1. Chapter 1 by Shayz
2. Chapter 2 by Shayz
3. Chapter 3 by Shayz
4. Chapter 4 by Shayz
5. Chapter 5 by Shayz
6. Chapter 6 by Shayz
7. Chapter 7 by Shayz
8. Chapter 8 by Shayz
9. Chapter 9 by Shayz
10. Chapter 10 by Shayz
11. Chapter 11 by Shayz
12. Chapter 12 by Shayz
13. Chapter 13 by Shayz
14. Chapter 14 by Shayz
15. Chapter 15 by Shayz
16. Chapter 16 by Shayz
17. Chapter 17 by Shayz
18. Chapter 18 by Shayz
19. Chapter 19 by Shayz
20. Chapter 20 by Shayz
21. Chapter 21 by Shayz
22. Chapter 22 by Shayz
Elizabeth stands in front of the full length mirror, caressing the new pearls laced around her neck. They are exquisite, not of Earth but that makes them even more special. The beautiful dress she borrowed from an Athosian woman, Yianni, is made of cream colored embroidered lace over a sleeveless white silk sheath; lace alone covers her arms from shoulders to wrists. The bodice is a little tight, but gives her ample cleavage, and she can’t find fault with the effect. The skirt flares at the hips instead of the waist so it drapes elegantly over the tops of her shoes, which are old, tan and worn, but the only dress shoes she has; besides, only the pointed toes can be seen at any given moment.
A knock on the door doesn’t jar her, she’s been waiting impatiently for this sign, but her stomach flutters all the same. She opens the door and there he stands, looking beyond beautiful in his dress blues even with his perpetually mussed hair. She always liked the Air Force uniforms best, now she knows why. He smiles, flashing the dimples she adores. “You look gorgeous, Elizabeth.”
Her stomach flutters again. She takes a deep breath to still her nerves. “Thank you, Colonel. So do you.”
“But…” He tilts his head just a touch and looks her over. “Something’s missing.”
Elizabeth smoothes her palms over the Athosian lace. “I don’t think so.”
He grins as he pulls his hands from behind his back. One holding a fistful of lovely blue wild flowers tied with a long piece of embroidered white silk that matches her dress.
Elizabeth chokes back a joyous sob as she takes hold of the bouquet. The flowers smell of vanilla. Smiling and blinking back tears, she looks up at him and can see a shimmer of tears in his eyes as well. Elizabeth caresses his cheek. “John...”
He kisses her palm. “Ready?”
Taking another deep breath, she nods. John crooks his arm and she links hers through it. He kisses the side of her head. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
“I know. I love you too.”
He leads her down the corridors of the Daedalus. As they make their way to the bridge, personnel stand aside, smiles and applause start ringing through the corridors. Suddenly, music swells; traditional Earth music playing over the ship’s sound system.
Elizabeth’s heart thumps in time with the familiar song. She clutches his hand, but doesn’t stop walking. Nervous maybe…but determined nonetheless. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast, didn’t expect so much enthusiasm from the expedition team. And she surely didn’t expect Col. Steven Caldwell to be so…well, such a romantic.
But love is a powerful motivator. And boy, is she in-love.
They turn the final corridor and Elizabeth lays eyes on her best girlfriends grinning like kids in a rainbow of colors. All three wearing dresses similar to Elizabeth’s – made specifically for the occasion – only in three striking different colors. Though military, Laura is in a royal blue gown that dazzles, Teyla’s bronze skin glistens fabulously in plum and Angela’s absolutely stunning in crimson. Elizabeth hears John’s breath catch when he glimpses Angie in all her glory. The connection between those two never fails to amaze. She wishes Ronon could be here to see Teyla and Carson could see Laura, but Atlantis needs both to remain in the city just in case. She can’t wait to see their reactions later, however.
The women smile at Elizabeth, Angie blows a kiss to John then they turn in and waltz down the ‘aisle’ created by the people standing for the procession. Gasps and ‘ahhs’ echo back to Elizabeth and she grins again.
By her side, John links his fingers through hers and squeezes gently. “Last chance to make a run for it.”
She flashes him her patented stink-eye. “No way.”
John shrugs, though he smiles as well. And he escorts her down the aisle.
Steven, also in full uniform, stands at attention in front of the giant front windows overlooking the brilliant blue planet they call home. Rodney fidgets in his suit as he stands off to the right. Seems the best man might be even more nervous than the groom.
Laura, Teyla and Angela step off to the left as Elizabeth and John approach.
Her groom smiles, his eyes crinkle and the love in them washes over her. Her heart surges with adoration and gratitude that she finally found him. That she knows what true love really is. This man who was willing to risk everything to be with her.
Her soul mate.
John releases her hand as they come to a stop in front of Steven. He caresses her back before handing her off to the groom and stepping aside, taking his place in the front row.
Since the event is happening on the deck of the starship, everyone stands for the ceremony, which Elizabeth promised would be short and sweet so they can get back to work quickly. The Daedalus is due to leave for Earth in less than five hours.
“Who gives this woman to this man?”
John stands at attention. “I do.”
“Better get used to saying that,” Elizabeth whispers out the side of her mouth making Angie grin, John blush and the audience snigger.
Steven lifts his chin and everyone grows silent. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Dr. Elizabeth Weir and Major Jonathan Sheppard.”
She turns to look at her groom. “Jonathan?”
He shrugs, grinning. “For now.”
Elizabeth cups his cheek and he leans into her touch. “By any other name…” her smile slides into a sly smirk. “You’re still mine.”
“You bet.” He kisses her suddenly, passionately, getting whoops and cheers from the crowd.
“Hey,” Steven chides. “We haven’t gotten to that part yet.”
And everyone laughs.
John’s gaze slides from the bride and groom to his own betrothed who unashamedly has tears in her eyes. Tears of joy for one of her closest friends. Angie loves Elizabeth like a sister and John knows the feeling is mutual.
Betrothed he smirks. The word seems too old-fashioned when thinking of Angie. The spitfire, hellcat of a woman has captured his heart, mind and body. His soul inexplicably linked to hers through an accident with an alien device… and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
When Elizabeth made the crack about him having to get used to saying “I do” the blush that followed wasn’t out of embarrassment or nerves. He would willingly grab hold of Angie right now and say their vows up there with Elizabeth and Jonathan. But Angie refused to take Elizabeth out of the spotlight for even a moment. “This is her day. Their day. We’ll have ours and it’ll be fabulous… and all ours.” They haven’t set a date yet because Teyla’s friend on the mainland is making Angie’s wedding dress from scratch with materials from all over Pegasus that Teyla has chosen. If it’s anything like Elizabeth’s it’ll be breathtaking.
Angie’s gorgeous beyond belief with those dark brown bedroom eyes, pouty lips and lush black hair. And man, a single look or touch from this mortal goddess is enough to get his temperature soaring. But as ludicrous and ridiculously poetic as it might sound, it’s the internal strength and wisdom she has – and tried to hide for so long, even from herself – that drew him to her.
She’s his match in every way. They have so much in common, more so than any other woman he’s ever met. She’s a guy’s girl: smart, funny, sassy, adventuresome and a hellava lot of fun to be around. Sometimes, she’s as much a kid as he is… which drives the Atlantis crew crazy, especially Elizabeth, who’s gonna put them both in the brig if she catches them skateboarding through the city one more time.
Angie’s fond of saying: “I kinda failed the girly quiz early on.” She told him she couldn’t tell a Prada purse from a Target one, she’s never spent more than ninety minutes in a mall, doesn’t own tons of shoes and never went to the bathroom with a group of girls. Ok, so she doesn’t like sports unless it’s a movie about the sport, like “Remember the Titans” or that baseball one with Charlie Sheen, but she is a closet sci-fi geek and loves action movies almost more than John does. A big fan of “things that go boom!” she chuckled. She’s even gotten him hooked on disaster flicks from the seventies like The Towering Inferno, Earthquake and the Airport series.
Angie uses her knuckle to catch a falling tear and she must see him staring at her because her gaze shifts from the ceremony to him and John’s breath catches. Her lips twitch; her soft smile growing sultry as she returns his gaze. He can feel the love simply flowing off her in waves. It’s part of what makes their connection so incredible. Before, she’d be embarrassed to be caught showing such emotion. Angie does not like to cry and had the most difficult time expressing her feelings for John. But things have changed so much in the last few months; ever since their engagement. She’s more stable, less erratic, even though she still has the occasional mood swing, they usually follow a session with Heightmeyer or a dramatic metabolism meltdown. Poor woman has to eat more than McKay and likes it half as much.
Angie is probably the strongest person he’s ever met while still being the most emotionally fragile. She’s a conundrum. But he’s also content in the knowledge that while Angie may not need him to save her… she wants him to be with her. She’s choosing to be with him. And for John, that’s something he’s never known.
She’s not perfect, but then neither is he. She still hides things from him, like her age… and there’s still a part of her that houses Jax even if she tries to deny it. Jax was her cover for far too long and made it easy to hide behind the mask when things got uncomfortable. John knows that feeling well, he’s hidden behind sarcasm and jokes. Angie simply gets stoic and quiet… blank. John’s determined to break through that last bit of wall even if it takes a lifetime.
He’s not so self-deluded not to recognize his own ‘issues’, of which there are many, but one she called him on a while back that struck him hard. They went to I-zoola for a brief vacation after the incident on the hive ship. Angie was skating and fell on the ice during one of her twirling jumps. John rushed in to help her but she brushed him off and got back up. She hurt his feelings and he let her know it the only way he could: he yelled at her for being careless. So she yelled back. It erupted into an all out war of words about taking risks and not worrying about consequences… he still doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but she stopped him cold.
“Stop trying to be a goddamned hero all the time, John. You’re not on the job right now, you’re my fiancé watching me work at what I do best. I’m not some china doll, damsel-in-distress! And even if I was, you sure as hell know that if I fall down, by God, I’ll pick myself up if I can.” She poked him in the chest and he was so stunned by her wrath he couldn’t think of a comeback. “If I want help, I’ll ask for it. If that’s not something you can handle then you need to leave.” Heightmeyer called it his ‘savior complex’. John never accepted that diagnosis from the good doc. But seeing Angie’s reaction slammed the message home. And surprisingly enough, made him love her even more.
John had stared at her for the longest time, seeing the anger in her eyes was nothing new, he’d seen it before when she took out Kolya. But it was the churning in the pit of his gut that made him realize how true her words were. He did have a problem letting others – Angie particularly – do things that might get them hurt.
He goads her into wearing protective gear whenever they skateboard in the city even though he goes without so much as gloves. Whenever she goes off-world, John makes sure that if he can’t go, someone else is assigned to keep by her side at all times… and it grates on him until she returns. While planning for the wedding, Angie, Cadman, Teyla and Elizabeth were off-world together – without backup! – leaving John in charge of the city. When they didn’t come back on schedule, he had already organized a rescue team to go after them. Only to have them show up as the team was about to leave.
Elizabeth gave him an earful after that, especially since they’d only been two hours late. But then she turned around and puked in her waste basket because Angie had gotten them drunk – which was the reason they were late. John was livid but couldn’t find fault with Elizabeth’s argument, given that they’d been on an allied planet and John never once tried to dial in for radio contact. He just assumed they were in danger and needed rescuing.
Angie’s still watching him, as if reading his thoughts. She winks before giving her attention back to the bride and groom: Elizabeth and Jonathan. Now that’s not confusing at all, seeing your universal twin wedding the woman you once considered your own. John shakes off the thought. Yes, he loves Elizabeth. He always will. And there was a time that he believed he was in-love with her and Angie at the same time. But he realized the differences between his feelings for both women.
His devotion to Elizabeth is bonded in true friendship, companionship… possibly even soul mates as Angie once said. But the line had been drawn by fate or whatever that managed to keep them apart – something always did. And John finally realized their connection was far greater and more important than being together physically. They need each other and Atlantis needs both of them. And any damage to that emotional connection they share would be catastrophic for everyone.
Not everyone understands the situation between the three of them: him, Angie and Elizabeth. He’s heard the rumors and grumbles from some who don’t really know Angie. They call her a troublemaker, say she’s selfish for interfering with John and Elizabeth’s relationship, consider her an interloper in the city because she’s not a scientist or in the military. John’s not sure why this tension exists. Angie has done incredible things for morale: teaching ice-skating and dance to anyone who wanted to learn, including the Athosian and I-zoolan children. And the I-zoolan’s could not love her more than they already do and it makes John so proud to be with her on those trips. Receiving and accepting compliments on anything has never been easy for her… and the blush that rises in her cheeks makes John weak in the knees.
John’s love for Elizabeth transcends being in-love or lust – though those glimpses he still gets from Jon when the two are going at it… that’s gotta stop! Still he finds it odd that he’s not jealous of Jonathan, because on some level he is Jonathan…or was – he still gets confused by the whole timeline thing – and he makes Elizabeth happy. That’s all he can ask for. His best friend deserves to be loved unconditionally, without reservation or a split heart. Jonathan gives her that. And John can now freely admit to himself that despite early protestations, he is head-over-heels in-love with Angie and probably has been from the start.
He never could have taken the women up on the deal they offered him: to share him. Though he did consider it for a few moments… okay a day, but he’d already found himself locked into Angie. After what happened on Huskin, John almost lost her and that memory still shakes him. If he wakes in the dead of night and she’s not next to him in bed, he has to fight off momentary panic until he realizes she’s only inches away. They spoon most of the time now, though she still claims not to like cuddling. But John has to laugh as she holds tight to his arm draped over her waist and links her fingers with his.
She’s come so far in a short time here. It still amazes him that he really didn’t know she existed before Ronon came to the city. John knew her as someone who worked in the infirmary, had heard about the dance instructions, though he’d never witnessed one until the day in the gym with Ronon and the other men. Back then, Jax, as she was known, was kind of an elusive entity, not in his inner circle, though not completely outside it either. And, then, all the secrecy surrounding her had not only intrigued him but pulled him in; and again her elusiveness combined with the need to protect her hit him like a sledgehammer. She’d been through enough for one lifetime, so John felt drawn to her. That savior complex really did him in.
Then the Ancient “honeymoon” addiction kicked in and they were inseparable. But it wasn’t until Kolya kidnapped and tortured her and she managed to not only save herself but John's team as well that John finally realized: this is the woman for me. And it had nothing to do with saving her… but saving himself. Angie broke through all the walls that not only she built up, but the ones John had erected for himself as well. She even managed to get Ronon to lighten up. Now that’s an amazing feat if John ever witnessed one.
Okay, so he’s a man in-love… everything she does is magic! John grins. So what. The truth is, not everything she does goes over well. That Halloween party that died before it was born. Her and Cadman’s attempts at a scavenger hunt – just between the two of them – which had McKay raging for both their heads when some Ancient trinkets went missing.
John stifles a chuckle. Angie and Laura Cadman are the strangest pair… and yet they make total sense. Lucy and Ethel… Laverne and Shirley… they got nothin’ on these two goofballs.
John clearly remembers the water balloon fight through the halls of Atlantis between the two women that eventually led to the soul-bond between him and Angie. If it hadn’t been for Cadman…
He can’t think about that. Can’t fathom not having this dark angel in his life.
John’s only problem is that he thinks the feelings he has for Angie just might kill him. He’s never been so deeply entrenched in someone else. When she hurts, he hurts, when she’s happy, he’s happy… and when she’s … oh man when she’s in the mood God help him! They still have that constant need for each other, though they no longer fight through withdrawals. He simply needs to touch her, smell her to get his fix, but when they make love he’s still insatiable, they both are. She’s so unworldly gorgeous when they’re together. He can’t get enough of her. The way they fit together, bring out so much pleasure in each other… it’s hypnotic almost. He can’t close his eyes when he’s with her. He keeps her face in his mind when he’s off-world. He can sense when she’s nearby: a pleasant tingle low in his gut that bounces to his heart when she smiles at him.
Just like earlier in the corridor when she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a storage closet. John felt the rush of her as he entered the corridor and his body immediately reacted to her presence… her lust-filled presence.
The room was small and dark except for a tiny red light above the door. Her mouth was on his instantly and John gave in, deepening the kiss, tasting her, taking from her as much as she took from him. “Damn, you’re so beautiful in dress blues! It should be illegal you being this gorgeous,” she said in the gravely voice he’s still getting used to, her hands working frantically on his belt.
John chuckled. He’d gotten dressed on Atlantis and just arrived even though the ceremony was still a half-hour off. “Look who’s talking.” His voice hushed as he traced her jaw line with kisses. “You’re wearing a fucking dress again!”
She leaned back and smiled slyly at him. “Tell me you want me.”
John sank his fingers deep into her soft curls, pulling her head back to expose her neck and growled as his lips latch onto her throat. “I always want you!” She whimpered when he hit the right spot and John’s pants were becoming increasingly restrictive. Her fingers unlatched the top button. With a groan he pulled back. “But we can’t. No time and… I only have the one uniform.”
She sighed, closing her eyes in disappointment. But then her eyes opened and locked with his. A fierce gleam told him she wasn’t in the mood for ‘not now’. “But I could be anyone,” she drawled, drawing his zipper down, feeling him growing, hardening against the brush of her knuckles. “A stow-away. A spy. I should be thoroughly searched.” Her lips played lightly over his. “And if found guilty… thoroughly punished.”
John closed his eyes and groaned, as if he actually had to think about this. She’s his Aphrodite, his Venus… he can’t say no to her… never wants to say no. “You really are a Very Bad Girl.” He kissed her this time, tasting the cherry gloss on her lips, loving the feel of her tongue darting against his and the happy mewl in her sigh.
Taking a deep breath, she grasped his face in both hands and caught his gaze; hers so full of desire it made his knees weak. No woman has ever done that to him. Sure he’s felt wanted, desired before… but not hungered for. “What are you gonna do about it?”
John spun her around and pushed her toward the wall. Her hands slapped against the metal with a soft thunk. He leaned in and whispered thickly against her ear. “Whatever I want.” He felt a shiver rush through her body that excited him to no end. “Spread your legs, lady.”
With a familiar shudder that told him she was beyond ready for him, Angie did as she was told and slid her legs apart, at least as far as the tight skirt would permit. He gripped her hips, slowly pushing upward over the silky material that encased her breasts, enjoying the tactile sensation. He cupped and squeezed mercilessly at the tender flesh beneath his heated touch. She leaned into his grasp, breathing heavy. His fingers dipped into her warm cleavage as he stepped closer, pressing himself against her backside. “I think you’re hiding something from me,” he said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His hands smoothed down her body, over her stomach, down her legs. He squatted and rummaged under the skirt, each hand running upward over a toned leg, lifting the skirt as he stood up; his pants slipped around his ankles at the same time.
Damn! She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he hissed, feeling his boxers getting even tighter.
“Find something, sir?” she asked breathlessly.
He cupped her bare ass. “Not exactly. But I’m not complaining either.” He pushed his hand between her legs, feeling her out, parting her and finding that sweet nub of nerves with his fingertips. She cooed and writhed against his hand. John loved the feel of her in his hand, under his command… though he’d never tell her that last part. He could do anything to her now, anything at all and she’d let him. She’d beg him even. That kind of power over another person could really screw with someone’s brain. The fact that all he wanted to do now was send her into a frenzy of pleasure tempered everything else. Sure he had control, right now… but only because she let him. She trusted him enough. Loved him enough.
John’s heart thudded against his ribs. He hadn’t thought about it much before. He just loved her and hoped that she loved him in return. Even though she told him she did, how could he be sure? Women had told him they loved him before and he’d been hurt; eventually, he learned to get out before it was too late… before his heart got completely stomped when emotions changed.
But with Angie it was already too late. He was lost. If anything happened to her, or if she suddenly decided she didn’t want him, he’d be devastated. Inconsolable. He knew that. He accepted it.
Soft pants combined with a kind of purring sound at the base of her throat told John to move on and he quickly slipped his middle finger inside her. She spasmed at the contact. “You are hiding something.” Hot and wet. Angie was always primed for him, probably a reaction to the Ancient device. “I think a more thorough search of you is in order.” He added another finger and started pumping fast and furious, making her bite her lip so she wouldn’t cry out and alert their presence. He grabbed her hair with his free hand and yanked her head back, turning her to look at him. “You’re mine now… no one to help you.”
Her glazed eyes widened. “Are you going to hurt me?” she asked in a deceptively innocent voice.
He grazed her ear with his teeth. “No. Just fuck your brains out,” he hissed. John kissed her hard but also pulled away both his hands, getting a whimper in return that made him smile. Not bothering to drop his shorts, John freed himself and grasped her hips again; bunching the dress in his fists, he pulled her hips back as he roughly drove inside.
“Oh God!” she cried and John quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
“Don’t say a word,” he hissed into her ear. “Understand.”
She nodded acquiescence, but he didn’t take his hand from her mouth as he pulled out and drove back into her again, powerfully, possessively. She gasped and he did it again and again, driving both of them crazy. She felt so good around him. Taking hold of him, possessing him as he did her.
Sometimes he wondered if this was healthy, their need for each other, the unending want that simply drove both of them beyond reason. But those thoughts were fleeting, especially when he was buried deep inside Angie – which didn’t have to be all the time, but sure as hell felt like heaven.
“You’re a thief. I know it and you do.” He ground his hips against her and she cried out, the sound of pleasure barely muffled by his hand. John shoved his middle finger between her lips. It was the same one he’d just had inside her. Angie moaned as she started sucking on it, twirling her tongue around the tip, then the length, making John so incredibly hard as he relentlessly pounded into her. “God! Angie!” He didn’t want to break character, but damn what she did to him!
She was moving back against him, pushing onto him as he shoved upward. John thought he might black out from the pleasure surging through his body.
Time seemed to stand still for them whenever they were like this. John couldn’t hear anything beyond the air rushing in and out of her nose, his own harsh breathing, the slap of skin against skin. He didn’t want to mess her dress or his uniform, but couldn’t help taking her so roughly. It’s not something they normally do, this game play, but whenever it happens, whatever the scenario, John can’t deny how hot it gets him or the intense pleasure of his release.
He slammed into her, faster and faster, a steel rod of flesh between her sweet, silky folds and she whimpered with need behind his hand. He pressed into her, releasing his hold on her hip so he could reach around and free a plump breast for his fierce desire. She shuddered again as he palmed her mound, rubbing a peak between his fingers only to pinch it, making her whimper even louder. He nearly came then, but managed to hold off. And then she was pushing back again, clenching tight around him. John bit his lip, she wasn’t ready yet, close but not there just yet. He could go at any moment; he just needed to hold on so he could take her with him.
His lips found the spot between her shoulder and neck, the spot that drives her crazy for some unknown reason. He played the tip of his tongue over it before snapping his teeth down – not too hard but just enough.
And then a muffled “Johnny” came from behind his hand and her body was seizing him, squeezing, sending bolts of pleasure straight to his spine and John let go. He came with a couple sharp thrusts and a rather loud “Angel!” but by then he didn’t care who heard or even saw them. Damn they're good together!
Slumping forward, John buried his face against her shoulder riding out the pleasure. They stayed locked together, coming down from the high. He could feel her arms trembling under the strain, knew if he let go of her waist, her legs would give out, so he held on tight, relishing the closeness.
He withdrew his hand from her mouth, but she grabbed his wrist and planted a kiss on his palm before releasing him. She looked at him over her shoulder. “So amazing… you should be illegal.”
John chuckled. Regrettably, he withdrew from her and both let out a sigh of completion. Angie turned to him, grinning. “So, what am I supposed to have stolen?”
John cupped her face. “My heart and soul.”
She blinked, startled then a softer smile graced her lips and she palmed his cheek. “Then we’re even.”
“Good to know.” He kissed her lightly, tenderly then pressed his forehead to hers. “You can’t have yours back.”
“I wouldn’t want them if I could.” Then she looked at him, the startle gone, replaced with so much warmth his heartbeat tripled. “I’m yours…always.”
John smiled, kissed the tip of her nose and ran his hand over her lush curls again. “Same here.”
It took them a few moments to stop staring at each other. John always loved a good stare, especially when he was looking into Angie’s chocolate eyes. But a sharp voice beyond the door reminded them where they were. A kiss later and they quickly set themselves to rights. Amazingly enough, once fully dressed, they didn’t look any worse for wear. She’d have to clean up elsewhere but on the outside it seemed all Angie needed was to fix her lipstick and possibly dab on some face powder given the glisten of her skin, but other than that, she looked so gorgeous, there was no telling that he’d just ravaged her in a storage closet on the Daedalus.
Before they left the closet, Angie gave him a bouquet of blue flowers for Elizabeth. “Trust me, she’ll love ‘em.” John kissed her cheek and headed for the nearest free quarters to make sure he was presentable.
John shifts on his feet as the vows start coming to a close. He catches Angie watching him again, a sly gleam in her eyes telling him she knows exactly what he was thinking about. Slowly, she licks her lips and gives him the dirtiest smirk he’s ever seen.
A promise he has no intention of letting her forget.
TWO WEEKS BEFORE the wedding, Elizabeth leaned against the pillows surrounding her. Her butt had fallen numb a while ago but she wasn’t in any mood to move, not to mention too drunk to even try to stand.
They were in Teyla’s room following the shower the women in the city had thrown for Elizabeth. All four were quite drunk on Angie’s Huskin Hooch, as she calls it. The tingles and giggles were beyond fun. And then the surprises started. Those three were nothing if not constantly surprising her.
“I can’t believe all the lingerie you got. Where did these women get the chance to go shopping?” Laura asked, carefully folding the gifts and putting them aside. She glanced at Angie, her mouth quirking wryly. “I certainly hope they went shopping.”
“Ewww!” Angie and Laura exclaimed. Laura abruptly tossed the red lacey underwear aside as if burned.
Elizabeth eyed the gifts suspiciously. “You’re not seriously considering…”
Teyla put her hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth. They are merely playing a game with you. I know as they do that all these gifts were brought here on the Daedalus.”
“Really?”
Laura and Angie laughed. “You can thank Col. Carter when you get the chance,” Laura said.
“Sam?”
“Well… and Jack.” Elizabeth’s brows shot up. Angie grinned. “It was his Victoria’s Secret catalog Sam confiscated and sent here.”
“Really.” They chuckled at that bit of knowledge as Angie refilled everyone’s mug.
Elizabeth wasn’t much of a drinker, but this moonshine was definitely the find of a lifetime. Not once had she heard of anyone waking up with a hangover… just one of the perks. And the only con, considering the promise she made to Teyla over three weeks ago, was that it also made her unbelievably horny. A promise John – her John – wasn’t thrilled about.
Pulling Elizabeth’s thoughts away from a beautiful image of a naked Major John Sheppard hovering above her, Teyla handed her a rather large box wrapped in paper from Earth. “Laura was kind enough to show me how. I do hope the wrapping is to your liking.”
“It’s beautiful Teyla, thank you.” Elizabeth opened the box, being careful to save the ribbon and bow for the mock bouquet Angie was putting together. Elizabeth gasped when she saw the amazing dress within.
