Life, with a little spice 8
She wakes up a few hours later. It's still dark outside but John's already gone. He's left a note for her that says she shouldn't worry, that he needs to replace Lorne and not to leave their quarters until he's come for her.
Shep yawns, making her giggle. That dog loves sleeping way too much, she chuckles inwardly, though he's sometimes a pain when he decides it's high time everyone went to sleep so he can too. His look of pure disdain if they do not comply right away when he settles in front of them and locks eyes with them is always priceless and a source of great fun. She sighs with relief at having her dog by her side again and lets her hand trail on his back, making him groan with content.
She tosses and turns a few times until she knows that she won't go back to sleep. She pushes the comforter to the foot of the bed and sits, yawning. She's had way too little sleep to compensate for the hell of a week she's had but nothing, not even Jen's pills, will probably allow her to sleep the rest of the night away. She stands and trudges to the bathroom to shower and change then walks to her bedside table and retrieves the P14 she always keeps there.
She hardly ever walked around the City with a sidearm before, counting on the marines to protect her if anything should ever come up, but that was before Lucius. Ever since that guy managed to get hold of the City, she tends to carry it with her. She adds a couple extra magazines to her jacket pocket and whistles for Shep to follow her. Sure, John has told her to stay put and wait for him but she's got her dog with her and she's armed. Deep inside, she knows she's disobeying orders – again. She pouts. She knows he's going to be pissed when he finds out.
She passes her hand over the sensor all the same and heads towards the kitchen. The corridors are empty – more than usual, as people have been advised to stay in their quarters when not on duty. The walk to her kitchen is uneventful. No one is around so no one stops her.
She leaves Shep in her former quarters with the door left ajar. He's got a mattress there she keeps for when he comes with her. He's not allowed in the kitchen for obvious reasons but she often lets him come with her and leaves him for short periods of time either in the room or on the balcony when the weather is nice and sunny.
She stashes her gun and extra magazines in one of the drawers reserved for nicknacks and sets to work, donning her apron. She's halfway through her preparation of cream puffs for her croquembouche when John enters the kitchen, looking murderous. "What did I tell you?" he bellows, coming toe to toe with her. "And what the hell are you doin'?"
She sets her hands on her hips and tilts her chin up defiantly. It's way too early to have a fight. "Baking, what did ya' think?" she replies cockily, earning herself a glare.
"What did I say?" he demands, spacing out his words. She rolls her eyes at him. "And drop the attitude, lady," he advises her, his eyes narrowing at her. She trails her hands up his arms to his neck. It almost always works when he's angry. He usually softens when she gives him her best puppy look and pulls him into her arms. Almost, yes. And usually too. But not today. He takes hold of her hands and twists them behind her back. "What are you gonna do now, sweetie? Try to charm your way into my assassin's heart?" he mocks her, lifting his eyebrows. "Cause if it were not me but someone intent on killing you, you wouldn't stand a chance," he points out.
She looks away ashamedly. "I took Shep and my gun... And extra magazines," she adds anyway.
He sniggers. "Sure. 'Cause as I can see, that would have been very useful."
"Sorry?" she whispers, looking into his eyes.
"Don't use your puppy eyes on me, Louise. It's too damn serious and I don't have time for your antics," he chides her, releasing her. "Why on Earth did you come here? At least you could have called me. I would have picked you up."
She shrugs. "I needed to cook. I couldn't sleep. I was thinking a little too much..." She needs not say more. He knows how she feels when she's like that. She's been truthful about it long ago.
"Are you thinking about a certain addiction?" he asks, biting his lip.
She shakes her head. "No. It's just I had too much on my mind, what with everything that's going on and I wanted to shake off that feeling."
He bends towards her, looking into her eyes. "You're sure?"
She nods vehemently. "I won't lie to you. Ever. If I feel like I'm going to relapse, I'll head straight back to the infirmary," she promises.
He pulls her into his arms. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. With all you've been through recently, I should have," he berates himself.
She wraps her arms around his middle and breathes him in, his scent and strong arms around her always soothing her. "You don't have to apologize, John. You're the leader. You've got responsibilities. I knew it when I accepted to follow you here," she whispers against his chest.
