Conditioned Association9

Moira stared. Startled. She moved free of his arms to sit. To stare at her husband as he reclined next to her in the bed. Eyes closed. Relaxing. She frowned. "I know you didn't mean that. I don't understand. You would never quit! John? John!" She nudged his shoulder.

"You heard. Go to sleep," he said, drifting tiredly.

"John!" She smacked his arm.

"Ow!" His eyes flew open. "What the...Moira! We need to sleep...unless you want to do it against the wall now?"

"Shut up! What the hell do you mean? You quit?"

He smiled. "Like you don't know. Well, let me refresh your memory, baby. I hold you up against a wall and take that pert little ass so fucking hard you will–"

"Not that!" She hit him again.

"Ow! Stop that!"

"Then answer me! Seriously! You have to go through the 'Gate, John! You have to lead your team! It's your job! You can't quit your job!"

"Lower your voice!" He sighed, closing his eyes again. "Go to sleep, baby. Decision's made. You're right. I'm not quitting my job. Just going through the 'Gate. No more." She raised her hand to hit him again but his eyes flew open. He caught her wrist. "Ah, no. Now come here and go to sleep, damn it! Decision's made!"

She sighed. Relenting. Knew if she pushed him he would only become more intransigent, intractable. She reclined, snuggling against him. Stroked his chest. "John...you don't have to do this. Not for me. I'm fine. I'm perfectly safe here, sweetie. You eliminated the threat."

"Are you? Perfectly safe? No. Not unless I am here, Moy. I can see that now."

"See what? John?" She scowled. He had closed his eyes again. Arm around her. "John?"

"You heard. Only me, Moy. I'm the only one. Now go to sleep."

"John...no. It was no one's fault. No one's. You can't blame yourself, or anyone else. Not Rodney. Not Ronon. Not Carson. Not Evan. No one. Not yourself. I am safe here, colonel. Your child is safe. Besides, no doubt you will have one of your men keep an eye on me while you are gone, won't you? One of your marines?"

"No. Don't trust them. Me. Only me, Moy." He pulled her closer, shifting. "Sleep."

She sighed, kissed his lips. "John, please. You don't have to do this. Please. I love you, John. There's no need for you to overreact like this. Honestly, you don't have to–"

"Overreact?" he snapped. Met her gaze angrily. "I almost lost you, Moy! You almost lost the baby! How am I overreacting to that? Well?"

She touched his lips as his anger washed over her. "By neglecting your job, colonel, that's how. You can't–"

"Enough!" He freed her. Rolled onto his other side, away from her. "I can. I have. I will. It's done. Now go to sleep, damn it! No more talking!"

She frowned. "We haven't even started, colonel!" She rolled away from him. Stared at the darkness, fuming. Worrying. Pondering how to change his mind.

Rodney looked round the Wraith lab, uncomfortable. He stared at the locked door. At the covered tools. Drawers that once held specimens now empty. Monitors flickering with reams of data. He finally met Moira's gaze. "And why are we meeting in here of all places?"

Moira sighed. "Because it is private. Well..." She glanced at the camera in the corner. "Relatively private. I need your help, Rodney. On this."

"So you said, but I don't see how I can help. If John won't listen to you why do you think he will listen to me?"

"Because you are his best friend."

Rodney smiled. "Really? I mean, of course I am, but I still don't see how that–"

"He won't listen to me because he's doing this because of me. For me." She touched his arm. "We both know if John follows through on this it will be the biggest mistake of his life. He wasn't made for a desk job. He needs to be out there, leading his team. Taking charge of this city, his teams. Exploring through the Stargate. Not babysitting me day in and day out. And you are the one to convince him, Rodney."

"Okay...but me? I mean, Carson is better at this kind of–"

"No. Carson would be too nice. You won't be. You will be brutally honest and sarcastic, which is just what John needs to hear. He doesn't need to be coddled. Rodney, we have to get him to reverse his decision now before Weir returns or–"

"All hell will break loose, yeah, I can see that, Moira." Rodney sighed. Considered. "Okay. I will do what I can. But I still think if he won't listen to you he won't–" Rodney paused as the door chimed. Moira turned as the door opened. John stood there. Eying them. Frowning.

"And what the hell is this?" he asked mildly. Gaze narrowing.

"You caught us, John. Rodney and I are having a torrid affair," she quipped, moving past him to the outer lab. "I need to get some work done. Excuse me."

Rodney stepped out, shrugged at his friend's ire. "Likewise. Although, to be honest she's not really my type."

"Ha ha." John watched him leave, turned as Moira was taking a seat at a computer. The screen flared to life. "So? What was that about? Moira?"

"I told you, sweetie. Now run along like a good boy so I can get some work done, all right?"

He scowled. Moved to her. Touched her shoulders. Fingers kneading the violet fabric of her t-shirt. "Hilarious, Moira. I'm not changing my mind."

She glanced at him. Saw his recalcitrant pose. Scowl. But clad in his BDUS, black t-shirt and gray pants. Double holster straps encircling his thigh. "Whatever, sweetie. I have work here. All kinds of sciency stuff. I'll meet you for lunch at eleven. Okay, John?"

He was silent. She turned back to her work, trying to ignore him. Bringing up scrolling data. Opening another window to make comparisons. Trying to ignore the feel of his gentle caresses on her shoulders. Finally he leaned close. Kissed her cheek. "Eleven," he said into her ear. Spun on his heels and was gone. Boots noisy on the floor. Moira sighed, shaking her head.

