Inhibition6

John scowled. Staring at his wife. Pissed by her disbelief, her merriment. He folded his arms across his chest. An immovable, implacable stance. As he sat on the bed facing her. "Oh really?" he challenged. "Then, please, doctor, explain it to me. Maybe my pretty head can't comprehend it."

"Apparently not!" She sighed, considered. Began to pace around the room. "You want the truth? He was right. I'm not...I'm not Moira O'Meara anymore." She paused. A trace of sadness in her voice, in her stance at this loss. A loss of her former self. A younger, more naive self.

"No," John agreed. "You are Moira Sheppard now. An unavailable married, pregnant woman."

"No, no, he didn't mean it like that!" she retorted. Resumed pacing. "I'm not...I'm not Moira O'Meara anymore,"she repeated, finding it difficult to explain. "I'm not the same anymore! Don't you see? Evan was right. I'm not Moira O'Meara anymore. I mean I am but I'm not."

"Oh. Well, that clarifies things perfectly," he quipped. Voice sour.

She glared at him. "Will you shut up and listen?"

"I'm telling you, Moira, he's in love with you and want to–"

"No! Of course not! It's our friendship. Our friendship has changed. Everything has changed! Irrevocably changed. Me. Even you, John. There's nothing we can do about it. It's irreversible," she continued. "I mean I'm still a scientist. A paleozoologist. But I'm so much more now. I have you, John. You. Do you have any idea what that means?"

He paused. It sounded like an accusation, but he wasn't sure. "Um...no. That's a good thing, right? Having me?"

"Yes, of course it's a good thing!" she flared, sounding angry. "It's a wonderful thing! But it's utterly changed me! You! You!"

"Me, I got that," he quipped, but she ignored him.

"You're my confidante now. I talk to you now, well, mostly, about everything. Anything. And most of the time you even listen to me. So that's a big, big change, as is the fact that I'm no longer solely focused on my job, the science but I'm focused on you. You! You, John! I think about you all of the damn time! I still can't quite believe you are mine, solely mine. That we can be together, well, whenever your schedule allows it, of course. And not just for the sex. I mean just to be together, John, to spend time with you because you, you love me. John, you love me!"

She paused, glancing at him as if startled.

He smiled. "Yes, Moy, I do. Love you."

"Don't you see? Oh John, no one has ever loved me like you love me and that's why I'm so damned distracted from my work and my science! You! And now, now I'm pregnant! Pregnant, John, because of you and your damn sperm! It changes everything!"

"Moira," John tried to interrupt, moving to his feet. Her words were coming faster and faster. Her pacing becoming more frenetic as she became agitated.

"Everything, John! And I can hardly talk about all of that to Evan, can I? No, only to you, John, about this, about the baby and all of the changes. But I'm still a scientist, John! I can't change that and I won't change that! You married a scientist, John, so just deal with it, okay? I can't change the fact that I married the military commander of Atlantis and am so in love with him it's altered my personality and my perceptions and I am carrying his child now! This all means the loss of intimacy with Evan. Not physical, of course, there was never any physical intimacy but emotional or, or conversational–"

"Moira!" he said sharply, as she was working herself into a state.

"–intimacy and that has altered his perception of me as well! To the extent that he sees me now not as a scientist but as a, a woman. A woman, John! Because we're having too much glorious, exuberant sex and all the time now and we have to be more discreet because the–"

"Moira!" John caught her, pulled her into his arms. Kissed her. A deep, probing kiss that took her breath away. Dissolved her words. Her panic. Her sorrow. He pulled back. "Better, baby?"

"I–"

"Don't. Please, don't." He kissed her again. Mouth slowly moving over hers. Tongue gliding to tease. "Moira, you need to relax. I'll handle this."

"John...John...you...you..." Her hands slid up his chest. "You do understand, don't you?"

He kissed her again. Stroking her back. "Shut up, Moy, please!" he said fondly, causing her to smile. "Or I will keep my tongue in that mouth of yours."

"Hmm..promise, sweetie?" She kissed him. "John...oh John..."

"Ssh." He ran his mouth down her throat when a knock sounded. "Shit." He freed her, moved to the door. Opened it. "Carson." He stepped aside to let the doctor into the room.

"Moira, love, how are you feeling?" Carson greeted, gaze taking in her flustered appearance.

"Fine," she said softly, tearing her gaze from her husband. The imprint of his lips on hers haunting. Tantalizing.

"Findings?" John asked.