"And I thought we also had an agreement on who I was when on duty," he adds pointedly though his tone is gentle.
"Sorry. Yes, I know. I did agree to obey your orders," she mumbles.
""And you've just disobeyed a direct order," he replies. She looks up and sees his embarrassment and pouts. "Louise, I knew from our very first mission off-world you'd be a thorn in my side. You're stubborn and reckless and so infuriating I should have grounded you that day. You'll never listen, will you?" he sighs and shakes his head.
She pouts again and remains silent. He's got every right to be pissed and yet she knows he's seen right through her – no matter how many times he's told her to be careful, she never listens, telling herself things will pan out just fine.
He sighs and passes his hand over his face tiredly. "What am I gonna do with you?" he asks her, his eyes boring into her.
"Are you mad at me?" she asks in a small voice.
"You bet I am!" he replies, not believing his ears. What was she thinking? That he would be proud of her for being careless?
She looks crestfallen. "Do you still love me?" she asks again, this time her voice hoarse with unshed tears.
He looks at her in disbelief then roars with laughter. "Oh, God, Louise," he says, shaking his head. "Of course I still love you!"
She wraps her arms around his neck and draws him to her, kissing him as if her life depended on it. She then whispers. "Cause, you know, he pushed me away at first." He understands she's talking about the older him. "I thought I didn't mean anything to him anymore. I couldn't live like this, John. I mean, if one day I infuriate you so much you cease to feel we belong together, you need to tell me."
He bites his lips and stares at her. "Where did that come from, Louise? Why on Earth would I cease to feel we belong? I was scared for you, hence the yelling and angry looks. I care about you," he adds, laying his hands gently on either side of her head and locking eyes with her. He feels her tremble in his arms and wraps them around her. As much as he tries to protect her from whoever could hurt her, it seems he's still failed to protect her from herself and her own abandonment issues.
He rocks her gently in his arms for a long moment and kisses the top of her head. "We still need to talk about your disobeying my orders," he reluctantly points out.
"I know," she sighs.
He pulls her towards the table and makes her sit down. He sits next to her and takes her hands in his. "Louise. I'm not fickle about my decisions on base. I don't give orders to be a killjoy. And if I learned one thing from your recent foray into our future, it's that I'll never allow you off-world without me again. We stick together. I can't afford to lose you. So..." he adds, pouting. "From now on and until further notice, you're grounded in your beloved kitchen. You're moving your things back to your former quarters and I'll endeavor to come by if I can." She looks crestfallen. "Look, you need to be here. I understand. The kitchens are not so far removed from the Control Room. I can keep an eye on you and be closer if something comes up."
She winces. "Do I have a say in the matter?" she asks.
He shakes his head. "You need to understand who's the boss here."
"I do," she protests.
His jaw twitches characteristically. "No, you don't," he counters. "You say you do. That's not the same thing."
"Will I see you tonight?" she asks in a small voice.
He looks away. "Don't keep your hopes high, Louise. I've got my hands full right now." He stands, releasing her hands.
She shudders. "Are you punishing me with not coming to my bed?" she asks.
He doesn't answer her. He drops a light kiss on the top of her head. "I'll let you finish whatever you were doing." He glances at his watch. "I'm already late for my first meeting," he says, heading for the door.
"John?" she calls after him. He glances at her briefly and lifts his eyebrows. "Can I come?" He scoffs and doesn't even answer her.
She looks around after he's gone and feels drained. What got in her thick head of hers to think he would let her go down easy? She realizes she's not been fair to him – putting him in a situation where he had no choice but to either allow her to be the teacher's pet or punish her severely – again. Her life feels like a f** groundhog day. They've been through that situation already, except last time, it was Woolsey who was in charge and she and John were not an item.
She sighs and trudges to her workstation. It's irrational but she needs to finish that dessert that's been at the top of her list for so long. Maybe if she completes the task, things will get better. Each time she tries to make it, something happens. The last time, she ended up wasting batches of cream puffs as well as a whole pan full of toffee for nothing – the whole cake looking like a Pisa tower. Cute, but not exactly what her grandmother would approve of.
