Natural Selection4
Allara looked up from her kneeling position to see Carson crossing to the cell. Two marines stood behind him, guns at the ready. Carson held a syringe with a very long needle. "All right now. This will hurt just a little," he advised.
"What is that? Poison?" Her eyes shifted to Ronon as he entered the room, stood in the shadows. "He wants to kill me!"
Carson glanced over his shoulder to see the grim Satedan. Looked back at the woman. "Yes, he does," the doctor agreed, "so if you would prefer to avoid death then I suggest you cooperate. I need to sedate you to obtain some samples of your bloodwork."
"Why? So you could release some vile pathogen into my system? So you can find a way to eradicate the runners who serve the Wraith? Some kind of bio-chemical alteration? You would use this for your own ends?
Carson stared, stunned. "You...you were a doctor?" he asked, glanced at Ronon.
"Yes," she hissed, drawing his gaze back to her. "I am a scientist. Except, unlike you, I have realized the Wraith are a superior, inevitable species. The final evolution of the–"
Ronon snarled in derision, cutting off her ranting.. "Superior? They prey on humans! They devastate whole worlds!"
"They keep the populations in check! They have superior technology and knowledge and–"
"Because they keep us from developing!" Ronon nearly shouted, striding out of the shadows. Even the marines tightened their hold on their weapons.
"They are superior," she reiterated calmly. "They are the final step in the evolution of the human species. They control our populations so we don't overrun the galaxy with our spawn."
"But they are not human," Carson tried to reason. "Only half."
"Which makes them all the more superior." Allara derisively eyed the doctor. "Look at you. A weak human, living here in a palace of the Ancestors, yet you know nothing. If the Wraith controlled this place think of the marvels they could achieve!"
"That will never happen," Carson assured, appalled at the very thought.
"The only marvel they would accomplish is the enslavement of the galaxy. Feeding off humans and destroying worlds. Except for your kind," Ronon nearly spat, disgusted. "You could thrive here under their rule. Betraying your own kind! For what? For what?"
Allara smiled, a weird, fanatical gleam in her blue eyes. "The end of days is upon us. For what marvels will we witness when the chosen ones establish their rule over all the worlds. The rings of the Ancestors will be their altars. The Ancient cities will be their temples once they achieve the Ancient power. The backward humans will be the food of the gods, serving them in all ways, in all means."
"That sounds like scripture," Carson noted uneasily. "Scripture of a sick cult."
"I've heard enough." Ronon spun his gun out of its holster, pointed it at the woman. "Get your samples, doc. And make it hurt," he added with a deadly smile.
Allara returned the smile. Stood. "I pity you. None of you will see the final paradise, where Wraith and human merge, become one. You will all be culled, your miserable lives spent in servitude, then a slow, agonizing death."
"Whatever," Ronon dismissed. "Doc?"
"Right." Carson was riveted. The sight of such ugliness coming out of the beautiful woman held him. Her scientific knowledge tainted by hateful fanaticism. He released the force field, cautiously approached. "Now, I just need to sedate you. Then we will set you free to–"
"I will never betray my masters. And they will revenge my death." She stood stock still as Carson stepped closer, needle poised like a sword. Then she spun. Carson managed to jab the needle into her arm but then was flung to the floor. The marines fired, but their bullets went wide of the spinning target who abruptly launched herself into flight over their heads, out of the cell.
Ronon fired, fired. Fired again. Allara screamed, fell with a lifeless thud at last to the floor.
Carson scrambled to his feet, ran out of the cell. "Ronon! Did you kill her?" Seeing the still form, the large holes blasted in the torso, the neck twisted at an odd angle he had his answer.
Ronon holstered his gun. "What did you expect, doc?" He loomed over the body. He kicked the woman with his boot, making certain. "Take all the samples you want, doc," he grimly offered.
*************************************************************************
Moira stirred, rolled. She reached out for the warm body that had been next to her. Found nothing. She woke fully, sat quickly. The clearing was a glorious green, shining with emerald light as the sun broke through the trees. "John? John?" she called, fearing he had left her. Left her like he had before on their first mission.
"Here, Moira," John called, stepping out of the shaded trees. "Get a bite to eat and we'll be on our way." He was holding the bio-scanner, frowning.
