
Moira tried to calm her racing heart, her rapid breathing. John stepped towards her, a feral gleam in his intense green eyes as they raked over her. Soaking wet he still moved with a feline grace.
"John, John, it's the enzyme. You need to relax. It's all right," she said, trying to soothe him, but her breathless voice caused other reactions. As his sensual gaze raked over her again she felt a rush of desire, so strong it was almost a physical blow. She took another step backwards.
John stepped to her, caught her arms in a gentle grasp. Ran his wet hands down her warm skin to her elbows where the marks of Aiden's grip stood out as angry red lines on her soft flesh. He eyed them, then met her gaze. "Moira."
"Yes, John," she said, after swallowing. His voice was low, gruff, sending a shiver across her skin. "I'm all right, really, we'll be all right now. Evan will come looking for..." She stopped, regretting her words as a glint of anger stole across his handsome face, then was gone. He pulled her to him. He kissed her. His mouth claiming hers hungrily, searing as his hands ran down her back to her rear. He thrust her body against his, pressing her against him. Every inch.
Moira's muffled protests drowned into his mouth. Drowned under the teasing thrusting of his tongue. Dissolving under his nimble fingers as they gently squeezed her rear, causing her to squirm against him. She ran her hands up to his chest, his shoulders as she eased back, breathing heavily, freeing her mouth from his. She moved against him, then away as his arousal was all too evident. As was her body's response. She blushed. "John, you–" But he kissed her again, demanding, insistent. He moved her back and she awkwardly stumbled, fell to the ground. Smoothly he followed her, hands moving to part her thighs, to move between.
"John, you–" she tried again, but gasped as he moved her onto her back, kissing her again. His fingers pried at her pants, wandering, searching for intimate details until she caught his face between her hands. Using all of her willpower she focused her words. "John! John, this isn't the time or the place," she reasoned, trying to reach him. Trying to stifle her own ardent yearnings. "I know you can hear me, John. I know you are still there."
He stared at her, blinked. "Moira?"
"Yes, John. Let me take care of your injuries. The enzyme is affecting your...your judgement," she explained, trying to scoot from beneath him.
"My...judgement?" he asked, shifting with her, not letting her go. He smiled, hands sliding up her waist, pushing her shirt up to her bra. "I don't think that's my judgement," he argued, kissing her again. Abruptly he slid down, ran his mouth down her side, down her bare skin, down to her pants.
Moira shuddered, almost lost herself in the erotic entanglement but caught his arm, yanking as he lifted up, prying at her pants again. "John! What about Ford?"
"Ford?" He rolled off her smoothly, stood. "Ford."
"He's out cold, John, don't–" she warned, sitting up, shoving her shirt back down over her as he took a step towards the prone figure of the lieutenant. "John?"
He looked at her, clearly torn. Suddenly he grimaced, doubled over. He sprang to the trees, fell to his knees and vomited.
Moira moved to her feet, startled, wincing at the continued retching sounds. She pursed her lips together, suppressing her own gag reflex, and walked to Aiden. She stared at him. Nudged him with her good foot. The man was unconscious, his face a bloody mess. His nose askew. One arm bent at an odd angle. Blood seeped from his side. Moira stared, appalled at the damage. At the sheer ferocity.
Hearing a noise she whirled, suppressed a moan as her foot twisted. John was struggling to his feet. Slowly she headed for him, seeking the shaded area of clearing, but fell again as her foot cramped.
John wiped his mouth, grimaced at the undigested vegetative mess he has spewed upon the ferns. His stomach cramped. He saw Moira fall. He staggered towards her, fell himself and groaned.
He clasped his head, his stomach, rolled onto his side. The sunlight was agony and he closed his eyes tightly against it.
Moira crawled to him. She gingerly touched his arm. "John? John...relax." His body shook, then went still. His breathing slowed. "It's just the detox," she realized. "You don't have a tolerance for the enzyme in this raw form...thank goodness!" She sat, unmoving as a breeze chilled her now wet clothes. She turned to keep an eye on Aiden, kept her hand on John's bare arm. A reassuring warmth. "I hope you wake up first," she whispered, glancing up at the purpling sky.