“I believe this is the ‘borrowed’ part of your tradition,” Teyla said, adding somewhat sadly. “I apologize for not having something from my own family, but all was lost…”
Elizabeth grasped Teyla’s hand. “It’s truly beautiful, Teyla. Thank you.”
“I believe it should fit you well. Yianni’s mother wore this for her binding ceremony and she was similar to your build. It is the only of its kind in the galaxy.” Elizabeth pulled the dress from the box and stood up – sort of – to hold the dress up.
Laura clapped. “You will look amazing in that, Elizabeth.”
She slunk back down to her pillows on the floor, near tears. “Teyla…I…” she had been certain that the closest thing to a wedding gown she could get was the gray suit she’d brought back after their first return to Earth. It’s not like she could requisition one; after all, the ceremony wasn’t common knowledge for the IOA or Stargate Command.
Teyla merely grasped Elizabeth’s hand in return and they shared a silent moment with tears brimming in both their eyes. Afterward, Teyla handed Elizabeth a folded piece of paper. “We agreed not only to Earth traditions,” she said indicating the other two women. “But of Athosian as well. It is from my lineage that you receive a second gift from each of us.”
“A second gift… Teyla…”
“It is merely wisdom of generations that we are to impart to you, nothing more. Something spiritual or personal for you to embrace on your binding night.”
Elizabeth took the note and read it to herself. She smiled as she held it to her heart. “Thank you.”
“Well…?” Laura asked excitedly.
“Personal,” Elizabeth snapped with wide eyes and a sly grin.
“No such thing in this room, Dr. Weir.” Laura snatched the note and read it out loud: “As the moment of joining nears, say this oath to ensure mutual pleasure and lasting love.” Laura’s eyes narrowed and she glowered. “It’s written in Ancient!”
Teyla smirked. “Of course it is… the blessing is personal to each joining… there are none shared or spoken by another.”
“Teyla!” Laura and Angie growled with giggles as they threw popcorn at the third woman. She had obviously broken one of their present-giving rules. Elizabeth couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
The three women had been her constant companions since the announcement of her wedding to the Major. Either Teyla or Laura had determined to be her personal bodyguard whenever going off-world for whatever reason. Angie had made a point of taking care of Elizabeth’s work load as much as possible. In effect, she became Elizabeth’s secretary, scheduling meetings, writing summaries of all those overly verbose scientific reports, even dogging the off-world teams into getting their reports in on time. And then the three of them made it a point to drag Elizabeth off for ‘girl’s only’ rituals of relaxation at least twice a week. They had grown close in the last few weeks; the laughter of their group could probably be heard all over the city at any given hour. Even with the dangers they faced daily, Elizabeth had never been so content or had so much fun as she had in the past month.
She’d had close friends on Earth, of course. But over time they drifted apart. Her work with the UN had taken her to different countries for any length of time – most of it classified – and her friends had gone on with their lives… without her. She’d missed so much: weddings, babies, divorces… she really hadn’t been close with anyone in years.
Even her own vow of not creating personal relationships with those who worked under her on Atlantis could not keep these three women from becoming her good friends. They refused to take ‘no’ for an answer. And she was so grateful about that. Especially now. Without her family – her mother – here to stand by her, Elizabeth was beyond grateful to Angie, Laura and especially Teyla for welcoming her, making her an important part of their lives.
Teyla actually squealed as she returned fire on her attackers with her own stash of weapons: M&M’s. When both Angie and Laura started catching them in their mouths, all four women started laughing hysterically. Laura and Angie practically fell into Elizabeth as the giggle-fit overtook them.
It was several minutes and a couple shots later before Laura handed Elizabeth a rectangular box wrapped in the same paper. Elizabeth opened it quickly only to be shocked by the sight of her own tan shoes, recently polished but still… her own shoes?
Laura shook her head, chuckling. “Something old.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t have any downtime back on Earth. But please take into consideration what I had to go through just to get to those things. I had to be nice to McKay and talk him into letting me into your room.”
Elizabeth shook her head again this time laughing as she placed the box aside. “Well, that makes it so much more special. Thank you Laura.”
She sipped her drink. “You’re very welcome.” They all stared at Laura, waiting for the words of wisdom she was supposed to impart. “Oh… right. Um…” Her face turned serious. “Always remember and please never forget that ummm…” she hiccupped then giggled. “Where was I?” Laura waved a hand absently. “Oh yeah. always wear clean, non-matronly underwear… and sexy bras when in the vicinity of your husband. Or better yet… nothing at all, unless in public.” Laura raised an eyebrow, “Of course, ignoring that last part could be fun too.”
Angie coughed mockingly into her hand. “Exhibitionist.”
Elizabeth simply stared at the lieutenant. “Those were words of wisdom passed down to you?”
Laura nodded, very proud of herself. “From my mom to my sister to me.”
Elizabeth shrugged, laughing again. “Okay. Thank you very much.”
“Oh, another thing. Um… since, you know, the shoes were already yours… I kinda broke the rules and got you something else.”
“You what?!” That was Angie and Teyla, both glowering at their cohort in crime. They weren’t terribly upset, mostly because they were terribly drunk.
Laura shrugged. “I had to. It’s a woman of honor thing…or maid… which one am I?”
“You’re all my maids of honor… I couldn’t choose remember?”
“Right,” Laura saluted sloppily. “Maid of honor thing.” She handed Elizabeth another package, decidedly smaller than the shoe box. Elizabeth opened it with wariness. It was a lovely ceramic bottle with a wax stopper. She popped the stopper and took a whiff. The smell was intoxicating and sent a thrill right through her. “Ohmigod.” She passed the bottle to Teyla who passed it to Angie.
“You little minx!” Angie said, handing the bottle back to Elizabeth but talking to Laura. “How did you get it?”
Elizabeth couldn’t resist taking another sniff of the delicious substance. “What is it?”
“Kilpar,” Teyla said, her voice suddenly husky and her lids heavy. “Found only among the J’klong tribe on Ryl.” She turned to Laura. “However did you trade for it?”
“Yeah? They wouldn’t even take any Hershey’s from me! Not even with almonds,” Angie cried.
Laura shrugged smugly. “Some of us have it…some of you don’t.” She chuckled, making Angie reach over and smack her arm, but Angie misjudged the distance, not only didn’t she touch Laura, but fell face first into the pillows in front of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was hard-pressed not to keep smelling the spicy-sweet concoction in her hands. She had a desperate urge to find John and pour it all over his body. “What is this stuff… I can’t stop…” she smelled it again.
Teyla pulled it from her grasp and quickly stuck the stopper back in the bottle. “It is a very potent – and rare – joining liquid.”
Elizabeth raised her brows. “A what?”
Laura nodded her head side to side. “Kilpar is an edible lotion specifically made for…well… getting off.”
“The scent alone has been known to drive men and some women into a frenzy of desire,” Teyla said, her gaze slowly returning to normal or as normal as it was before.
“Ohmigod,” Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed with a rush of giggles. “It’s Angie in a bottle!”
“What?” Angie asked finally pushing herself up from the pillows. “I’m in a bottle? How’d I get into a bottle?”
Laura sputtered a laugh only to be followed by Elizabeth and Teyla. Angie looked decidedly confused, glancing wildly at all of them, her drunken state merely adding fuel to the hilarity. “What?”
Since the pheromone incident several months before, Angela Peterson had been plagued with an uncanny ability to attract not only the opposite sex, but the gentler one as well. Elizabeth actually suggested a study on the topic to one of the social scientists in the city.
After the laughter subsided to a few chuckles here and there, it was Angie’s turn to give her present. “Something new,” she said. It was a small, long wooden box, unwrapped, but beautiful in its own right. Elizabeth recognized the carvings had been done by the same person who made the box that had held Angie’s engagement ring from Col. Sheppard.
Her heart leapt into her throat when she opened the lid and was caught off-guard by the beauty inside. A single strand of perfect iridescent pearls lay within a silk bed. Elizabeth couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened with emotion as she carefully pulled the pearls from the box and draped them over the back of her hand.
“Wow,” Laura broke the silence. “No wonder you wouldn’t let us see them.”
Elizabeth locked her gaze on Angie’s and all she could do was smile through the tears that finally dripped from her eyes.
“Oh no you don’t!” Angie said forcefully, leaning over and grabbing Elizabeth into a fierce hug.
“They’re so beautiful…” Elizabeth finally managed on a whisper.
Angie cupped Elizabeth’s face, wiping the tears away with her thumbs as Elizabeth’s mother did when she was a child. Angie’s smile was genuine and full of love. “So are you.”
Elizabeth sucked in a harsh breath. Her words shaky when she let them out. “I never thought… I’ve never had such close… I love you guys so much!” And she burst into tears this time, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Ohhhh!” Laura attacked Elizabeth from the other side, wrapping both her and Angie into an even bigger hug. Teyla, usually one to hold back from such shows of emotion finally joined in and they all sat there rocking and crying and giggling like fools.
It took several minutes and a rather long burp from Laura to finally make the women part with another bellow of laughter. They poured more moonshine and made a toast to friendship and sisterly love. Teyla cleared her throat, wiping tears away as she turned toward Angie with raised brows.
Then Laura and Elizabeth followed suit. “What?” Angie asked, clearly confused. “Oh,” she sighed. Her eyes widened and she looked like she was about to say something profound but instead gave a single shoulder shrug and said: “I got nothin’.”
Laura and Teyla both picked up pillows and started hitting her. Angie cowered away, giggling. “What? You all have way more experience, ie: wisdom, than me!”
“And you’ve experienced way more John… and positions than us!” Cadman laughed. She glanced at Elizabeth. “Okay, maybe not all of us.” And more giggles erupted.
Angie calmed down, getting serious for a moment. She smiled, nodding. “Okay. Not so much handed down wisdom, but… I do know this… no matter what universe slash alternate reality slash ethereal plane of existence… he’s still John Sheppard with the same baggage, quirks, sense of humor…”
“Is this going somewhere soon?” Laura asked, motioning with a speed-it-up gesture.
Angie grasped Elizabeth’s hands and gave them a squeeze. “He only needs one thing besides you. Tell him you love him. A lot. If I know this guy… and I think I do… it doesn’t hurt to give a little reassurance.”
Elizabeth squeezed back and they shared a silent moment of understanding.
“You two aren’t gonna start making out or something are you?” Laura asked causing the other three to stare at her before bursting into laughter yet again.
“The Weir-Sheppard wedding party has arrived,” Chuck announces over the PA system as Angie and John stroll arm-in-arm into the Gateroom followed by Rodney linked between Teyla and Laura. They stand in front of the giant gate as everyone else gathers around the room to wait. A few moments pass before a brilliant white light glistens in the center of the room as Elizabeth and Jonathan are beamed down from the Daedalus.
Applause erupts, echoing throughout the city.
Angie can’t tell where her joy ends and the rest of the expedition’s begins. She’s giggling before she knows it and can’t find a reason to stop. She catches Elizabeth’s gaze and shouts: “I dare you!” over the loud din.
Elizabeth doesn’t even flinch at the inside joke they share; she simply grabs the back of Jonathan’s head and pulls him in for a searing kiss, much to the delight of everyone around.
It’s moments like these that make Angie so grateful for all the crap she went – hell, they all went through – to get here. This is what life is about. Seeing everyone happy, feeling all the love swarming around this giant family. She gives John’s hand a squeeze, gazing up at him, seeing the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes and knowing without a doubt that he is also happy for the newlyweds.
That last bit of niggling doubt that Jax planted in her brain about John’s remorse over losing Elizabeth – even to himself as weird as that thought is – vanishes when John’s gaze slides to hers. He raises her hand and kisses her fingers. “We’re next.”
Angie’s heart leaps. “You bet your hot bod we are,” she whispers as John leans down and captures her lips with his. She can tell he’s hoping to re-ignite that fire they started in the storage closet little over an hour ago.
The party gets started as well-wishers approach the newlyweds and the music begins. Rodney shrugs off his duty as Laura and Teyla’s escort and races for the buffet table, leaving both women to shake their heads, though both smile with acceptance.
Chuck announces Elizabeth’s and Jonathan’s first dance as a married couple and the two begin to move slowly to the music as everyone watches. They move beautifully together, graceful and elegant as anyone Angie has ever seen. Others watching also appreciate the amazing duo as applause rise up after a lovely turn. The first song ends and another begins almost immediately. According to not only Earth but Athosian traditions, it is now time for everyone to join in the celebration.
Ronon arrives from the Control room after being left in charge of Atlantis during the ceremony – having cleaned up rather nicely – to take up the space next to Teyla that Rodney vacated. “Dance with me,” he says, offering her his hand.
Angie watches with delight as the two merge onto the ‘dance floor’ which is basically any place in front to the gate itself. Several other couples – some rather surprising, like Lt. Cadman and Major Lorne – slowly glide their way onto the floor. Angie’s rather amused to see Sgt. Sharon Fuller aka ‘Maddog’ pulling a reluctant Carson Beckett along. After a moment, it’s no wonder he’s so reluctant, the poor doctor has two left feet, but Sharon takes it in stride – and the lead as well – so that Carson can relax. Sharon catches Laura’s eye and winks. Ah, Angie thinks wryly, it’s a conspiracy… she’s teaching Carson to dance for Laura’s sake.
John gently pulls Angie into the mix. He holds her hand close to his heart so she can feel it beating. His other presses against the small of her back, making her tingle. They move in time to the music, gazing at each other. He leans in, pressing his mouth against her ear. “So. Still commando?”
The hope and lust in his voice nearly undo her. The way he looks in his uniform is enough to send her into a tizzy of a visual orgasm. The man is going to kill her with sex one of these days… and she’s kind of looking forward to it. He is such a horndog… but at least he’s her horndog!
But as much as she wants to strip him naked right now (as always really), Angie made a promise to both Teyla and Laura to stay at the party for the duration to make sure Elizabeth is distracted enough to keep her promise as well. That’s why she just had to have John before the wedding. Angie knew there’d be no time afterward and he just looked so unbelievably yummy walking down that corridor, she couldn’t keep her hands to herself.
Still, she doesn’t have the heart to torture him with desire at the moment. “Sorry darling… that was just for you at the time.”
John tugs her earlobe between his lips and her legs nearly buckle. “We can remedy that right now.”
Angie plants a hand on his chest and gently pushes him back. She raises her brow. “Wedding… reception… public.” Then she grins naughtily. “Don’t worry, lover. You’ll get yours… later.”
John grumbles something about blue balls and Angie has to laugh. Eyes turn to her and she actually feels a blush rise in her cheeks. She slips her hand from his shoulder down his back to his butt, giving him a good pinch. “How ‘bout blue butt, mister.”
John jerks at the pinch. “Evil woman,” he grumbles but grins, returning his attention to the dancing.
“Absolutely,” Angie grins in return. She knows their sex life is beyond normal and that it’s what brought them together in the first place, but the warmth in John’s eyes and the way his fingers link with hers tells her in more ways than words that their relationship is more than lust.
She’d been worried, even after he told her he loved her, even after the engagement… that John still wanted, still loved Elizabeth. But as the saying goes, actions speak more than words. John’s actions – and not just those during their sweaty sessions – are what make Angie feel his love more than anything: the way he holds her when their sleeping, the gentle look in his eyes when she catches him watching her, breakfast in bed even when he has to go off-world. Even his growing fondness for watching old TV shows and disaster flicks with her. But the most telling is when she meets someone for the first time – like the woman who made her ring and Elizabeth’s necklace – and finds out how John has described her to others… how he talks about her when she’s not around.
How he actually asked not only Jack but Ronon for permission to marry her. That thought makes her giggle and tingle just as much as the Huskin hooch she keeps trading for.
He’s always thinking about her… she can feel it deep down.
John Sheppard loves me!
It’s a revelation that she found hard to believe. Hard to hold on to and trust. But she does now. She trusts it and John completely. Something Jax would never have done. But Angela Peterson holds on to the knowledge like a lifeline. Aside from her parents, Angie’s never felt so connected to anyone. Even Ronon – who is basically her brother and who she loves unconditionally – doesn’t affect her in the way Lt. Col. John Sheppard does and always will.
Angie looks into his eyes, ready to drown in them. She smiles at him. “What?” he asks, suddenly serious.
“I love you.”
John smiles, not the sarcastic smirk or even using the playful dimples of utter destruction, he just smiles. “I know.” And he kisses her with such tenderness she nearly melts into a puddle.
Jonathan pulls Elizabeth tight against him on the dance floor. She sways in his arms and giggles a little as he plants a gentle kiss on her nose. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are?”
She smiles, gazing into his beautiful marble colored eyes. “Not in the last five minutes.”
He kisses her and it takes all her willpower not to push for a more passionate kiss. They’ve been apart far too long and she’s about ready to take him here and now in public. Damn Athosian traditions! Elizabeth sighs as Jonathan ends the kiss and then plants one on her forehead.
“Can we get out of here now?” He asks, his voice husky with desire.
Elizabeth closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath; filling her senses with him. “No.” She is just as disappointed as him but Jonathan actually growls in frustration. “It’s been three weeks, Elizabeth.”
“Three weeks, two days and fourteen hours actually,” she replies, his frustration echoing in her voice. She catches his gaze again, holding it. “But I made a promise to Teyla to honor the Athosian traditions.”
“Elizabeth… you do realize that it’s midnight… somewhere in the galaxy?”
She grins, kissing him lightly. “It’s only a couple more hours.” Her gaze narrows on his luscious lips as she swipes the bottom one with a fingertip. “I promise you the wait will be worth it.”
Jonathan dips her dramatically and plants a kiss on her neck, making her giggle again. He stares down at her. “You bet it will.” He lifts her back up and kisses her full on to the joy and cheers of the reception party around them.
A spin around the floor later, Elizabeth catches sight of John and Angie dancing close by. She wonders if either of them is aware of the aura they produce when together; the bliss that emanates from both of them. It’s an odd feeling, one Elizabeth has never experienced when in the presence of other couples. Perhaps it’s a Pegasus Galaxy thing. Or maybe it’s because of the ancient device and the connection it gave them or the fact that both of them are so proficient with the ATA gene. She doesn’t know, probably never will. But she’s not the only one to notice it either.
Teyla mentioned it once during lunch, as she and Elizabeth spotted the couple returning from one of their rigorous and highly illegal skate boarding runs… she still hasn’t figured out how to catch them at that, but when she does…
She shakes her head slightly. They’re such children sometimes, giddy and full of life and adventure. It makes her feel rather old to berate them about such things. But John is her second-in-command and he should try to show a little maturity and not so much adolescence.
“As Charin would say,” Teyla noted at the time. “They were made for each other. It is a most honorable gift from the ancestors.” Teyla had touched Elizabeth’s hand. “You and the Major share the same gift, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth was startled by the statement. “You think so?”
Teyla merely smiled knowingly. “It is not unusual for those within the aura to not recognize it. You have found your match in this lifetime as John and Angie have found each other. It was meant to be this way.”
Elizabeth felt bolstered by the information. She wasn’t one for tales of fate or prophesies of such things, but it filled her with a sense of peace. The connection she shared with Major John Sheppard scared her… not because of the intensity but because she had been sure that her love belonged to the Colonel. She was worried her feelings were merely a transfer and that in the end she would hurt her beloved Major… something she could not live with.
But Teyla’s stories carried down from Charin told of love beyond time, beyond boundaries of flesh and blood. From Teyla’s point of view, Elizabeth loved Major John Sheppard when he went on the suicide run. The reason she did not pursue a relationship with him upon his return was because it was the ‘wrong’ John who returned. The wrong one for her. The one who returned was destined for Angie. The ancestors had deemed it so.
In an odd way it actually made sense to Elizabeth. She felt it in her gut. When John had returned from the suicide run, she’d been so grateful, so happy she hugged him. But then she pulled back. Something had stopped her. She couldn’t explain it to herself other than not wanting to risk her job on Atlantis… but even then that had been a hollow excuse. It was simply not right.
But when John came to her, made love to her in her dreams as it turned out, only to return to Atlantis later without his memory, it had felt so right she couldn’t stay away from him, no matter how much it had hurt Angie.
So, Elizabeth had been destined to wait for her John to find her again. Which he did, risking everything – immortality, higher knowledge – everything to be with her. Elizabeth looks up at Jonathan and finds him watching her with the same intensity he had on those stairs long ago, when he left her… to save the city. “I love you.”
Elizabeth smiles, a thrill surging in her heart. “I know.” She kisses him, letting him know how much she loves him in return.
“They are well matched,” Ronon says, leading Teyla toward the buffet, though looking back at both couples who are still dancing. The only two couples still dancing. Most of the others have drifted away to eat and talk, but both Sheppards and their women seem not to notice that others are actually in the same room.
“Yes, they are,” Teyla says but there is something in her voice.
Ronon looks at Teyla. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “It is nothing.” Ronon touches her shoulder and she turns to look up at him. “I am merely concerned… life here is so perilous...”
Ronon looks to the happy couples again. “You fear for them.”
Teyla nods. “I do.”
Ronon hands Teyla a cup of Athosian wine. “Don’t.” She takes the cup and he clinks it with his. “They are happy now. And now is all that matters.”
Teyla smiles, taking a sip of the wine. She nods in agreement. “You are correct. Happiness should be relished. Whether it be a lifetime or a moment.”
“Exactly.”
“Will you be standing up for Angela when the day comes as John did for Elizabeth today?”
Ronon shrugs. “I believe Jack O’Neill may have that honor. If he can return to Atlantis.” Teyla smiles knowingly and Ronon quirks a brow. “What?”
“You wish to be her guardian in their binding. It is very touching.”
Ronon grimaces, lowering his cup to the table then runs a large hand down Teyla’s back and cups her ass. “I’ll show you touching.”
Teyla bats his hand away. “Not now. We must abide by Tradition.”
“It’s not my tradition.”
“Athosian,” she says sternly. “It was decided early on that this binding would be a mixture of Earth and Athosian traditions. Elizabeth agreed to my requirements and so, for tonight, I must as well.”
Ronon grumbled in frustration. As a young man, before the wraith came, bindings on Sateda always made him eager to feel pliant female flesh in his hands, to grind himself and his chosen partner into bliss as often as possible for several days following the union. And he’d never had a problem finding a willing partner.
However, since he and Teyla came to be, he has no interest in other women. She is his mate now, even if she refuses to have a binding ceremony of their own. She is his and he will continue to show her as much until the end of time. “Fine.” But patience has never been his style. He cups her ass again. This time she doesn’t push him away; she leans back into his hand.
The party has been in full swing for a couple hours and Jonathan keeps checking his watch. Elizabeth, who’s been bombarded with toasts and Athosian wine simply giggles in her slightly inebriated haze and kisses him again. Her lips are going to be bruised from all the kissing everyone keeps demanding but she loves it nonetheless. Jonathan’s an amazing kisser… such gorgeous full lips.
Someone – probably John – managed to smuggle in several bottles of actual champagne for the toast and even Rodney pulled off something profound, if rambling, when the time came. It brought tears to Elizabeth’s eyes… mostly from laughter however. Teyla, Laura and Angie all gave their blessings to the couple in short but sweet toasts. Carson, Ronon, even Stephen made special toasts, bolstering others to do the same.
Food and booze have been flowing quite nicely since the reception began, and though she’s not planning on getting sick, Elizabeth knows her limit is nye. Jonathan hands her another drink but she declines gracefully. He kisses her cheek. “It’s just water my love. I want you sober – at least mostly – when I get you alone.”
“Me too,” she says, gratefully sipping the cool liquid. It tastes like heaven. Over the rim of her glass, she spots Laura coming up to Angie and Teyla who are standing off to the side of the buffet with Dr. Zelenka and Rodney. Instantly the hair on the back of Elizabeth’s neck tingles with dread. It doesn’t even take the devious look in the three women’s eyes as they all turn to grin at Elizabeth to send the butterflies scurrying in her belly. “Uh oh.”
“What?” Jonathan asks, following Elizabeth’s gaze.
“I think…I’m in trouble.”
The three bridesmaids stroll over to the newlyweds, all smiles, and surround Elizabeth. Teyla and Angie each take an arm while Laura takes Elizabeth’s water and hands it to Jonathan. “We need to borrow your wife for a moment, Major.” Laura says sweetly.
“Okay,” Elizabeth hears him say, confusion in his voice.
“What’s going on?” she asks as they pull her toward the Stargate.
“Beth, don’t tell us you forgot,” Angie says with a little pout. “We practiced so hard.”
Elizabeth’s trying to shake the fuzziness from her brain, but for the life of her, she doesn’t have a clue what is happening. They turn Elizabeth so that she’s facing the crowded room. All eyes seem to be on the four women. Laura snaps her fingers and Major Lorne appears, also in dress blues, bringing in a chair, setting it about five feet from the women.
Elizabeth’s eyes widen as her memory returns. “Oh shit!”
Teyla nudges Elizabeth in the ribs. “Do not fret, Elizabeth. We have practiced a great deal.”
“It’ll be terrific,” Angie adds. She then snaps her fingers and motions to Chuck for something.
The PA turns on and Chuck makes his announcement. “We need Major Jonathan Sheppard to come forward and take a seat in front of his bride please.”
Elizabeth sees the suspicion in her husband’s eyes as he slowly makes his way toward the chair. “What’s going on?”
Elizabeth looks pleadingly at Angie. “Relax… you’re drunk enough right?” She seems to be searching Elizabeth’s gaze. “You are drunk enough for this aren’t you?” She then looks to Laura for confirmation. Laura turns Elizabeth toward her.
“Yeah, she’s blitzed enough. No inhibitions, remember?”
Elizabeth nods, not really sure she should but getting a feeling in her belly of anticipation. She looks at Jonathan, her beautiful Jonathan…
And then the music starts and Elizabeth suddenly remembers what she’s supposed to do. It’s eerie the calm that settles on her. She’s focused only on him. And she starts to sing:
Elizabeth strolls slowly up to Jonathan.
She runs her hands through his hair.
She rounds his chair, running her hand over his shoulders then trails a finger down his cheek.
Elizabeth slides into his lap.
She runs her hands down his chest.
Then as he starts to reach for her, she slips away and goes back to the three women who have yet to move from their original spot.
The cheers and cat-calls start almost immediately as her friends begin singing and dancing backup for her.
Elizabeth catches the grin on Jon’s face. He’s not embarrassed at all, he’s thrilled and she can’t help but smile and feel the pride in her heart. Angie choreographed their little dance routine, trying to make it as sexy as possible but keeping in tone with the era of the music.
Elizabeth moves in on him during the second verse; playing with him as much as possible, but not letting him get his hands on her too much.
Everyone’s clapping along to the music once the chorus starts up again and the backup singers dance to impress. The non-stop cheering for all four women is rocking the city, but Elizabeth only needs Jon grinning at her to make it to the end of the song and dance without feeling like a fool. Being drunk didn’t hurt, of course.