Moira relaxed at the sight of him, the normalness of his voice, demeanor. She nibbled on half of the ration bar that was left. That he had consumed the other half reassured her. She sipped some water, then grabbed both packs.
Wordlessly John joined her, took his pack and slung it over his shoulder. "This way." He gave a cursory glance to her injured foot, turned. Began to lead her towards the lake.
"John? Aren't we going the wrong way?" she asked. "Ford went that way." She pointed towards the trees behind them.
"Not any more. He's doubled back on us. He may have even passed us during the night."
"What?" She glanced round. Creepy shivers coursed up her back. She circled round, looking at the trees.
"But I doubt it, considering," he continued, following a trail back the way they had come, knocking foliage aside with his free hand. Keeping his thoughts on the task ahead, his tone professional, almost detached.
"Considering?" she asked, following on his heels.
"Considering we are still alive. And not in some damn cave. This way. There's a path circumventing the waterfall."
Moira followed him, puzzled but reassured by his serious demeanor. She glanced at the foliage, recognized no moss among the ferns and grasses. Bright blue lichen climbed along the rocks. Suddenly his steps became quicker. She followed, brushing past hanging vines, past blooming flowers of red, of pink. "John? John?" She broke into an awkward run as he sprinted down the pathway, pack flying behind him.
John cursed and cursed, berating himself over and over as he ran through the ferns. Brushing branches and vines out of his way he leapt over a fallen log. Nimbly he skirted round a giant boulder crawling with blue lichen. He dashed past the emerald pool, into the clearing. "Damn it! Damn it, damn it!" he shouted. Furious.
Moira darted from the jungle growth, skirted the pool. She reached the clearing, reduced again to a limp. The empty clearing. John was circling round the space where the Jumper had been. The empty space. Still cursing he angrily kicked at the flattened grass, glared at the turquoise sky filling with light.
John took a deep breath to calm himself, to think rationally. He strode to Moira who was watching him warily, hands at her sides. "Now he's really pissed me off! First he takes my lunch, and now he takes my ship." His words produced a quick smile from her. He sighed, ran a hand through his messy hair. "All right. We can always return through the 'Gate, but on foot it will take three or four days with that arduous climb." He glanced down at her injured foot, noticed she kept her weight off it. "If a rescue Jumper is on the way it will take a while to find us, given our current twenty and the search parameters."
Moira stared, uncertain. "What?"
He was still studying her foot, encased in the now dirty, torn orthopedic shoe. Part of her sock could be seen, a colorful splash of green and purple that made him smile. "Given our current location several klicks from the 'Gate, not to mention beneath it. The search parameters will be hampered by this planet's uneven geography."
"Oh." She sighed, held out her hand. "Give me your pack, then."
"What?" He met her resigned gaze.
"Give me your pack. You know what this means. You'll move much faster on your own. Leave me behind and go get help. Go to the 'Gate and contact–"
"No." He took her hand into his. "I'm not leaving you behind again. Ever."
"John, it's the only way. Look, there are no natural predators here. I'm not feverish. It makes perfect sense. A few hours here alone will be–"
"No. Remember the last time? That was supposed to be a few minutes, and you ended up stranded off-world for days, injured, feverish, in danger from all manner of–"
"A day," she softly emended, touched at his concern. The gravity in his brilliant green eyes. "This is different, John. Go. I'll be fine."
"No. Not with Ford and those cave creatures. Remember them? Besides," he added with a smile, "we need to find Ford's ship first."
"How do you know he came by ship?"
"It makes sense." He freed her hand to fiddle with the bio-scanner. "I haven't seen any of that moss, have you? It would be easier to search this planet by ship than by foot. Since he needs the enzyme he must have a ship, to track the Wraith, or to have a synthesized supply. It must be near here. This is where he came upon us, right?" He scanned the air with the Ancient device.
Moira looked round, remembering that encounter. The strawberry. The kiss. The innocence compared to their more sensual encounter last night. She chewed her lower lip, staring at the surrounding lush greenery. At the cascading waterfalls. At the emerald pool. At the crystalline shimmers in the rocks.