The slamming of a clipboard on the table made John start. He looked up from his data pad, stared at Rodney. "Yes?"he asked.

"Found it! Or rather, another like it. So grab your gear and let's go!" Rodney headed for the door.

"Whoa! Found what? Rodney!" John called, but the scientist was gone. Swearing John grabbed the clipboard. Saw a mess of schematics, numbers, figures all coalescing into a dizzy miasma. He dropped the clipboard onto the table. Left the conference room and headed for the control room. Found Rodney haranguing a technician, bringing up a screen of 'Gate addresses. "Rodney! Found what?" he repeated harshly. Tone so gruff a technician yelped, dropping a set of tools. A nearby marine half raised his gun in alarm. Lowered it with a sheepish shrug.

Rodney glanced at him. "The next piece in the puzzle. The alien tech! I think I've found the source! So get your gear and Conan and let's go!" He turned back to the screen. "Isolate the identical third chevrons in each one and I can collate the–"

"Rodney! Found what? And don't make me ask again!" John snarled.

Rodney turned to him. "Haven't you been listening? The alien tech! I think I've found the source! From your own extrapolations of those deserted planets, taken from Moira's own work on the reverse migratory patterns. This alien tech...is from our galaxy, and now I can prove it. Moreover there might be more on this planet. So we need to gear up and go now. From these readings the planet is quite desolate but with barely breathable atmosphere, so we'll need our vac suits...possibly. Things could have changed over thirty years in the planet's ecosystem. I can–"

"Slow down, damn it! From our galaxy?" John asked, trying to reign in his anger at the scientist's rush of words, enthusiasm. Insistence.

"Yes! Haven't you been listening to me?" Rodney declared. "Blue crystalline. From P3X-562."

"Blue what?" John asked.

"Haven't you read any of the old SGC mission reports? Geez! Blue crystalline life forms! Able to mimic our forms, access our memories, but more importantly are composed of electrical impulses, emit a low EM energy field! Beings entirely composed of energy! Well, not entirely as they can take a natural crystalline form, and here, well, perhaps a variant of their race, their species, whatever! Probably at one point had actual physical forms, hence the actual physical tech they left behind them! Migrated or were taken here or seeded or whatever that's not important! What is, what is important that this tech, this stuff, these aliens may still be out here! The Wraith–"

"Stop! You think those aliens could be out here? The same ones? I think I recall that mission report," John noted, trying to remember. " So far we haven't encountered any weird blue crystal people in our travels."

"Not yet! And they're not people. Not exactly. Maybe once they were, who knows? And out here they could be different! Have evolved differently, in clusters. They could be yellow for all we know! Living in trees! The point is the Wraith would have no use for them but ah, the Ancients would! I surmise there was a fallout, a war between the two and that's why their cities are now ruined! But we need to go to..." He glanced at the screen, "PR2M79 to find out for certain and to recover more of this tech which I can successfully interface with ours! What?"

John broke from his stare. "Fine. Take Lorne. You have a go. I–"

"What? What? We don't need Lorne! Oh! As replacement for Teyla, got it. Get your–"

"No. I'm not going. You have a go, Rodney. I'll get you Ronon and Lorne and you can–"

"Excuse me? As flattered as I am that you finally acquiesce to me becoming the team leader you need to come along as well. You are part of this team, Sheppard. So get your gear and we–"

"No. I am needed here."

"To do what? Babysitting Moira? Shouldn't you wait until she actually has the baby first?"

"Just go on your damn...oh. Ah. That's what you were doing in there. Moira," he realized, frowning.

"Yes, John. Don't be an ass! Lead your team, would you? It's your job, isn't it?"

"My job, McKay, is to protect this city and its inhabitants. One of whom happens to be my pregnant wife. Remember what happened the last time I was away from her?"

"Yes. I do. And that is why you need to be out there," Rodney gestured towards the Stargate, "not here twiddling your thumbs!"

John's gaze narrowed. The silence in the control room was absolute. "Don't." One word, softly spoken. The dangerous edge cutting like a knife across the air.

"Don't what?" Rodney challenged, fearless. Impassioned. "Are you a coward, is that it, John? Afraid to go through the Stargate? Afraid to trust to your own protocols, your own men, your own city? Afraid to trust to the intelligence of your own wife? Ah, is that it? Are you so tied to her apron strings now that you can't take a step away from her to do your own job now? Can't be a man, Sheppard? To tied to mommy's apron strings?"

The punch came out nowhere. Landed hard on Rodney's left eye, cheek. He spun, spluttered, fell heavily to the console. Lights flared and a screen rose from the desk. Rodney fell to the floor, yelping in pain. Surprise.

John stared, almost as surprised as his friend. He glanced at his fist, not knowing how his hand had formed one. He unclenched his fingers. Looked back at Rodney who was scrambling to his knees, hand at his eye. Mouth moving but no words were coming. "Um...Rodney...I..."

"Jesus, John! What the hell? I just wanted you to do your job, to lead your team on a viable mission, not hit me! You hit my eye! I could lose the sight in this eye!" he moaned, voice rising in tone as he staggered to his feet. "What the hell? Moira was right! You are an Alpha jerk sometimes! Jesus! I may have permanent visual damage! I may have to get an artificial–"

"Oh for God's sake, Rodney, you'll be fine!" John snapped to his friend's whining. "Sorry. Um, get your gear. We head out in ten. Have Beckett take a look at it. You'll be fine." He turned as Rodney kept muttering, heading for the infirmary. "Get back to work! Sargent, have that address ready to go!" he ordered.