She ends in his lap one last time and he kisses her, deeply, passionately, leaving her more breathless than singing ever could have.
By the end of the song, Jonathan’s heart is pounding and he clings to Elizabeth, kissing her for all he’s worth. That was some show she put on for him and damn if he doesn’t want to take her here and now. She’s so incredibly sexy and never seems to realize it. He slides his hand up to her neck, holding her in place as they make-out like a couple of horny teenagers, oblivious to the crowd clapping around them. Her hand lands on his thigh, and the catch in her breath tells him she feels his rising dilemma.
Breaking the kiss, Elizabeth stares into his eyes and smiles shyly. “I say, sir,” she whispers over his lips. “You have a surprise for me too.”
“More than one,” he sighs. Just as he lunges in to kiss her again, she’s abruptly pulled from his grasp by two rather strong women he would not want to tangle with on any day. Teyla and Cadman pretty much haul Elizabeth to her unsteady feet and gently but firmly guide her away from him. She whimpers, glancing back at him and mouthing a sad “sorry” before disappearing beyond the hooting partiers.
Jonathan desperately wants to go after her, but his rather obvious situation is more than a bit uncomfortable, it’s increasingly becoming embarrassing. Basketball, hockey, sweaty boxing match, sweaty Eliza—NO! wrong avenue!
Angie’s hanging back, giving him a rather long perusal. Her sly grin is full of glee as she glances down at his lap where his hands rest then back up, catching his gaze and practically laughing out loud at him with her own eyes. There’s a glint in her eyes that chills him. He’s seen that look from her before and knows deep down that she hasn’t forgotten or forgiven all the pain he caused her weeks ago, even if it was unintentional. He’d been warned by both Ronon and Sheppard that Angie could hold a vicious grudge and had no qualms about exacting revenge, but he never thought she’d be capable of this. It’s so calculated. So…
Funny?! Face it, Sheppard. If it was any other man, you’d be laughing your ass off.
Angie shakes her head lightly and when she speaks there’s laughter in her voice. “Wow… this must really be torture for you.” Her grin turns slightly cold. “Hmm… how many hours ‘til midnight?” Smiling, she bites her bottom lip and cocks a brow at him then sways away, following her pals.
Damn, she’s good. He just knows the whole song and dance routine had to be Angie’s idea. No way Teyla or Elizabeth came up with it. He doesn’t know Cadman well enough, but doubts that sort of thing would have popped into her mind for a wedding. It had to be Angie. And she made sure that Elizabeth’s moves would do exactly what they were meant to do to him.
The song only ended moments ago and so far no one has really noticed that Jon’s not moving from his seat. He suddenly feels a hand patting his shoulder and turns to see Lorne’s understanding gaze. “How ‘bout a drink, Major?”
Jon nods nonchalantly, as if sitting there alone with his hands over a tent is the most natural thing in the world. “Sounds good, Major. Thanks.”
“No problem. Just take a few deep breaths, sir… and think of Antarctica.” Lorne moves on before Jon has to say anything in return, for which he’s grateful. Jon looks up; again catching Angie’s laughing eyes on him as she sips a drink. She tips her cup toward him and smiles innocently, but he knows she’s enjoying every moment of his torment. She turns to talk with McKay as Cadman joins them.
“This is war,” Jon grumbles. You could just try apologizing to the woman, his conscience tells him. But the devil in Jon shakes that off. Nope… getting even is so much more fun than détente.
After a few more moments, he manages to get up from his chair without embarrassing himself. Lorne returns with a drink in hand. “Huskin vodka,” Lorne says.
“Thanks,” Jon downs the drink and the burning trail down his throat it makes is enough to temper any residual heat in another area. “Good stuff.”
Lorne pats his shoulder again. “Just wait. It gets better.”
Jon just nods and grins as Lorne takes off toward the buffet table. Jon searches the crowd for Elizabeth, but she’s no where in sight. He heads over to Cadman and Angie, both converging on a rather inebriated Mckay, showing him a piece of paper. Rodney’s a funny drunk… though sometimes a bit too emotional from what Jon remembers of his McKay.
“Swiped it from her dresser,” Laura says to Angie as Jon approaches. Angie nods approvingly.
“Where’s Elizabeth?” Jon asks all three but only Cadman pays him any attention. Angie just smirks, she seems intent on keeping McKay’s attention the paper.
“Teyla’s hosing her down,” Cadman says with a grin. “You two nearly spontaneously combusted on that chair.” She winks. “But I’m sure you know that… sir.”
Jon tries to fight the blush that rises up his neck and fills his cheeks. “Which is exactly what you all wanted, I’m sure.” He glares at Angie, though she pays him no mind.
Cadman continues as if not hearing him. “Teyla’s not messing when it comes to the whole,” she waves a finger in the air, “Athosian binding at midnight tradition…” She checks her watch. “You’ve still got ‘bout two hours to go.” She tisks. “Man that’s tough, huh?”
“Watch it, lieutenant, sounds like your playing with insubordination.”
Cadman shakes her head. “Not military tonight. Colonel Caldwell gave me a ‘leave of bridesmaid-duty absence’ I’m technically a civilian for the evening.” She grins. “Got a fabo dress to prove it too.”
Jon can’t fathom the insane logistics of what Cadman just said. “Does Sheppard know about this?” He looks around. “Where is Sheppard?”
McKay perks up for an instant as if just realizing Jon is in front of him. “They took off fearing they were next on the song and dance hit list.”
“They?”
“Ronon and Sheppard.”
Angie gets Cadman’s attention again, and they huddle with McKay. As Jon leaves, he hears McKay sniffle: “This is beautiful. I think I might cry.”
“What does it say?” The women demand in unison.
Teyla simply smiles as Elizabeth fusses with her image in the mirror, blotting her face with a tissue. “This is so hard… I mean difficult. You have no idea!” Elizabeth complains. She is rather amusing because of her swaying stance and the slur of her words, but Teyla is certain that the usually stoic leader really is having a difficult time keeping her hands away from her bound mate. It is not unusual for those blessed by the Ancients to find eternal love are also bound by the pleasure of the flesh.
She knows that John and Angie faced many difficulties because of the ancient device that bound them together. Fate and fortune delivered them into the hands of love, for which Teyla will be eternally grateful. To this day, they are inseparable, unable to control their longings for each other, their need to touch one another, even if it is only for the briefest moment. Teyla has seen the same energy between Elizabeth and the Major. It is as if firelight glows around and within them when they are near; individually it would burn them to cinders but together, they strike a balance, their passion tempered by love. Unfortunate tales passed down from her ancestors have told of such passion that burns uncontrollably, turning the deepest of love to ashes, leaving both mates bereft. Teyla prays this will not be the way for Earth’s Lantians.
“As I have said before, Elizabeth, remaining in control of your passion is the most important part of being bound mates. You must not give in to such longings before the Crest-time or the binding night of your ritual may be doomed to failure. It is for yours and Major Sheppard’s own welfare that you gave your word for this trial. I have overseen many Athosian bindings leave the women unblessed, passionless for the remainder of their unions because either they or their mates could not control such urges. You must be patient to be blessed by the Ancients… your ultimate pleasure does depend on it.
“You are a strong, powerful woman, Elizabeth. A leader, a warrior – though you fight with your mind and not your hand. This test of your will, your strength will only make both of you stronger in the end. Believe in the words of my people. You will be one with Jonathan Sheppard soon enough. A time of coming together you shall never forget.”
Elizabeth hiccups and Teyla sees tears in the strong leader’s eyes. “That is truly beautiful, Teyla.” She dabs at her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Teyla links her arm with Elizabeth’s and pulls her from the bathroom. She guides her to the bed and encourages her to sit. “Deep breaths. Then we return to the celebration and you to your bound mate.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth sighs breathlessly. “I have to see Jon.”
Teyla rubs her back. It is too soon to return just yet. Elizabeth needs some time to quench the fire burning through her. Perhaps some cool water would benefit. As she returns to the bathroom to draw some water, she notices something amiss: the gift of words she gave to Elizabeth is not in sight on the dresser. She is sure the paper was there mere minutes ago… when Laura had helped her bring Elizabeth into the room.
Jon finds Ronon and Sheppard in the gym. Both have stripped down from their finer duds to the basics of pants; Ronon’s shirtless and Sheppard’s in his T-shirt, his dress shirt, tie and blazer neatly draped over a plastic, half-man dummy in the corner. Both are barefoot and twirling bantos sticks, though as they lunge and strike in battle, they stay about ten feet away from each other, not once connecting a hit. “You guys realize you look ridiculous, right?” Jon says as he leans against the open door, crossing his arms.
Ronon swings his sticks, stopping a strike by an unseen opponent since Sheppard is on the other side of the room. “Sheppard is afraid of being too damaged to ravage my sister later.”
“Am not…” Sheppard huffs parrying with his own invisible foe. “Just don’t want to get too tired out is all.”
“So what are you two doing here then?”
Ronon mutters something about too many people and Sheppard smirks. “He’s got a phobia of social gatherings.”
Jon raises his chin towards his double. “What’s your excuse?”
Sheppard shrugs a shoulder before re-engaging in air-battle. “His phobia’s contagious.”
“Uh huh,” Jon said. “You thought you were next.”
“Terrified of it, in fact.” He smiles sheepishly. “And given Angie’s and my history… wild horses wouldn’t be able to keep us from giving everybody a real good show.”
Ronon swirls his sticks around his body so fast and furious they seemingly disappear into the space around him. “And why have you abandoned your mate during the binding celebration?”
Jon shrugs, realizing instantly it’s the same way Sheppard just did and shakes off the weird feeling that invokes. “Presently, she’s surrounded by a hundred happy people, she won’t even notice I’m missing.”
Sheppard grunts something under his breath that makes Ronon chuckle. They both look at Jon with sly, speculative glances.
“What?” Jon asks plaintively.
“You do realize what you just said, don’t you?” Sheppard asks.
Jon thinks about it and heat flushes up his cheeks. Crap walked right into that one. “What I meant to say –”
“Oh, we heard what you actually said, Major,” Sheppard laughs and Ronon’s deep chuckle echoes him.
“I’m probably safer in here anyway.” Jon waves a hand in the air, coming further inside the room. “Teyla got Elizabeth to promise to keep me at arms length until midnight tonight.”
Ronon nods. “This is Athosian tradition. Her people believe the ancestors will bless a binding couple only on the momentary bridge between the celebration and the first day of their union together. If you follow the tradition…” he stops twirling sticks and catches Jon’s gaze full on. “You must restrain yourself until precisely that moment. Midnight exactly.”
“As in…” Jon asks the leading question.
“Refrain from penetration –”
“Whoa—whoa-whoa-whoa!” Sheppard shouts, letting his sticks drop so he can cover his ears. “TMI, guy.” At Ronon’s raised brows, he adds: “Too much information! That is not something I need to know.”
Ronon’s sly grin grows. “Then you should speak with Angie prior to Teyla getting the same promise of tradition from her.” His gaze narrows. “You know as well as I, Angie will bide by her word once given.”
Sheppard suddenly looks stricken at the thought. “She wouldn’t.” He shakes his head. “She couldn’t. We can’t. It’s just not…” he trails off, licking his lips in thought. “Naw. There’s no way in hell she’d make that deal.” There’s a glint in Sheppard’s eyes, a happy memory or something that makes him very sure of his previous statement.
Jon picks up Sheppard’s bantos and begins twirling them. Sheppard’s watching him and there’s a strange twitch in his cheek. He shakes his head quickly and goes to the bench to sit. “Not that I want to continue with this subject, Major, but…” Sheppard rolls his eyes, obviously uncomfortable. “You know that deal we had… the one about you blocking certain… images and feelings from me…”
Jon starts his warm up with a few controlled strikes at the air. “Yeah.”
“You’re not doing the best job of it.”
Jon’s gaze snaps to Sheppard. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“What is this deal?” Ronon asks.
The two men wave him off in the same manner. “Never mind.” Then glance at each other. Jon knows Sheppard is feeling the same as he is. He simply knows himself. “This is too weird some times.”
“Understatement.”
“Perhaps as time passes, more of you’re differences will be revealed,” Ronon says rather insightfully, leaving the other two to stare at him open mouthed. Ronon stares right back at them. “Has your world never seen duplicate siblings before?”
They both shake their heads and say: “It’s not the same thing.”
Sheppard surges from the bench. “Man, it’s like living with an echo!”
“Tell me about it,” Jon hisses.
“Do I really have to?” The sarcastic tinge in Sheppard’s voice is so close to McKay’s that Jon has the urge to smack him upside the head. Sheppard stops suddenly and turns to Ronon. “What do you mean more of our differences?”
Ronon begins a series of moves he recently showed Jon called Teket ‘act, an old Satedan form of Martial Arts. “Have you not noticed you are not as identical as you appear?”
“You mean like me being a better fighter than him,” Jon says.
“What?” Sheppard steps forward. “Excuse me… and as in me – I mean you.”
“He is correct, Sheppard,” Ronon says. “The major has shown to be more adept at sparring than you. Even Teyla has said as much.”
Sheppard’s brows shoot up. “Teyla has?”
Jon just has to grin. Sheppard’s ego is on the line here. He should know… it’s his ego too.
“Perhaps he is not as ‘naturally lazy’ as you claim to be,” Ronon adds with a smirk.
“Oh, no. I am,” Jon offers only to get a glare from Sheppard which only makes his grin grow.
“No way he’s better than me. We’re the same person.”
“You have not been listening, Sheppard. You are no longer the same.” Ronon must see the defiance in Sheppard’s eyes because he abruptly stops his Teket ‘act and tosses his bantos sticks at the colonel. “Perhaps you need convincing of your differences.” He motions between the two. “Spar.”
“What?” They both say.
“Begin.”
Jon and Sheppard stare at each other for a moment then shrug in exactly the same manner. Jon grins while Sheppard glowers. This could be fun. Ever since he came to know that this universe was not his own, he’s felt out-of-place, second best. Hearing Ronon admit that he is the better fighter of the two of them is a huge ego boost. And it never hurts to take your older sib down a peg or two. Sheppard’s never been overly hostile with Jon, but he hasn’t been overly welcoming either. Insisting that Jon change his name… even making suggestions that made no sense in the world. Why would he ever call himself Peter Pan?
As if sensing each other’s move they strike at exactly the same time, sticks slamming into each other with the same amount of force – enough to break bones if the other hadn’t been ready. Okay, so maybe this won’t be as easy as I thought.
As the sounds of the party bleed through the glass walls, Angie reads over Laura’s shoulder as the lieutenant types away on Beth’s laptop in the leader’s office. “You don’t think it sounds too limericky?”
“Limericky?”
“It’s a word…”
“That you just made up,” Laura snorts.
“And your point is?” Angie taps the laptop screen. “You don’t think it’s too… over the teeth, pass the gums, hello stomach blah blah blah.”
Laura stops typing suddenly and spins on Angie. “Look here missy. We’ve got one chance at this. One shot at coming up with something remotely wisdomish to compete with that Athosian princess Goddess-of-wisdom-that-all-admire-and-most-want-to-bed downstairs. Which –” She starts tapping off her fingers. “a) we are so not in the same league as her b) between the two of us, our ancestral ‘history’ is pretty shotty and c) neither of us is a writer. The only thing we do have going for us is that we’re both too blitzed to really care. Right?” Laura returns to typing.
Angie’s aghast at Laura’s last line addition. “Are you trying to scare the hell out of her?”
“Only you’re terrified of that consequence Peterson.” Laura says pointing at the screen. “And we both know you’re whacked.”
Angie stares at her for a long moment. “Fine. Just let me add…” she leans in and types two words in the last line.
“Now who’s being scary?”
“Just to make it even. Okay.”
Laura grins. “And it still rhymes. We’re good to go.” She hits print and the piece of paper shoots out of the nearby ink-jet. “Oh… I’ve got another idea.” She bounces her brows at Angie. “We’ll get McKay to translate it into Ancient… just like Teyla’s.”
“Elizabeth reads Ancient.”
“But it’ll at least sound more profound and less limericky.”
Angie’s grin matches Laura’s and they giggle as they race sloppily out of the room, only to take more time going down the treacherous stairs. They stop at the bottom suddenly when Teyla emerges from the crowd, her eyes on them. “Whoops,” Angie gasps.
Laura tosses a look at her. “New plan… run.”
“Halt!” Teyla calls and the two women stop moving before they actually have a chance to take a second step. She’s on them instantly. “Where is it?”
Angie slides Laura a look before they both turn and face Teyla. She’s just as drunk as they are and there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “What have you done with it?” She says calmly, though she still isn’t in total control of those lips.
Laura, the epitome of innocence says: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She then grabs hold of Angie’s shoulders and propels her forward a couple inches. “But I bet she does.”
Angie gasps. “Traitor!”
“Survivor.” She taps the air with a stiff finger. “Big difference. Huge.”
Teyla merely shakes her head. “Come along. We need to finish the arrangements for the binding.”
Angie and Laura nod and follow the Goddess out. “Where’s Beth?”
Teyla motions to the dance floor. “I gave Major Lorne instructions to keep her occupied for the duration.”
Angie looks over the crowd still gathered and enjoying the celebration and low-and-behold there’s Lorne twirling Elizabeth around the dance floor. But poor Elizabeth can’t stop from looking around the room, trying to find her true love.
I wonder where he’s gone off to…
John’s back slams into the mat for the third time since the sparring started; heaving he glares up at his opponent, who’s breathing just as hard.
“As I said,” Ronon starts from his place near the wall. “The major is more proficient at sparring.”
“Must be the age difference,” Jonathan grins triumphantly as he offers John a hand up. “After all, you are my elder… now.”
“By a year,” John hisses, then takes the hand, grabs hold and sweeps his legs to the side, taking the major down hard, rolling him over and pinning both arms behind his back. “And as Indiana Jones once said: ‘It’s not the years… it’s the mileage.”
Jonathan struggles but can’t detach John from his back. He’s trapped and he growls in frustration.
“And Colonel Sheppard has become adept at fighting dirty,” Ronon adds with a laugh. “And therefore… surviving.”
John smirks at Ronon. That was fun. He’s been waiting to take the cocky major down a peg since the guy decided to no longer be all glowey and yet continued to try being all-knowing. If he had to relive and dissect one more adventure from last year, John was really going to blow his brains out… his other self’s brains, that is.
The last few weeks have been a real eye-opener for John; seeing himself from the outside as it is. If he’s completely honest – which isn’t always the easiest thing to do – he can see how hard Elizabeth must have had it that first year. He was overly zealous, cocky even though he tried to hide it and had one hell of a chip on his shoulder. The need to prove himself over and over again only made him make so many mistakes, take chances he never should have taken… Genii anyone? Of course, it’s so easy to judge your past self, when he’s standing right in front of you. Or in this case, trapped on the floor underneath you.
John wonders if he would have made the choice to ascend, only to realize the next instant that… uh yeah, obviously he did that already. This can totally screw with one’s brain, that’s for damn sure.
John hops up, releasing Jonathan and the younger man – yeah he does seem younger in many ways – jumps up himself only to spin on his opponent with harsh eyes. “You two planned that.”
“Planned?” John says. “No.” He smirks. “Enjoyed. Oh yeah.”
Ronon chuckles behind Jonathan. “If I understand McKay’s ramblings; at one time you were one person, the same person, and due to something called Chaos Theory, you became separated into two because of the…” he seems to be searching for the words.
“Multi-universe,” John offers. He remembers when they found old Elizabeth in that lab. She’d traveled back in time 10,000 years and in doing so, created a new universe full of new choices and new sets of the same people. He slides his gaze towards his twin and knows that Jonathan is reliving the same moment. They are linked and, whether fortunately or not, the mental connection doesn’t seem to be losing its hold on them.
“You’re gonna have to dig deep into that de-ascended brain of yours and figure out a way to stop that,” John groans. “I like my mind to myself, thank you very much. I don’t need another me,” he taps his head, “in here.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose. It must be a left-over thing. Besides. It’s not like you’re any better at restraining your… feelings about a certain somebody. I don’t need that kind of imagery either, you know.”
“Whatever you do, don’t let Angie know about that. She’ll go ballistic.”
“Not a word,” he says though his grin looks slightly evil. A second later he points at John. “Or to Elizabeth. She’s under the impression it’s been working.” He shrugs. “Then again, so was I.”
John rubs his neck. “Yeah, well… it’s not a topic to bring up in the mess hall, ya know.”
“Right.”
Ronon steps forward, crossing his arms. “Have you noticed that you both have chosen females that are remarkably similar in many aspects?”
Jonathan and John wave dismissively. “That’s not…” They look at each other. “True.” Shaking heads again, they look back at Ronon.
“Though you once were the same, you are now different. It seems to me that if you work on seeing those differences…”
A light seems to blink on behind Jonathan’s eyes and he starts to nod. “It might let us break the link. We have to start thinking as individuals again.” He looks at John. “And like it or not. I mean ‘we’ not just me.”
“Well… there’s the biggie,” John motions at Jonathan. “The whole ascension thing. Somewhere in that brain of yours is actual knowledge I don’t have… and never will.” He narrows his eyes. “But that doesn’t make you smarter than me.”
“Wasn’t even thinking it.”
“Yeah you were.” He waves a hand. “And it’s not like you have actual access to that knowledge any more than Dr. Jackson, so… it’s moot.”
“True,” Jonathan concedes.
“Still… must make you… I mean, us – back then anyway – a pretty decent fellow, considering the need to be pure of spirit and all.”
“Not too pure, thank God.” Jonathan adds with a friendly grin that John matches.
“There you are,” Angie purrs as she leans against the doorframe, all sultry and seductive. All three men immediately give her their full attention; it’s just the way of the world when a beautiful woman comes into view.
Slowly, she slinks inside, her hips swaying as she wanders over to John. She hooks a finger under his chin. “Thought I was the one who was supposed to get you all sweaty tonight.”
John swallows. His heart thumps almost painfully in his chest at the slight touch of her skin against his. That same finger traces a path down his neck and hooks into the collar of his T-shirt. “Come with me, soldier,” she says huskily.
“Yes ma’am.”
Behind him, Jonathan fake coughs: “Sowhipped,” and both John and Angie halt. John’s about to lay into the guy, but he can’t come up with anything biting enough to satisfy. Luckily he has Angie on his team.
“Yo, Clone.” Jonathan visibly cringes at the nickname. “When we brought back your wife and you were nowhere in sight, she found another mightily attractive Major to dance with.”
“Like hell!” Ronon and John laugh as Jonathan races from the room, only stopping long enough to grab his tux jacket and tie from a post near the door.
“And you, big guy,” Angie says to Ronon. “I got Teyla all liquored up just for you… and here you are? With other men?” Ronon grouses about parties and too-many people but Angie doesn’t let up. “So, you’re gonna leave Teyla to struggle with all those buttons on her dress, all alone?”
Ronon grunts and heads out. John turns to Angie with a smile. “Evil but brilliant.”
“I have my moments.” She kisses him. “Oh… and you, my love, need a shower.”
“Join me?”
“Hmmm… we’ll see.”
Jonathan races into the gateroom just as Elizabeth spins into Lorne, giggling, her face bright with joy. She’s having a hell of a lot of fun… without him. And it’s his own damn fault.
He checks his watch. It took him little over thirty minutes to get back from the gym and he knows he’s disheveled. His tie is most certainly crooked and his newly tucked in tuxedo shirt wrinkled from the tussle with Sheppard. Jon runs both hands through his hair, letting a barrage of curse words flow freely within the confines of his brain. It’s only when Elizabeth suddenly appears in front of him, her eyes shining with love and desire that he relaxes a bit.
Elizabeth sighs heavily; smiling at him with so much understanding it makes his heart lurch. “Got side-tracked from all the excitement, I see.”
Jon pulls an apologetic face and shrugs a shoulder. “You were gone… I got lonely.”
Elizabeth laughs, throwing her head back, then grabs his face with both hands and hauls him in for a sweltering kiss that melts his bones. She tastes so good. He can’t deny his arms wanting to wrap around her and crush her body to his. One hand sinks into her lush dark curls and the other presses her lower body against him. Distantly he can hear whoops and hollers from those observing, but he doesn’t care. The only sound that means anything to him is Elizabeth’s slight whimper of pleasure.
Jon breaks the kiss slowly, only to nip at her swollen lips as he asks: “Can we please get out of here now? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”
Elizabeth’s green eyes widen. Her fingers play with his hair. “I have been thinking about what Teyla told me of the tradition. We still have nearly an hour ‘til midnight…” Jon groans but she continues with a smile. “Doesn’t mean we can’t at least get started.” Her grin is devilish and dazzling.
He raises a brow. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“I think the question is… can you?”
Jon pulls back from her only to wave at the crowd still gathered for the reception. “’Night all. Thanks for the party… but we’re so outta here.”
Several more catcalls and whoops echo with whistles and the loudest applause Jon has ever heard as he pulls Elizabeth towards the nearest transporter.
John lathers his body, taking his time, waiting for Angie to join him. He wanted to slip that dress from her body and use his hands and mouth to caress her skin as the crimson silk fell away, but she refused to let him touch her. She declared him too stinky for the moment and pointed toward the bathroom.
“Shower now.” Then she smiled wickedly. “My present for you soon enough.”
“What present?” John had tried to pull her against him but she resisted, pushing against his chest, propelling him again toward the bathroom.
“You’ll see.”
And so he’s waiting, letting the water sluice over his heated skin. Maybe a cold shower is in order. He’s already getting hard, but the reason for the damn thing bobbing to life is still in the other room, waiting to surprise him with something.
And Angie’s always full of surprises.
John emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Angie’s sitting on the bed. Her eyes devour him with desire, that overwhelming hunger he never gets tired of seeing glimmering with extra heat as she takes in his half-naked form. She slips off the bed and crosses to him.
John, however, is shocked to find his wanton sex kitten in a T-shirt and sweat pants, her hair in a pony tail on top her head, ready for bed. “You didn’t join me,” he pouts. His erection is starting to throb. She can’t seriously be considering sleeping at this point… can she?
“I had other things to do,” she says, taking his hand and guiding him back to the bed. John sits and his towel falls open. Angie’s eyes go directly to his engulfed erection. “Hmm. You’re making this very difficult,” she sighs, her eyes rising to meet his.
“What?” John asks, pulling her close and latching his mouth onto her neck, just above the deep V of her T-shirt.
“Uh…” her hands are on his shoulders, digging in as he continues the tease of her soft skin against his lips. “Ummm.” Angie shakes her head and pushes away from him slightly. Her pupils are dilated with want. The throb of her pulse in her neck tells him of her need. He’s ready to just throw her on the bed and take her. “I have a present for you… I’ve been holding on to it for a while now, since the Daedalus got back.”
John peeks down her shirt. “I see two presents I already know how to unwrap.”
She takes a deep breath. He knows he’s got her just as hot as she’s got him. She stutters cutely. “I..it’s..y..your engagement gift,” she gets out finally on a heavy exhale.
