Life, with a little spice 9
No need to say she doesn't ask for more that night but to be held tight. She waits for him to fall asleep to allow herself to cry quietly. No matter what John says, she feels responsible for what happened. Jen has told her Kyle probably never saw it coming and the stab he received killed him instantly. That's the plus side. What worries John is that the wound is clean, showing the killer never hesitated. Liver wound. No fuss, no muss. And no hesitation marks. The guy – or gal – has killed before. That's a given.
She closes her eyes and tries not to think about Kyle, only about the murderer. She thinks about the list she's been given of potential suspects. It doesn't add up. None of those people had any controversial past. A prep cook, a scientist from NUMA, a tech, a couple of pilots. Sure, those two flyboys have training but she knows them well and can't believe they could have anything to do with Kyle's death. All those people have been interrogated because their quarters are right next to Kyle's and they were alone at the time of death and thus had no alibi.
She tosses and turns. She should be sleeping instead of torturing herself. John has that uncanny ability to fall asleep whenever he can. Unfortunately, sleep often eludes her and when it does, there's nothing she can do but wait – and think. When she was single and had her own quarters, she'd get up and read or write or even head back to the kitchen but he told her once – you don't sneak out on a trained colonel.
She sighs and settles on her back and lays her hands on her stomach, trying to relax. She thinks about Sergeant Bailey and the first time they'd met. Fond memories of the time she'd spent training at the SGC. Connecting to people, though on a superficial level at the time. Now, it's so different. John has forced her to connect. Bent her to his will. I'm a patient man when I put my mind into it, he'd told her once. And patient he has been.
She turns on her side, her head propped on her hand and watches him sleep. It warms her heart he's there with her – in spite of every single time she's pushed him away, in spite of every single time she's gotten on his wrong side. She bends and kisses his temple – a feather-like kiss meant to comfort her. He's barely inches away and yet, she misses him.
He turns on his side, facing her and she freezes, hoping she's not woken him up. Lord knows he needs to sleep. He sneaks his arm around her waist and pulls her to him. "Love you," he mumbles in his sleep. She closes her eyes and sighs. She makes a silent prayer he'll always feel that way. Meeting his other self in their future has told her one thing. If he ever feels differently towards her, she knows she won't bear it. "Why don't you try and get some rest?" he mumbles. "I can hear you thinking there," he teases her.
She chuckles. She should have known it would wake him up. "Sorry," she whispers.
He sighs and props himself up against his pillow and pulls her in his arms, her head on his chest. "Is OK," he drawls lazily. "Want to talk about it?"
"Uh, uh," she replies and cuddles even closer.
"Are you trying to solve the case at two in the morning, sweetie?" he teases her, knowing it's probably what's keeping her awake.
"Might be. But it's not leading me anywhere," she mumbles. "I don't see why Kyle would be killed in the first place. And don't tell me again he was in the wrong place. How can it not be related to my abduction?"
"See," he points out. "You've finally come to the same conclusions!"
She sighs. "Yeah, but the why eludes me."
"He might have heard or seen something related to you. He's one of the few people who were told you had gone missing and not simply left on a mission."
"You told him?" she asks, surprised.
"I did. I thought it would be good for you to have someone who'd help you through it at work. I trusted him," he tells her, making her smile. She knows he's always had people keeping an eye on her. It used to aggravate her at first because she thought he treated her like a child. Now she knows it's just worry on his part.
"Look, can we at least try to sleep? I'm not getting any younger. I need my beauty sleep," he banters, making her chuckle.
"OK," she amends and settles in his arms, one of her legs between his. She smirks when she feels him harden against her thigh though neither of them is ready for that now. Too much sorrow on her part and too much worry on his. It's just good to know she makes him feels that way. She feels her limbs go numb and finally falls asleep. He watches her for some time, stroking her head gently, before he does too.
He wakes her up around five and they make their way back to the Control Room. Nothing has happened during the night. McKay is waiting for them. "Have you slept at all?" she asks him, seeing how perky he looks.
He shakes his head impatiently. "Been working on the video footage of the corridors with Chuck. The system's been definitely tempered with. Someone is trying his best not to get caught. Or someone else covering his tracks..." he huffs.
"We've received a transmission from the SGC, Sir," Lorne tells John. "General O'Neill said not to wake you up. He's approved of your measures and thinks you should send back to them whoever needs to be interrogated, should our interviews prove fruitless." Lorne pouts. "What do you say?"