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All eyes were on Ronon. He shrugged again, met the startled, appalled gazes of his companions. "What?" he asked, genuinely baffled by their silence.
"You can't be serious," Rodney said.
"Why not? She is a threat. Not only to us but to everyone. Wraith worshipers betray every human in this galaxy by aligning with those monsters. Sheppard would agree with me."
"Whether he would or not is not relevant. Besides, he is not here. I am. And we will not sink to their level of–" Elizabeth staunchly began.
Ronon laughed harshly, cutting her comments. "You can't compare them to us. You have no idea of what they," he jerked his thumb towards the monitor, "are capable of, do you? Have you ever been faced with this kind of treachery? If you lived a lifetime in this galaxy, constantly under the threat of brutal cullings you would understand."
"I am afraid that Ronon has valid points," Teyla stated. "As outsiders, you cannot possibly understand how our life has been here."
"True," Rodney conceded, "but we've had our own share of treachery back on Earth. Our history is riddled with it."
"No, Rodney," Elizabeth raised her hand in a hush gesture, "Ronon and Teyla are right." She looked up to face the Satedan squarely in the eyes. "You are right, Ronon. We have never had an experience like yours, like Teyla's, like anyone's here in the Pegasus galaxy. Living day to day, year to year, decade to decade under the Wraith threat...we can't imagine whole worlds enslaved and impoverished by those creatures."
Teyla inclined her head in graceful acknowledgment Ronon grunted. Carson stared. "Elizabeth...are you seriously considering taking her life?"
"No." She glanced at Carson, at the monitor where the woman was kneeling in the middle of the cell. As if in prayer. "We don't kill people. Not even our enemies in cold blood. Carson, if you need more samples of her blood and tissues you will take them now."
"Yes. I could use more..." the doctor agreed, reassured but still uneasy.
"And then what?" asked Rodney.
"Then we will send her to another world, as you suggested, Rodney. Without the tracking device she has no way to contact the Wraith, correct?"
"Yes."
"What if she has Wraith DNA, like Teyla?" Rodney posited.
"Carson?"
"No, Elizabeth, she does not. Of that I am certain."
"Good. So even if choose a sparsely populated planet she can do no harm."
Ronon shook his head. "I disagree. She is evil. She will spread her lies and try to convert people into Wraith worshipers. She will find a way to contact them, or they will find her, and when she does reach them she will tell them all about us," he warned.
"I doubt that. How could she contact them?" Rodney wondered. "I think you are letting your paranoia over these Wraith worshipers go–"
Ronon slammed his palm onto the table. The monitor jumped. As did Rodney. "You don't understand! She is the enemy! Maybe even worse than the Wraith because she is willingly helping them!" He stalked out of the room, furious.
"Ronon!" Teyla called, rising to her feet. "You must try to understand. For us it is the highest insult to even consider helping a Wraith worshiper. Anyone who does is considered a traitor to their own people. Excuse me." She hastened after her friend.
"Teyla! Ronon, wait! We–" Elizabeth made to follow when Rodney stopped her.
"Let him go. Teyla can talk sense to him. Believe me, you need to let him cool down. I think you had better contact Sheppard. If Teyla can't reason with him John's the only one who can talk any sense to him and he will listen. Usually. Right?" He looked around the room to see various shrugs.
"I think you are right, Rodney," Elizabeth acquiesced. "Major, please do the honors."
"Of course, ma'am," Evan agreed.
"Right. I'll get my kit and get those samples. But I will sedate her first," Carson stated.
"Yeah, you had better give her a double dose," Rodney agreed, once more touching his bruised neck.
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"Ronon!" Teyla had to run to catch up to the Satedan's long strides as he swept down the hallway to the exercise room. He whirled, long coat flying out like wings as she approached, a look of stubborn sympathy on her face. "You must be patient with these people."