This gets his attention. “Really?”
Angie shrugs shyly. “It’s not as beautiful as my ring… but I got some input from a reliable source that you’d like it anyway.”
“Hmm… I’m intrigued. Is it…” he pulls back the waistband of her sweatpants. “Edible?”
“Nope. Watchable.”
“Watchable…?” His eyes widen with excitement. “Strip tease?”
She smacks his bare shoulder lightly. “Gutterbrain. Not everything about us has to be about sex.”
“Strip tease is an art form… has nothing to do with sex,” John says seriously, though at this point he’d say just about anything to get her to drop trow and jump on him.
“Right.” She turns away from him and grabs a small remote from her desk and points it at the rather large view screen McKay installed in her room.
Angie and McKay have a strange, almost symbiotic, relationship. She argues with him about his theories like nobodies business, which not only makes John chuckle but he actually thinks Rodney likes it. Almost like he’s using Angie as a sounding board – only one that talks, okay, yells back – and bouncing ideas around so that he can hash out problem spots before going to his team. She makes McKay work for every point and never backs down no matter how many names he calls her – not that Angie isn’t just as talented in the nasty names department. But as snarky as the two get with each other, there is something between them… possibly even a grudging friendship, though neither would admit to such a thing. They each believe they are taking advantage of the other. Hence the Atlantis version of the big screen TV hanging on the wall. John remembers Rodney saying it was a bribe while Angie said she’d managed to con it out of McKay. Either way, it works for them.
John stares blankly at the screen then glances at Angie with hope in his eyes. “Porn?”
Angie sighs with exasperation, shaking her head and trying not to grin. “According to my source… better.”
John’s skeptical. “Better than porn?”
She aims the remote and presses a button. “I don’t know anything about it… so you can try to explain it to me again if you want.” She hands him the remote as she urges him to stretch out on the bed then she slides in beside him.
John’s biggest urge is to toss aside the remote and take her fast and hard, gift be damned. But this obviously means a lot to her so he’s going to find out what exactly this gift is before he gives in to his baser instincts.
Angie rests her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder. John’s skin warms at her touch as usual, but his mind is already occupied with what’s on the big screen. He’s dumbfounded. “How…?”
“Jack. I told him how much you like football… he offered to record them.”
“How many games?”
“The whole season. Both College and Pro. Sam put them on separate DVD’s.”
John’s astounded. “And… you’ll stay with me?”
She giggles, looking up at him again. “It’s my room goofball.” Then she kisses him lightly on the cheek. “You mind if I just snuggle while you watch?”
John can’t believe his luck… or this woman. “You want to snuggle?”
She kisses him again, on the neck this time. “Only with you… if you want.”
“What I want....” He tosses the remote aside, curls himself over her, kissing her thoroughly. “Isn’t pre-recorded.”
“What about the games?” she asks breathlessly.
John smiles down at her. “Later. Right now, I’m looking for some live action.” His lips take hers again as he lifts up her T-shirt, his whole body aching with the need to touch her, be touched by her. He pulls the shirt free and tosses it to the floor even as he bends to capture a taught nipple between his hungry lips.
“You’re gonna get all sweaty again,” she moans, arching her back.
John releases one breast and grins at her before moving to the other. “That’s the plan.”
Ronon’s on his back, his fingertips digging into the soft but taught flesh. Her legs are so muscled, so strong, and yet her silken, coppery skin begs him to squeeze it. He skims his rough hands over her thighs, around to cup her buttocks. She’s even tight there.
Teyla sits astride him, rocking slowly, grinding her hips into his with a maddeningly sensual pace, her hands grasp and caress her breasts, teasing him with the sight of her tugging at her large brown nipples. She hadn’t even bothered to take the dress off before pushing herself fully onto him; only bunching up the skirt to settle around her waist so she could take him inside and ride him mercilessly. Then she slowly unbuttoned the dress bodice and slipped it down about her waste as well. He tried to get his hands on her, but she pushed him back down. She wanted him… her way. And Ronon’s only problem with Teyla’s way was that she managed to drag out the pleasure until it came to a fevered peak, until there was nothing left of him after the final crest. She would work him for hours in as many different positions as she could manage, yet she refused to let him take control.
Ronon has a problem needing to be in control, Teyla’s told him numerous times, mostly while in bed. She’s also told him that she plans on showing him how to lose that need… how to just flow with the pleasure and allow it to happen. So far, all he’s been learning is that he needs this woman under him so that he can shove himself as deeply inside of her as he can get. He wants her whimpering with pleasure as he drives his length between her legs, leaving her tight muscles weak and trembling with completion.
Her inner muscles flex and pulse around him, making him grind his teeth and growl, it feels so good it’s almost painful. But it’s not enough. He needs her to move faster, he needs to thrust, but her hard thighs actually manage to keep him in place on the bed. He’s at her mercy, but she’s not showing any. “Teyla… Please!”
“Easy,” she mutters, still rocking. One of her hands slides down her body, rubs her stomach then disappears under the bunched dress. A moment later she releases a harsh breath and a noisy, high pitched gasp.
“No more easy!” Ronon finally uses his superior strength to dislodge her. She mutters an unsatisfied cry as he flips her over onto her stomach, grabs her hips and drags her to the edge of the bed so that her feet are on the floor. A moment later her ass is in the air and he’s back inside her with a vicious thrust. And then another. And another.
Teyla’s grasping the bedding in her fists, her upper body flat on the bed as Ronon holds her high enough for him to enter. She’s moaning incoherently, her body responding to his urgency with her own. She plants her knees on the edge of the mattress and begins pushing back into him, crying out as she does so, and making him holler and growl with each thrust.
Reaching around, Ronon finds the spot she wanted to stimulate earlier, the sight of which nearly broke him. He’s gentle there unlike his actions as he slams into her as hard as possible. Her body shakes with the reverberations from the power of his fucking. But his fingers find her sensitive area and caress her with tenderness. He knows how she likes it and uses that to his advantage. She’s going to be angry that he took control yet again, so the only way to appease her before hand is to give her the best climax he can coax out of her body.
Soon she’s crying out in that throaty, guttural way that makes him think of her as a sleek, wild animal he’s trying to tame, but knows he never will. She refuses to show any weakness, even to him. Her desire to make him lose control makes him laugh, sometimes bitterly, because it is she who refuses to step aside from her heritage, her inheritance of leadership. Teyla, the calm, the forthright, the wise could never simply let go and need release the way he does. Teyla never needs anything. She never asks for more than anyone is willing to give.
Well, tonight, she’s going to take what Ronon’s giving her and then some. And he’s going to make sure she loves it so much, she’ll beg for more. As the thought enters his mind, he captures her nub between his finger and thumb and gives it a light squeeze.
Teyla sputters: “Guhhh!” And her body shakes then goes limp in his hands as she pulses around him, climaxing with such intensity her inner muscles seize him; his knees buckle and he falls on top of her on the bed, spilling himself inside her forcefully; his body trembles with the release.
Moments later, reality returns to Ronon in a rush and he rolls off of Teyla. He turns her over at the same time so that they are lying face to face. Her eyes are closed and she’s panting hard, just like him. “Are you alright?” He asks, gently brushing strands of sweat soaked hair from her face.
“No,” she shivers.
He rubs a hand up and down her arm. “Did I hurt you?”
She smiles, her eyes opening and glistening in the candlelight. “No.” She traces a finger down his cheek and tugs on his beard. “But now I must find another way to subdue you.”
Ronon stares into her eyes, wanting so much to tell her that she would never be able to do such a thing to him. His desire for her is too strong. His need to possess his mate is part of who he is. This struggle she initiates between them is unnecessary. He is devoted to her. But she needs to understand that no other man will have her as long as he’s alive. She belongs to him alone. Up until now, he’s been playing along with her ‘way’. No more. “Teyla.”
“Ronon?”
“Subduing me is not the answer. You must accept something different.”
Her eyes narrow, one brow rises. “What do you mean? Accept what?”
“Me. As I am.”
She swallows, blinking several times. It’s as if she’s about to say something but thinks better of it. Ronon rolls so that he’s on top of her again: his chest to hers, but he braces his weight on his arms. The confusion in her gaze is evident. Ronon knees her legs apart. He’s already semi-hard again and slips inside her easily. “This is me… as I am with you.” He kisses her, his mouth plundering hers, a man dying of hunger finally finding a buffet. He searches and finds her hands, pulling them above her head, linking his fingers through hers, then levering himself up to let her breathe.
“Ronon… I don’t understand…”
“That is the problem.” The feel of her firm breasts against his chest, her flat belly against his and the warmth of her sex surrounding him has brought him back to full erection while already inside her. “You are mine, Teyla.” He holds her hands hostage as he starts to move. “Only mine.” He lowers his head to capture a nipple, sucking on it mercilessly until she cries out. “Your body belongs to me. No one else will have you.” He gives the other breast the same treatment and she arches up, a gasp escaping her throat. “And I will pleasure you as I please. Because you are mine.” He pulls out and thrusts into her deeply, getting a strangled sob in response. “And you will pleasure me because I am yours.” He thrust again, getting the same cry.
Releasing her hands, Ronon grips her thighs, pulling her legs up and apart. He catches her behind the knees, latching her legs over his shoulders and he picks up speed. He’s riding her this time, pushing deep, filling her, taking her with as much power as any man can take his mate.
Teyla’s caressing her breasts again, pinching her nipples, cooing and licking her lips as he works in her. The sight is intoxicating, he can feel his next release coming sharp and powerful, but he will not let it happen until she is ready. He lies down on top of her again, pressing his body against her pleasure zone. With his lips he plucks a nipple from between her fingers and sucks. His other hand joins hers, grasping and squeezing the other mound. The noises coming from her are different than before. After a moment, he realizes she’s actually talking, saying the same thing over and over with each thrust of his body into hers.
It’s barely a whisper, but he finally catches it: “IloveRononIloveRonon” over and over again.
He can’t control the reaction those words trigger. His body spasms, reeling him into another mind blowing climax.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he finally comes back to himself, but Teyla’s arms are wrapped tightly around him and she’s trembling, climaxing so hard her whole body shakes with it.
“Do you understand now?” he whispers against her ear.
“I believe so,” she whispers back. “However, I may need more convincing to be certain.”
Ronon chuckles, raising himself up to look at her. There are tears in her eyes, but joy on her face. “Conviction is very important.” He kisses her lightly on the lips.
Elizabeth palms open her door and gasps at the sight before her. Jonathan’s nibbling her neck from behind and he stops suddenly. She feels him looking up and the catch in his breath. Elizabeth finally realizes what being friends with three rather forceful women has wrought.
It’s like a fairytale. Or a romance novel. No, she thinks again. It’s more like a combination of them. The normally functional, standard studio bedroom has been transformed into the Atlantis version of a honeymoon suite. The likes of which might only be seen in a Genie’s bottle… or a rather gauche motel room. Though, Elizabeth doesn’t find a single crimson silk drape or satin pillow the least bit tacky. The room is spectacular. The numerous scented candles glisten within the confines, dancing on their wicks against the light breeze opening the door caused.
Red and white rose petals – she can only assume they are genuine – line a path from the door straight toward a pile of giant lush pillows strewn on the floor amid what look like silk sheets. The bed – being of standard Atlantis size and really only good for one person – has been pushed lengthwise against the wall to permit more room on the floor. Apparently the pillows are to be their love nest.
And Elizabeth just knows in her heart that it will be very comfortable. There’s no way those three would let it be any other way. Elizabeth tries to take a step inside, but Jonathan’s hand on her arm stops her. “They’ve gone to a hell of a lot of trouble, Elizabeth.”
She nearly chokes on the tears of happiness. “Yes, they have.”
“So let’s do this right.” Without any notice, Jonathan catches her under the knees and picks her up, carrying her over the threshold only to gently kneel onto the pillows so that he can lay her down. He’s kissing her even before the door closes behind them.
Elizabeth wraps her arms around him, pulling him in deeper for the kiss. She sinks into the pillows and the words: cloud-nine, tickle her brain and she giggles.
Jonathan breaks the kiss and narrows his eyes at her, feigning hurt. “My kisses make you laugh?”
“No,” she giggles again. “It’s the girls–”
His brows pop up. “My kisses make you think of your girlfriends?” His eyes narrow again. “What were you four doing all this time, hmmm?” He grins wickedly. “And did you happen to have a video camera on hand?”
She tosses her head back, laughing loud and hard. Jonathan’s mouth latches onto her throat and the laugh immediately turns into a moan. Her hands are in his hair; his hands roam down the dress to the hem, then under. He skims her legs with light fingertips, pushing the gown up and up.
“Mmm… you wicked woman,” he groans.
Elizabeth opens her eyes. He’s staring down at where his index finger is grazing her stomach just above the waistline of her red lace panties. Elizabeth was amazed when she chose the underwear that it didn’t show through the pale dress (or else she’d have gone with something different, of course) and his reaction is her reward. The hunger in his eyes, the desire in his fingertips as he slowly caresses her skin, dipping below the elastic lace, is sending her into frenzy. “Jonathan!”
He slips his hand under the lace and cups her mound, gently running his thumb over her clit. Elizabeth sucks in a breath between her teeth. His thumb stops moving. “Thinking of the girls now?” He says in that low, guttural voice she loves so much.
“God no! Don’t stop!”
Jonathan chuckles. “But, Elizabeth. It’s only 22:30… we have almost–”
Elizabeth sits up and grasps his face. “That’s an order soldier.”
Jonathan sinks a finger inside her and she falls back against the pillows limply. “Yes ma’am.” With his free hand, he pushes her dress further up her body, following the hem with his lips and tongue. The finger inside her swivels and tickles before pulling out then plunging back in.
Elizabeth arches against him. “Mmm, yes…more.”
Jonathan continues his ministrations until he hits a road block. The dress refuses to move any higher. “Elizabeth… I want you naked now.”
“Yes!” She’s so close. Just a little more… another finger maybe. But suddenly she’s barren. Jonathan pulls his hand from her, leaving her boiling over and yet so cold. She opens her eyes and, he’s staring at her.
“I don’t want to ruin that beautiful gown,” he says in a harsh voice. “But if you don’t help me get it off of you this minute… I’m going to do something we will regret later.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widen in understanding. “The buttons are in back,” she sighs and rolls onto her side. She can feel his fingers working the fasteners. She giggles lightly when he curses.
“Who the hell made these anyway? It’s like trying to pick a lock for god’s sake!”
She’s about to respond when her gaze falls on the little tray table set up to the side of the pillows. There’s a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket and some chocolate covered strawberries that make her mouth water even as she wonders how the hell they managed that feat. But it’s the little slips of paper stuck to the tray that keep her attention. Her eyes are still a bit glazed and she blinks a couple of times.
Both notes are in Ancient. The one from Teyla she recognizes instantly. It’s the other one that makes her gasp and then laugh out loud again. She feels Jonathan pull away and hears him slap his hands on his thighs.
“That’s it. I cannot function to my full potential on my wedding night if you insist on laughing at me.”
Elizabeth rolls toward him, smiling at his petulant frown. “It’s not you, honey.”
He glowers at her. “The girls again?” He waves a hand around. “I understand they did all this for us. Do you really think they did it to get you all distracted from having a lot of hot monkey sex with your new husband?”
Elizabeth sits up and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She can feel her dress is opened at the back, enough so that it slips down her arms a little. She kisses him lightly on that beautiful pout then softly recites Teyla’s words of wisdom in their native form of Ancient.
Jonathan’s eyes close and a low rumble comes from his chest. “That’s amazing.”
“You don’t even know what I said.”
His eyes snap open and he grins at her. “I don’t give a damn what you said… you sound hot! Say something else.”
She recites Angie and Laura’s little limerick in Ancient and Jon groans before pulling her flush to his body and taking her mouth with his. He guides her with his hand in her hair. Then she’s back on the pillows and he’s on top of her, grinding his hips against her lace panties. Her drenched lace panties. God she wants him so bad!
His hands are on her again, pushing the dress up and up until he breaks the kiss long enough to get it over her head. Then her breasts are bared to him and he’s ravenous with them.
Elizabeth opens her legs and wraps them around his, pulling him tight against her overheated core. “Get inside me now!”
Jonathan looks at his watch. Son-of-a-bitch, he actually looks at his watch then grins down at her wickedly. “Too soon.”
She growls. “This is payback isn’t it!”
Jon licks his lips before taking a nipple between them and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. He releases it, smirking at her. “Ain’t it a bitch?” Then he takes the opposite nipple and tortures her some more.
Well, then so am I. She reaches between them and starts in on his shirt. It’s her turn to fumble with the buttons so she simply pulls, letting them pop off. Jonathan grinds his hips into her again, and her brain goes a little fuzzy. There’s a whimper she’s sure came from her. With a little help from him, she gets the shirt off then goes after his T-shirt. If he’s intent on driving her insane with need, he’s got another thing coming...
The T-shirt’s gone and Elizabeth dances her hands over his gorgeous chest, each one finding a taught nipple of their own to tease. Jonathan gasps against her breast. Then he’s moving up her body to claim her mouth again.
“You’re still over-dressed,” she sighs.
Finally he agrees and sits up enough to undo his belt and pants. He whips the belt free, snaps the button, making a grand show of revealing himself for her. He tugs on the zipper and stops. Elizabeth’s eyes catch his and there’s tension in his face. Annoyance and frustration. “Jonathan?”
His mouth sets in a tight line. His fingers still gripping the zipper. He tugs hard, but nothing happens. His eyes narrow on her. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
Elizabeth bites her bottom lip and shakes her head to keep from giggling. “What’s wrong,” she asks, though it’s obvious at this point.
“God or the Ancients or someone up there hates me… that’s what’s wrong!” Suddenly he’s on his feet, stomping over to the desk against the far wall, pulling open drawers hard enough to do some damage.
“What are you doing?”
“Where the hell do you keep your scissors?”
“Bottom left.”
Jon pulls the rather large shears from the drawer and starts cutting his tuxedo pants. Elizabeth raises a finger that catches his gaze and he stops. “What?”
“You better be mighty careful with those, Major. I went to a lot of trouble to get that part of you legal and binding and I’m not about to lose it because your impatient.”
With a swift riiip Jonathan rends the pants apart and lets them drop. His erection is trapped under boxer shorts, but it’s already impressive. Always has been. Tossing the shears back into the drawer, he uses both hands to motion to his arousal. “So this is what you married me for, huh?”
“Well, that and your gorgeous pecks and washboard abs. I’m not really an ass woman.” She shrugs. “Sorry.”
Jonathan glides back over and kneels at her side. “I’m not much of an ass man. I only married you for your hot language skills and great rack.”
Elizabeth cups both her breasts and smiles at him. “This great rack?”
With another growl, Jonathan lunges and he’s on top of her again, cupping and squeezing her breasts as he plunders her mouth. He settles between her legs again, grinding into her more than before and she whimpers with want. He kisses his way down her body, reaching the panties with his mouth this time and pulling them down her legs with his teeth. Elizabeth shudders, nearly coming just from that.
He parts her legs, draping them over his shoulders and devours her with his mouth. His fingers work inside her as he suckles on her clit, bringing her so close… so damn close! Then he stops.
“Jonathan!” she howls in frustration.
When he slides up her body again, his boxers are gone and he rubs his hard length against her. Elizabeth sucks in a harsh breath. “I’m begging you.”
He kisses her cheek, her throat then moves over to nibble her ear. “Begging me?”
Elizabeth grabs him by the hair and pulls him back so she can see his beautiful eyes. “If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to get violent.”
“Really?” there’s humor in his eyes. “Violent, huh?” He smirks. “That could be interesting… later.” He reaches between them and guides himself to her. “Good thing it’s midnight,” he says softly before entering her with a swift thrust making them both cry out.
Jonathan bombards her with his power. It only takes three powerful thrusts to make her climax, but he’s holding back, working in her again and again, harder than ever before. He wraps his arms under her, gripping her shoulders from underneath and pulling her down as he pounds upward. He’s so deep, so full, Elizabeth sobs from the intensity. She’s missed him for so long. She can’t get enough of him.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she digs her heels into his thighs, pushing him to go faster. Oh God, he feels so good! “Yes, baby, yes-yes-yes!” The second orgasm rips through her like lightning, zapping all her strength, even her voice is gone.
Jonathan comes a moment later as she clutches him tight within her. He collapses on top of her, his face turned into her neck where she feels a lingering kiss. “You’re so beautiful,” he says drowsily.
He rolls over, pulling her with him so that she’s draped over his side. Elizabeth nuzzles his neck as she caresses his damp chest. “Don’t ever stop loving me, Jon. Promise me.”
He opens his eyes and she sees so much emotion in them it makes a sob catch in her throat. “I’ve already loved you for an eternity, Elizabeth. I’m not going to stop now.” He kisses her forehead. “That’s a promise.”
Elizabeth smiles as she rests her cheek on his chest. Before closing her eyes, she catches a glimpse of the ‘words of wisdom’ from her friends and she smiles as she re-reads them:
As Elizabeth’s body buzzes with pleasure and Jonathan’s seed still inside her, she clings to him, pondering the possibility of that last line. She smiles as blissful sleep claims her.
Their food forgotten, Elizabeth and Jon lay on the bed in their expensive Las Vegas suite, her fingers dancing over his damp chest hair, his gently tracing up and down her spine, their legs intertwined.
John links his free hand with hers, lifting both up to examine them. Elizabeth watches him as he watches their hands. “Perfect fit,” she says, collapsing her fingers around the back of his hand. Jon does the same, squeezing her hand in return before bringing it to his lips.
“You are so beautiful. You know that?”
Elizabeth can feel the blush rising in her cheeks. She kisses his chest before looking up to catch his gaze. “You make me feel beautiful.” They kiss tenderly, lingering, then she sighs and rests her cheek against his heartbeat again. “I love you so much.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
Resting her chin on his chest, she raises her eyes to meet his again. “Are you really going to challenge me on that?”
Jon chuckles. “No… I’m sure we’re even in that department.”
“Bet your hot, tight ass we are.”
“Although…” he starts with a playful lilt in his voice. “I did give up eternity for you.”
She smiles. “You did.”
The playfulness turns serious instantly as he locks his gaze with hers. “And I’d do it again in an instant. I’d do anything for you, Elizabeth. You know that right?”
“I do,” she says, holding back tears of joy. “And I feel the same.”
He brushes a gentle finger over her cheek. “You’ll never have to give up Atlantis for me, baby.”
“But –”
His finger over her lips cuts her off. “Never happen. It’s our home no matter what. Together we’ll make it stronger than ever.”
She nips his finger before he pulls it away. “Together.” Jon lifts her up and brings her mouth to his, kissing her soundly. Elizabeth braces her arms on either side of him. After several more kisses, she sighs and simply gazes at him. His eyes mesmerize her. His lips make her hungry. And that sweet beat of his heart matches hers making a symphony of their love. “My beautiful husband.”
“My beautiful wife.”
“Please tell me we’ll always be like this.”
“Can’t do that, honey.”
“What?”
“You know that once people get married – following the honeymoon, of course – the sex is just…over.”
Elizabeth glides a hand under the bed sheet, fingers gingerly grazing his length. “You think so, huh?” Jon gasps as her fingers wrap around him. She tightens then she releases him and he moans. She grins, kissing his chest and working her way back up to his mouth. “Since we’re still on our honeymoon, I guess we better make the most of the time we have then.”
Just as Jon’s about to maneuver her under him, she rolls off the bed with a giggle and goes for her suitcase.
“What are you doing?”
“You didn’t think I showed you everything I bought when I went shopping with Sam, do you?”
Jon’s eyes widen even as they darken with lust. “What other surprises do you have Mrs. Sheppard?”
Grabbing her goods from the case, she hides her hands behind her back as she saunters slowly back toward the bed. “Do you trust me?”
Jon reaches for her. “With my life.” His hands settle on her hips as he tries to draw her back into bed. Elizabeth resists. She brings her hands forward, each holding a silk scarf. “Whoa… what’s this?” His gaze narrows playfully. “I thought our kink was closets and bathrooms.”
Elizabeth giggles. They do have a certain flair for those small enclosures. “EC wants to come out and play for a while.”
“Really?” He leans back, offering up one wrist at a time. “Well… EC gets what she wants when she wants… and since she wants me… well, who’m I to argue.”
Elizabeth carefully ties a scarf to each wrist before securing them to the headboard. Jon could get free at any time but she’s trusting him to let her be in control. He’s even given her newfound boldness a nice little nickname: Elizabeth The Conqueror. She likes it. She likes how it makes her feel knowing that she can do all kinds of wicked, sensual things to him and he’s letting go long enough to simply enjoy the ride.
It’s a wonderful give and take they have with their pleasure. Elizabeth loves letting Jon rule her body because she knows he’ll never hurt her; he’s always thinking about her pleasure before his…
THREE DAYS AGO, Sam pulled into the circular drive of the modest hotel a few miles away from the SGC. “Sure you don’t want to come up? Maybe hang out at the pool for a while?” Elizabeth asked. “I’m pretty sure the boys will be off having their own fun for some time.”
“As much as I’d love to… I’ve got too get back to work on that generator.”
“Didn’t we just have a long chat about you actually taking a full day off?”
Sam laughed. “I know. I know. But you’re one to talk, huh? Isn’t this the first real vacation you’ve had in, what, ten years?”
“Something like that.” Elizabeth reached for her bags full of purchases. Before opening the passenger door, she turned back to Sam. “Thanks again. I had a great time.”
“Me too.” Her smile grew. “You might want to take a nap before Jonathan gets back. I imagine the moment he sees your new outfits, he’ll go wild.”
Elizabeth remembered her own thrill at seeing her reflection in the dressing room mirror. Sexy lingerie has never been on the top of her list of essentials, but now… she did look really good, so the expense this time was well worth it. “I certainly hope so.”
Elizabeth popped open the door, but before she could get out, Sam handed her an envelope. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“What’s this?”
“A little gift from SG-1 and General O’Neill.”
Elizabeth opened the envelope, finding two plane tickets to Las Vegas and a ‘Honeymoon Holiday’ at the Montecito Hotel and Casino. “Traveling the old fashioned way,” Elizabeth grinned, waving the plane tickets. “The Montecito. Isn’t that kind of pricey?”
“Naw… I know a guy who knows a guy,” Sam smiled.
“Six degrees of separation?”
“Something like that. Now shoo… you need to rest up before that hunk-of-a-husband returns to misuse you.”
Elizabeth fanned herself with the envelope. “Don’t I know it.” She waved goodbye to Sam then headed into the hotel lobby. Few people were in the lounge, mostly employees. She stopped at the desk, hoping for a message from Jon. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one. A little disappointed that he hadn’t called, she shrugged it off as she headed toward the elevator. She should have known what would happen when three flyboys got together; not to forget that Jon and Daniel had their own unique connection with immortality to discuss.