John crosses his arms on his chest and breathes out. "I say whatever General O'Neill says is fine by me. It won't end our quarantine and certainly won't dispense us from scouring the City and conducting interviews of everyone but at least, we won't have to deal with those people." He scratches his stubble pensively. "Let's give it one more shot and if we don't get anything out of them, we'll do just that."
"I want to come with you," Louise asks.
He presses his lips together, thinking. "You sure about that? If one of them is Sergeant Bailey's murderer, you might not want to look him in the eye when he tells you the truth," he tells her.
She shakes her head. "I need to know and I also need to do something – anything. I feel so useless."
"OK, then. A fresh perspective wouldn't hurt, after all,'" he agrees. He bends towards her. "But you let me conduct the interviews, OK?" he whispers to her. She nods. "Louise?" he insists.
"Yes, John, I promise I won't disobey your orders this time," she tells him truthfully.
"I don't understand, people," he tells them, aggravated. "All of you say they haven't heard or seen anything. How can that be possible? A man gets murdered next to your quarters and you have nothing to say." They're all sitting at a table near the brig. They all look very tired, like they haven't slept all night. John slaps his hands on the table and growls. "All right, let's get started."
He nods to Lorne and Ronon who are waiting by the door. "You take the scientist and tech, I take the flyboys, Louise'll get the prep," he orders.
She smiles at him briefly. It's the first time he lets her do something like that, lest on her own. She motions for the prep to follow her, his file in hand, and takes him to a room down the corridor. She offers him a seat and opens the file in front of her. "Dave, do you know why you're here?" she asks.
He looks her straight in the eye, cool and collected. "Yes, Ma'am."
She's been told that not once has he asked about the deceased. "You've been told Sergeant Bailey was murdered. He lived two rooms down from yours. We need to have information, Dave," she tells him.
He shrugs. "Can't help you. Already told Major Lorne. Heard nothing," he replies offhandedly.
She presses her lips together. "What about in a more general way?"
"What about it?" he counters. There's something that's not adding up in his behavior. He looks detached, even bored.
"Well, do you know who he hanged out with, apart from you guys from the food service?" she asks at random. John has told her to try and check references, links between people. And not be too obvious at once.
He shrugs. "You're the head of the food service. You should know," he points out wickedly. "I didn't hang out with him at all."
She narrows her eyes at him. He's bordering on disrespect, though he's got a point. Kyle was Kyle. That's all. He was easy-going and had no problems making friends so she'd never paid attention. She had too much on her plate as it was. They would spend time together, professionally, but she relied a lot on him for when she would go off-world and that had become the biggest part of her workload recently. She berates herself for not checking on him, making sure he adapted to life on board.
She gives him a tense smile. "I'll be right back," she tells him curtly. She motions for one of the marines to keep an eye on him and goes to knock on John's own interrogation door. She peeks in. "Hey, sorry to bother you. Got a minute?" she apologizes.
He nods and walks outside. He folds his arms on his chest. "Got anything?" he asks hopefully.
"More like a bad vibe. That guy, Dave, I don't really know him. He was more on Kyle's shift than mine. He only worked with me a couple of times. His face looks eerily familiar and not from seeing him around here though that's about it except he does strike me as cold when he should be scared or at least worried."
He pouts. "OK, well, I'm not making any progress either. My own suspects are looking genuinely concerned. We're waiting for McKay's results on the City's systems. He said he could determine which doors opened and when, and link that to the logs from the sensor device. This way we know for certain who was inside, who opened their doors and who's lying about it," he tells her.
She huffs. "Three hundred plus people to check, John!" she exclaims. "It's gonna take too long."
"Woman of little faith," she hears McKay chide her from the other end of the corridor. He's exiting the transporter with a smug look and a tablet in hand. "I found everything you need to get this case to the next level," he declares. She quirks an eyebrow and waits, her arms folded on her chest. He looks from her to Sheppard and waves at them both disdainfully. "You two spend way too much time together. I said it a long time ago. You're rubbing off on each other, and not in a good way," he points out.
They look at each other's matching stance and roll their eyes in unison. "To the point, McKay," John says impatiently.
He huffs. "Alright. I was able to isolate those data you wanted," he tells John. "It confirmed what we already know. Only five people were around at the time of the crime but only one used the command to open his door from the inside," he says, showing them the person's picture file. Louise nods. "OK. Anything else?"