"So you keep telling me!" He strode into the room, turned again as she followed. At a narrowed glare a couple of marines who had been sparring quickly left, dropping their sticks in their haste.
"And I have been. Patient with them. But this...surely you can't stomach this! Humane treatment for a worshiper?" he spat out the word.
Teyla shook her head. "No, I cannot. But it is their way. It once was ours, before we learned of those who would betray their own people, their own species. We must honor their ways, Ronon. They have listened to us. But the final decision is their's."
Ronon nodded, clearly unhappy. "I know. If Sheppard was here he would see what to do. He's a soldier. He knows when to kill. When it is necessary."
"Yes. But he is not here. Weir is. And if she is more comfortable with banishment then so be it. You cannot change her decision. Nor can I. We can only offer them our experience, our knowledge." She sighed, touched his arm. Felt the tension. "Now...Doctor Beckett is going to take his samples. Should you not be there in case he needs your help?"
Ronon sourly nodded. "Yes. I should. I wish I had some of your patience."
She smiled up at him. "Only if you give me some of your height."
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Moira jerked awake from her dozing. Hours had passed. The purplish sky was turning violet. A bright white moon was on the verge of rising over the canyons as the light faded gradually from the sky. Moira knew she should stand, check on Aiden, tie him up somehow, find a weapon, but she was so tired. So tired, and did not want to leave John. His solid, reassuring warmth at her back. Recalling how she had nearly succumb to his rough but arousing seductions she sighed, uncertain. She rubbed her aching foot.
John moaned. His head ached. Muscles screamed in protest when he tried to move. Images racked his brain. Water. Fighting underwater. Moira. Moira beneath him, their bodies locked in friction, but no release. The taste of her mouth. The taste of her skin. He groaned, but not with pain this time. He felt a cooling breeze. Felt his clothes sticking to him. Felt a warm pressure at his back.
He turned onto his back, flexing muscles. Tasting blood he touched his lip, his jaw. Viewed the blood on his raw knuckles. Memory flooded back into his brain, disjointed images. Violence. Lust. He sat up suddenly, turned. "Moira? Moira?" He shook her shoulder.
Moira had drifted off again, slumped against him. She woke, straightened, looked to where Aiden still lay. "John? What is it?" She turned to him, wincing. She touched her foot.
His gaze followed her hand. "Did I do that?"
"No," she assured.
"Did I do this?" he asked, touching her arm. The marks remained. Red bruising on her skin.
"No. That was Ford. He's over there, still unconscious but alive," she hastily informed him. "You did quite a number on him. You..." She touched his arm, felt a wave of tears and looked away from his concern. "I was afraid you had drowned."
Misinterpreting he touched her jaw, turned her face to his. "I don't remember much clearly. Did I...did I...did we..." he found the words difficult and swallowed.
"No." The one word made him almost sag with relief. Regret whispered. "Nothing happened. Like that, I mean, I mean nothing...the enzyme left your body all at once." She studied the ground as if it was intriguing.
"Yeah, I remember that," he said, the disgusting taste lingering in his mouth.
"I suspect this form of the enzyme is more potent but also more incompatible with humans. I can't be sure because I am–"
"No botanist, got it," he finished for her, sounding more like himself.
She smiled, relieved. She rubbed her foot. "And you have little toleration for this form of the enzyme. It wasn't in you long enough to metabolize, at least I don't think it was...it did, not all of it," she stammered, frowning in uncertainty. "I don't know about Ford. His body may react differently. It has a different chemical composition." She wiped her eyes as tears sprang, Aiden's accusations of her killing John echoing. She scooted her knees up to her chest. Hugged herself against the night.
John hesitated, uncertain. Wondered at her emotional reaction. He touched her shoulder, a gentle brush of his fingers on her. "Where is Ford now?"