Once in their room, Elizabeth kicked off her shoes and sank into the carpet; exhaustion suddenly overwhelming her from head to toe. She dropped her bags on the chair near the window that overlooked the mountains. She’d forgotten how much shopping took out of her. A nap didn’t sound like such a bad idea after all.
Stripping down to her bra and panties, she crawled on top of the silky comforter and within moments, she was fast asleep.
Elizabeth rolled over and opened her eyes. She yawned, stretching and glanced at the clock. What seemed like two minutes was actually two hours. That was some nap. She looked around: no Jon. Damn. She’d been having the most sensual dream about him. His voice was in her ear, whispering in that heated delivery she never got tired of hearing.
Restless and feeling a little grungy, she slid off the bed and headed to the bathroom for a relaxing shower. She could lounge in the bath, but that’s something she was hoping to do with Jonathan later. It’s a rather large tub, with jets and stuff. Her muscles were still a little sore from all that shopping so the pulsing heat from the shower would help work out the kinks for now.
She’d forgotten how tiring a trip to the mall could be, though happy with the purchases she made. They didn’t stick only to Victoria’s Secret; Elizabeth needed essentials for daily life. Her supply of decent socks alone was pretty dismal. It was good, getting out with Sam, just having girl talk. There were pangs of homesickness, missing Teyla, Laura and Angie. But Sam’s lighthearted chatter and intense shopping strategy left Elizabeth with little time to think about those back home.
Elizabeth adjusted the showerhead so that the jet hit her right between the shoulder blades as she rested her hands on the opposite wall, her forehead on the back of her hands.
She could feel his hands on her skin, swiping up her back and down her arms. Then his hard body was against her back; his thick erection rubbing in the crease of her butt. She wanted him inside her now; she didn’t care that her body wasn’t ready. The thought of him slamming into her was enough to make her wet. Her nipples tightened almost to the point of pain. She wanted his hands gripping her, pinching and his mouth sucking.
“Jon…” she sighed. When he didn’t say anything, she opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder… finding herself alone. Damn! Damn-damn-damn! She could have sworn he was here. “Great. Just great.” Sure she could take care of herself, but she much preferred her husband’s hands and body bringing her ultimate pleasure than her own hurried release. There’s nothing like Jon’s manly fingers manipulating her. His tongue rough and tender at the same time… God! She wanted him bad.
Where the hell are you when I need you!
Just thinking about him had her unbelievably aroused. She was tempted to turn on the cold water but decided against it. The longer she held out waiting for him, the better her orgasm would be… the tantric way, right?
Oh screw that. She wanted him here and now, pounding into her with ruthless abandon. How would she ever hold out? Shaking herself, Elizabeth groaned as she shut down the water and snapped the towel from the rung on the wall outside the stall as she stepped out.
She roughly patted herself dry, still feeling the burning tension between her legs; the blood pounding in her veins.
A shadowy movement at the door made her gasp. Then he was behind her, staring at her in the mirror. His eyes dark, pupils dilated. His warm hands slid over her skin just like in the shower, but now she could see him. His hands rounded her waist and he tugged the towel from her grip. Elizabeth leaned back into him, her hair soaking into his shirt. “Are you real?”
He chuckled. “As opposed to Memorex?” He planted a kiss on her neck as his hands skimmed down her belly, making her sigh with anticipation.
“Oh thank God.”
“Are you hungry for dinner?” he whispered below her ear.
“No.” Elizabeth lifted her arms, anchoring them around his neck. The movement made her body arch, lifting her breasts and making Jon growl. One of his hands slid back up to cup a mound as the other continued on a downward path, slipping between her legs.
“Good… ‘cause I want dessert first.” He pinched her nipple as he slid two fingers inside her.
Elizabeth shuddered. “Ooooh!”
“You like that…”
“Yes.”
“How ‘bout… that?” Elizabeth’s legs nearly buckled. Jon pretty much held her up with his hand. With a slow grind of his hips against her backside, he pushed her toward the sink basin. “Put your hands on the mirror.” Releasing her hold on him, she did as told and rested her palms on the cool surface. She could see his face darken with desire as he studied her body both before him and in the reflection. His hands slipped away from her and she whimpered as he stepped back. He just stared at her. “Don’t move.”
“Jon?”
“Shhhh… just stand still, baby.”
Elizabeth didn’t know how long she could stay put. Her legs were shaky, weak with need. He just stood there for a long time, watching her. His heated gaze traveled the length of her body then turned toward the mirror to catch her eyes. “Amazing.”
“What?”
He smiled wickedly. “That as much as I want to fuck you right now… as much as you want me to take you hard and fast… I’m not gonna.”
“What?!”
He shrugged. “We’ve got reservations with General O’Neill and the gang. They’re waiting downstairs.”
Elizabeth’s desire flashed into anger and she glared at him in the mirror. “What!”
“Get dressed sweetie… chop-chop.” Jon turned and stepped out of the bathroom.
Elizabeth spun, slapping her hands onto her naked hips. “Jonathan Elvin Sheppard you get back in here and do your husbandly duty right this minute!”
He leaned back into the bathroom, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and horror. “Where did you hear that name?”
“It’s in your file… Or Col. Sheppard’s file.”
“No it’s not. It’s been taken out of everything except that damn birth certificate… You got my birth certificate!”
“I know a guy who knows a guy. And unless you want it shouted out from the rooftop, you’ll get back over here and make me come but good!”
His gaze narrowed. “That’s blackmail.”
“I prefer: enticement.”
He took a step into the bathroom. “Extortion.”
“Incentive.”
Another step. “Bribery.”
Elizabeth’s gaze grazed the tent in his trousers. “Milking…”
Jon had her by the shoulders from behind. He spun her back toward the mirror, slapping her hands onto the glass with his on top. He smoothed his palms up her arms, over her shoulders and down her back until they rested on her hips. “Coercion.”
She smiled at his reflection. “Pay-off.”
Jon slid his hands up to cup her breasts. “Squeeze-play.” She leaned forward into his grasp and rubbed her buttocks against his trapped erection.
“Gratuity.”
“Payola.”
“Lure.”
“Ransom.”
“Screw.”
Jon pinched her nipples hard as he pushed her legs apart with his knee. “Oh all right.” He grinned. She lost his hands for a moment as he freed himself. Then they were back on her hips, holding her tight as he thrust deep inside her. She gasped and Jon’s breath rushed out on a groan. “Oh yeah!”
Exactly what she wanted! He pushed himself inside her so hard and fast her feet left the floor with each thrust. He kept his grip on her hips, occasionally grinding before pounding away again.
“What… about… dinner…!”
Jon leaned forward, his hot breath tickling her ear. “I lied. Just you and me, baby.”
“Oh…Yes! Yes!” Elizabeth’s arms weakened as an orgasm bolted through her like lightning. She cried out again then slumped forward onto the vanity. Jon stalled for a moment but she could still feel him hot and hard inside of her. He wasn’t done yet. He had that ‘I can fuck for hours’ control… And she unleashed it again.
“Look at me, ‘lizbeth.” His hand tugged on her hair, pulling her head up a bit. “I want you to watch me fuck you. You’re gonna see me use you. Squeeze your gorgeous tits… slap your ass… pound” he pulled out of her “this” and shoved back in “cunt”.
Elizabeth caught his reflection. He’d managed to cast off his shirt and she could see the ripples in his abdomen as he worked in her again and again. Damn… if there was ever a man made for this… He reached under her and grasped her breasts, squeezing them as promised. They locked gazes in the mirror; his eyes smoky with desire and love. “I’m gonna fuck your brains out Mrs. Sheppard.”
She grinned lazily. “Please do… Mr. Sheppard.”
And he did. Oh, God, yes. He did!
… And now it’s her turn.
Jon settles against the mattress as Elizabeth straddles his legs. He’s already hard but she wants him burning, ready to explode, unable to hold back except for the bonds. The scarves are as soft as melted butter and probably just as tenuous against the strength in his beautifully sculpted arms. But Elizabeth knows her husband by now. He’ll do whatever she asks of him, just to please her. It makes her heart miss a beat and she swallows a lump of emotion starting to clog her throat.
She’s never known such devotion. She’s never felt it either.
Smoothing her hands up his chest, Elizabeth stretches out on top of him until her lips hover over his. She wiggles her hips and opens her legs to let his length slide between her thighs then she squeezes her legs back together. Jon’s gasp feels delicious. She crushes her breasts to him, the feel of chest hair stirring her, making her moist. She licks her lips. He lurches up to capture a kiss, but she pulls back, placing a finger against his mouth. “You’re my prisoner. You’ll do as I say, when I say, understood?”
He lays back. “Yes ma’am. But… I beg you…”
Her brows rise. “Yes?”
“Fuck my brains out.”
Elizabeth’s wicked grin matches his. “That’s the plan.”
Following the sliver of sunlight seeping through gauzy, silk curtains, Jonathan lightly traces his index finger down the silky smooth arm draped over his chest. Her bicep quivers under his feather soft touch, but she doesn’t wake. Jon smiles. He’s never drugged someone with sex before; but Elizabeth is blissfully sated, boneless in his arms and sleeping like the dead. She’s snuggled tight against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her body warm and succulent. He should be just as tired – hell, he’s exhausted – but his body doesn’t seem to know from exhaustion when it comes to Elizabeth. Jon sighs a quiet groan. Betrayed once again by the monster between his legs… wanting her again!
He slides that same finger along her rosy cheek, gently easing a sweat matted curl behind her ear. Her nose wrinkles slightly and a heavy sigh escapes, otherwise, she remains immobile… though forever gorgeous. He can’t imagine his life without her in it. Without her smile, her voice… her body. God what a body! And she knows how to use it! But so does he. That last thought makes his grin grow.
He made her purr! He almost laughs, but doesn’t want to wake his sleeping beauty. He’d heard the description of a purring woman before – probably used it himself long ago when talking with Cam about past conquests – but he’s never been quite as turned on as he was when Elizabeth made that sound in her throat as she slowly worked over him, claiming him with every move, every inch she took inside. It was a low, intense rumble that seemed to go on and on, vibrating through both of them as they clung to each other and finally climaxed with amazing intensity.
Damn, if he isn’t the luckiest bastard in the universe. He brushes his lips against his wife’s forehead then drops his head back into lush pillows of their luxurious suite. Calling upon some of the techniques Teal’c mentioned during their ‘day-of-bonding’ as Elizabeth eloquently put it, Jon forces his body to relax. The tension eases and the throbbing need subsides… for now, at least.
It’s at times like these that Jon understands and even pities Sheppard’s bond with Angela. The physical need is exhilarating and kind of scary. And his need for Elizabeth is all natural… no alien enhancement required here. If the two of them ended up like Sheppard and Angela… well, it’s amazing those two are still alive, is all Jon can think.
Finally, he closes his eyes and lets the craziness of the past three days wash over him.
The trip through the gate reminded him how much he misses being off-world. But the time spent at the SGC he could lose… except that part in the closet with Elizabeth. Damn, was that hot! He’d never fucked so fast and come so hard in his life. Even as a teenager, he’d had pretty good game. But nobody’s ever gotten to him like Elizabeth.
Something the guys picked up on instantly at the SGC. “Whipped” was bantered about quite a bit – even by Teal’c, which made Jon do a double-take on the large Jaffa – all said in good fun which was meant to push Jon into going along with them on a male-bonding outing. It worked, of course. He is, after all, just a guy… and his male ego was at stake for gods sakes.
Between Cam’s need to learn all about his ‘other’ self and Dr. Jackson’s – or Daniel’s – need to commune with another de-ascended person, Jon’s throat was raw from talking that first day back from Atlantis. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything… except more time with Elizabeth. The fun of just hanging with the guys – even though he’d never met them before, it was like coming home for real. Being with Cam again, talking about the past… it gave him a bittersweet heartache that has yet to ease.
General O’Neill – Jack… damn, he doesn’t expect to ever get used to using that man’s first name as if they were equals… though that’s exactly what he – Jack – had said they were back at O’Malley’s. They were simply four guys having steaks and beer and chatting about the women in their lives. No ranks – since Jon really didn’t have one – and no shop talk. Problem was, only Jon had a woman to really talk about.
Jack’s sly comments about his ‘lady friend’ were rather cryptic, though Jon got the hint from the other three that Sam was, in fact, that friend. It just wasn’t something they talked about out in the open… fuckin’ politics, protocol… whatever.
Daniel had been attached – literally through some alien bracelet – to some woman named Vala, but she disappeared during a mission against this new Ori threat. And Daniel’s rather closed-mouth on the subject of Vala for some reason.
Neither Cam nor Teal’c seemed to have a life outside the SGC, giving Jon the impression that they weren’t telling him everything about this Ori problem.
And why would they? He’s not really authorized to know anything. As Landry said, he’s really a non-person right now. Though Jack did say he was putting in the paperwork to clear that mess up. Something about a retro-active birth certificate indicating he is, in fact, John Sheppard’s twin brother Jonathan… possibly stolen at birth from the hospital and sold on the black market.
Jon’s actually tempted to call himself ‘Jack’ since it is a short version of Jonathan… but that’ll probably confuse Elizabeth even more; would be funny to see Angie’s reaction to it though. But, he’s too old for another name change. Jonathan works. Sheppard will just have to deal with it.
Jack did want to talk about Angela. Given how close the two are Jon didn’t have a problem sharing some information: like what happened on that last visit to PXT-705 and how she’s dealing. He also told the guys how he and Angie kicked each other’s asses during that rousing sparring match.
“That’s my girl.” Jack’s knowing, fatherly smile told Jon all he needed to know about the man. Just like Ronon, the guy’s a marshmallow when it comes to Angie. What is it about that woman!
“So what ever happened to Janette… Janelle…?” Cam asked.
“Janeane,” Jon helped.
Cam snapped his fingers and pointed at Jon. “Right. Janeane. What did I… I mean the other me… do?”
“You know. You all are awfully sanguine about this… me, I mean, being from a parallel universe. Doesn’t it screw with your brains?”
Daniel looked at Jack who looked at Teal’c and all three shook their heads; everyday business for them, it seemed. Then they all looked at Cam. He shrugged. “We just had about a hundred different versions of ourselves wandering through the gate a few weeks back.” He popped a French fry into his mouth. “Even bonded with myself… you all know what I mean.” They nodded. “So, it’s cool in a bizarre kind of way. As long as you don’t tell me he’s evil or has a goatee or somethin’. I don’t deal well with the dark side of me.”
“And, of course, there’s the whole ‘that’s-a-cliché’ storyline,” Jack said with a grimace.
“O’Neill is not fond of clichés,” Teal’c said.
Cam leaned back in the booth. “Cliché or not… been there, zatted that.” The last remark made Daniel chuckle hard. He must have been there to see it. “So back to Janeane?”
Jon smirked as he downed some beer. “You married her, my friend.”
“Get out!”
“Not long after graduation, actually. The proud pop of two rascally boys by the time we went to the Academy.”
“Mitchell married his prom date,” Jack started. “How… cliché.” Only he said that with a big grin as he drank his beer. “Let me guess,” Jack motioned to Jon. “Best man?”
Jon nodded. “Yes sir… I mean… yep.”
“Betcha threw one hellava bachelor party for me, huh?” Cam laughed.
“Considering we were all under twenty-one… we had to be imaginative. Let’s just say, you wouldn’t want those pictures for posterity in any universe.” That comment made all four laugh especially Daniel who, after only two beers, seemed rather drunk.
Jon must have made a face because Teal spoke up. “O’Neill has labeled DanielJackson a…” he looked to Jack and at the same time they said: “Lightweight.”
Daniel didn’t take any offense to the label because he laughed as he practically lay down on the table, both arms cradling his head. “I wonder what you did to piss ‘em off.”
“’scuse me?” Jon asked.
Daniel waved a hand. “The high falutin ancients.”
“Yeah, man,” Cam added. “I’ve only known you a few hours… you must’ve rattled them but good.” He laughed heartily. “Can’t imagine you following rules made for breaking. Especially the non-interfering kind… you know… that’d make you be the big damn hero.”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. I got what I wanted.” Jon grinned into his mug. “Damn good trade up if you ask me.”
Daniel pushed his head up with his hand, leaning heavily on his elbow on the table. “How in the world did you get the classiest lady in two galaxies to marry you?”
“Apparently while you would pop into the minds of your friends to offer support and comfort… I…was a bit more… focused. Or selfish, I guess.” He couldn’t say it. It’d be too crass… too…
“You jumped her!” Cam blurted with a harsh slap on the table.
The restaurant came to an abrupt halt as all eyes turned to the four men. Jon’s face felt as if he’d been up close and personal with the sun. Jack’s eyes narrowed on him while Daniel’s were wide and innocent. Teal’c, ever stoic, raised a single brow, though Jon sensed the man wanted to smirk. It took a few moments but the other patrons went back to their own conversations.
“You could do that?” Daniel asked in a really low, astonished voice. “I wonder if I did that…”
“Not with me, thank God.”
“Nor me, DanielJackson.”
“And we all know how pissed Sam is at you for not coming to see her any time during your glowy heyday…”
Daniel sat up abruptly. He pointed a stiff finger at Jack. “Hey! It’s not my fault she wasn’t in any life or death danger that needed my assistance.”
“So you couldn’t have just popped in to say hello to your Wonder Twin?” Jack raised his brows. “She wasn’t feeling the love, Dannyboy. You just have to live with it.”
“Wonder Twin?” Jon asked.
“The Super Friends, JonathanSheppard,” Teal’c said helpfully. “O’Neill believes ColonelCarter and DanielJackson to be akin to the brother and sister cartoon characters. However, I do not understand the connotation. ColonelCarter cannot turn into other mammalian creatures and DanielJackson has never become a bucket of water or a large chunk of ice.” His gaze narrowed on Daniel. “While being human that is.”
Jon looked to Jack; he shrugged. “If I’d said Luke and Leia… it would have been just weird.”
“Because LukeSkywalker was clearly infatuated with his twin sister in the first movie.”
“Don’t you mean the fourth, Teal’c?” Cam asked.
“I do not. Star Wars: A New Hope is the only first movie of consequence.”
“Which explains why he keeps watching it, over and over…” Jack groaned. “And forcing it on others… over and over.”
“You think I have a crush on Sam?” Daniel asked suddenly.
“No. That’s why I said it would be weird.”
Daniel’s brows knit together. “Oh.” He turned to Jon again. “So, do you remember it? The jumping part?”
“No. Elizabeth figured it out. Must’ve been in her dreams, me being non-corporeal and all that. I guess I wanted to make sure I was with the right woman.”
“And yet…” Daniel held up a finger. “You came back for a totally different one than who you were originally in love with.”
Jon shrugged. “Elizabeth is Elizabeth. I can’t imagine her being any different in any reality.”
“That is not entirely accurate JonathanSheppard. We have encountered several alternate versions of ourselves… there have been many differences.”
“Because of circumstance, T-man,” Cam stated. “Even evil me wasn’t totally evil. He and the others were just trying to save their world.”
“You are correct CameronMitchell.” Teal’c raised a single brow. “And did I not inform you to stop calling me T-man.”
Cam made a face and motioned with a finger point. “Yes, you did. Sorry.”
“But how did you know she was ‘The One’?” Daniel asked. Jon was about to answer but the archeologist continued. “Throughout history, cultures have believed in the hierarchy of humans over animals because it is believed that human’s have souls – are the only creatures to have them according to some mythology and religions – because of sentience and higher reasoning. To the same degree, gods are over humans or in the case of the Goa’uld beings acting as gods because they are supposedly smarter or immortal.”
The three other men simply stared at Daniel. Then Teal’c said: “I believe DanielJackson has reached his alcoholic limit for the night.”
“Ya think?” Jack added with raised brows.
Daniel sat up straight, his excitement palatable in his rush of words. “Don’t you see? Jon being here, in this reality just shows that everything we’ve been caught up in – everything is…wrong!”
Cam raised his brows. “What’cha going on about?”
“For one, humans cannot be the only beings with souls because we have come across numerous alien cultures that defy that rule. And it’s only ego on our part that states other creatures even on Earth like cats and dogs don’t have souls simple because they can’t stand upright and don’t talk to us.”
“I for one believe cats are the smartest creatures to exist,” Jack offered. “Especially if they work their way into your house. Have you ever looked a cat in the eyes… they know stuff. Besides… what human wouldn’t want to spend most of the day lounging around then go party at night with his pals. No job necessary… just look pretty and bam… life of luxury.”
“I do believe that is how you have described super models as well, O’Neill.”
“Paris Hilton,” Cam added.
Jack shook his head. “Naw… it’s it eyes. You gotta look in the eyes. All cats got it… those others… the lights aren’t even blinking.”
Daniel sighed impatiently. “Plato wrote about Beings that were split apart long ago and scattered around the world so that they could never reach ultimate fulfillment and threaten to usurp the power of the gods.” He waved a hand. “That’s where the idea of soul mates comes from. The two halves of the Beings are reunited for all eternity once they find each other. That connection gives them power. Mostly the power of happiness but even that is something amazing when all else is chaos. Even stretching the theory to include all the souls that exist in all the galaxies; not only in human’s but all other creatures in existence –”
“Even bugs?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” Daniel sneered. “Even bugs.”
“I hate bugs,” Jon grumbled.
“Nasty little things,” Jack agreed.
“Sometimes, not so little,” Jon added, scratching at his neck.
“I read about that. Happened to you too, I take it.”
Jon nodded, a violent shudder racing his spine. Being trapped on that jumper, getting his life sucked out by that damn thing would always be one of his worst memories. “So far, most of life on Atlantis has been a wash. Couple of planets my team went to that his didn’t and vice versa. Mundane stuff.”
“And Angie.”
“That’s the big one,” Jon said. “I can’t even imagine…” Well, actually he could, in fact, see it plainly in his head at times, but that’s not something he plans on sharing with the woman’s self-appointed pseudo-father. Jack O’Neill may be close to twenty years Jon’s senior, but he had no doubt the General could kill him any number of ways. Silently. Painfully if he wanted.
“What’s wrong with Angie?”
Jon smirked at Jack’s defensive tone. “She’s not Elizabeth.” Jack fought it for several seconds but the smile finally broke free. He clinked his beer mug to Jon’s and they both drank.
Their short interlude managed to make Daniel roll his eyes, but not lose his train of thought. The guy was nothing short of a dog gnawing a bone. “The Bible talks about the immortal soul belonging strictly to God for him to do with it as he chooses once the mortal body has lost purpose.”
“No free will?” Jack asked. Clearly he was trying to throw a wrench in Daniel’s spinning wheels but Dr. Jackson was having none of it. Even his inebriation couldn’t stop the floodgate of knowledge and ideas he was determined to bounce off all of them.
“Only part of the deal while within the mortal body, too some extent and only in some religions. But that’s not the point. I’m talking about the soul, Jack.” He turned to Jon again. “There’s a reason you chose this reality. This Elizabeth Weir.”
“Because she’s hot,” Cam said.
“Cheers!” Jon raised his mug.
Teal’c looked amused if not completely interested, perhaps wondering if he could sneak away to the restroom until Daniel finished. Cam’s confusion was evident even though he tried to hide it behind the silly grin. Jack, however, seemed to be taking it all in stride, baiting Daniel between sips of beer or the shelling of a peanut.
Surprisingly, Jon was hanging on Daniel’s every word. There was something in what the scientist was taking a long time in saying. Not unlike McKay in that aspect. He sat staring at his beer mug as if completely uninterested, but his ears picked up every word. It was as if his thoughts were moving along the same lines as Daniel’s because he had the tiniest inkling of where this was all going. It was on the tip of his tongue…
“Plato was brilliant but didn’t – couldn’t – know about multiple universes. People making daily decisions that ultimately split the universe into infinite versions of itself. If everyone already has only half a soul… when the universe splits, doesn’t that soul split as well? And if so… how infinite is the soul? And what happens when one of those versions of reality gets destroyed… what happens to all those souls – or partial ones.”
“Are you considering that the soul does not exist, DanielJackson?”
“No.” Daniel said firmly. “What we know of the soul is that it is energy. Pure energy. We don’t know where it comes from, how it’s created or where it goes after death. Some ascend but that is not death. If it was, Oma would not have given me the choice of ascension over death. So the two are mutually exclusive. No energy is infinite… spread too thin and it dissipates… but it may also reintegrate unto itself.”
“So one version of me dies in one reality, that energy is transferred to another,” Cam said.
“Theoretically. Of course Entropic Cascade Failure was theoretical, then not, then it was again considering we had all those copies hanging out and no one had seizures like Dr. Carter did after coming through the quantum mirror.”
“McKay said something about it being the mirror’s fault,” Jon offered.
“He did,” Daniel cocked his head.
“Ummm… My McKay, I guess I should say.”
“Right,” Jack grunted. “Can’t have too many of those in the universe.”
Jon shrugged. “He got stuck in an alternate reality where his other self had just died. It took days to get him back. He had just started having the seizures. He thought the aliens that made the devices did it on purpose so no reality could be overloaded with copies. They were only meant to visit, not stay.”
Daniel nodded along. “That would be a good deterrent. And it would explain a lot.”
“Like why I’m not having any problems.”
“Yeah. Of course, if you were able to retake human form without any hassle–”
“He means not being returned naked,” Jack smirked. “Twice.”
“Oma has an odd sense of humor,” Daniel said.
“Oma likes to make you look silly,” Jack amended.
“I’m just surprised they let you come back to a reality that wasn’t your own. You must’ve made an impression on them. Or at least made a powerful friend.”
“Wish I could remember.”
Jack grimaced. “Those wacky Ancients aren’t big on the helpful scale.” He looked like he was going to say more but then thought better of it. “Sorry. You were babbling, Daniel?”
Daniel scowled a bit then looked to Jon. “You were in love with the Elizabeth Weir from your reality. Yet from what you have told us, your reality is actually not a spawn of ours. At first you believed, and rightly so, that you were split off from when Major Sheppard took the jumper to the hive ship and the Daedalus didn’t arrive in time.”
“Yeah.”
“But now we know, given that your parents didn’t get divorced and you didn’t move to California with your father, that you grew up on a farm… befriending Mitchell. So, even though the timelines seem to match up perfectly in Atlantis, the split didn’t happen then… you and Col. Sheppard were possibly never the same person beyond conception. It’s impossible to know when the change occurred.”
“Daniel?” Jack asked lightly. “What’s your point?”
“I think Plato was right on when it came to the Powers That Be not wanting someone else taking what they have. Only he didn’t have the information we do. The PTB didn’t just send split souls across the galaxies, they fractured them through space and time as well.”
“As a way to insure they’re power base,” Teal’c said, looking rather insightful. “As long as enough souls could not be reunited, they would have nothing to fear.”
“Exactly!”
“I don’t get it,” Jack said. “Which isn’t saying much, ‘cause I don’t get a lot of things you go on about.”
Cam straightened in his seat. “I think he’s saying having Jon here with our Elizabeth is a good thing.” He looked at Daniel. “Or am I missing something.”
Daniel smiled. “Yes. That’s what I am saying.”