"Demanding much, are we?" Rodney sniggers.
"You have no idea," she retorts with a smirk.
He rolls his eyes and looks pointedly at John who warns him. "McKay, get your mind out of the gutter and spit it out!" Rodney smirks knowingly all the same and glances towards Louise who's flushed at the innuendo.
"Alright, happy taxpayers! So, what I have is that guy was outside his room, conveniently near Sergeant Bailey's quarters, while another guy was tampering with the cameras from his own room," he explains. He shows them another file. "As for the others, no computer activity or anything that would look suspicious. I'm still working on emails sent on the intranet and Zelenka has written a program to find anything suspicious on the video footage we do have."
John nods appreciatively. "You guys did an excellent job. Get back to me when you have anything else." McKay nods quietly and heads back to the transporter, his shoulders hunched. It's been a long night and even though he's just helped them make progress, there's much, much more to do.
She turns to John. "Where do we go from here?"
He pouts. "I say we wait until McKay has more. We need to nail them down once and for all. We've got those two and Wicker and Jameson. We need to know if there's more and what damage they've already done – apart from the obvious," he adds, seeing her eyes well-up with tears. He steps closer and rubs her arm. "Look, sweetie, you're too emotional to keep conducting this interview." She looks away and scoffs. "I'm not saying you're useless. I'm just saying you need to regroup first," he adds hurriedly. Letting her come down here was a mistake. She's been through too much already.
She shakes her head and looks him in the eye. "You're not trusting me," she accuses him.
He pouts. "You're not being fair," he counters. "I trust you. I do."
"So why have you changed your mind?" she snaps.
"Because," he drawls, trying to to keep his cool, "this is not the right time for you. You need to take it easy."
"Stop mothering me, John," she counters, glaring.
"How am I supposed not to do that?" he huffs. "I care about you, damn it!" He presses his lips together and regards her, arms crossed over this chest.
She sighs and approaches him. She lays a hand on his forearm. "I know," she whispers. "But it's not fair for you to always have to watch my back."
"I don't mind," he replies with a smile and pulls her in his arms. "I promise once you feel rested, I'll let you help."
She kisses his cheek and steps back. "Thank you. I think I'm gonna head back to the kitchen. Without Kyle around, I think I might have to work double shifts anyway."
He nods. "I'll walk you back there," he says.
She shakes her head. "Nope, you're not. You've got enough on your plate and I know how to take care of myself," she tells him, lifting an eyebrow, daring him to counter her.
He ponders it and nods for her to go. "Just be careful," he tells her.
"I'm always careful," she says over her shoulder as she leaves hurriedly.
He shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles. She'll be the death of him but he cannot imagine a life where she wouldn't be around anymore.
She walks to the mess hall but stops at the Control Room first. Amelia is manning the consoles with Shep by her side. He lifts an eyelid when he sees her approach them but doesn't make a move to come and see her. She chuckles at his look of pure boredom. She strokes him a couple of times and smiles at Amelia. "Hey, thanks for taking care of him," she tells the other woman. "Anything I should be aware of?"
Amelia shakes her head. "No problem, Ma'am, and no. Same old, same old. General O'Neill called again. They have surveillance on Colonel Sheppard's ex-wife and her husband. 24/7, he said. He doubts though anything will happen now. The fact you came back probably disrupted whatever they had put in motion."
"I agree and it kind of worries me. I came back to change things and I did but now, we're in the dark again. I'm heading to the kitchen," she adds. "Can you keep Shep here?" she asks.
Amelia nods with a smile. "No problem. I'll take him for a walk later, when Ronon gets back from the interrogation room. Will keep you posted if anything comes up. Oh, and Ma'am?" Louise looks back at her. "General O'Neill said if you need help, just to let him know. Major Lawrence is ready to gate to Atlantis if you need him."
Louise grins. "Now, that's real good news. I could use some help. I'll talk to Colonel Sheppard about it."
When she arrives in the kitchen, everyone stands at attention. It seems they've been here a while. She looks around and sees nothing has been done yet. They're not used to working on their own. She sighs and berates herself for thinking she could manage with only one under-cook. "OK, people," she claps her hands. "We're gonna prepare something fast and simple. The days to come are not gonna be easy so bear with me. Oh, and, by the way, who knows Dave Grady personally?" she asks offhandedly.