"By that tree to the...oh oh." She stared. It was harder to see in the gathering gloom, but no prone shadow was discernible among the crushed ferns.
John moved to his feet silently, helped her up and led her towards the spot. Trampled grass and blood revealed where he had been. But was no longer. "Crap," John muttered. He squatted, eyed the ferns, seeing the blood trail weave through the trees. "We have to find him. This way. Stay close to me, Moira."
He led her, following the trodden crimson grasses, quickly turning to brown in the fading light. They circled the lake, now an expanse of cobalt blue as the sunlight dimmed. There was still enough light from the rising moon for the crystalline structures to sparkle like diamonds in the cliff faces. The sound of the waterfalls was almost deafening.
The ground widened out to another clearing. Trees parted, forming a shadowed barricade on one side. Moira suddenly moved ahead of John as he stopped. "Our packs!"
"Wait!" He grabbed her arm, stopping her. "It could be a trap." He scanned the clearing, the trees, the grasses. Less blood dotted the foliage. He listened, could only hear the thundering water. The breezes. "Slowly," he decided.
She led him to their packs, squatted and rifled through them as he stood guard, after a quick but appreciative perusal of her rear as she leaned forward. "No weapons. No medical supplies! Damn! Even the aspirin is gone! Oh, here. I'm starving!" She produced a ration bar, tore into the wrapping and bit off a chunk. "Here," she offered him another.
"No, thanks. Puking up moss killed my appetite."
"Oh. Right. Sorry." She pulled out a water bottle, opened it and took a long sip. She closed the cap. "Here." She tossed it towards him but he had moved away from her. Nevertheless he shifted, stepping speedily, bending a knee to catch it deftly. He unscrewed the cap, took a sip. Swished and spat. Then took a long swallow. He screwed on the cap, saw her wary gaze. "What?" he asked.
Suspicious she returned her gaze to the packs. Ate her ration bar. "Nothing. That's all we have left. One more ration bar, and that bottle of water. Oh, and this." She pulled out a bio-scanner. Frowned. Sighed. Smiled.
John unscrewed the bottle, took another deep drink as he watched her. "I don't think getting drinking water is going to be a problem here," he quipped. She was digging in the pack, pulled out a cloth band. She lifted her arms, gathering her hair behind her into a ponytail, securing it with the band. She pulled the damp t-shirt from her chest where it clung. She folded her knees under her, shifting her hips and weight to ease the strain on her foot. She held the bio-scanner. It's screen gave off an amber glow.
"We may have to have sex," she stated, as a matter-of-fact. Water sputtered out of John's mouth as he had taken another drink. It was as if she had read his thoughts. He screwed the cap tightly on the bottle.
"What?" he asked, his voice caught in a hoarse rasp, between bewilderment and desire. Every muscle tightened, tensed.
Moira was still studying the scanner. Very aware of him standing there, watching her. "I don't think all of the enzyme has left your body. You got most of it out when you...ejected it," she tactfully amended, "but your body did absorb some of it. You released some fighting Ford and then...that...um...anyway," she referred obliquely to their almost tryst, "but the way you caught that water bottle and your heightened senses make me suspect you are still infected with it. If I tested your sweat I bet I would find traces of the substance."
"So..." he said, walking closer to her, circling round her like a hawk circles potential prey before it strikes, "because I caught a water bottle you want to have sex with me. Here. Now. Not that I'm objecting or anything."
She blushed, tapped the bio-scanner's screen, not daring to look at him. "You're still reading other. Half as human. Half as other. Look." She turned it towards him, pointed. "This is me. This must be Ford, about half a mile from our position. This is you. The half and half reading. And judging by the fact you can read this scanner from there, in the darkness, just proves my original assertion that you–" She gasped as he knelt to her, took the scanner from her hands to make her meet his gaze.
"I see. And this is purely based on scientific speculation? On biological calculations?"
She opened her mouth to answer, lost for words. "I...yes...no...yes...John..."