She's almost done when her first prep cooks arrive for the morning watch. Wilson and Ridgeway having left them to get married and manage her B&B, and most of her prep cooks having decided to stay on Earth too, she's had to replace most of her staff. Some she knows well, especially her under-cook. He was a simple dishwasher when she trained at the SGC but he was always eager to learn. When they interviewed people for their new expedition, she saw his name on her list of applicants and knew he'd be an asset. She trusts him as she trusted Wilson and Ridgeway. When she's off-world, she doesn't need to worry about what people will get on their plates. She realizes she never saw him in her nightmarish future.
"Morning, Ma'am," he greets her with a smile.
"Morning, Kyle," she replies, smiling too. No matter how many hours they pull, he's always cheery and kind to everyone, making the other cooks see the bright side of things. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to start without me," she says, motioning to her dessert. She's halfway through it.
He chuckles. "Planning a wedding, Ma'am?" he teases her.
She bites her bottom lip, trying not to laugh. "Nope, except if I've missed something! I'm just trying to reproduce that nightmarish contraption my grandmother used to make for weddings, yes, as well as baptisms and anniversaries. It looked so simple when I watched her," she sighs in frustration.
He laughs. "Well, it's a good thing we're not having a wedding today or we'd be in trouble! Isn't your cake leaning backwards?" he wonders, circling the table. He tries not to laugh but fails poorly and snorts.
She starts laughing too. "Oh boy, I did it again!" she chuckles. "This has been a pain in my neck for months."
"May I?" he asks, pointing at the cake.
She shrugs. "Knock yourself out. I'll never set that on the dessert tray."
He removes one of the cream puffs that are being held together with the toffee and nougatine and pops it in his mouth. He closes his eyes and moans. "Ma'am, you do know how to make dessert. That's delicious. You bet you won't put it on the dessert tray. I know a few preps here who're gonna love it," he compliments her.
She nods and smiles. "Alright then. I'll just finish making it and you guys can have your sugar high."
Looking at them stuff themselves with her dessert before they start the midday meal service, she reflects it's not such a bad day after all. She sits at the table with them and allows herself one tiny piece of it and yawns. It's the moment of the day when she'd normally take a walk with Shep around the City and not doing it makes her feel sleepy. Amelia has come earlier to take him for a walk and then informed her he's currently with John in the conference room while the latter is conducting interviews.
"Aren't you going back to your quarters, Ma'am?" Kyle inquires. She's been here since the wee small hours of the morning and he doesn't mind supervising the midday meal.
She shakes her head and draws him to the side. "I'm not allowed to leave the kitchen for the time being, Kyle. Colonel Sheppard's orders," she says to him, pouting.
He nods. His boss is renown for getting on the wrong side of their leader. And Colonel Sheppard is not one for giving her a free pass because she's his companion. It's something that most people on board have come to respect though some still question their decision not to make it official.
He's already had a few quarrels with a couple of scientists who'd had inappropriate remarks about his boss. He's not minced his words. If Colonel Sheppard treats everyone fairly, then he believes everyone should respect their private life. Not everyone seems to feel the same way though.
"Listen. Why don't you go and I'll tie loose ends. I won't be allowed to leave anyway and I know for a fact you've already worked much too much this week, what with me being gone on that mission..." she offers. She sees him hesitate so she pushes him towards the door. "Go. Have fun. Enjoy your free time. At least one of us won't have cabin fever," she chuckles humorlessly.
"Thank you, Ma'am. I think I'll head back to my quarters. There's that book I still need to finish," he adds, his eyes twinkling.
She chuckles, knowing only her own addiction to books can beat his. "Go," she shoos him, smiling. "When you're done with it, I'll steal it from you," she teases him.
She hears John's voice on the City's speakers a little later on as the doors suddenly close. "Attention to all personnel. This is Colonel Sheppard speaking. I'm issuing a quarantine as of now. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill."
Most of her preps have already left and only the dishwashers on duty that day still remain in the kitchen. They look at her in alarm. "What do you think happened, Ma'am?" they ask her.
She shakes her head, trying to look cool though her heart is beating two hundred miles an hour. It cannot be a coincidence after what has just happened to her. "Your guess is as good as mine though I don't think we're in immediate danger. Try to remain calm. Colonel Sheppard knows what he's doing," she tries to reassure them. She taps her communicator but gets no reply, the system being probably saturated with all the people trying to call the Control Room. She snaps her fingers. John has told her to always carry a radio with her, just in case. She prays the battery is still working and switches it on. "John? This is Louise. What's going on?"