“I believe DanielJackson has also indicated that such a pairing is quite rare.” Teal’c turned to Cam. “And that your soul mate may be in another reality, perhaps living as a cat at this very moment.”
Cam raised his brows. “From all that, you got that my soul mate is a cat… in another reality.”
Teal’c arched a brow. “I did.”
“Added irony… a tomcat,” Jack chuckled as he sipped his beer.
“Given my luck with love, no doubt.”
Jon heard their exchange but all the while his mind was reeling with what Daniel had just said. If it was true – and there’s no way to prove it – then not only was his relationship with Elizabeth (this one) predestined, but he also managed to stick it to whoever tried to keep them apart. Good for me!
Daniel was back to drinking his beer and eating peanuts, his energy dipping as his brain slowly shut back down. Jon would always wonder if these insights the archeologist managed to pull out of the air were simple fanciful notions or actual knowledge he’d managed to retain from his two times being ascended. He also mentioned something about using the Replicator Carter as a conduit to gain some of the information locked in his subconscious. Not that he admitted to understanding any of it. The fact that it was there, buried deep inside made Jon consider his own time with the Ancients.
Does time actually matter there? How many realities did he visit before landing on this one? And how did he know this was the place for him?
“So,” Jon started. “What’s this all mean?”
“Daniel?” Jack said.
“Hmm?” He looked up from the peanut shell that seemed to hold the mysteries of the universe locked inside.
“Me and Elizabeth. Soul mates from different realities etcetera.”
“Oh… I guess you get your happily ever after.”
“That’s it? No extra powers? Nothing to kick the bad PTB’s asses,” he glanced at Jack. “Assuming they have any.”
Daniel’s brows knitted together and he stared hard at Jon. There was a sadness in Daniel that he hadn’t noticed before; eyes haunted with pain and Jon felt a pang of sympathy for the man. “Being happy with the woman of your dreams isn’t enough for you? What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“Indeed,” Teal’c sighed.
Both Cam and Jack threw peanut shells at Jon.
Jon sniffs Elizabeth’s hair as he rubs his chin against her head. Oh, she’s definitely enough for me.
They’ve been in Vegas two days. Of that, they’ve been in bed almost the whole time. Aside from the quickie marriage in the tackiest Elvis Chapel they could find on The Strip, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other.
The Elvis Chapel was Elizabeth’s idea. She said that nothing could top their actual wedding aboard the Daedalus. Two of the hotel employees, friends of friends of Sam’s and Jack’s, stood up for them as witnesses and they were done. Legally husband and wife in the eyes of the USA. Because Elizabeth chose the locale, Jon chose the attire. He had their T-shirts made as promised: bright red with white writing; hers reads: Dr. Elizabeth Sheppard and his: Dr. Elizabeth Sheppard’s devoted, matrimonial, pleasure slave.
The moment she saw it, she burst out laughing, her face turning as red as the shirt. “You can’t wear that!”
“Why not? It’s Vegas,” he said. “And besides,” he trailed kisses up her neck. “It’s not like it’s false advertising.”
She nearly melted into him when his lips got to that point just below her ear. “Wear whatever you want, just marry me so we can have our second wedding night.”
He pulled back. “Only if you promise no laughing.”
She ran her hands over his chest, stopping at his heart that always managed to pick up speed when she touched him. “I promise… if you don’t get stuck in your pants again.”
After that, they’d marched straight into the chapel and said the ‘I do’s’ once more. And as much as he loved seeing her in that wedding dress before, Jon would swear she looked just as beautiful in the pair of jeans and the purposely too-tight T-shirt.
And then they made love as if they hadn’t been together in years. It was slow, fast, languorous, rough, gentle, teasing and endless. He’d made her come so much, she begged him for mercy; which he only laughed at because a moment later she was begging him for more.
He’s never known a woman so much his match in bed when everything else she does is so above him. At first he was worried she’d be timid about his lust for her. On the surface, Elizabeth looks cool and classy. She’s intelligent, articulate and commanding. Buried beneath that educated, polished exterior, though, is one hellava wildcat who likes sex just as much as he does. And she’s not as docile as she was in the beginning. She’s finding pleasure in her power over him just as she takes pleasure in his power over her. She’s always trusted him; and she made it clear that being dominated is as much a release for her as anything else. She likes being stripped of command… of not having to be in charge all the time. And Jon stays attuned to her likes and dislikes. But it’s more than that.
He’s discovered the beauty of silence: looking into her eyes as they linger with each other over their morning coffee, watching her face as she slowly slips into sleep, or holding her through the night. And not just the good nights either; but the ones that keep her tossing and turning with strange nightmares and names of the dead on her lips.
He never knew the other Elizabeth like this. He was in love with her from afar, had been from the moment he saw her in Antarctica, having flown General O’Neill to the secret project. Had it not been for Beckett firing that drone, Jon never would have gotten clearance to go down the elevator. He never would have found out his touch could activate Ancient devices… and he never would have met her.
Without finding Elizabeth, he never would have found out what had really happened to Cam. She’d given him his friend’s file. Jon hadn’t told this Cameron Mitchell the whole story; hadn’t wanted to leave him with a bad taste in his mouth. Jon’s best friend died in the fight to save Earth from Anubis… leaving his wife and two sons alone. The Air Force gave him justice with a hero’s funeral, all the trimmings; but it wasn’t what Janeane and the boys needed.
Elizabeth had watched him read the file. She’d placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and said the words he had needed to hear for so long: “I’m sorry, Jon.”
Jon hadn’t cried. The tears had come and gone nearly a year before. He knew the risks just as well as Cam had. What had made the lump form in his throat that day was the risk Elizabeth had taken in showing him the file. It had still been classified. He hadn’t yet signed on the dotted line. The compassion she showed him, the understanding in her eyes… that’s when he really fell for her. And that’s why he signed on to go to Atlantis. For her.
But this isn’t her. Daniel was right about that. This Elizabeth is not the same woman. He knows that woman and all his people are dead. Atlantis was destroyed as he contemplated ascension over death on some higher plane. He might not remember it, but he feels it in his bones… in his blood. He knows he watched his friends – hell, his family – die and couldn’t raise a finger to help them. The screams that wake him during the night aren’t simply imaginary. They’re remnants.
Jon hugs Elizabeth tighter. She snuggles into him with a happy sigh, her hand freely roaming over his chest for a brief moment and everything else fades away. He stares at her peaceful face for a long time before closing his eyes.
What does it matter? He said it before: Elizabeth is Elizabeth… no matter the reality. Somehow he’d been drawn to her no matter what. Even Sheppard hadn’t been immune. And isn’t their relationship just as powerful? Their friendship just as important?
Jon’s sure about one thing: he and Elizabeth were meant to be together in one form or another in every universe. Hell, there’s probably a reality out there where she is a cat and I’m a dog and we’re still together. The thought makes him chuckle lightly.
“Jon?” her voice is heavy with sleep; her eyes barely open.
“Shhh,” he kisses her temple. “I love you.”
“No more than me,” she sighs, once again slumbering away.
Jon grins, letting sleep finally reach for him. Happiness is powerful stuff. And Elizabeth is his happiness.
Luckiest man in any universe!
a/n: Carter's six degrees to the Montecito (Las Vegas) was inspired by: AT worked with D Hewlett who guest starred on Without A Trace with Jerry O'Connell who guest starred on Las Vegas (a couple times).
Teyla finds Angie standing on a cross-way balcony overlooking the market place. She leans her forearms on the railing right beside her friend who she studies for a moment; determining what approach in conversation she should take.
McKay told her about the sudden change in Angie’s mood – something which Teyla has grown accustomed to because it happens frequently. She was not prepared for the other development, however. That is disturbing news.
The remnants of tears stain Angie’s cheeks. Red-rimmed, slightly swollen eyes belie deep pain; shallow breaths shudder through her body.
Teyla bows her head. “The negotiations went well. I believe Dr. Weir and my people will be most pleased.” Angie nods, but does not look away from the view of the market place. She is rubbing the now naked finger on her left hand. Teyla places her hand over Angie’s and stills the fidgeting. “Perhaps your body is missing something important.”
Angie sighs heavily. “I’ll get used to it.”
With a gentle finger under Angie’s chin, Teyla turns the woman so she can look her in the eyes. “You do not have to.”
“Yes, I do.” After a moment: “What did he tell you?”
“Dr. McKay mentioned you were upset. He suggested my perspective would be far more valuable than his own.”
“Why’s that?”
“I am also a woman in love.”
Angie’s eyes widen. “You’re in love with Ronon? Does he know?”
“He is aware.”
Angie’s solemn expression returns as her brows crease. “What’s wrong? You can’t tell me he’s unhappy to know.”
“I was once bonded to someone. Long ago.” She can feel Angie’s eyes on her so she turns to look into them. “I loved him very much.”
“More than you love Ronon?”
“I… perhaps… Feelings cannot be measured in such a manner. We were promised from childhood. Bonded young.” She drops her gaze as the long dead pain returns. “But…”
Angie nods. “He hurt you.”
“Deeply. I did not rise from my bed for many days. I spoke to no one. I could not lead my people.”
“What did he do?”
“Spoke falsely.”
“He lied to you?”
“Lied. Yes.”
“About what?”
“He promised we would always be together. That he would never leave me.”
Angie’s eyes and face darken with understanding. “He was culled.”
“Yes.” Teyla rests her hand on Angie’s again. “Col. Sheppard has not suffered such a fate. You’re happiness is still within your grasp.”
A sob trembles through Angie’s body and she covers her mouth to keep it from escaping. “What about his happiness, Teyla?” she whispers hoarsely.
“You are his happiness.”
“I wish I could believe that. I really do. But…” She leans heavily on the railing and bows her head. Tears slip from her face and hit the ground.
“You have lost your faith in him. Because of the other woman.”
Angie’s head snaps up. “McKay!”
“He did not need to tell me. I witnessed the interaction between the Colonel and the woman on the planet. It was very clear she was enamored of him.”
“I’ll bet.”
“And yet…he did not hold the same feeling.” Teyla rubs Angie’s back. “Unless he is looking at you. Then the emotions are clear.”
“I know he loves me.” She sniffs and wipes away the tears. “He hasn’t had much choice in the matter given the lust-o-rama device. And that’s so unfair to him. But even still, I don’t doubt his love for me. And I love him – heart and soul. In every cell … he’s inside me. There won’t ever be anyone else.” She shakes her head sadly. “But he doesn’t believe that.”
“I assure you–”
“No Teyla, you can’t.” A long breath shakes her body and the pain in her eyes makes Teyla wince. “He thinks I left him there. Left him alone. It’s my fault he slept with that … woman.” She hisses the word as if it is evil. “Somewhere, deep down he knows he can’t trust me.” Her hand dives into her hair, pulling hard at the curling strands. She laughs without humor. “And I warned him, you know! I’m the most messed up person in two galaxies. I know this. I accept it. I warned him I wasn’t any good for anyone. But he pushed and he made me …” weeping overtakes her, making her voice grow tight. “He made me think… that I could be.”
Teyla wraps her arms around Angie, letting her cry. It is a rare sight for Angie to open up as such, to permit someone other than Dr. Heightmeyer to see into her frailty. Even with the sudden mood shifts Angie does not weep openly, does not offer such insight into her pain.
Dr. McKay is correct. Something has happened in the short time they have been on Belkan. But what could it be? Perhaps it does not matter. Obviously these doubts do reside within Angie; it does not matter what has brought them to the surface.
What matters is that Teyla knows these doubts are pointless. John does love her. She has witnessed his affection grow from mild interest to full blown devotion. She does not understand his actions with the other woman, does not condone it, but it is not her place to condemn him either. Only he has the answers to that. And he must deal with the consequences. But for Angie to feel she is responsible is beyond foolish. To doubt him would be one thing. To doubt herself is something else entirely.
Teyla smoothes her hand down Angie’s dark mane while patting her back as Teyla’s mother would do. “You must not feel this way, Angela. You are a singular woman. A warrior.” She lifts Angie’s chin again. “You must reclaim the strength I know is inside you. When we get back to Atlantis, you must speak with John. Tell him of your concerns. Let him put them from your mind. Because he will. He does love you as you love him. I have seen this. It is not a deception for either of you. And he does trust in you and your love. I do not believe he gave up on you or being rescued. Not in his heart. Remember. The mind can play tricks on us, but the heart always knows the truth of a matter.”
From her pocket, Teyla pulls out the engagement ring and hands it to Angie. “Read what is written inside.”
“My angel…always.” She sighs and a few more silent tears slip down her cheeks.
Teyla wipes the tears away. “That is from his heart to yours. Eternally. There is no doubt.”
“But–”
Teyla takes the ring and slides it onto Angie’s finger. “Do you know the tale of this ring?” Teyla asks quietly. “How it came about?”
Angie stares at her hand, but makes no attempt to remove the band. “He had it made here.”
“This is a trade based people, Angela. You know this. You had Elizabeth’s necklace made here. What do you believe John could have bargained with to have such a creation brought into existence?”
Angie stares at the ring as does Teyla. The exquisite detail of the polished swirling colors reminiscent of a sunset over Atlantis, engraved fine gold hearts all around the band. There is no other like it in the universe. It is unique.
Angie meets Teyla’s gaze. “I never even thought about it,” she says quietly, shaking her head. “It must have been something of value.”
“There are differences in value out here, Angela. What is one person’s prized possession is another’s trinket to be tossed aside.”
“Well, he didn’t part with his Johnny Cash poster, I know that,” she chuckles softly.
Teyla does not understand the humor in the remark so she moves on. “Do you know of the personal items he brought with him on his first journey through the Stargate from Earth?”
Angie’s eyes lock onto Teyla’s. “Everyone knows about the football video. He had something else?”
Teyla grins softly. “I understand military personnel know how to pack properly. At least that is what Col. Sheppard told me.”
She grins at that. “He can be a sneaky one.” Her smile fades and she raises her brows. “That’s what he traded… something he managed to hold onto even when he wasn’t supposed to bring it?”
“Something he never believed he would part with for any reason.”
Her eyes glaze with panic. “What? What was it?”
“Do you recall the planet full of mist?”
“The one where you could create your own realities. Sure I heard about that one. You were with John.”
Teyla nods. “I saw your world through his thoughts. I also met people, friends of his long passed… has he told you of Mitch and Dex?”
She shakes her head, studying the ring again. “He doesn’t share much when it comes to his old life.”
“Perhaps it is too painful to speak of.”
“I guess.”
“Once we returned to Atlantis after that experience, I urged him to speak of the incident that took the lives of his friends. I also needed to understand why he would create such a reality in which they were still alive only to have to live through the pain of their loss again. He was not forthcoming, but as you know, I am very patient.”
Angie looked up again, meeting Teyla’s eyes. “What did he say?”
“He simply wanted to see them again. He had started to forget what they looked like and it was disturbing for him because every time he opened his wardrobe, he would be reminded of them, but could not clearly see their faces anymore.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I did not either. Until he opened his wardrobe and showed me two medallions placed neatly in a drawer all of their own.”
Angie visibly swallows and her face pales. “Two medals?” she asks softly. “What did they look like?”
Teyla looks to the sky then back down at Angie. “I am unsure of the description.” She kneels and draws a finger through the dust covering the walkway. “They were shaped as this … with the side of a man’s face–” Angie’s intake of breath is audible and high-pitched. Teyla looks up. Angie is covering her mouth again and fresh tears hover in her eyes. Teyla stands and places both hands on Angie’s shoulders. “I did not say this to upset you.”
Angie shakes her head, closing her eyes, letting the tears flow freely. “Purple Heart.” Her voice is shaky and barely a whisper. When she opens her eyes again, they are full of anger. “Are you telling me John traded the Purple Hearts of his two best friends. His two dead best friends … for this?” She holds up the ring.
Teyla shakes her head. She presses her hand to Angie’s cheek. “For you.”
Angie shakes her head almost violently as she takes several steps back. “I don’t … that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! How…why would he do something so stupid! Why?!”
“Angela–”
Without another word, Angie rushes through the crowd.
“Angela!” Teyla calls, but her friend has vanished into the market place. Teyla taps her headset. “Dr. McKay.” No answer. “Rodney!”
“Yes…yes…Teyla? What is it? Did you get her–”
“We have a problem,” Teyla sighs.
“Well, crap, Teyla, I could have told you that. But I think I’ve figured out what’s caused her–”
“McKay, Teyla, Ronon? This is Sheppard, come in.”
“Colonel?” Teyla asks.
“Hey, Teyla,” he responds, his voice strained. “We have a situation here.”
Teyla heads for the nearest staircase. “We will return to Atlantis immediately.” Once I find Angie!
“Negative.”
“Negative?” That is McKay. “What do you mean?”
“We…ahhh…have a sort of outbreak. A rash in the city. Everyone’s been affected. If you come back, you’ll be exposed.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” McKay whines and Teyla rolls her eyes even though he is no where around to see her do it.
“Just relax, McKay,” the Colonel says firmly. “Ronon?”
“As usual, he’s not sporting his headset at the moment,” McKay says. “Too busy chatting up the local union buddies.”
“What about Angie?”
“Ahhh…” McKay drags it out. “She’s … fine. Off shopping, I think.”
“Right. Teyla. Dr. Beckett’s here. He wants to explain the rash. See if there’s a chance you might know of a cure.”
“I am listening,” she says. Dr. Beckett tells her the symptoms and what the rash looks like. At first she cannot picture anything he is mentioning until he tells her about the dark spots that accompany the redness. “I believe I am familiar with this rash, Dr. Beckett.”
“Oh, thank God, lass. Please tell me you know what to do to get rid of the bloody thing.”
Teyla smiles and nods. “I believe the symptoms will lessen within one day and vanish within ten days.”
“Ten days!” Col. Sheppard yells over the com and she winces. “We can’t go ten more hours like this, Teyla. We need something to get rid of it now!”
“There is a possible solution, Col. Sheppard. However, it will require the four of us to travel to another planet. One I am familiar with, though I have not visited in many days.”
“Which planet?”
“The world itself does not have a name that I know of, however, the kingdom is called Lartec Msagro and the Man-of-Arms is named Treyhil. They are powerful healers. I have a good relationship with them.”
“So why haven’t you mentioned them before?” Col. Sheppard snaps.
Teyla clears her throat. “That discussion is better left for a different time. Dr. McKay, are you listening?”
“Can’t stop with you two blaring in my head.”
“Where are you?”
“In the tavern.”
“Very well, I will meet you there. Col. Sheppard, we will contact you once we have arrived in the kingdom and spoken with Treyhil.”
“Okay, we’ll wait to hear from you,” Col. Sheppard says. “Atlantis out.”
Then there is silence. For a moment: “So, what’s the other problem?” McKay asks.
Teyla closes her eyes then pinches the bridge of her nose. “Angela ran off.”
“And you didn’t chase her? Are you insane? We can’t go anywhere without her, Sheppard would kill us. Oh, wait, what am I thinking! Ronon’s not ten feet away from me. He’s going to kill us first.”
“Not if we find her.”
“And how do you suggest we do that, hmmm?”
Teyla grinds her teeth. “I suggest you open your eyes and look, Dr. McKay. As will I.”
Again there is silence on the radio until she hears a grumbled: “Fine.” A click follows indicating McKay has shut off his radio connection.
“McKay, Teyla, Ronon? This is Sheppard, come in.”
Angie nearly falls down the stairs as her feet stop abruptly at the sound of John’s voice over the headset. A surge of love swells in her chest, but her heart still hurts and now feels like it’s about to explode. She desperately wants to talk to him… but not right now. Not when everything is so…
Ignoring the conversation the teammates are having, Angie stumbles blindly through the bazaar, tears blurring her vision, anger heating her face. Though for the life of her she can’t figure out why she’s so upset. She glances at the gorgeous ring John gave her. The sign of his love for her. Why is she so mad at him? She fell in love with the thing the instant John showed it to her. He had it made for her. Not something he picked out of a store window or glass case, but specific…for her. Atlantis specific, that is clear. The colors are too rich and too complex to be anything other than a depiction of their gorgeous dusk skyline.
And yet looking at it now breaks her heart! How could he have given up something so important? She isn’t worth losing that part of his history. Throwing away the last remnants of his best friends on her? No! John couldn’t have done it. Teyla must be mistaken.
Harshly swiping the tears from her face, Angie changes direction and charges for someone she knows will tell her the truth. And if it is what she fears the most… she will make amends this instant.
The little shop set in the midst of the trading center is unusually quiet. The last time John brought her here, it seemed everyone and their mother was milling about trying to get a look at Gentri’s newest creations. Angie slips through the curtained doorway and bumps right into Berat, Gentri’s grandfather and the master of artwork before his granddaughter took the reins.
“Why… who’s that…?” He squints at Angie. “I know you, young one. Do I not?”
Angie offers a watery smile. She remembers really liking this old man. “We met before, sir. My name is Angie.” She offers her hand but instead of taking it, Berat grasps her left one in his painfully delicate grip and lifts it to his eyes.
“You belong to Sheppard!”
“You remember John?”
His smile if full of light. “I remember this piece. And… Sheppard? Yes. Gentri could not stop speaking of him. She is a young one… full of ideals… romantics. And Pela… my wife has her own dreams for Gentri. When you’re man returned I understood much better.” His eyes glitter with amusement. “I see you know the feeling well.”
The heat of a blush rises in her cheeks. Yes, just one look at John Sheppard is enough to set a woman’s – no matter the age – heart all aflutter. Aside from his gorgeous looks, he exudes compassion, empathy and warmth… passion. Plus, he’s a natural flirt, which only makes resisting him futile.
“And you, young one. I do recall meeting you sometime later. The two of you together. Yes. Yes. Gentri’s young heart was wounded, but she saw the fire within you both.”
Crap! Gentri had a crush on John and the moment she saw him with Angie she got her heart broken. Now what do I do? She probably hates me. “I actually came to speak with her. Is she here?”
Berat turns and calls out. “Pela. Where is Gentri?”
A gray-haired woman about the same age as Berat appears from behind a thin, tan curtain, drying her hands on a cloth. “What are you bellowing old man?”
He practically shoves Angie’s hand at the woman. “This is the love of Sheppard.”
The old woman’s hands flutter to her mouth as she covers a gasp. “Bless the Ancestors, you are real.” Angie’s confusion must show on her face. She’s never met this woman, but obviously Gentri and the old man have spoken to her about John. Pela giggles like a child. “His reverence for you is unmatched. I was certain you had to be a visali.
“Visali?”
Berat motions to his head. “In slumber…visions…?”
“Oh? A dream.” So she thought John was nutso and I was a figment of his imagination? Just what did he say about me? “No…I’m real enough.”
“Oh yes. Gentri spoke highly of you as well. Merely an old woman’s notions. You are a vision, are you not, dear child.” She comes closer then, taking Angie’s hand away from Berat and giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “I can see why he spoke of you the way he did. It was I who introduced him to Gentri. I never let the child meet new customers without me.”
Angie nods. Of course. John being John wooed this woman to his bidding. Given the sly look in the old woman’s eyes, however, Angie’s certain Pela had designs on John for her granddaughter; until he spoke of Angie, that is.
“Gentri!” The woman hollered. “Come child.” They wait several moments in silence, simply smiling at each other pleasantly. Pela’s second bellow “Gentri!” makes Angie jump slightly.
The pretty young girl, maybe no more than nineteen sweeps aside the curtain as she comes through, her head down, gazing intently at something cradled in both her hands. “Have you seen the like of this matter, Great Mother?”
The old woman wraps her arm around Gentri’s shoulders and gives her a gentle push forward. “Put that aside for now, child. This is Sheppard’s love.”
Gentri’s head comes up. She smiles brightly. “Angie.” The stone in her hand forgotten, the young woman grabs Angie in a tight, friendly hug. It throws her off her game. After what Berat mentioned about the girl’s crush, Angie wouldn’t have been surprised by a slap in the face. “How are you? How is John? Are you set for the binding ceremony? I have some wonderful pieces if you’re interested…”
Angie holds up a hand stopping the exuberant girl’s easy sell. “Can we speak in private?”
Gentri’s must sense the desperation in Angie’s tone because her face becomes serious and she passes the stone to her grandfather. “Hold this dear one. I will be back shortly.” Looping her arm though Angie’s she leads the way outside.
They walk away from the crowds, around the tiny building that not only houses the business but their home as well. Gentri, so much more mature than any 19-year-old on Earth, ushers Angie to a patio with a little table and two chairs. The table is strewn with rough cut rocks, some the likes Angie has never seen before. Gentri pushes them aside and motions for Angie to sit. “What has happened? Is John safe?”
Angie nods. “Fine… fine.” She can’t help the trembling that enters her voice. “It’s me, Gentri. There is something I must know. What did John use to compensate you for my ring?”
Gentri slides her eyes away from Angie, looking guilty all of a sudden. “I am not certain I remember. It was long ago.”
Angie takes the woman’s hands. “Please. It is very important.”
Gentri’s eyes return and lock on Angie’s. “He asked me never to speak of it to you. As part of our bargain.”
So, John knew she would react this way. Of course he knew. It’s not like she’s the paragon of restraint and stability.
“You are the fire of his life, Angie. You know this. We bartered for many days. He did not have much in the way of trade that would be useful to me. My ways are different from others here. It is not only the item for which the owner offers… but the spirit the item holds within.” She makes a face. “Great Mother calls me a senseless child when she hears of my notions. But Great Father understands. Mother… my mother was a seer…” she says quietly. Angie’s brows shoot up. “I am not… but at times I do feel… different about items that come into my possession.” She catches Angie’s gaze and holds it. “Some feel wrong… Wraith almost…”
“Evil,” Angie offers. “They make you feel sick maybe.”
“Yes. I cannot bring myself to ever touch them. To work with them or blend with others… it would destroy the precious gift. You understand?”
“I do.” The trade with John had to be something he valued but also something that was pure of spirit. What could be more pure than his best friends’ Purple Hearts.
“When he first brought the items, he only offered one. I could see in his eyes how difficult the choice was. And when I touched one, it did not feel whole.”
“You needed both?”
“They did not feel the way they should when separated. Together… the spirit was strong. John uncovered both, identical in nature… he said they were the hearts of his friends.”
Angie’s sharp intake of breath only partially stunts the whimper that escapes. “Oh God.”
Gentri must see the pain in her eyes. She leans in, eager to appease. “He said they would understand. They would encourage such an exchange because they loved him so. Because they would bless this binding.”
Angie’s racing heart stutters. He said that? John would know, wouldn’t he? If they were his best friends, he would know their wishes…
“It was difficult to part with the items,” Gentri says. “That was clear. But when he spoke of you… I must admit to jealousy, Angie. He is very much the man I would pray to the Ancestors to give.”
Angie nods. “Yes…” She understands all too well. And it makes her heart swell with pride even as it breaks for John. He’s given up so much for her. What has she ever done for him that could make up for it?