John was staring at her, distracting by the motion of her mouth, her lips. By the soft, soft sound she made, eyes narrowing in serious thought. She freed her lip, turning round to view the waterfalls and cliffs behind them. Whirled back suddenly as his gaze inevitably lowered, but quickly rose to meet hers. He smiled. She frowned. "This way." He headed across the clearing. She followed. "I've re-calibrated the scanner to detect any large absences of life. Like where a ship could be parked creating a void in the readings. It's here. It's close. With any luck it's even operational."
"Clever," she remarked to his back, following. Letting her eyes gaze wantonly on the way his body moved under the damp clothing. The muscles of back, arms, legs. The empty knife holster hanging just over his rear. His rear hugged nicely in the damp pants.
"Wait here." Through a tangled vine John could discern the outlines of a large object buried under heaps of torn greenery. He began to immediately tear away the vines, the leaves. Revealing an ungainly ship. A strange-looking vessel, almost shaped like a triangle, with two lower cannons. A cracked viewport revealed two seats and a dilapidated cabin. With not much room behind it. Finding the hatch John pried the lock. It slowly opened, stalled, opened fully.
He peered inside, keeping his body flat against the ship, listening. Satisfied he gestured towards Moira.
Moira was eying the ship, but her gaze was drawn to John. His careful, silent movements around the ship. His strength prying the hatch open. His body pressed to the ship, back against it. The lean length of him in the clingy black clothes. Recalling the feel of his body on hers she studied him head to foot and back again. Saw his hand gesture and smirked at her amorous examination.
"Are you coming?" John asked, meeting her gaze, impatient. Brows furrowing at her expression of suppressed hilarity at his words. Her intense gaze before it moved to the ship.
"Can you fly this thing?" she asked, limping towards the unkempt, hodgepodge ship.
He smiled. "Sweetheart, I can fly anything. Come on." He entered the vehicle.
She shook her head, rolled her eyes at his tone, followed. He slammed the hatch shut as she seated herself in the co-pilot's chair. She dropped her pack onto the floor, stared at the dials, the exposed wires.
John dropped his pack next to hers, slid smoothly into the pilot's seat. "No weapons onboard. No food. Bastard did eat our sandwiches," he sulked. There is some moss, however. All right, keep your fingers crossed." He flipped switches. "Watch this," he boasted as the ship powered up with a shaking hum. Powered down with a painful whine. Another shake. Something clanked in the back.
"Watch what?" she asked, sighing.
He hit the console with his fist. Met her gaze. "I think we're in trouble," he jested. Smiled as she did. Then he leaned over, under the console. "Ah...here...failsafe...or it just fell loose. Ow!"
A spark. He sat up, throttled controls. A surge of power rumbled the vessel. It shook, shook, then hummed. "Initializing full power. There...we have weapons, cool. No cloaking device. Maybe a shield..."
"Are you sure you can fly this thing?" she repeated, but the vehicle lifted off the ground. Albeit in a shaking judder.
"It's low-tech compared to the Jumper but we do have scanners. Keep an eye here," he tapped a circular blue screen. A light swept across it. "Any other ship will show up on that. Hold on. The inertial dampeners aren't as sophisticated as those on my ship." The vessel veered to the right, dipped low, but John brought it under control again.
"I noticed," she remarked as the ship shook again. Higher and higher they flew. Over the emerald pool. John turned the vehicle towards the waterfalls. "Can we make that?"
"I hope so," he said. The vehicle thrust forward, towards the largest waterfall. Into the water which rained down like gunfire on the haphazard plating. Into the cave. Plunged into darkness John flew on pure instinct, recollection. A wing scraped the cave wall. He tilted the ship slightly to compensate. Moira leaned to one side in her seat, as her belt gave way with a pop.
Abruptly they zoomed into the light. Picking up speed John flew higher, towards the cliff face. "I'll have to set down to dial the DHD then my–"
"Someone's here! On the screen!" Moira exclaimed. Then a Jumper flew into view. "Is that the rescue–"
The firing missiles answered her question. John swore, swerved, avoiding most of the fire. He punched the shields. Dimly they flickered. "Crap. Half-power only. Where the hell did Ford get this piece of junk? Hold on! I'll have to out-fly him."
"What? In this? Can you?" she asked, grabbing hold of the chair's bottom edge to avoid falling into his lap as the ship swerved again.
"Hey...it's me," he said, meeting her gaze. He flashed a grin, then grabbed another control. "Firing now. Crap, I hate to hit my own ship," he sighed.
