Conditioned Association8

Moira led the little boy away, after someone shoved her. She turned, expression full of sorrow. Resignation. "I'm sorry, John. I made a deal to save you. To raise the city." She moved towards the colonel. The little boy with her looking back at him, face pinched with puzzlement. "No!" John cried, but he was shoved to his knees. Held there. Held there by his own marines. He heard a man's voice say, "I'm sorry, John. There is no other way."

John woke, gasping. Sat up, heart pounding. Almost tasting the blood in his mouth. Almost feeling the fingers digging into his shoulders, keeping him down. Almost feeling the hard ground grinding into his knees. He looked around, not recognizing his room for a moment. Not feeling Moira next to him. He scrambled out of the bed, the blankets. Rushed to their room and stopped. Moira was sitting at the table, clad in a pale nightshirt. Bathed in the bluish glow of the laptop as she worked. Muttering softly, some endless chain of Latin words. "Moira?" he croaked.

Moira looked over, stared. "John? I'm sorry, did I wake you?" His form was a dark, tall, lean silhouette in the threshold between their two rooms. But the anguish on his handsome face was all too evident. "Oh no. The nightmare?"

He nodded. Reassuring himself he was awake. That she was real, was there. "Yes. The nightmare."

Moira closed the laptop, moved to him. She took his hand, led him to their bed. Guided him under the blankets, following after him. She sat close, touched his arm. "The future?"

"Yes."

"Exactly the same?"

"Yes. Well, no. More details." He frowned. Rubbed his eyes. He stretched out on his back. Flung his arm over his face. "What the fuck is happening to me, Moy?"

She ran her fingers through his hair. Scooting closer to press her thigh against him. The feel of her body next to his. Warm. Solid. "What were the details, John?"

He sighed. "You. You were leaving me. With John junior. But this time someone pushed you. Was forcing you to the colonel. And I...I was held back, held down by my own marines! And it wasn't Elizabeth. A man, some man said there was no other way. It was so real, Moira! I could feel their grasp on me. Feel the ground under me. Taste the blood in my mouth!"

Moira slid on top of him. Kissed his lips, moving his arm off his face. "John..." She kissed him again, caressing his temple gently. "So I was forced to go. You were forced to stay. What reason could there be for that?"

"None! None at all, Moy!" he stated angrily, meeting her gaze. He touched her arm, her swirling tresses as they fell around them.

"Think, John. Approach it logically," she urged. Kissing him. "What would cause it to happen?"

"Nothing, Moy. A...a threat to the city," he considered, as her mouth moved down his throat. "A dire threat. From the colonel? I can't see that. Maybe, maybe more ATA Wraith? It has to be something to do with the anomaly. Something..."

"A threat to the city, so dire they had no choice but to send me and John junior to the colonel to raise his city. Against your decisions. Which might mean they need that other Atlantis to help them against...something? Someone? As opposed to the previous scenario where the colonel is the instigator." She circled his ear. Nibbled.

He smiled at her attentions. The feel of her body on his. But considered her words carefully. "He's still the instigator, somehow. But you're right. It would have to be a threat to the city."

She kissed his lips slowly. Savoring. She sat, straddled his lap. Gyrating slightly against his naked body. She ran her hands down his chest. Nails scratching his flesh, his chest hair. "So...the real question is why you are having the same exact nightmare three nights running. Has this ever happened before?"

"No. Nothing ever like this," he admitted. Ran his hands up her sides. Her hips to yank up her nightshirt. She lifted, letting him pull the fabric out of the way. His fingers grazed against her skin, caressing naked flesh now. "Moira...I won't allow it to happen."

"John, is there something else bothering you?"

"Ah. You still think that this is a manifestation of some inner turmoil. To the right, please, ah there, baby..." He groaned softly as she shifted to accommodate him.

Moira rocked slowly on him. "Maybe. Is there? You can tell me anything, John. You know that. I love you. All of you."

"Especially what's beneath you right now?" he teased, shifting to position himself directly under her. The lack of any panties exciting. Arousing. He considered. "No. Apart from the crap we just endured. How I almost lost you and the baby to some fucking Wraith queen, no. Nothing besides that little trifle."

"John!" She frowned. "I am serious! And don't you dare blame yourself for that, for any of that! I'm fine. The baby is fine. The city is fine. Are you sure there's nothing else? Nothing at all?" She murmured softly, feeling him react to her motions. She ran her nails lightly down his chest, his waist. "John?"

"What? I'm thinking." He smiled. "I'm thinking how good it will be right now if we had sex, baby. If you ride me hard. Real hard."

"John..." she scolded. Leaned down to kiss him. "Focus."

"I am, baby, believe me. Very–"

She sat again. "Why won't you tell me? It's...it's the baby, isn't it? You are worried about the double gene. Well, so am I, but there's nothing either of us can do about that. We just don't know what it means, if it means anything, but it's not affecting his development or his health. The baby. Naturally you're apprehensive, worried, stressing over it."