She gets static first but then is relieved to hear his voice. "Sweetie, I'm coming to get you as we speak. Stay put."
She sighs and plasters a smile on her face. His voice held a worried tone that does not bode well. "Don't worry, people. Everything's gonna be OK."
The door whooshes open and John gets in hurriedly. He takes her hand and pulls her to the exit. "You're with me." He turns to the rest of the staff. "You," he says, pointing at them, "stay put."
One of her younger staff steps forward, looking scared. "Can you tell us what's going on, Sir?" he asks.
John sighs but relents. "I'm going to announce it on the speakers anyway. Someone has been murdered and the killer is on the loose. We're keeping everyone where they are to conduct separate interviews. We'll try to be diligent but it might take a while. Sorry about that," he adds, wincing. He pulls Louise towards the door. "As for you," he adds, "I need your help."
They leave towards his office. Her hand is still in his but it's as if he were not registering her presence. She squeezes his hand gently. "John?" she says tentatively.
He turns to her, his jaw clenched. "I need to make that announcement," he repeats. He shakes his head then stops walking and turns to her. He puts his hands on her shoulders. "Sweetie, I needed to tell you first."
She gasps, her heart missing a heartbeat. "Who is it?" she demands. "Who got killed?"
He gulps and braces for her reaction. "Kyle. He was found dead in the corridor to his quarters. It seems he was returning there when he was attacked."
Her jaw drops at the sudden revelation. She feels like she's been punched in her stomach and doubles over in pain. He reaches for her and wraps her in his arms as she crumbles to the floor. It's hardly the first time this is happening to her. One minute, you think of nothing else but mundane things like what's for dinner and when am I gonna have time to finish that book and the next, your whole world is turned upside down.
"Breathe," he tells her, seeing her hyperventilating. She does as told and gazes at him. The pain he sees in her eyes – he'd do anything not to see it ever again. "Louise? Talk to me," he pleads.
She gulps. "Did he suffer?" she asks, her tears choking in her throat.
He shakes his head. "It's too early to tell. Keller and Beckett have taken him to the infirmary. They're going to do the autopsy. It might shed light on what happened."
She stands slowly and looks him in the eye. "What happened, John, is that I sent him to his death," she replies despondently.
"What? No! Of course not," he replies, shaking his head.
She shrugs. "It was his shift but I was grounded anyway so I told him he could take time off. Had I not, he would still be here."
He closes his eyes briefly and pulls her to him once more. "You're not responsible for every wrong in this world, sweetie. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Period."
She sits for hours in the Control Room while several interviews are being held simultaneously in the conference room and his office as well as in different parts of the City. They're trying to narrow down who was around at the time of death. None of her dishwashers having left the kitchens since the morning, they're allowed to return to their quarters once everyone on board has been accounted for.
Slowly, the tiny dots of the personnel start moving around again on the sensors. She's begged to help with the interviews but John believes she's too emotional at the moment so she's left with too much time on her hands. He's being irrational again, she reflects, not letting her leave, wanting to have her where he can see her. She finally corners him mid-afternoon in his office and demands to return to the kitchen. No need to have the whole population of the City starve on top of everything else.
He shakes his head stubbornly. "Uh, uh. I can't keep everyone cooped up or I'd have a riot on my hands but deeming some people innocent of this murder does not mean we're considering them trust-worthy. There might be more than one Trust agent on board."
"You're paranoid, John," she scoffs. "We don't even know yet if that has anything to do with the Trust, to start with!"
He huffs. "And you're being delusional, Louise," he counters. "Do you really believe this is just a coincidence?" She pouts. "That's what I thought! Stop trying to bend things the way you want them. It doesn't work that way, sweetie. There's a killer on the loose and for all I know, there might be more. And the fact that it was your under-cook who was attacked? That might not be connected but it might. I'm not going to let you gamble with your life again. You're staying with me."
She sits on the couch despondently. He points at her, waving her towards the door. "And get the hell out of my office, chef. I've got work to do here." She smiles sadly, knowing it's just a game he's playing to keep her on her toes.