"I don't want to be a scientific experiment, Moira. We're about to go past the point of no return. If we do this....how much is because of what we want and how much is because of what you think I need to become myself? Because of my own heightened animalistic urges?"
She swallowed, unable to pull her hands from his, her gaze from his. "I...I don't know..."
"Exactly. As much as I want you, and believe me, I do want you, I can't do that to you. To us. To what might happen between us otherwise. I won't. Not here. Not now. Not like this."
He freed her hands, sat back. Licked his lips. Tongue moving slowly over his mouth.
Moira's gaze was riveted but she snatched the scanner from the grass, checked it again. She didn't know what to say. Overwhelmed, impressed, puzzled, enamored, she could only stare at the amber screen and its coldly logical assertions. "It's...it's a little over half now..." she noted with dismay. She set it on the pack, stood, turned away from him. Breathing deeply of the cool air. Twilight had deepened to a violet, velvet blackness. Relieved only by the rising moon casting the clearing in a sheen of silver. Relieved, frustrated, worried she said, "Well, you have to find some way to get rid of the enzyme before it increases in your system. So, so either find someone, something to fight, or, or, or simulate release of your, your libidinous–"
He laughed, a natural, human sound but with a slight edge. "Are you telling me I need to jack off to re–"
"Whatever it takes!" she snapped, furious. "Just do it now!" She stomped away from him, staring at the darkness as her face burned. She closed her eyes, suppressing a tremble that ran through her entire body.
His hand ran up her back. She whirled, lost her footing, but he righted her. "I can think of a better way." He drew her close, kissed her gently. "I wish I had a breath mint," he joked, but she had pulled back from him.
"You said you didn't–"
"I said I wouldn't," he corrected. "But you said simulate," he countered with a smile. "So unless you can find me someone to beat mercilessly this will have to be it. I'm trusting you to stop us before I lose control. All right, Moira? It's all in your hands, not mine. Just get us to the point of release."
She hesitated, tempted. Torn. "All, all right, John,"she agreed slowly. She ran her hands up his chest, up to his shoulders. She kissed him, pressing her body to his. She shifted, rubbing her body against his, murmured audibly until the desired affect was keenly felt. She drew him to the packs, raining kisses on his lips, his sore jaw, his throat. Running her hands down to his trousers. To tease. To tug.
John groaned, moving her down to the ground, his mouth seeking hers, hands seeking under her shirt, then sliding into her pants. His tongue slid across his cheek to glide along her throat. His body thrust against hers as it squirmed beneath him. His fingers slid up under her shirt again, under the bra to firmly grasp a breast, to cup its fullness against his palm, to gently knead.
Moira knew in this position she could rapidly lose control, just from the fact of his weight pressing her down. She abruptly pushed him onto his back, freed herself and straddled him.
"John Sheppard, after this you are going to owe me a very large drink. With lots of ice," she said sternly, began rocking in momentum. He smiled, ran his hands up her thighs but she caught them, pushed them back against the grass. Leaning down to kiss him, taking his tongue into her mouth as her breasts brushed along his chest. Then she was upright again, gyrating, grinding as he was thrusting up with her, the barrier of their clothing not hindering the acceleration of his hardness, her wetness, their mutual desires.
"My goodness, colonel, that is some big ordnance you've got in there," Moira stated breathlessly, eyes widening as she felt his erection keenly now, even through their clothes.
"You have no idea, doctor, but you will," he said smugly, voice strained as the passion grew, grew, as he could feel her dampness all but inviting him.
Moira could feel it coming, even like this. She opened her legs wider, riding him harder. Faster. Quicker now, nearly flying off him before crashing onto him again. She gasped, moaned. A little spiral of pleasure, then another blossomed, her body reacting vividly to his. "Now? Now?"she asked in a whimper.
"Almost," he groaned, the tension unbearable, the pants painfully tight. The underwear too confining. It took all of his willpower not to grab her, not to rip the clothes from them both to achieve maximum contact.