The weapon's red laser clipped the Jumper's right pod, but Aiden flew around them smoothly. And fired.
"Crap, he has the better weapons too," John commented.
"He's firing again!" she warned.
"I noticed," he laconically stated. He threw the ship downwards, diving, diving. "Brace yourself, Moira. We're going down." He smiled suddenly, gaze glancing to slide over her.
"Down? You mean we're crashing? What?" she exclaimed at his oddly sensual perusal before he resumed attention on the controls. "John?"
They flew past the Stargate, down another sheer precipice past caves and waterfalls. Deeper. Deeper. Aiden followed, firing. A couple hits toggled the craft but John kept it steady. "Crap. I'm flying blind now." He banged a fist on the readout, but it remained blank. "How's the shielding?" He pointed, keeping his gaze on the increasingly nearer ground.
"Fifty percent. Thirty..." She watched the screen dim, flicker, the coverage growing smaller.
John yanked on the controls, pulling the vehicle up at the last possible second. Then nearly flipping it over as he turned to get behind Aiden. "I'm sorry, baby," he said sincerely to the ship. Fired on the Jumper.
Explosions rippled on the Jumper, but it's shields held. Aiden raised the vehicle. Disappeared.
"Oh oh," John remarked.
"He's cloaked!" Moira needlessly observed. "How are we going to find him?" She tapped the sensor array. "There's no trace of him. Shield is twenty percent, fifteen. John?" She looked at him. His expression was intent, thoughtful. Eyes narrowed.
"Watch and learn, sweetheart." He licked his lips, swerved the ship again. Falling towards the canyons and waterfalls.
The leisurely pace worried Moira. "John?"
"He won't risk firing on us. Not yet. It would reveal his twenty, oh, his position," he translated. "All the same..." He flipped switches, checked dials. "All of the shields are on our six, um, our tail now. Let's see..." He searched the canyons, swerving, dodging as the rocks grew higher, the canyons narrower.
"How do you know he's still there? Maybe he went back to the Stargate," she reasoned.
"No, he's still here," he commented. "Ah."
"Ah? What?" She peered out the viewport. Saw waterfalls. Caves. Approaching rocks.
"Hold on tight. Really, really tight, Moira," he advised. Smirked. "Clench tightly and hold on as hard as you can."
"What? What the...you...what are you..." she spluttered, hearing the sensual undertone, seeing his smirk. Her sentence was lost in a gasp as he plummeted the craft. Rapidly they lost altitude and height.
"Down, down, deep and fast," he commented lewdly, trying not to laugh at his own sexual thoughts, at her evident confusion and suspicion.
Aiden immediately fired. Several shots hit the rocks. Debris flew. Hit the water. Spray showered the vehicle. The shield flowed, crackled. An impact on the side sent the ship lurching violently to the right.
John rolled with the hit, using the added momentum to fall. He fired into the cliff face. Rocks flew. Crystal shards shone, shattered. Creating a blinding debris field of rubble and light. John flew straight into the mess, flew up, up and abruptly reversed, spinning the ship so fast Moira nearly lost her meager breakfast. He reversed into the water. The liquid rattled noisily on the ship, spewing steam. John eased backwards into a cave that was barely wide enough to accommodate the vehicle.
He set it down carefully, cut all power, all dim lights, all sounds. Waited. Hand hovering over the controls, he waited. The water fell thunderously in front of them. "Well?" he asked, keen gaze trained on the mouth of the cave.
"Impressive," she said around a dry mouth. She unclenched her hands from the seat, straightened. "Now what?"
"We wait. See?" He pointed. A strange waver through the curtain of water hovered, then was gone. Debris trailed in its wake. "He is partially visible now. Hunting us. So we wait him out. Hit him when the time is right. Take him down, retrieve my ship and go home. Simple."
"Simple," she echoed, dubious.
John stretched his arms over his head, shifted in the chair. "We have a little time to relax. Anything left to eat?" he asked, sounding bored.
She smiled. "Afraid not."
"I'd kill for a beer right now," he remarked dryly. "You?"
"Lemonade. With ice. Lots of ice."
"Ah."
"Ah again? Oh no," she lamented.