“When I finally saw you together, it made my heart hurt. Not out of jealousy –” she grins shyly. “Not only out of jealousy, I should say. Again. It was like the items. Apart they were not complete. Together the spirit was strong. It is the same with you and John. I knew one thing when I saw you together… I wish to have such joy in my life some day.” Gentri pats Angie’s hand before rising. She returns a moment later with a plate of cookies and a cup of water. “You do not look well, Angie. Has something happened?”
Has something happened? Understatement of the millennium there, kid. Joy? How about utter heartache, pain, anger, regret… unrelenting passion… to-die-for love…I do have all of that… including the joy. God, how could I have been so stupid? How could I have let John even think I wouldn’t take him back? Yes, he made a mistake, but for Gods sakes, the man was alone for six months! And something tells me that woman! had more to do with this than I wanted to admit. John told me he wanted to explain. If there’s more to it, then he damn well better. And I’m gonna damn well let him!
Gentri presses a cookie into her hand. “Eat.” Then pushes the cup toward her. “You will feel better. Then we’ll speak more. I will return in a moment.”
She pushes the cookie past her lips; it’s dry but melts like butter against her tongue. She’s been feeling off since they came to Belkan. No… since Ronon dragged her into the saloon. Her emotions have gone wild in the past hour. One minute she’s so in love with John she can’t stand being away from him and the next, she’s just as eager to run and hide. Then all she wants to do is kill him for straying, for giving up on her.
Maybe she’s finally gone over the bend. Maybe this is what crazy really feels like!
John Sheppard is an honorable man. An honorable, healthy man… stuck in some weird-ass place with some alien ho probably bent on getting in his pants before she loses the chance by ascending. I know I would be if someone that gorgeous showed up on my doorstep.
She chuckles quietly. Isn’t that exactly what happened the night they got together?
And it took him five months to give in. How long had that woman actually been working on him, breaking him down, possibly doing a strip tease right in front of him for all Angie knew. John may be a manly-man, but put a naked woman in front of him and his brain fries. He just doesn’t get what he does to women in general.
Absently, Angie munches on the cookie and sips the cool water. As she’s waiting, her fingers drift to the rocks on the table. They’re rough and dirty. They look quite old, as if they’ve been buried for a long time in a mountain. A few she recognizes as quartz – from her high school geology days. The others are so obviously alien in texture and color. She picks one up even as she eats more of the cookie. The light catches in a crevice, sending a sparkle of color back out. Angie gasps at the beauty she’s holding. It could be a diamond for all she knows.
“They amaze me as well,” Gentri says as she retakes her seat. “I have yet to find a way to uncover their truest inner beauty, without destroying it, I’m afraid.”
Angie sets the rock down. “What do you mean?”
Gentri lifts and drops a shoulder. “I find some of them to be very delicate, easily damaged, while others withstand harsher treatment. It is difficult to determine which process to use until the top layers have been removed. And yet my method of removing the outer layers usually damages the most delicate of materials.”
Gentri slides her hand over to Angie. When she lifts it she leaves the hearts on the table. Angie tentatively touches the medals. She raises her eyes to Gentri, unable to hide the tears that once again shock her. “You’ve not done anything to them.”
Gentri smiles, shaking her head. “I could not bring myself to. Perhaps in time, I would have managed to use them in some form. Smelting is a new process for me. However, the pigment–” she gently traces the purple enamel. “It is one I have yet to recreate. I could not bring myself to destroy such a treasure.” Gentri catches Angie’s hand again, giving it a squeeze. “Perhaps… you would be willing to trade for these items.”
Angie glances at her ring, but Gentri covers that hand easily. “Never would I accept such a trinket,” she says with a wry grin. “It has no value here.”
Angie giggles and Gentri joins her. She glances at the rocks again and a thought strikes her. “Tell me about this process you use on your stones.”
Rodney, Ronon and Teyla are on their way out of the tavern when Angie saunters through the front door. With hands firmly on her hips, she raises her brows to them. “Are we going to save the day or not?”
Ronon grins. “Told you I would find her.” Rodney huffs and rolls his eyes. Only moments before, Ronon was glaring and snarling at him for not taking better care of Angie. He stomped down the stairs, ushering both Rodney and Teyla toward the entrance, growling an impressive: “I will find her.”
Rodney looks her over, seeing a glint of mischievousness in her eyes as well as the ring glistening on her finger where it should be. She’s back to normal – or as close to it as Angie ever gets – which only proves his theory about what caused her mood swing in the first place. Carson would be so proud of him. Though, in all actuality, it’s only because he remembered seeing a similar reaction from his mother at one time, though far less drastic.
Angie smiles, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes are still a little swollen from crying, but the sparkle he witnessed earlier while they were walking in from the gate has returned. What really catches his eye is the little black node atop her right ear. “Since when did you start wearing a radio?”
“Since we started hanging out on PXT-705 again. Leave it to you to not notice these things, McKay. I also have a GDO.”
He crosses his arms. “Really? Where?”
Angie smirks, arching a single brow then turns her back on all of them, marching out of the tavern. He knows he shouldn’t be looking, but he can’t help it. Where the hell is she hiding the GDO? There are no extra bulges or bumps detracting from her decidedly curvy form. A moment later he feels the sharp smack of Ronon’s palm against the back of his head. “She’s taken, for one thing.”
“Ow!”
“And she’s my sister for another.”
Rodney rubs his head. “Right. Sorry.”
Teyla follows Ronon out. “Close your mouth Dr. McKay. It is unsightly to gape and stare.”
“I wasn’t!” Okay, maybe I was…just a little.
They aren’t greeted at the gate when they arrive on Lartnec Msagro, though that doesn’t strike Angie as odd. What does is Teyla’s constant insistence that they not mention Atlantis or Dr. Weir being the leader of the expedition.
“Shouldn’t you tell this Lord Treyhil that you do not speak for all of the Lanteans?” Ronon asks.
“What is the big deal?” McKay asks. “I mean, really. Someone’s bound to notice that Angie and I aren’t exactly attired in the Pegasus Galaxy’s rags–” Angie glares at him and he amends words quickly. “General best.”
Something in Teyla’s manner, the way she’s carrying herself, tells Angie they should not be arguing the point. McKay is simply being his usual annoying self, so Angie stops in front of him with a hand up. “If she says don’t say anything, then just don’t say anything, got it? Geez, how hard can that be?”
McKay points to her clothes. “But–”
“If anyone asks, we’re refugees from I-zoola that the Athosian’s have taken in.” She takes off her radio and opens her hand waiting for Rodney to pass his over. Ronon isn’t wearing his and Teyla has already removed hers and hidden it somewhere unseen.
“And what if they’ve been to I-zoola? Hmm?”
“It’s a space gate, McKay. Think about it.”
McKay grumbles under his breath as he hands over the earwig. A quick slap upside the head from Ronon stops the mumbled complaining. “Why do you insist on doing that?”
“Because Sheppard is not here to do it.” Which makes Angie and Teyla chuckle.
It feels good to laugh, especially after that crazy episode she had on Belkan. Still don’t know where that came from. But she’s better now. More focused. And her conversation with Gentri couldn’t have gone better. They came to a wonderful agreement and Angie can’t wait to get back to Atlantis and put everything together.
“Angie!”
A hand on her arm pulls her up just as she is about to do a face-plant. Ronon’s painful grip on her upper arm relaxes. “What’s wrong?”
Angie shakes her head. “Sorry… lost in thought.”
Ronon grunts a ‘hrmph’ then proceeds with the walk, though he keeps his eyes on her. The trek from the gate is rather short – maybe ten minutes – but visually impressive given the thick fields of green grass and flowers. The smells, the bright sunshine, it reminds her of Earth like no other planet has.
In the distance she can see the kingdom, as Teyla called it. Her heartbeat skips. Angie feels like she’s just stepped back in time to the Renaissance period. It’s even more stimulating as they make their way through the large front gates.
A pleasant tingle surges under her skin as they pass through and McKay makes a quick “hmm” sound. She turns to him, expecting some appreciation for the architecture, but instead he’s looking at his watch and then checking over the city with that scientific gaze she knows so well.
People mingle around wearing elaborate robe dresses or tunics, finely stitched and made of rich, vibrant colors. Everyone looks clean and beautifully coifed, as if they have no cares in the world. They seem unafraid of strangers and offer them welcoming smiles, even McKay. Several children rush up to stare and point at Teyla and Angie, though they are mindful of Ronon and do not come too close. This has to be the most relaxed and open group of people she’s ever come across since arriving in this galaxy.
“Are they all on drugs?” McKay’s never been one to sensor his thoughts.
“They do not fear the Wraith,” Teyla says softly.
“And why not?”
“As I understand it, they are immune to culling.”
Rodney stops in his tracks. “Immune?”
Teyla nods. “As Ronon is.”
Angie leans in to Teyla as they continue through the growing crowd. She smiles at the people, but keeps her eyes wary for sudden changes in attitude. “So why don’t the Wraith do what they did to Sateda?”
“This I do not know.” Teyla leads them to the largest building and the doors part for them by unseen hands. It looks like the main greeting hall: an elaborate building with colorful fabrics, beautiful sculptures and enormous candelabras. The ceilings and walls are covered with intricate paintings ranging from picture perfect landscapes to surreal fantasy.
Something tells me these people have access to space travel. Though from the look of it, they certainly don’t flaunt technology. No electricity to speak of, at least that Angie can see. She nudges McKay. “Okay, don’t mention I-zoola,” she whispers. McKay’s about to respond when…
“Teyla Emmagan!” A deep, resonate voice calls from the other end of the chamber. Angie stops short upon hearing the voice; it makes her spine shudder with delight. Okay, that’s just weird.
McKay comes to a halt right behind her. Ronon stops at Angie’s side, his hand immediately going to her upper arm…possessively. He probably wants to do the exact same thing to Teyla, but knows she would never stand for that. Angie, on the other hand, he pretty much man-handles as he wishes. She doesn’t mind it so much. It warms her heart being under his protection; reminds her of her father… and of Jack.
Teyla continues forward alone as the man-with-the-voice-of-a-god glides down from his perch among many beautiful women who clearly adore him. And why wouldn’t they? “Lord Treyhil. It has been many days.”
A shimmering sapphire robe flows out behind him in grand fashion. He reaches for Teyla with both hands and Angie can’t stop the gasp that escapes when he smiles. She even feels McKay’s heavy exhale against her neck.
Now, Ronon is gorgeous beyond belief, John is devastatingly beautiful, but this man. Oh. My. Gawd! Long silky black hair sways around his shoulders as he moves. He’s tan in… well everywhere that’s visible above the brim of his silken black pants. And from what she can tell, he goes commando. Damn! Angie gets the distinct feeling this visual man-treat has been on the cover of many a bodice ripper back in the Milky Way Galaxy.
He’s approximately the same height and build of Ronon – though he lacks the cool dreadlocks and beard – including the perfect abs, only his are revealed for all to admire. But it’s his eyes that are mesmerizing. A light golden brown or amber. They are full of life and the delight he takes in it. “What brings you to our humble grounds, milady?”
Angie nearly chokes on the term ‘humble grounds’. This place is amazing; sensuous, relaxing, hypnotizing almost.
Teyla stands her ground, though clearly drawn by Treyhil’s magnetism.
That’s what it is! Holy crap. The realization is like a cup of ice water in her face. He’s me! Treyhil is a pheromone machine. He probably doesn’t even know it.
“We are in need of a potion. There has been an… outbreak of the Neddles in our community.” Teyla explains.
“Ahh,” Treyhil and Teyla come to a stop in front of the rest of them. “I see you have not been afflicted.”
“No. We were on a trade mission and received word before returning.”
Treyhil smiles again. He throws open his arms. “How fortunate! You must introduce your fellow travelers so that we may feast with our new friends.”
“We do need to help our community–” Teyla starts.
Treyhil waves a hand. “But of course. I will have the potion tended to immediately. It will take little time.” Without turning, he snaps his fingers and three of the sitting women rush off; they are beyond silent as they float away on their tip-toes: ballet dancers of the Pegasus Galaxy.
His eyes land on Angie’s and she can feel them delving into her mind, as if he’s trying to work some subliminal magic on her. His smile falters slightly when she raises her don’t-even-try-to-fuck-with-me brow; even as her insides turn to jelly. “Who is this magnificent creature?” He asks as he takes Angie’s hand and brings it to his lips, though his eyes do not leave hers. She feels a whimper caught in her throat.
His lips are so full and sensual she just wants to suck on them for all eternity! His silky soft fingers caress her hand as he holds it to his lips and there’s something decidedly naughty in that thing he’s doing with this thumb. It makes her mind all fuzzy… like when John touches her.
Angie slides her hand from his grasp, he doesn’t resist her pulling away, but she sees the glint of a challenge in his eyes. He’s amused by her.
Ronon’s grip on her arm tightens, though it doesn’t hurt, he merely pulls her an inch or so away from Treyhil. “This is Angela.”
“Angela,” Treyhil sighs her name and it sounds magical and she can’t help the blush that rises in her cheeks.
McKay takes a step around and then in front of her. “Rodney McKay,” he says, dropping the doctor for some reason.
Treyhil’s gaze dances from Angie’s to Ronon’s then to McKay’s before he laughs loud and long. It rumbles pleasantly throughout the chamber, sending another pleasurable tickle along Angie’s spine. “I see.” He says to Angie. “You are not only claimed, but coveted as well…” His gaze drifts to McKay again. “I understand.”
Angie’s eyes widen and she looks from Ronon to McKay in turn. She wrinkles her nose as Treyhil’s words make their impact. “Ewww!” Angie says, making Ronon chuckle and McKay stammer with refusals.
Treyhil’s brows furrow and Teyla steps up to explain. “Angie is Ronon’s family and Rodney is a fellow companion.”
He laughs again. “Forgive my indiscretion… Ronon.”
“Specialist Ronon Dex,” he growls. “Of Sateda.”
Treyhil’s smile lessens. There’s unmistakable compassion and possibly admiration in his gaze now. “You are most welcome here, Specialist Dex.” He bows his head slightly. His gaze falls on Angie again. Those eyes lit with mischief.
Ronon takes a protective step forward. “You are correct, however. She is claimed by another. Someone I honor.”
Treyhill nods at Ronon almost imperceptibly. Angie catches the look in his eyes that was meant for Ronon’s confirmation alone. She’s instantly relieved that Treyhill does not intend to challenge Ronon. She is relieved to no end, considering…Damn! This guy’s got a lot goin’ on. And if this is what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a pheromone machine? She’s suddenly got a new respect for the likes of the others on Atlantis who manage to still treat her like a human. Especially those who get the negative effects.
Oh man…is this what I do to Lorne? She’s known for a while that the adorable Major has a crush on her, though she’s pretty sure it’s all chemically related and not under his control, just like many others. But seriously, if what has just happened to her in mere seconds of being in Treyhil’s company…I’ve gotta stay away from the poor man.
She takes another look at Treyhil, then instantly steps back into the protection of Ronon because she knows that if she’s not careful; if she let herself even consider the possibility… she’d do anything for this stranger. She’d walk on hot coals and crawl over broken glass to get him to touch her…Is this what it’s like for John? Is this why he can’t say no to me when I want him all the time?
John. She pictures his face and everything else fades away. His lips are far more sensuous than Treyhil’s. And only John’s touch gives her what she needs. What she craves every day.
John, who gave up something so precious just to prove his love to her. Even though he never bothered to let her know what he’d done.
And yet he broke her heart.
Angie twists the ring on her finger. Where it belongs. No, not broken. Scratched. Dented even. But not broken. John is her match. She has to trust in that. Believe in that. She has to believe in them.
John stalks out of the office once the wormhole establishes. “Teyla?”
“No, it’s McKay, thank you very much,” he snipes. “Lady Emmagan could not be spared from the dinner party, unfortunately.”
“Lady Emmagan?”
McKay sighs on the other end. “Yes, yes, fascinating tale of Lords and Rings, but I have your cure, so are you going to lower the shield or not?”
“Just tell me whether it’s in a glass jar before you toss it through.”
“No need for thud pillows, Colonel. I’ll roll it on in.”
John motions to Chuck. He looks as miserable as anyone else as he stops scratching long enough to press the button. The shield lowers. “It’s down. Any instructions for Beckett?” A jar similar to one made by the Athosians appears below.
“One part powder to two parts liquid, preferably water, I’m assuming, though if you’re all as bad off as Teyla has surmised, I wouldn’t begrudge anyone a shot of Huskin booze. Well, maybe Kavanaugh… but that’s just me.”
John retrieves the jar; it’s not that big. “Are you sure this is going to be enough for everyone?”
“According to Lord Treyhil, only a small dose of the liquid mixture is required, something like a couple tablespoons, I’m guessing. I’m sure Beckett can figure it out. There is a downside, however. Apparently it can take several hours for the rash to abate, however the itching should lessen almost immediately.”
“Good to know.” John hands the jar off to one of the gate soldiers. “Get this to the infirmary.”
“Yes sir.”
“So,” John starts. “How’s everything?”
“Going pretty well, I’d say, considering we’ve just made a new trading partner.”
“What’d we have to give up for this?”
“Nothing,” he laughs, sounding rather ecstatic about that. “Thanks to Teyla’s previous trade relationship with Lord Treyhil. He may require Elizabeth to do some negotiations in the future… though Teyla balked at the idea for some unknown reason. In fact, she refuses to permit us to admit we’re from Atlantis or that Elizabeth is our leader… it’s rather odd, really. Do you think Teyla might not like the idea of us usurping all of her trade partners?”
“Suppose that’s a possibility. Anything else?”
“I’m assuming you’re referring to someone as opposed to say, what’s being served for dinner, which I’m missing by the way so that I can help you keep tabs on your girlfriend–”
John clears his throat. “Open channel, McKay.”
“Like the whole city isn’t making a pool–”
“McKay!”
“Everything is peachy, Colonel. This Lord Treyhil seems to be quite the catch around here and has eyes for your fiancé but her brother has the growl and bite of a Doberman Pincher so you should have nothing to worry about in my humble opinion.”
John rubs his hand over his eyes. “Thanks for that.”
“We’ve been offered rooms for the night; I assume that is all right with you.”
“Yeah. Stay the night, it’ll give us time to get everyone treated and make sure the doses are correct.”
“Good enough. See you sometime tomorrow then.”
“Atlantis out.” Once the radio connection terminates, the wormhole disengages. John sighs. He said fiancé… still a good sign.
Rodney returns to the dining room to find everyone finished with supper and enjoying an after meal drink. He rolls his eyes. “You couldn’t have waited for me?”
Teyla motions to his seat and removes a fabric napkin from his plate. “It should still be warm,” she grins at him and he can see she’s already had too much of whatever alcohol Treyhil is serving.
Rodney rushes to Angie’s side and yanks the drink out of her hand. “What the fu–”
Ronon and Treyhil burst from their chairs spouting harsh words about his rudeness, but Rodney doesn’t care. “How much?”
“McKay!” Angie starts.
“How much did you drink?”
Her upper lip curls and her eyes narrow. “Well if you must know, they just finished filling it. I didn’t even get a sip, thanks to you.”
“Oh thank God.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Treyhil asks, obviously upset.
Rodney sees Ronon glaring at him. “It’s… I’m sorry… she’s not supposed to have anything that might be construed as alcohol.”
“Alcohol… what is this word?” Treyhil looks to Ronon and Teyla. They take turns trying to explain.
Angie turns on Rodney. “Since when?”
Rodney lowers his voice. “Since you started taking some voodoo medication…?”
The light of understanding dawns in her eyes. “Ohhhhh.” Her gaze meets his. “That’s why I…”
“Flipped out today. Got all depressed…”
“But I only had a couple sips of the ale.”
“And we all know how mild alien brew can be.”
Her brow arches. “Right.” A moment later she smiles. “Thanks, McKay.” She gives his shoulder a friendly punch. “You’re a good egg.”
“Don’t ever let anyone hear you say that.”
She crosses her heart then holds up her right hand, but she’s still smiling. “I swear.”
Rodney folds his arms and stares down at her. “Not good enough.”
Angie catches his meaning and a sly twinkle flashes in her eyes as she grins. “I promise.”
“That’ll do.” Rodney nods then returns to his seat and looks over his food. “There wouldn’t be any citrus in this by any chance?” He glances up and sees everyone staring at him. “What? Just asking.”
John stomps into the infirmary. His blood pressure it sure to be spiking. “Carson!”
The tired and harassed looking doctor shakes his head then runs both hands through his hair making it stick straight up. He looks a little like Einstein at the moment, though without the white hair and glasses… but just this side of crazy. “They’re going to be fine… a few days in the infirmary, but otherwise… the wounds are superficial.”
John clenches his fists at his sides. “I should put them in the brig for this.” Two of his best men. His trusted men started a brawl in the middle of the gate room for no reason. Someone else he might have blown it off, but Lorne and Briggs! No way in hell were they getting away with this kind of behavior. Especially since he was now sporting a hellava aching jaw from Lorne’s elbow as he pulled back to strike at Briggs.
Carson shakes his head again. “It’s not their fault, Colonel.” He’s watching John carefully. “And it’s not only them being affected… is it.”
John glances down at his clenched fists and consciously relaxes them. After a moment he groans. “No.”
“How many others?”
“Everyone’s on edge. It’s the damn itching. It’s driving us mad, I think.”
“I don’t doubt. But the rash isn’t causing the upswing in tempers. It’s something else. Some sort of reaction to the mites that caused the rash… It’s chemical. It’s not hitting everyone… mostly the men.”
“So it’s a testosterone thing?”
Carson nods. “Mostly the military types… though some of the scientists have become quite… paranoid.” It’s obvious he’s been working on the problem for a while. The poor man is unshaved and rumpled.
In fact… “How are you feeling, doc?”
“Like I’m going to claw my skin right off.” His weary blue eyes glance off John’s. “And like I want to hide under my desk.”
John advances on the man and he backs up. He’s gotten the same reaction from several people since he almost blew his top little over an hour ago. “How’s the antidote coming? If this… behavior is anyway related–”
“It is. I’ve taken blood samples. Lorne and Briggs are brimming with testosterone and adrenaline. I have no doubt the rest of us are in similar shape.”
“I seem to be managing.”
“I’m sure your fingernails digging into the fleshy part of your palms has something to do with it. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the antidepressants aren’t keeping you more stable.”
“Would they help everyone?”
“I can’t say. Perhaps.”
John takes a deep breath. He’s barely holding on to his rage. He remembers feeling this way before… when he was turning… No! He won’t give in to it. He’s in charge. “What if we confine everyone to their rooms?”
Carson stares at him for a long moment. “That’s actually not a bad idea. It should only take a few hours for me to get the antidote tested. Then we’ll go room to room giving it out. I’m going to put it in a shot so it hits the system faster. I want to make sure it’s safe that way though.”
“Test me.”
“Sorry, no can do, Colonel. You’re in charge whether you like it or not. I’ve got my ginnea pig lined up and he’s actually not as reluctant as you might think.”
“Who?”
Carson almost grins. “Kavanaugh.”
John’s brows shoot up. “Really?”
“He’s been strangely sedate since this new symptom hit. He actually is hiding under a desk.”
John snarls lightly. “Take pictures, will ya. It’ll keep McKay from bitching about being stuck off-world for the night in some hellish yak smelling tent.”
“Aye,” Carson nods.
Maybe it’s the lack of danger or maybe it was the syrupy red wine at dinner that made him sleep so heavily, but for once Rodney doesn’t care that the bed is too soft or the enormous room inside the gothic style castle is a little to chilly.
Whenever he’s off-world, he always misses the slight tingle in the back of his mind, an almost silent buzz of energy that he relates to being in Atlantis. But after dealing with Angie’s tremulous hold on reality – this one anyway – and the hike from the gate, he gladly accepted the offer of the sumptuous four-post bed, even with the romance novel canopy and silky curtains surrounding it that no man should ever have to endure. He fell asleep within moments of snuggling deep into the handmade bedding; he should have known that would be a mistake.
He feels the change in temperature against his back and turns toward it in his sleep, wrapping himself around it as much as possible. He sighs heavily, part of him awake enough to enjoy the comfort of soft human body, though he’s certain he went to bed alone.
“Umm…Mckay?”
Rodney’s eyes snap open. His arm’s draped over Angie’s stomach, his leg tangled between hers. She’s lying face up, clutching the bedding to her chest and staring up at the canopy, her eyes wide, brows furrowed. He pulls his arm free and tosses himself away so quickly he falls from the bed with a painful thud. “What the hell!” Rodney pulls himself up and crosses his arms. “This is my room. You have a room. You have a bed. Why are you hording in on mine?”
Still staring at the canopy, Angie offers a shrug. “I didn’t like mine so much.”
“Too bad Ebonilocks, go find another one… preferably one that’s not occupied… especially by me!”
Angie makes a face, clutching the comforter in her fisted hands. “I…” She slides her eyes toward Rodney only to quickly turn her face away and cover her eyes with a hand. “For God’s sakes, McKay put on some pants.”
Rodney glances down, only then realizing he’s buck naked. Damn that Cadman! It’s all her fault he started sleeping in the buff. He knows some part of her got left behind in his head. Most of the time he has to remind himself to keep on his boxers and T-shirt… he must have been really tired tonight to forget them. Instantly he makes a grab for the comforter to cover himself up, but Angie’s other hand still has a good grip on it and she won’t relent. “Let go!” He gives the cover a good hard yank and it flies at him, covering his head.
Rodney wraps the thick blanket around him. “Now. Be a good little girlie and leave so I can get back to sleep.”
Angie sits up against the pillows. She’s fully dressed, except for her boots. She’s staring down at her hands now in her lap. “I… um…” She looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Could I stay here?”
“No… this is my room.”
“I know… that’s kinda… I mean…” Her fingers pluck at some lint on her jeans and it seems to fascinate her for a long moment. Then her eyes find his again. “I don’t think it’s a good idea… me being alone… here.”
“Why not?”
“Treyhil…”
Rodney’s even more wide awake than before. “Did he try something? Go wake up Teyla. Or let Ronon–”
She holds up a hand. “No.” Shaking her head, she sighs heavily. “It’s not him, McKay. Or, well, it is him, but it’s really me… or what…” Rodney watches her. She’s nervous, shaking slightly. “It’s what he does to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t…” Another sigh. “Like what happened to me with the honeymoon doohickey. He’s got it naturally.”
“Pheromones? That’s just an…” Rodney looks her over. Her wide eyes, the shaking hands. She looks like someone in need of a fix. “Crap.”
Angie nods. “Big time.” Her voice is soft, trembling.
“Well… you can’t sleep here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m sleeping here. Go wake up Ronon. Or Teyla.”
“They’re sharing a room.”
“Oh.”
Angie glances at him before returning her attention to her fidgeting fingers. “I figured… this would be a safe bet. I mean… you and me… we’ve spent time together before. You’re not affected by the whole hormonal thing… plus…”
“Plus what?”