"None of the above, baby. Well, sure, the double thing, but since he's okay it's not a concern at the moment. Are you?"

"Well, yes. I mean, of course. You must feel the same! You must! It's a big change for both of us, John!"

"Yes, a big, wonderful change, Moy. Honestly, nothing's bothering me. Enough to produce some nightmare three times running. Faster, please."

She rocked against him, felt his hardness under her. Her answering arousal alluring him as she squirmed. "I don't believe you, John. I don't...oh!"

He smiled at her expression. "Believe it, baby. I need to deploy in that sweet center, so take me." His hands slid up her thighs, parting them wider. Fingers brushing her mound as she squirmed, lifting. She leaned down to kiss him. His hands grabbed her rear, squeezed. "Fuck me, Moira. Ride me hard."

She lifted, straightening. Caught him and eased him inside of her. Moaned as she gyrated on him, up and down, circling at the same time to create waves of friction, of pleasure. "Oh John, John...as ordered, colonel!"

"Oh fuck that's good! Tighter now, tighter...ah...faster now," he enthused, catching her hips to guide her. Support her. He wished she was completely naked.

Moira whimpered softly. Moving faster, arching. Fingers tightening on his thighs. "Oh John! John, John...so fucking sweet!"

He grinned. Sat and caught her, thrusting deeply, harder now as she gasped, startled. "Fuck oh fuck, baby! That is fucking sweet. Don't you dare stop now!"

Moira grabbed his arms before she fell backwards. He pulled her onto him, against him. Kissing her repeatedly as she moved faster, faster. Murmurs trapped in her throat. Groans rising and falling as the climax shuddered. Riding them both now, quick, sharp. She cried out loudly and John groaned, swearing as the release came at last. The bed rocking under them, bouncing wildly with each gyration, each thrust. Moira fell backwards, legs splayed but John followed, still thrusting, deeply now, yanking up her nightshirt to tongue her breasts, to grunt against her skin. Her legs wrapped around him. Fingers digging into his arms, his back. His rear as he prolonged the intimacy until he couldn't hold it any longer.

John fell on her. Kissed her. Slid out of her and rolled. Sat and reclined on his back, catching his breath. Licked his lips. "Fuck," he muttered happily.

Moira lay on the bed, catching her breath. Sweaty. Messy. She closed her legs. Sat and pulled the nightshirt back over her. She scooted next to him but remained seated. "John...damn."

"I know," he agreed smugly. "Baby, I do love multiples. Over and over. And over...fuck. John junior?"

"Fine. Stop asking, would you?" She sighed. "Damn, John...your fucking ordnance...your...sweetie, are you making up these nightmares just so you can fuck me like that?"

He smiled. "No. Those nightmares are real enough, Moy. I fuck you like that to exorcize them. And to give us multiple pleasure."

She scrambled off the bed. Crossed to his room. Returned and threw his pajama pants at him. "Here! Put that thing away!"

He laughed, pulled them on as she got in next to him. She snuggled against him. His arm slid around her. He kissed her. "Ah baby. Hey, should we–"

"No! Shut up!" She traced circles on his chest. "John..."

"Oh oh," he muttered, recognizing her tone.

"Did you have this much sex with your lots some women?"

He frowned. "No."

"No? I mean...you...I mean..."

"I don't care what you mean, baby. No. I only have this much exuberant sex with Moira Sheppard. Go to sleep. Hey, what were you working on? In the middle of the night?"

"The classifications. I couldn't sleep and I haven't had time to work on them." She sighed. "John...will you, um, will you be leaving me soon? To go on missions, I mean?"

"No."

"I mean, not now, of course. But when Weir gets back. You'll be leading missions like you always do, I mean."

"No."

She stared but he had closed his eyes. Was settling comfortably, arms around her. "John?"

"Go to sleep, Moira. You should be getting plenty of rest."

"Between wild bouts of sex, you mean?" she teased.

He smiled. "Yeah. Between wild bouts of sex. Go to sleep."

"John, what did you mean? A week or two later after Weir returns? There's no need for you to stay here, John. The city is secure. I'm secure. The baby is secure. So don't feel you have to stay here. Don't neglect your job for me, John, otherwise the flak will hit, won't it? Like it did over our marriage. So in a week or two, yes, that's what you meant." She snuggled on him. Relaxing. "Plenty of time to figure this out. Your nightmares. My projects. I want to know your theory about those deserted planets, and yes, my theory on Wraith evolution, you had it right, John, but there is more. Much more if I can ever finish the research on it. John?"

"You lost me after sex, baby. Ssh."

She smiled. "Seriously, John. A week or two, right? At the most. That give us enough time to figure out–"

"No. You misunderstand me, Moira." He rolled them so they were on their sides, facing each other. He held her close, eyes still closed. "I'm not going through the 'Gate. I'm not leading my team, any team. In effect, I am not stepping foot away from Atlantis. I'm quitting."