His fingers barely touched the controls. "Hold on. Really, really tight," he advised.
She sighed, clasped the chair with both hands, braced her legs in front of it. Felt muscles tense with the effort. "Okay.
"Do you prefer regular lemonade or pink?" he asked lazily, then grabbed the controls. The ship hummed to life. Shook. Lights flickered. The vehicle slowly rose. Rocks fell. "Moira?" he prompted.
"What?" she asked, incredulous. She could see the wavering motion of Aiden's stolen Jumper again. Close. Too close. Its nose breached the curtain of water. Rocks and crystal shards bounced harmlessly off it.
"Pink or yellow?" John asked calmly. He waited. Waited. Willed Aiden closer. Closer.
"What?"she repeated, tensing as the Jumper's nose extended past the water. The viewport was almost visible as the ship de-cloaked to shield.
"Pink or yellow? It's a simple question, Moira," he patiently repeated.
"P...p...pink," she stammered as the viewport was visible. Aiden at the controls. His startled expression. Mad scramble of the console.
John smiled. Was quicker. Fired mercilessly into the viewport and the pod drives below the ship. Explosions ruptured, fired. The Jumper lurched, reversing. John zoomed forward as rocks and crystals shattered around them, threatening to bury them alive. Water spewed as he flew through the waterfall, then descended, firing, firing after the falling ship. The Jumper was still flying but listing to one side. Spiraling in a weird descent. Its shields flickered as it hit the pool of water hard. An enormous splash vomited from the pool.
"John!" she shouted, but he pulled up in time so the water merely skimmed the belly of their ship. He circled, flew to solid ground back from the lake, set the ship down. "Aren't we going to the 'Gate?" she asked breathlessly.
"Not yet. I want my ship back," he cooly explained. "I don't like how this one handles."
She met his serious gaze, disbelieving. She shook her head. "How–"
He smiled, unbuckled. "See?" He pointed. The Jumper rose unsteadily out of the water. It skimmed the surface, landed a few feet from them on the bank of the lake. Sparks flew. The shield flickered like a shadow.
"John?" she asked at his movement. She grabbed his arm as he stood. "You can't!"
"Grab the bio-scanner. It's all we need."
"But you don't have any weapons!" she argued, snatching the scanner from the pack. She grabbed his arm again, hastening after him. "What are you going to do? Waltz up to the hatch, knock and politely request he return your ship?" she demanded.
"No. Don't be ridiculous, Moira. I'm going to walk. But yeah, that's about it. Except for the politeness part," he amended.
"John!" she exclaimed, exasperated. She stood in front of the hatch, blocking him. "I won't let you do this! You're obviously not thinking clearly!"
He smiled. "And how are you going to stop me, Moira?" he asked evenly.
She frowned. "John, I'm serious. You can't do this! You're no match for Ford! He's probably dosed on the enzyme now and has all of the weapons!"
"Strawberries," he said quietly, gaze moving past her a fraction. Light was pooling at the bottom of the hatch, a thin line that had not been there.
"What? John! John Sheppard, listen to me, you son of a bitch! I won't let you–"
He pulled her into his arms, kissed her suddenly as the hatch opened from the outside. He pushed her against the wall, fingers sliding around a long, metal tube without breaking the passionate kiss. He whirled in front of her, swinging the tube with all of his might. It clanged against the barrel of a P90, crashing it to the ground. John leapt out of the hatchway, crashing into Aiden. "Moira! Ship! Run!" he shouted, grappling with Aiden to reach the gun.
Moira snapped out of stunned surprise, darted out and ran towards the Jumper.
John regretted the lack of enzyme as Aiden swung into him, knocking him backwards. John circled, but Aiden hit him again, knocking him against the ramp. Just as John had planned. He rolled with the punch, tasting blood, but grabbed the P90. He leapt to his feet. Pointed it at Aiden, finger on the trigger. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't kill you now!"
Aiden froze. Raised his empty hands. "Sheppard. The moss. You ate more, didn't you? It's toxic! Highly toxic! I found out the hard way. I can take it in limited doses but you? You won't last a day!"
"Don't worry about me. It's been handled," John assured. Flicked a glance towards the Jumper. Moira had reached it, had lurched into the ship. The Jumper hummed to life at her touch, but sputtered.