She stands and walks to him. "Can I at least get a kiss, hug, something?" she asks, looking up at him hopefully. She badly needs to be in his arms right now.
He sighs. "Louise, everyone's looking at us," he points out. She sighs too and trudges to the door. He takes hold of her hand and squeezes it gently. "I'll see you later. I promise," he adds, seeing how despondent she looks. She smiles sadly and goes to sit in the gate room with Shep.
He finally lets her return to the kitchen much later, with Teyla by her side. They've worked for hours on the interviews and narrowed down the list of suspects to a dozen and are interviewing them. The rest of the personnel is allowed to move around the City but the piers, labs, jumper bay, generator areas, chair room and Control Room still have very restricted access.
The silence in the kitchen as they prepare dinner is deafening. No one talks. All ten people who've agreed to come and help in spite of the circumstances are deep in their thoughts, moving around the place like ghosts. Louise has opted for turkey sandwiches and fruit. They have no time for more. They bring the trays to the mess hall and then head to Stargate Operations to hand out dinner to those on duty. Louise is glad she has Teyla by her side, her friend's quiet presence soothing in times like these. They end up in John's office. He reclines in his chair and tries to smile at her. She hands him a sandwich that he sets on his desk, leaving it untouched.
"You need to eat, John," she chides him.
He winces. "I will. Later." He motions for them to sit. "I need to make decisions. That still makes too many suspects. And I'm no cop," he adds despondently. "Ronon is offering to help," he says, rolling his eyes at her, earning himself her first real smile of the day.
"How many?" she wants to know.
"We've narrowed them down to five."
She nods. "That's pretty good. Out of a City of three hundred plus people. Look, it's late and you won't probably get more out of them tonight. Lock them up and let them think it over. A few hours in the eerily silent brig might do more than any of Ronon's badass stunts."
He nods. "I think so too. I'll give the order and we'll head back to our quarters," he says. "Teyla, can you take the first watch with Ronon and Amelia? Lorne will take the second with Chuck. I'll take the third with Louise. I only want a few people allowed near the critical areas and brig." Teyla nods and leaves. "Wait for me. I'll be right back," he tells Louise.
He returns a moment later and offers her his hand. "Come on, sweetie, we need to rest."
She stands and Shep follows suit immediately, shadowing them. She smiles at John. "He's tired too," she says, making him snort.
"Yeah, sure. He spent all day sleeping either in your quarters or here," he sniggers.
"That was the tiring part, honey. He had to watch everyone scurrying along while he was not even allowed to budge," she banters. She falls silent as they approach the transporter. "Can we make a little detour to the infirmary?" she asks shyly. It's not something she's really looking forward to but it's definitely something she needs to do and the later she will, the more difficult it'll get.
He squeezes her hand. "You want to see him?" She nods. "Are you sure you don't want to remember him the way he was?"
She shakes her head resolutely. "It would be cowardly. I need to say goodbye, John."
He lets her enter the room alone, as she's asked. He sees her approach him and lift the white sheet. After a few minutes, she bends towards him and lays a gentle kiss on his forehead then puts the sheet back on and leaves the room quietly. He sees she's crying and bites his bottom lip. She smiles and rubs his arm. "That's me grieving, John. I know you're not comfortable with seeing me cry so I'm just going to go see Jen for a couple of minutes if that's OK with you. I won't be long," she tells him.
When she returns, she looks even more quiet and subdued. It scares him. He knows Sergeant Bailey was more than her under-cook. He was a friend too and a trusted one. He's never told her so because it would have made her uncomfortable but he's been told Bailey had defended her several times ever since they'd been back on board – fighting anyone who'd dare mention her private life. Lorne has told him there had even been a brawl once with a couple of scientists who'd been pretty nasty to her. He makes a mental note of inquiring into it though said scientists are not part of the suspects under lock tonight.
"You OK?" he asks her, pulling her into his arms.
"I'm not but I will be. Especially when I can look the son of bitch who did that in the eye," she replies. He feels her shudder and rubs her back. She's both grieving and very angry and he can connect to that. There's not much to be said. "Take me home, John," she whispers.
TBC