Stargate Atlantis: Fool's Gold5
Carson frowned as he sat back, drinking a cup of tea. He touched the console and it flared to life. Without having to type a command the data he sought appeared when all that he did was touch a key. It was as startling the sixth time as it had been the first time. He set down his cup of tea, staring for a moment at his reflection dimly rendered in the monitor.
It was odd being a clone.
It wasn't that he was ever treated like one, like a carbon copy of Carson Beckett that was not quite the same as the original. Everyone seemed to have accepted him as Carson Beckett and treated him as Carson Beckett. He even felt like Carson Beckett. Still, knowing that he was in fact a clone had altered the way he thought about himself, at times. It had altered how he considered his burgeoning relationship with Alison Porter.
He decided that treading cautiously was wise.
Unless it was his suddenly stronger connection to Atlantis that was affecting him. Carson turned from the monitor, from the man on the screen and eyed the infirmary. His infirmary. He couldn't quite put it into words, this new connection he felt. Somehow he was more responsive to the city and the city was more responsive to him.
The city didn't seem to care that he was a clone.
Carson turned back to the screen. The data awaited him, patient, not caring if he was a clone either. He smiled, feeling foolish. He wanted to talk to John about the city but John was gruff to the point of being rude and uncommunicative. Carson realized that for John the connection must be even stronger and perhaps more unsettling. Perhaps a few beers would loosen the other man's tongue and his guard would be let down.
"Doctor Beckett? Carson?"
At the female voice he turned, smiled. A pretty marine was standing, uncertain, holding up one arm that was bound in a sling. "Sorry, love, I was miles away. Let's have a look at that sprained wrist now, shall we?"
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John was talking, albeit he was giving orders to an assembly of team leaders and not revealing anything personal. He stood in the armory. All faces were grave, focused on his words as they listened to his orders. An array of weaponry was behind him as if to emphasis his points.
Ann Teldy listened attentively but she couldn't help but study the military commander. He was so serious, solemn, hands gesturing at times, feet shifting as if he couldn't keep still. She rued the fact that this man, easily the most handsome man on base just happened to be her boss and her military superior. Her thoughts were far from military, however, as her gaze perused his form clad in black. His dark brown hair and his expressive green eyes, the sexy straps of his thigh holster, the military boots, the stern demeanor and his low voice all combined to make her smile, but she schooled her expression.
It was against regulations to harbor such thoughts about her commanding officer.
"And TAC vests at all times," John finished, nodding for emphasis. "No exceptions. And no civilians will be using the 'Gate until further notice."
"Sir?" Ann piped up suddenly. "What if a scientist is needed on a mission?"
John returned her gaze, assessing the competent major in front of him. He silently assessed the pretty blond woman who was addressing him. "It depends upon the mission. Exceptions can be made if absolutely necessary, but for routine missions there are to be no civilians. Understood?" His gaze encompassed everyone. A chorus of assents filled the air. "Fine. Dismissed." He waited a moment as the men and women turned to go. "Teldy."
Ann froze at his summons. She returned to him. "Sir?"
He smiled at her gravity. Her pretty face was composed and calm. Her attractive blond hair was bound into a bun behind her head. Her blue eyes were serious but challenging. "Does this concern Doctor Porter?" he guessed. He recalled that her team was composed entirely of women. John had no problem with that, as long as they were all marines, which they weren't.
"Yes sir. It concerns any scientist, to be honest, but yes, specifically Doctor Porter. She is a valuable member of my team, like your Doctor McKay."
"No. No one is like McKay. Thank God." They shared a smile. "I understand, major, but my orders stand, for now. We aren't the most popular kid on the block anymore so we have to be cautious and I don't want any civilians in harm's way." The memory of Keller's fate surfaced but he shoved it back to the shadows to be buried with the others.
"Yes sir. Doctor Porter has had firearms training and self-defense courses," she informed him, "and as you may recall she was quite competent on that mission when we encountered Michael's hybrid experiments."
"Yes, she was, but things are different now and my decision is that all civilians are to be restricted to base."
"Excuse me, sir, but does that also include your own team?" she boldly asked.
"No, for obvious reasons which, quite frankly, I do not have to explain to you," he stated, his voice containing a little iron.