"Nothing so far. There's nothing in the blood work but I am taking everyone's and running every test I can. I'm here to draw your blood. Both of you need to stay here under quarantine. Everyone affected is under quarantine until further notice. Sit, please." Carson quickly collected the samples. Produced a syringe from his kit.

"What's that?" John asked, suspicious.

"A mild sedative. I've given it to all of the men. Now it's your turn, John. It will help you relax. It might make you drowsy, even. Two other fights broke out but neither were serious."

"What? Two other fights? Why the hell wasn't I informed?" John snapped.

"Because you are under quarantine as well, John. And as I said neither one was as serious or as violent as the one Moira provoked."

"I didn't provoke it!" she protested.

"Ow!" John protested as the needle pierced his arm. "Are you giving this to Moira?"

"No. You know that I can't," Carson stated. "Moira, just relax. You weren't as exposed as the men were."

"I was safe in the Jumper," she agreed. "John kept me safe."

"Yes, I'm certain he did, love." Carson closed his kit. "I'll be back in an hour to confer with you over the results, and to see how you are doing."

Moira followed Carson to the door. "None of this will affect the baby, will it?" she asked, hand on the baby bump under her sweater.

"No. You're fine so he's fine. He's even more protected than you are, Moira. Relax, love. Don't upset yourself. Has John exhibited any symptoms of overt aggression?"

"No, not towards me," she assured, seeing the doctor's concern. "He...um...it's a different manifestation towards me..." She blushed. Gaze dropping to the floor.

"Oh," Carson said, realizing. "Well, try to relax, love. We'll get this sorted soon."

Moira gasped as John was suddenly behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. "I know exactly how to make her relax, Carson. Exactly." He smiled. "Carson, let me ask you this. As a medical professional do you think that Moira and I are having too much sex?"

"John!" she scolded, mortified. She moved in his arms but he held her close.

"Because everybody else does,"he continued, ignoring her protests but enjoying the way she was squirming against him. Her rounder rear rubbing his crotch over and over. "I mean, I wasn't aware there was some Atlantis sexual schedule we have to follow but apparently there is because Moira and I are fucking way too often, too exuberantly for the citizens of this city to feel comfortable. So tell me–"

"John! Shut up!" she snapped, trying to move but only feeling his arousal pressing. Hardening along her rear. His voice was low, a trace of husky desire making her lower body tighten, flood in response.

"No, we need to know if our repeated fucking is causing a disturbance, don't we?" he asked, his tone conveying it was the most ordinary question in the world he could be asking. "So? Are we?"

"Well, colonel," Carson decided to humor him, "in my medical opinion that is entirely up to Moira, your wife." He kept his gaze on John, not looking at Moira to spare her further embarrassment.

John considered a moment. "Huh. Well, yes, obviously, and believe me, she wants to do it as much as I do. As often as I do. As energetically as I do and as–"

"John!" She elbowed him, blushing scarlet.

"I'll be back in an hour, Moira," Carson said, as if nothing embarrassing had occurred. "John, look after your wife."

"Of course I'll look after my wife, doc! I always look after my wife!" he called as Moira shut the door. "Every fucking inch of her!"

"John!" She shoved, turned to him. "Damn it, colonel, stand down! I know the wave is affecting your brain chemistry but there was no excuse for that Alpha male behavior and you–"

"No." He pushed her gently against the door. Kissed her. "This is all me, baby. And according to the doctor we are not having too much sex. So stop asking me." He kissed her again, pressing his body to hers. Shoving his growing erection onto her crotch. "Hmm...baby, didn't I promise you sweet and slow? We have an hour. That's more than enough time for sweet and slow, Moira. Plus a little kinky...just a little, Moy. My Moira. Door."

"What?" she asked, even as he was opening the sweater. Hands sliding down to her hips to undo her pants. Unzip.

"Door. First. Then sweet and slow in the bed." He smiled wickedly. "I want someone to pass by and hear you come."

"John Sheppard! You can't–"

"Oh baby, I can, believe me, I can," he assured, yanking down her pants, her panties as she squirmed. He freed her to quicky undo his pants, unzip. Free himself. He sprang out of his clothing, eager and hungry for her.

"John?" she asked, eyes widening at how swiftly he was ready. How big he was already.

He laughed. Kissed her, hands running up her thighs to part. "Oh yeah, baby. Deployment here, then the bed. Get me off, then I promise to get you off. Repeatedly, baby."