"The ship's toast, Sheppard. You shot me down!" Aiden accused, as if genuinely outraged.
"You were trying to shoot me down, lieutenant," John argued. "You're sick, Aiden! You need help. You can't carry on like this."
"Can't I? You'll become one of us, sir, that is if the toxic affects don't kill you first."
"Us?" John questioned.
"You'll be even worse, more mutated by the moss. Even now it is in your system. Can't you feel it, sir?"
"I told you, we took care of that," John repeated. Yet he did feel a surging adrenalin, different from the last time, somehow more insidious since his mind was clear. "If you come peacefully back with me now we can help you."
"Back with you?" Aiden snorted. "You should come with me!" He warmed to his words. "Join me, colonel! You and me, on the moss, if you survive, we would be unstoppable! We could take down any Wraith! Even a whole hive ship!"
"Yeah, that went so well the last time," John acerbically noted.
"This time will be different!" Aiden insisted. "I have a better team. No extra baggage. No damn scientists! Unless you insist on bringing her. She might be good for something." He smiled.
John scowled. "Do you really want to antagonize the guy holding the gun? Come back with me peacefully and we will do everything we can to help you, lieutenant."
"No! No, they'll never accept me. I'm better now! Better than I have ever been. Join me!"
John shook his head. "I'll never join you, Ford. I don't feel like conquering the galaxy today."
"Then I guess I'll have to go." Aiden sighed, genuinely disappointed. "In my ship. Yours is shot to hell, Sheppard. You'll never make it off this rock. Even the dialing device is inactive."
"I can fix it. On your knees. We'll wait for a rescue Jumper and you can tell me all about your new team. Either way you are coming back to Atlantis."
"I don't think so, sir!" Aiden rushed.
John shot him. Repeatedly. Until he was knocked aside. He fell to the ground hard, rolled as Aiden flew past him into the ship. The hatch slammed shut. A tile fell off the haphazard vehicle's side.
"John!" Moira shouted, standing on the ramp of the Jumper. "We've got contact! Evan!"
John stood, grabbing the P90. The ugly ship was powering up, shaking and humming. John raced to the Jumper, to the console past Moira. "Major!" he barked into the comm unit. "Major, this is Sheppard! Stop that ship! Stop that ship at all costs! Copy?"
"Yes, sir!" Evan's voice crackled over the radio.
"He's leaving. Ford," she clarified. John joined her, watched the ship rise, veer wildly, then fly into the canyons.
Deciding John returned to the console. "Major! Belay that last order. Return here. Copy?"
"Copy that, sir. Returning."
Moira walked over to John, touched his arm. "You're letting him go?"
He met her gaze. "The last thing we need is another dogfight. And I don't trust either ship of handle those canyons they way we did. Besides, we need to salvage parts of that Jumper to fix this one."
She smiled. "You mean they can't fly a ship like you can."
He smiled. "And that. Ow!" He touched the corner of his mouth. She turned to the back seat, produced a wet cloth, held it to his bloody lip. He pressed her hand there, fingers moving over hers. The gentlest of caresses. Their gazes held.
"Sir? If you don't mind me asking, why did you come here?" Evan's voice broke off the oddly intimate moment. Moira withdrew her hand, fingers slipping from his.
John pulled back the cloth to respond to the radio. "I haven't a clue, major. Moira, why did we come here again?" Quietly he added, "Besides the strawberries."
She smiled, then frowned. "Damn! The plants! The plants!" She hastened to the Jumper's rear, knelt. "Good! There are some here, but we need more! I have to get some samples for Doctor Parrish! And for Carson!"
John's gaze lingered as she knelt, leaned over to bag the moss spread on the floor. Her hips shifted, the pants clinging. Her long ponytail snaking down her back. John felt a rush of desire, forced himself to stare at the wall across from him. He moved out of the Jumper, eyes on the sky for the second Jumper.
"Can you fix this?" Moira had come to stand beside him.
"What? Oh, yes, I think so. I can cobble enough spare parts to make it work. To get us back to Atlantis." He paused. "Unless you would rather return with Lorne."
She glanced at him, wondered at his odd remark, his odd tone. "No. I'll wait here with you. Besides, I can gather more samples. I saw the moss over there," she pointed vaguely towards the lake, "and I can gather other vegetation as well."