"Teyla and Ronon were the ones who instructed Doctor Porter, sir," Ann added, as if that could change his mind.
John had to smile at her persistence, arguing for her friend and team member. "Good to know, but that doesn't change my orders. Unless she is specifically needed for a specific reason for a specific mission she is restricted to base."
"That's a lot of specifics, sir," Ann noted, alternately disappointed and charmed.
"Yeah, it is," John agreed. He held her gaze a moment, considering. "Wanna grab some lunch?"
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Teyla was busily fussing over her infant son. She sang to him, cuddled and kissed him, tickled him to make him giggle and gurgle at her. She smiled, bestowing one last kiss before adjusting the blanket over him and then softly stepping away from the cradle. It was a private moment between mother and child and Kanaan did not wish to intrude, but he watched from the doorway, smiling.
Teyla stood a moment, gazing down at her child. Her son was more precious to her than anything or anyone. A child bearing the same Gift she bore, the ability to sense the Wraith. She prayed that someday perhaps such a Gift would no longer be necessary. She would rejoice to see that her child could live in a world without the fear of the Wraith.
Every mother had that wish for their child for several generations now.
Teyla met her husband's gaze, smiled and followed him into the adjoining room. "He is finally settled for the evening," she softly stated. "He was quite fussy but now he is fine."
"He missed his mother. As did I." Kanaan took her hand and led her to sit near the window. "What is troubling you, Teyla?"
"You know me too well." She glanced round the room. Candles softly flickered, casting tremulous shadows on the walls. She met his concerned gaze. His quiet strength was a comfort. "I wanted to talk to you first before I made a final decision."
"I think you already have reached a decision, my love."
She laughed. "Yes. I have. But I wish to consult with you first. Although I won the fight I do not feel that I…" Words failed her and she shrugged. She touched her sore cheek, dropped her hand to her lap.
"You have been our leader for many years, Teyla. You have done an outstanding service for our people. It was you who fostered our alliance with Atlantis. It was you who helped settle our people, or what is left of them on New Athosia. It is no longer enough, is it? You have outgrown the Athosian ways."
She stared at him, startled by his perspicacity. Although a quiet man, often overlooked and overshadowed Kanaan was very observant and thoughtful. He did not feel the need to claim the spotlight unless it was necessary, and he rarely revealed his emotions except when he was with Teyla and their son. In many ways he reminded her of John, except Kanaan was more open to talking, to sharing, to expressing his feelings compared to the closed-off, taciturn and at times socially awkward colonel. She nodded. "Yes…I…how did you…"
Kanaan smiled. "As have I, Teyla. I have been thinking on this for quite a while now, but I was unsure how to broach the subject with you. Our Athosian ways are time-honored and ancient, but that is the problem. The outdated rituals. The life of nomadic settlements. The belief in the all-powerful, all-beneficent Ancients. I have been training to be an engineer here and the more I see, the more I learn I wish to stay here. I wish our son to stay here and have the chance to better himself."
"You were not so amenable earlier," she gently reminded.
"No, I was not," he agreed. "But after being brainwashed by Michael to the extent of almost losing you and our son I tend to look at things quite differently now. Our people must grow, evolve, or become stagnant in their ways."
"I feel the same," she said, as relief swept through her. "I do not wish to abandon our ways, but I cannot pretend I feel the same reverence for them I once did. I will not abandon our people but I do not think I can be their leader any longer." She stood, staring out at the peaceful night. The waters gently lapped under the rising moon.
"Nor will I abandon our ways, our traditions. But our place is here, Teyla, with the Lanteans. We can better help our people here, in the city of the Ancients. What we learn here we can teach them, if they are willing. We can no longer rely on the past to save us. We need the future, and the future lies in Atlantis. And Torren will be much safer here from the Wraith, and with his Gift he may prove to be useful to Atlantis."
Teyla turned to him. She smiled as he drew her into his arms. She kissed him. "When did you become so wise, husband?"
He smiled. "I learned from my wife. When will you inform Halling?"
She considered. "Tomorrow. I am certain the colonel will allow me to return briefly to visit my people and to cement our alliance. I must find the right words."
"That has never been a problem for you. In fact you often have too many."
"Kanaan!" she scolded, but laughed as he pulled her towards the bed with a playful wink.