They all shake their heads. "Actually, Ma'am," Private Sanders replies, "none of us really do. He came in at the last minute to replace another guy who hadn't showed up. He didn't train with us. So we kind of, well..." His voice trails off in embarrassment.
She chuckles. "You kind of shunned him?" she offers, making him blush.
He pouts. "Not really, Ma'am. It's just he would not hang out with us anyway and spent most of his free time with those two scientists..."
She lifts her head and looks him in the eye. "What scientists?" she demands.
He blushes and remains quiet.
"Look, Ma'am," the other Private next to him says, "we kind of didn't like those guys. They were not very respectful and Dave, he kind of bonded a little too much."
"Disrespectful? How so?" she prods.
They all look at each other, fidgeting. "Sergeant Bailey – he had a brawl with those two one day. Said he didn't want to hear them talk like that. Said he would report them if that happened again," Sanders says.
She growls. "Stop beating about the bush, damn it! This could be important. What was the object of their quarrel?" she demands.
They look down and shuffle their feet. "You, Ma'am."
"What? Me? Why?" she asks, frustrated. What has that got to do with Kyle's death or the presence of spies on board?
"Said you had privileges on board because you were Colonel Sheppard's girlfriend." He pouts and looks away.
"They said that, uh?" she snaps, temper flaring.
"More like he was shagging you..." one of the younger preps adds, turning beet red.
She does flush too, but with anger. "And was Dave there?"
They nod. "He didn't say anything. He just sniggered. I mean, that's what I was told, 'cause I wasn't there," Sanders replies hurriedly. "But you can ask Major Lorne. He knows about it."
She looks bemused. "He knows?" she repeats, befuddled. He knows and he didn't tell me? She reflects, her temper flaring. And of course, nothing that Evan knows is kept from John! She suddenly feels murderous. How could they keep that from her?
She gives them all a tense smile. "OK," she drawls. "Thanks for the intel. Now, to make things straight for you people, yes, Colonel Sheppard is shagging me," she says, making air quotes, "but if anyone has a problem with that, I think they'll have to talk to the IOA about it, 'cause as I recall, they were the one who allowed us to come back here – as a couple." She looks around, letting the underlying meaning sink in.
They all look down and shuffle their feet. "Yes, Ma'am," a few of them mutter.
"Now this is settled, let's set to work." She dons her apron and rolls up her sleeves. "Menu is on the board with the list of ingredients. Get to your workstations."
She goes round and makes sure everyone has what they need but her mind is several levels below, in the brig. John has not returned or called, meaning they're still at it. This can't be good. She sighs. She's so tired of all this. Wraith attack on the City, she can take. But that – that is sneaky and disturbing. She feels a shudder creep up her back. And those people trying to discredit John's ability to run the City? It seems she's back where she started – three years in the future. That's what they were attempting at that time. That's what they all succeeded in doing. Only now, it's happening much faster.
She shakes her head, trying to get rid of the feeling but the word sneaky comes back to haunt her. Like Wicker, she reflects. She sniggers inwardly. Wicker – wicked, more likely. What a fitting name! And that Dave what's his name? Sneaky little weasel as well. And why is his face coming back to her? She snaps her fingers impatiently – McKay style – and taps her headset, eyes widening. "Colonel Sheppard, come in, please."
"This is Sheppard. Yes?"
"I know where I saw that guy." She hears him breathe out. Finally, they're making progress! "Three years from now. Sneaky little weasel, indeed," she adds to herself. "He was the new cook. Gushed about my cooking and all that! I'm going to wring his neck!" she growls. "I'll be right down," she adds through clenched teeth.
"Louise, you stay where you are," he orders her.
"The hell I am!" she barks back. "He's about to discover what it means to get on my wrong side!" She ends the conversation and looks up. Everyone has obviously heard that last part. They're looking at her apprehensively. "What?" she barks, royally pissed. "You were not seriously thinking I was going to forgive and forget? No one jeopardizes this City and lives to brag about it." She looks murderous now. She points at the oldest prep cook. "You, there. You manage the kitchen while I get down to the brig. Lists are on the board. Howler if you need me. I won't be long," she sneers. She removes her apron and checks her sidearm before heading for the door.
"She's not serious, right?" Sanders's friend asks him.
Sanders shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine. I only know her by reputation. And that was definitely not what I was expecting..."