"Don't wander too far," he warned, as the second Jumper appeared in the blue sky. Drifted down to a smooth landing. It disgorged a complement of marines. Evan approached, looking around the greenery. "Did the other ship go through the 'Gate?"
"Yes, sir," Evan answered. "Who was–"
"Ford."
"Ford! Sir, what–"
"Later, major. Deploy your men in a perimeter sweep. I don't expect any trouble but just in case let's look around. I'll need to pirate some crystals and cables from your ship."
"Of course, sir. Where's Moira?"
"Collecting samples. No," he ordered before Evan could pursue her. "I need you to help me with this. Why didn't you bring McKay? Or Zelenka?"
"Doctor Weir just ordered a rescue mission, sir. I think someone should be with Moira."
"No. She'll be fine. She won't wander too far."
"All the same, sir, I think that–"
"I said no," John stated firmly. "The sooner I can fix this Jumper the sooner we can all go home. I'm not losing another ship." He wondered at his strange reluctance to let Evan go to Moira, dismissed it. "Come on. Grab the tool kit."
Moira stopped, carefully collected another fern. Filling her pack with plastic bags of vegetation she stepped gingerly around the emerald pool. She glanced at the two ships, the marines keeping casual watch. Satisfied she knelt on the bank of the pool.
She scooped the moss out of the mud. Studied the spongy leaves, the tiny flowers. Recalled its affects on John. She sealed the bag, dropped it into her pack. Stood, lost in thought. Did not see the creature in the shadowed trees before she heard the snuffling.
Startled she turned, foot slipping into the water. She pulled her now soaking shoe out of the emerald pool, looked up to see eyes gleaming in the shadows. Several pairs in the undergrowth. She stared back at them, recognizing the gaunt faces, the skeletal outlines. The grunts had faded once she stepped past the moss onto drier, firmer land.
"Moira?"
A hand on her shoulder nearly made her jump. She whirled, knocking her pack into a man's stomach. "Evan! Sorry! You startled me."
"Are you all right?" He touched her cheek where a bruise was visible. "What happened to you?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine, really." She caught his hand, lowered it. "Our little run-in with Ford, that's all," she explained. "I'm glad you're here, Evan. Look." She turned. "At the trees."
He stepped closer, peering into the green gloom. "What? I don't see anything."
"Look, you...oh." She stared. The creatures were gone. Or at least unseen. "I saw...there was something in there. Several...creatures." She started to head for the trees. "We need to find them, Evan. I don't believe they will harm us."
"No, we don't," Evan said, caught her arm, pulling her gently back. "You need to see Carson, Moira. You are hurt."
She turned to him. "No, I told you, I'm fine. We need–"
"Good, but Carson needs to see you. He's found a new source of the protein that Ronon carries. A natural one."
"What? I've found a new source of the enzyme...it's original source. These plants–"
"Major Lorne!" Both jumped at the commanding voice, separated. John glared, bearing down on them. "Didn't I tell you that Moira was fine on her own?"
"Yes, sir, but I–"
"Do you think I would allow her to gather her precious samples if there was even the slightest chance of harm coming her way?"
"No, sir, but I–"
"I've got the alignment cabled. Go back to your ship and we can test the drives. Now."
"Yes, sir." Evan shot Moira a perplexed glance, hastened to his ship.
Moira slung her pack on her other shoulder. "John, what the–"
"Get enough samples?" he asked, gaze moving past her to the trees. His green eyes narrowed. His hand slid towards the holster on his thigh.
She turned too, stared. The creatures were back, eyes gleaming golden. "They weren't there a minute ago, but before..." She slowly turned to him. "How could you see them? John?"
He blinked, met her gaze. Took the pack from her shoulder. "Come on. I don't know about you but I am ready to get off this rock." Without waiting for her reply he strode round the emerald pool to his ship. Moira followed silently.
Once they had reached the ship Moira took the pack from him, set it inside. She watched him as he stood on the ramp. "How are the repairs?"
"We'll be out of here in a minute, Moira."
"That quickly?"
"Are you disappointed?" he asked. Turned to meet her gaze. Assessing.
"No. I mean yes...I mean...I...how are you feeling, John?" She stepped to him, touched his arm, studying his handsome face. "You've been through far worse than I have."