"Now? Now?" she asked, arching as another wave hit her, a teasing taste of what could be much, much more if not for the impediment of clothing. "What's taking you so long?"
"Stop asking me that!" he snarled, about to break, about to come in his pants. Suddenly realizing that was the goal. "Now!" he growled, nearly throwing her off as he rolled to the side, savagely unzipped his pants and freed himself from all confines.
Moira sprawled on her back, on the grass, exhausted, somewhat sated. Amused. Embarrassed. She slowed her breathing, shifted in her sodden underwear. An audible moaning told her he had finally achieved release. The short spasms of his body next to hers. The quiet grunt and strain. The long exhalation of breath. She closed her eyes, trying to block the experience, but failing.
"I wish you would stop asking me that," John grumbled when he could trust his voice. He reassembled his clothes. He felt sticky, sweaty, sated but far from satisfied. Amused.
Moira scooted closer to the packs, rolled onto her side to check the bio-scanner. "I'll check the readings,"she said softly, a slight quaver in her voice. "Don't move. Stay there," she warned, let he touch her. Reignite the whole cycle. "Okay...okay...here we go...slowly now...slowly..."
"Could you just say yes or no?" he chided, taking her breathy words in an entirely different way.
"There! You are very nearly clear of the enzyme. Only, only about ten percent remaining. By morning you should be clear. I think."
"Really?" he asked into her ear. Suddenly he was there, lying next to her, his body spooning hers as his arm encircled her waist. "Maybe we should go again to be absolutely certain, Moira."
"Hilarious, John," she chided.
"Hilarious? I think we should go again, Moira," he insisted, irresistibly drawn. "After all, we just had sex without having sex and it was pretty amazing. Imagine how it would be if we did take off our clothes and had sex."
"John, you are not in the least amusing," she sternly scolded. She moved but he held her close to him, pressing her rear against his crotch. He ran his mouth along her cheek, down her throat.
"I could always return the favor," he intoned low, hand sliding down between her legs. Felt her dampness. She caught his fingers but not before he elicited a soft moan from her, a subtle stroke creating a wave of arousal. She pulled his hand back to her waist.
"No."
"We did it for science, Moira, pure and simple. Well...as pure as we could, since we didn't actually achieve penetration."
"John! Shut up!" She elbowed his stomach.
"Ow!"
"According to the scanner Ford hasn't moved from his previous position."
"Wish I could say the same," he ruefully commented. "What a sweet twenty that–"
"John!" She elbowed him again but he caught her, pulled her onto her back and moved over her. He kissed her lengthily, causing her to murmur, to shift under him, both welcoming and protesting all at once.
"I honestly don't know what to make of you, Moira O'Meara. But I do intend to explore you thoroughly." He smiled, rolled off her and laid with his back to her. "Get some sleep. We can't track Ford in the dark. At first light we'll catch him. Give me the bio-scanner. I'll keep an eye on him."
Moira was still reeling from the kiss. Wordlessly she handed it over to him.
He took it, set it near him as he cushioned his head on his bent arm. "Get some sleep," he repeated. "We'll be off this planet by morning. With Ford," he added firmly. "I can't even remember why we came here in the first place," he commented, finding the silence disturbing. Better to talk than to dwell on what just occurred, what could still occur. "I've been looking for that moss as we went, but I didn't see it anywhere. Ford must have headed back to where he found it. Don't you worry, I'm not going to eat any of it. That is, unless I absolutely have to eat it. I don't like the side effects, well, except for the increased...um..." he caught himself. "Anyway, don't you worry." He switched topics rapidly, lest he anger her, upset her, or arouse them both. "We'll be fine now, Moira, just fine."
He chanced a look over his shoulder. Moira was curled on her side away from him, clutching the pack under her head as a pillow. His eye could not help but follow the curves of her body, the slight way her rear was jutting out as her knees slightly bent. Chiding himself he rolled onto his back, folded his arms under his head and stared up at the myriad of stars.
.