By the time she gets down to the brig, she's fuming. The guy had the nerve to make her think he admired her. And John? He knew people were talking behind their backs, spreading nasty rumors, and he hadn't done anything about it? She sees him waiting for her down the corridor, his arms crossed defensively on his chest. She points at him accusingly. "You're next in line, buster," she snaps at him. "But first, you give me five minutes with that guy," she orders him.
"Ah, nah, I don't think so. You sound too much like Ronon right now," he banters. "And why should I be next in line, by the way?"
She rolls her eyes. "For keeping things from me, maybe," she replies, narrowing her eyes at him.
"What things?" he asks innocently.
She swats his forearm nastily. "Stop that now, John Sheppard, before things get really ugly, OK? When were you going to tell me people are spreading rumors about us?" she accuses him.
He bites his bottom lip and looks away. "So?" she insists.
He looks at her and pouts. "I just found out. I'm not the only one protecting you, OK! Kyle was. Lorne too. And it's not as if rumors are spreading! It's just a couple of scientists who should have kept their big, arrogant mouths shut."
"Two scientists who happened to hang out with our suspect! Now, I want their names and I want them down here asap," she demands.
"Hey, lady, I'm still the boss here, OK?" he replies indignantly. "And we already have them in custody." He sees the corner of her lips lift slightly. "Yes, hon', I'm not as incompetent as you think."
She pouts. "Never said that."
"Good, 'cause otherwise I'd have to put you in the brig for disrespect!" he teases her.
She rolls her eyes. "OK then. You take the two d bags. I take Dave."
He shakes his head. "Told ya already. Can't let you do that."
She huffs. "John, I'm royally pissed right now but I'm not stupid. I just need him to think I am. He's sneaky? I can be that too!" she replies cockily.
He eyes her and ponders it. "OK," he finally says, "but don't do anything I wouldn't."
She snorts. "Sure thing. Had a good teacher."
"Hello again, Dave," she smirks, entering the interrogation room. He trains a cold glare on her. She grins and takes her P14 from her holster and makes a show of checking it then sits in front of him and lays the gun on the table, keeping her hand on it. His eyes widen. "Tell you what, Dave," she drawls. "I do know about second chances so I always try to give people one – even rattlesnakes like you. Thing is, I already have," she adds ominously.
"Where's Colonel Sheppard?" he demands hurriedly, his eyes darting to the door.
She smirks. "You mean the man who's shagging me?" she asks wickedly. She sees him flush. "He's got other fish to fry, actually. Bigger ones," she adds.
"What do you mean?" He looks worried now.
She presses her lips together. "You see, Dave, we've discovered you're just a petty little accessory in a much grander scheme. Colonel Sheppard is interrogating your two very impolite friends as we speak. You were just here to replace me – no more. He's not interested in you. Them, in return..." she adds. "They'll get a one-way ticket to the SGC and will be allowed to live a little longer. You are staying right here, with me," she informs him and grabs her sidearm. She trains it on his head.
"What are you gonna do to me?" he stammers.
She shrugs. "Don't know yet. My boyfriend said you were all mine. You know, accidents happen..."
He breathes out. "What do you want?"
"I want the list of all the other rattlesnakes on board," she says coolly. "And I want to know how you got here in the first place."
He looks away and grits his teeth. "Don't wait too long. If your friends beat you to it, the deal is off and I'll be most happy to kill you." He looks her in the eye, glaring. "Did I tell you about the time I killed a Wraith?" she asks him coolly.
He pouts. "I read about it," he says through clenched teeth.
"Oh," she adds, smirking, "and I'm sure you were not informed yet but actually, I killed Jameson too..."
He blanches. "Jameson is dead?"
She smirks. "Funny how many people you know on board that are somehow connected to our case, uh? Not bad for a guy who kept to himself and never hung out with the rest of the preps." She lets it hang in there and waits.
"Got a pen and paper?" he asks her disdainfully. She hears the door open quietly. On of the marines on guard outside her door deposits said objects on the table and nods at her before leaving. John is monitoring the conversation. Probably has from the beginning. She smirks and nods at Dave to start writing. "I want to make sure I'll get immunity," he demands smugly.
She snorts. "You'll get no such thing," she replies. "But I can make sure you get to Area 51 in one piece. Does that sound reasonable to you?" She raises her eyebrows expectantly. He sighs and starts writing.
TBC