"Yes, I have," he agreed. "Far worse." He caught her hand before she could withdraw it. "But not all of it was unpleasant."
She pulled her hand from his. "You could still be suffering from residual affects of the enzyme. Are you sure you are feeling better? Ever since Evan showed up you have been...tense..." Her words trailed into embarrassed silence as realization hit.
"I am suffering, Moira. Hmm...why would I be tense? Do I seem tense to you?" he asked, closing the hatch. "Shall I tell you?"
"John?" She backed up a step but he followed her, trapped her against the wall. He placed his palm on the panel, effectively blocking her. He tapped his earpiece.
"All right. I'm testing the pod release. Stand back." He stepped closer to Moira, flipped down another panel and tapped a command on the keyboard. "It's all about release, Moira," he explained, gaze moving to her puzzled, suspicious one. "Release of pent-up energy. Thwarted operational parameters." He tapped the earpiece again. "Report."
"It's working, sir. Pods are fully extended. Both sides."
"You see? Retracting now, major." He tapped the keyboard, issuing the command.
"John? I don't understand," she complained, unable to move, blocked by his proximity. She could almost feel the heat from his body. Tension in every long, lean line. His voice was low, a sexy rasp to it making her react despite herself. He licked his lips slowly.
"I just explained it to you, Moira. Don't tell me you don't feel it too. I can see it in your eyes. The way you watch me. The way you move. The way you walk as if those tight, tight khaki pants were too confining, too probing to–"
"Fully retracted, sir," Evan's voice broke over the radio, into John's nearly husky accusations.
Moira blinked as if awakening from a spell.
John smiled. "Very good. I'll prep for flight. Get your team back on the ship. We will follow you back to Atlantis. Sheppard out." He tapped the earpiece again. "Release, Moira. You've explained the necessity of it yourself."
"For the, the enzyme, John," she retorted, blushing. Reacting to his provocations, "through physical exertion."
"It's not enough. Not nearly enough. You know that." He turned suddenly, strode to the pilot's seat. "Strap in. This may be a bumpy ride but we'll make it back." He settled into the seat, finding it much more comfortable than Aiden's ship. He brought the controls to life. The ship hummed quietly, powered smoothly. He looked over his shoulder. "Moira!"
She was staring at him, lips parted, brown eyes wide with a variety of emotions. She joined him. "I don't understand you, John. Are you sure you are feeling all right? You are going straight to the infirmary when we get home."
"I don't need a doctor. I need to have–"
"All systems a go, sir. Are you–"
"I'm fine!" John snapped, bringing the Jumper off the ground. "Go now." He switched off the comm unit.
Moira stared at him. "John? What's wrong? It must be the enzyme. Residual affects, unless you still have some latent...no...I can check the bio-scanner but you were reading as human."
"There's nothing wrong with me, Moira, except tension. Sexual tension." He laughed, a harsh sound. "How the hell am I going to write up this mission report? It will read like a pornographic novel, nearly so."
She winced, stared out the viewport. The Jumper rattled, but flew under his capable hands. "I hadn't thought of that."
"What are you going to put in yours?" he asked.
"I don't know. Nobody ever reads mine," she admitted.
"They will now. Especially after reading mine," he added, smiling wickedly at her. She stared, distraught. "Let me see...how shall I put it?" he continued, almost with savage glee. "The way you opened your thighs and gave me a lap dance to beat all lap dances...riding me so thoroughly you gave yourself a mini-orgasm, no a few, as I recall–"
"John Sheppard! That's enough!" she snapped, embarrassed. Aroused. "It must be the enzyme impairing your judgment again," she reasoned. "You're like a walking, talking piece of pure testosterone."
"It's not my judgement that's impaired. Go lower," he scolded. "And there is nothing pure about me, sweetheart. Or you, for that matter. My luscious Moira...wow...I'm getting off just thinking about our simulated sexual–"
"I'm sorry, John," she apologized. She leaned over to him, soundly slapped him. Hit his sore jaw with a wallop. "Focus!"
"Ow!" He relaxed his grip on the controls. Seemed to shake himself. "Moira? Did I just say what I think I just said? Out loud? To you? Dammit, I am sorry!"
"Just fly us home, John," she replied. "Don't talk. Just fly."