“I thought, you know, we were friends now…” Her gaze rests on his, all hopeful and childlike. Rodney hates it when women act like this, trying to get their way through feminine wiles.
But that’s not Angie. She’s a straight shooter. She says what’s on her mind, damn the consequences. And she looks really… scared right now. Like she’s afraid she might do something wrong. Do someone, maybe.
With a burdened exhale, Rodney rolls his eyes. “I suppose you can sleep on the floor.”
“What!”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to. As I’ve stated this is my room. You’re the interloper… you get the floor.”
“McKay. This is a huge bed. Are you telling me you need to take up the whole space?”
Rodney glances at the bed… with Angie sitting on it, her long, slim legs stretched out and remembers the lovely warmth he felt when he snuggled close to her. Dammit! “Yes.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously and her mouth gapes open. “When was the last time you got laid?”
“What! That is none of your business.”
“Damn… it’s been a while then, huh.”
“Look here, missy…”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Forget it, McKay. Obviously you’re so hard up that the fact that you’d even look at me twice makes me think the cold, hard floor sounds pretty good about now.” She slides off the bed, grabbing a pillow as she goes. “Just for the record, though. There are plenty of women on Atlantis not interested in anything but a quick fix of their own. If you want names…”
“Really?”
She smiles slyly. “Can I have the bed?”
“No.”
Angie shrugs. “You’re loss.”
Rodney feels a growl rumbling in his gut. He really does need to get laid. It’s been so long… and with all his friends getting personal attention... it’s just not fair! And Angie’s right. He’s not looking for a huge commitment, but a nice tumble isn’t too much to ask for is it?
“All right,” he says through clenched teeth. “I’ll take the floor.”
“Nonsense. You take that side.” She pointed at the bed. “And I’ll take this side. We’ll put pillows between us if that makes you feel any safer.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Sure you’re not,” she flashes a wicked grin that makes his body twitch.
If only she was blond and not engaged and not Ronon’s adopted sister… and not such a humungous pain in his ass! “These better be some damn good names. Let’s here ‘em.”
“I’ll give you one tonight… but if you go all McKay on her when we get back, I’m sure that will put out any fire she might have for sex at the moment.” Angie slides back onto the bed. Rodney’s about to do the same when she holds up a hand. “Not that I don’t trust you, McKay… but put some clothes on will ya? It’s… it’s for the best.”
“Right. Fine.” Rodney turns toward the chair that has his clothes and trips over the end of the comforter. He sprawls onto the floor, finding it very cold and hard. “Ow!”
“You okay?” Angie asks through her laughter.
Rodney rolls over, trapped in the comforter and glares death daggers at her, but that doesn’t stop her from laughing.
Angie sinks into the bed, rolling onto her side, her back to McKay and closes her eyes. Her body refuses to relax and her mind is spinning. How could she let that happen? Let him get that close to her? Damn those hormones. Damn it all to hell.
She can still feel his fingers on her arms, squeezing but still gentle. The trace of his lips as they lingered on her mouth. He’d pushed for the kiss but she hadn’t resisted. She couldn’t resist. Not him. Only John’s face in her mind pulled her back from the brink. She still wanted Treyhil… with every cell of her body she wanted him. She wanted him to use her up, make her do whatever he wanted.
But that’s not me! I’m not that person. And yet in that man’s presence she wasn’t anything but that woman. Just a silly girl who wanted nothing more than to be fucked mercilessly by the Adonis in silk pants. To feel that long black hair in her hands. To take that impressive bulge she felt against her stomach inside and…
No! Her body still trembles with the shock of it. He’d only kissed her for Gods sake. It wasn’t even a deep kiss, nothing more than a peck, really. Yeah, keep telling yourself that!
At least there weren’t tongues involved. That would have made her misery complete. If she’d welcomed such an intrusion she’d never be able to face John again.
John. Angie sighs. She can’t wait to get home to John. Feel him against her. Touch his silky black hair. Kiss him like there’s no tomorrow.
Because if she stays here, there won’t be. Not for her and John. Not if Treyhil gets close to her again.
Angie feels the dip in the mattress when McKay finally joins her and then the soft flop of the comforter over her shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it… to anyone,” he says firmly.
Angie turns to her other side, facing him. “What’s wrong, McKay. Afraid someone might think I seduced you?”
“No.”
“Yes you are. Haven’t you heard the rumors? I’m the female slut of Atlantis. I’ve laid claim to Ronon, John, Carson, Lorne and apparently Kavanaugh, though I think he started that one. Piggy Bastard. I’ve got taste after all.”
“Aren’t you also having at it with Teyla, Elizabeth and Cadman?”
She smirks. “Heard that one too, did you?”
“Also Dr. Heightmeyer and Radek.”
“Hmm… that’s new.” Her smile grows devious. “So I guess, you’re all that’s left.”
“I’m certain you can restrain yourself.”
She huffs a laugh. “I’ll try.”
McKay turns on his side so that they’re face-to-face. “So who’s my mystery future sex partner?”
“I never said she was in your future. I said she was looking for convenient pleasure and no commitment. You have to do the hard work of convincing her you’re worth the effort. And by that, I mean… don’t act like you usually do around women.”
He screws up his face. “What’s that… never mind. Just give me a name. Maybe she won’t even appeal to me.”
“Oh...? You really think you’d turn down Maddog if she wanted a quicky?”
“Maddog…? Oh, Seargent Fuller… isn’t she making the rounds of the scientists anyway?”
Angie shakes her head a little. “She’s tried. No warm bodies have made the effort yet. Besides, she’s strictly into stick driving.”
“What?”
“Het, McKay. She’s after a man. Most of the scientists are female if you haven’t noticed. Which I’m sure you haven’t given that you’re the only scientist of consequence.”
“Hmm. I like that. I think I’ll have that put on a T-shirt.”
“You would.”
“You said it.”
“I said you thought it. Not that I agreed.”
“Oh, how you wound me. I’m your favorite and you know it.”
Angie sneers at him. “You’re passable but Radek is my fluffy bunny. He likes to watch me skate and he made that great sound system on I-zoola for me.”
“Only because he has time to waste on such fruitless endeavors. I’m–”
“An egomaniac with a superiority complex that out-superiors even the Wraith?”
He glares. “Busy.”
“Uh huh.” She tugs the comforter closure. “It’s cold in here.”
He rubs a firm hand up and down her arm trying to warm her a bit. “Not really. You’re coming down from your scare.”
“I wasn’t scared.”
“Really. So you crawled into bed with me in the middle of the night because…?”
She bites her bottom lip, lowering her eyes from his probing blue ones. Of everyone, McKay seems to be able to make sense of her weird moods. And as obnoxious as he is, Angie knows deep down that McKay is a good man. He cares for John and Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon and by extension of them, he’s been taking good care of her. Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes for a moment and the scene with Treyhil slams into her brain. Shaking it off, she looks at McKay again and he’s staring at her with worry in his eyes. “I was scared.”
“What happened?”
“Treyhil showed me to my room after we left Ronon and Teyla. We were alone. It was…” She can still feel the electric-like thrill she got from his touch. The intense need to be taken she hadn’t known since the beginning of her relationship with John. “I can’t explain it really. But I think he felt it too. Whatever it was… it scared us both. Like if we ever got together it would…” she laughs wildly, almost hysterically. “Like it would destroy the universe or something.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Not dramatic. Metaphoric maybe. Whatever mojo that guys got is powerful stuff, McKay. Put him in Atlantis for one day and most of the women would simply fall over from visual orgasms… some of the men too, no doubt.”
“Nice imagery.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Speaking of orgasms. What’s up with Fuller? I know she’s crazy – Maddog, call-sign not withstanding – do you think she’d really be willing?”
“Oh, it depends. If we blindfold her maybe.” The petulant frown that sours his expression actually bothers her. He looks like a little boy being reprimanded. “Just kidding, Rodney. And even if she’s not, there are plenty of women on Atlantis who think you’d be the catch of the galaxy.”
“Really? Me?”
“Sure – manic-genius disease not withstanding–”
“It’s not a disease–”
“Too bad. Those can generally be cured. Whoever gets stuck with you will have to be immune already.”
“Very amusing.”
“I thought so. Now. Here’s the game plan. We get back to Atlantis tomorrow. I’ll chat up Sharon, feel her out. But you have to promise something.”
“What?”
“Don’t be all… McKay… if she’s willing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t be such a gigantic pain in the ass. Just be… Rodney. He’s a nice enough guy… kind of sweet actually when it’s all said and done.”
He rolls away in a huff. “That has to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” But she catches a glimpse of a smile before he turns his back on her.
Smiling and finally chill free, Angie rolls to her side of the bed. “’night Rodney.”
“’night,” he says through a yawn.
Ronon pounds on the solid wood door and the sound echoes in the stone hallway of Treyhil’s fortress. Teyla glances over her shoulder toward the other end of the corridor: the room Treyhil informed her had been provided for Angie last night. Ronon wasn’t happy to find the room empty this morning; the bed obviously had not been slept in. But Teyla was able to stall him from going after Treyhil for the moment; convincing him that they may need Rodney’s help in finding his missing sibling.
“McKay!” Ronon bellows.
Teyla touches his arm. “I’m sure she is well. There is no reason to worry.”
Ronon spares her a glance but doesn’t say anything as the door finally opens and he pushes his way inside only for them both to be bombarded by Rodney’s voice in mid-rant.
“…crawling around on a freezing stone floor with medieval dust bunnies isn’t what I’d call–”
“Rodney?” Teyla calls, her eyes searching the room for the man behind the bluster.
His head pops up on the far side of the disheveled bed where he appears to be kneeling. He’s obviously stunned to see Ronon and her in the open doorway, but no more so than Teyla is when she realizes Angie opened the door for them.
Rodney jumps to his feet and rounds the bed quickly, holding his hands up as if to ward off an attack. “Whoa…nonono, this is not what it looks like.” He’s sleep-rumpled, barefoot, wearing black shorts with yellow happy faces and a white T-shirt. “I mean I’d never… and the bed is really big and I was sound asleep the whole night–”
Ronon’s brows rise as his eyes narrow on the flustered scientist. The muscle in his jaw twitches because his teeth are noticeably clenched.
“Okay, well not the whole night… not that I was awake doing… anything… well, I mean–” Rodney pauses only momentarily to glance at Angie who’s leaning against the wall near the door, pulling on one boot then the other and proceeds to tie the laces as Rodney’s anxious words fill the room, spilling in a never-ending river. “Talking!” Rodney blurts loudly. “We talked… for a while and nothing… Nothing else! I just can’t seem to find my pants,” he glances over his shoulder. “Not that I wasn’t wearing pants. Okay, I wasn’t wearing my pants, or much else at the time–” his hands fly up again and he waves them in defense. “Because of Cadman! But that’s not the point. You see I was sleeping, quite soundly for some strange reason, even though the bed is really soft and the room is kind of cold, I was so tired–”
“McKay!” Ronon’s sharpness even makes Teyla jump. That muscle seems to be twitching even more, but there’s something in Ronon’s eyes that surprises her.
She glances at Angie and sees the same twinkle in his sister’s eyes. She’s finished tying her boots and is leaning against the wall, biting her bottom lip so hard it’s turning white. Her arms are wrapped around her waist as if she’s trying to keep the visible shaking under control and Teyla has no doubt it is from nothing other than her attempt to hold in laughter.
Rodney’s face pales. “…aaahh, yes?”
Teyla is finding it very difficult to overcome her sudden mirth as well. Taking her cue from Angie, she bites her lip too.
Rodney’s obviously waiting for Ronon to say or do something and he’s on edge. He’s not quivering with fear but his eyes are bouncing around the room as if looking for an alternate exit through which to escape.
Ignoring Rodney, Ronon turns to Angie and in the voice he reserves for her, says: “Treyhil?”
“Treyhil.”
Ronon nods. “Let’s go home.”
Teyla understands all too well. She did not miss the tension that passed between the Overlord and Angie the previous day. His draw is very hard to resist, even she has difficulty coming here. Only having Ronon’s strong arms about her throughout the night kept her from seeking out the man who once made her…Teyla shakes off the thought. That is in the past.
They all start for the door, Rodney following sheepishly. As they step out of the room, Ronon grumbles: “McKay… pants!”
“Oh, yes…right.” And he darts back into the room to find them.
As they wait in the corridor, Angie cannot hold it in any longer and bursts into giggles. Teyla laughs with her, both of them turning to Ronon, who’s grinning from ear to ear and shaking his head.
In the dining hall, the large table is decorated with various foods for the morning meal. The team declines sitting with their host. Or more accurately, Teyla diplomatically informs Treyhil that they wish to return home as quickly as possible.
He does not seem offended by their desire to depart without repast. Treyhil offers them to take what they want of the food for their trip even though the gate is less than fifteen minutes from the kingdom. It seems the Overlord is rather out of sorts, his dark eyes usually brilliantly lit with amusement and joy for life have taken a despondent, tired turn, as if he has not slept in days. His attention stays on Teyla and does not waver toward the others.
“Are you feeling unwell, Lord Treyhil?” Teyla asks quietly while the rest of the team chooses breads and fruit for their journey.
His smile is genuine but also tinged with something akin to sadness. “I am not myself, I’m afraid. Forgive me, Lady Teyla.”
She offers him a smile in return. “Whatever for? Your hospitality? Your help for my people? There is nothing to forgive. You have always been such a good friend to me. Please… may I help you in any way?”
Finally, his gaze flits to Angie. She is grinning over the available foods while making slight of Rodney’s apparent derisive comments. The two have yet to stop bickering since Rodney’s appearance in the hallway fully dressed. Both Teyla and Ronon could only roll their eyes and ignore the childish antics that the other two seem eager to revel within. It has become quite apparent, at least to Teyla that something has shifted between Rodney and Angela. They seem to have bonded in a new way.
This is not what has bothered their host, however. Teyla understands immediately what has unsettled Treyhil. She turns back to him. “I must ask for your forgiveness now,” Teyla says.
“For?”
“You desire Angela strongly, do you not?”
He tears his eyes from the other woman and stares at Teyla. “I do not have the option for such things, Lady Teyla. You understand what my family’s legacy to the kingdom requires. The Overlord is forbidden from such musings as…”
“A single mate.” She nods. “I remember well.” There had been a short time in Teyla’s early years as an enchanted young woman who dreamed of Treyhil bonding with her. Futile as a dream could ever be, she had held such thoughts in her heart and mind for a long time. Treyhil had been her first love. Though their coming together had only been part of the negotiations for their people to remain trading partners as she became leader of Athos, it had been a night like no other. She would forever remember her first time at Treyhil’s knowledgeable hands, mouth and body.
His smooth hand gentles her cheek, flaming a long burning fire in the pit of her stomach. “Had I been permitted, you know I would have begged for your hand.”
Teyla’s heart flutters. “Thank you for your kind words.”
“Kindness has no part in the matter, Teyla. You are a miraculous warrior, leader and amazing woman. Any kingdom could only benefit from your contributions. And any man would forever adore you as his own.” His gaze drifts to Ronon. “As I am sure you recognize in your Satedan mate.”
Teyla follows his line of site. Ronon is teasing Angie about something, though his attention never excludes Teyla or Treyhil. He is forever watchful of all situations, but especially of her. He’s claimed her as his mate and she knows he would do anything for her. Part of her wishes he would not. She’s still uncertain why she’s holding back from him.
Perhaps a conversation with Kate upon returning to Atlantis would help her sort out her feelings.
At present, though, she must help Treyhil. “It is not unusual for Angela to stir up such longings.”
“She has many pursuers then?”
Teyla sighs. “Recently. I am not educated in the same way as your people. Perhaps you will understand if I mention this… connection you feel with her is…as if she has bathed in Kilpar.”
“Has she?”
Teyla shakes her head. “Something did… change her a while ago. It has created quite a stir among our people. But know that it is not on purpose. She has no control over such reactions and wishes they did not exist.”
“And she has a mate,” he says firmly.
“Yes. Someone to which she has forever lost her heart.”
“This… change… was due to a device created by the Ancestors?”
Teyla’s brows shoot up before she can contain her reaction. “Device?”
Treyhil’s lips twitch as if he’s hiding a smile. “It is well known that the city of the Ancestors has been recovered by some from another galaxy. It is also known a Satedan has joined them, as well as an Athosian leader to battle the Wraith. And try as you might to convince others, those two–” he motions to Rodney and Angie. “–could never be from any of our worlds.” Before Teyla can say anything, Treyhil holds up a hand. “Fear not, milady. Our trade arrangements remain. As does my word to keep certain knowledge to myself.”
“Thank you. And be aware that you will most likely return to yourself once my team has gone home.”
“I understand.” Once again his smile is a little sad, but there is a wistful edge to it as he glances once again at Angie. “I feel for those equally affected by her… though I envy her love. He must be a very honorable man.”
“In his heart. Yes.”
“All I’m saying is that you could have done some of the damage control yourself. Instead of forcing me to–” Rodney’s been amusingly combative with Angie since leaving the kingdom. The duo walks a few feet behind Teyla and Ronon, but not keeping their battle of wills to themselves.
“And just when was I suppose to say anything?” Angie asks. “No one can get a word in edgewise when you’re on a tear.”
“You could have piped up.”
“I was having a hard enough time not busting at the seams. You’re hilarious when putting your foot in your mouth.”
“Oh, I’m so happy I could entertain you while Conan over there was giving me the evil eye and looking like he was ready to tear me apart.”
“Was not,” Ronon says over his shoulder then looks to Teyla and they share a grin.
They reach the gate and Teyla dials Atlantis. “This is Teyla, I’m sending my IDC.”
“Regardless,” Angie says with a teasing lilt in her voice. “You were defending my honor. Admit it.”
“Will you stop insisting that I had anything other than my own pride and hide to worry about at the time.”
“The shield is down, Teyla, come on home,” Chuck says over the radio.
“Uh uhh. I don’t buy it, Rodney,” Angie says, grinning.
“I’m not selling anything. I’m telling you–” Ronon and Teyla step through the gate immediately followed by the other two, with Rodney still rambling. “You’re imagination is a dangerous entity and should be reigned in immediately.”
Angie’s giggling comes to an abrupt halt. “OhMyGod!” She cries the moment she sees what has left Teyla and Ronon in stunned silence.
“Holycrap!” Rodney declares a second later.
The gate shuts down behind them, but no one moves. They are too shocked as far as Teyla is concerned. She can’t fathom having ever seen anything like this before.
All four are struck silent because everywhere they look, everyone they see…is blue. Not merely sky blue but…
“I’ve got a city full of Smurfs!” John hollers as he comes to a stop in front of Teyla.
Rodney and Angie exchange looks then glance back at the small group in the Gateroom and suddenly burst into laughter. Ronon’s wide-eyed but he also starts chuckling at the sight.
Only Teyla manages not to see the humor in the situation. This is clearly disturbing. “I truly apologize, Colonel. I have never known this to happen before. Is this another–”
John folds his arms over his chest and glares at her. “Carson says it’s a reaction between two of the compounds in the ‘cure’ you sent us and our distilled water.”
His hot gaze lights on Rodney and Angie. “Stop!” Unfortunately this only makes them turn into each other, hiding their faces as they try and stifle their increased laughter.
“Is everyone all right?” Teyla asks.
“We’re blue!”
She nods. “Yes, I see this is a problem. And again, I apologize. I assure you this has never happened before. I know Lord Treyhil would be most upset if anyone has…”
“No one is sick,” he says. “We just look it…a lot.”
Rodney and Angie are in the midst of another discussion, though Teyla is unable to decipher what they are talking about.
“Navy?” Rodney asks. “I don’t see it.”
“Cobalt, maybe.”
“I think more Prussian than anything else.”
Angie shakes her head. “Too dark. I’m sticking with cobalt.”
“Only to be contrary.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
Ronon turns to them, his silent gaze shutting them down. He looks back to John. “The rash?”
John sighs. “Gone. Thankfully.”
“That is good news, at least,” Teyla says.
Rodney tries to talk around his chuckling, not very well, however. “So…what does Carson say about the…ummm…new and improved Blue Man Group? Thinking of touring Las Vegas?”
Angie covers her mouth with one hand. John’s in front of her instantly. “This is not funny.”
Pressing her lips together tightly, she nods then adds: “If you insists.” But her body shakes as she turns once again to Rodney and buries her face in his shoulder.
“Fascinating really,” Rodney starts, though he’s clearly battling his own perceived humor in the situation by doing what he does best… speaking scientifically. “The perception of this is evoked by light having a spectrum dominated by energy with a wavelength of roughly 440–490 nanometres. And the skin is apparently translucent enough to permit–”
“McKay…” John starts, his voice extremely tight.
Rodney cocks his head. “Are you certain Carson didn’t do something to cause this? I mean, given the voodoo that he does – not that I would want to embarrass him or, you know… make him feel blue.”
Angie slaps Rodney on the shoulder before turning her back on everyone while she chuckles as quietly as possible.
“McKay.” The tight voice now has a serious warning in it.
“Hey, it’s not our fault the entire city has been claimed by the Crips.” He half turns to Angie, catching her gaze. “Or is it the Bloods?”
Angie clears her throat. “Bloods are red… get it?”
“Right. You know that doesn’t make much sense. Blood in the veins is actually blue…oxygen makes it red, just ask Carson.” He turns back to John. “He’s not… blue in the face in light of this colorful twist, is he?”
John takes a deep breath and clenches his fists at his sides. The twitch in his cheek reminiscent of Ronon earlier, though clearly not about controlling laughter.
Teyla places a hand on Rodney’s arm to stop him from saying anything else. “Has something else occurred, Colonel? You do not seem like yourself.”
“Of course I’m not myself, Teyla,” he grounds out through clenched teeth. “I’m a completely new color!”
Angie’s brows rise. “Everywhere?”
John stands in front of her again. “Some places more than others, thank you very much.”
“Oh that was uncalled for, Sheppard.” Rodney cringes. He waves a hand. “Are we done here? I need to go wash my mind out with something acidic.”
“McKay,” Angie admonishes.
“What?! Are you telling me you didn’t get his huge innuendo just then?”
“Of course I got it,” she says quietly. “I’m just saying, give the guy a break. He’s… frustrated.”
“In more ways than one, obviously.” He looks John up and down. “So, how’s my city fairing?”
“It’s not your city, McKay.”
“Since when?” He waves his hand again. “Please don’t tell me Radek did anything to upset the status quo. It’s bad enough when he’s in his right mind… now that he’s been shifted in the rainbow spectrum, well, lets just say a violet Radek is not a productive Radek.”
“Cobalt.”
Though his brows seem creased with concern, Rodney tosses of a nod to Angie. “Mmm.” The two of them are enjoying the predicament way too much for their own good. Teyla can see the toll it is taking on John. His entire being is tightly wound and it seems any further comment could set him off.
“You know,” Angie taps a finger to her lip. “Maybe it’s the lunar cycle.” She looks to McKay with an arched brow and that familiar twinkle in her eyes.
“It’s the wrong time for a full moon,” McKay states, though he and Angie are clearly contemplating another turn of a phrase. It’s as if they are compelled to bring as much attention to the situation as possible.
“No, full moons are for werewolves. I was wondering about the…”
Rodney takes her hand and pulls her away from the others and the two dance as they both start singing… out of tune with each other. “Blue moon… you saw me standing alone… without a dream in my heart… without a love of my own…” then Rodney dips her dramatically and the two turn their heads, grinning foolishly, to catch the effect their antics have had on everyone else.
Colonel Sheppard looks ready to kill both of them so Teyla steps forward to head off any danger. “Angela. Dr. McKay,” Teyla starts. “Perhaps we all should continue on to the infirmary for our return check-ups then retire to our quarters. It has been an eventful couple of days…”
“What are you talking about, Teyla,” Rodney says, straightening both himself and Angie. They part ways as fluidly as they came together, both still grinning. “I feel great. I don’t know about you, but I’m already missing that place, even if the bed was a bit too soft the room was far bigger than what we have here. I didn’t even notice Angie was with me–”
The sudden silence that permeates the Gateroom is so complete, Teyla can hear her own heart beating. Not only that, she’s certain she can hear the rapid increase in Rodney’s the moment he realizes what he just said.
Angie places a hand on his shoulder as if to drag him backward, behind her. “Ummm, Rodney?”
But he’s never been one to take a subtle hint. Rodney starts babbling as he did with Ronon but he must see the straightening of John’s spine, the flexing of his chest muscles and knows that nothing will work. “I’m a deadman,” he mutters under his breath.
Angie’s smile falls; she nudges Rodney with her elbow. “Bright side, at least you’re not blue.”
“Oh, thank you very much.”
But John doesn’t come at the scientist, he moves in on Angie, forcing her to back up a couple steps. “Rodney? What did he do that made you start calling him Rodney?”
Once again meaning to make things right, only to make them much worse, Rodney tries to move between Angie and John. “It was nothing… we just slept–”
John spins on his friend. “What!” A swift punch to Rodney’s face knocks the scientist to the ground. But the Colonel reaches down and grabs the man by the shirt collar, hauling him up to unstable feet.
Angie grabs hold of John’s left arm, trying to pull him away. “No… It’s not what you–” but John’s shaking Rodney then tossing the man through the air and onto his back with a painful thud. “John!”
A crowd grows around the gate room. Blue faces appear from all over on both levels. Teyla gets a strong sense of rage throughout the entire expedition. Every face she sees is tight with emotion. Something else has definitely happened while they were gone. People in the Control Room stop working and gazes lock onto the commotion below. A hush of silence surrounds the small group. A collective gasp echoes through the central tower. Many of them break into vicious grins, some working their hands together in anticipation of more violence.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Sheppard howls, stomping over the helpless scientist. “I saw the way you were looking at her! I saw it!” Teyla and Ronon move in but as soon as John grabs Rodney by the shirt collar again, Angie tackles him.
John does not go down as Angie lands on his back, but he does stagger slightly. “Stop it, John. You’re being paranoid. He’s just a friend!”
He lets go of Rodney, who falls back, too stunned to say or do anything. John straightens and dislodges the woman he loves with a hard shove. She falls back, landing on her rear hard enough to make her wince. John glowers at her. “Don’t lie to me!”
Angie’s face pales and her eyes widen. “John…” she says his name breathlessly, but Teyla hears the pain in her voice.
The moment John takes a step toward the still downed Angie, Ronon is behind him, locking his arms behind his back. John struggles, but Ronon does not give in the least. “Sheppard!”
“Let go of me, Ronon. That’s an order.”
“You better not mean that. You know who I’ll choose between the two of you.”
After a second, John reconsiders. “Fine.” But Ronon does not release him.
Teyla kneels next to Rodney, seeing his left eye is swelling, she calls for Carson.
Angie’s on her feet again, but she sidesteps John and joins Teyla on the opposite side of Rodney. Her hand on his shoulder makes John growl with rage. “Are you okay?”
Ronon’s holding him back, though John still has some fight in him. He tries to move in on the three of them but his rage is on Angie alone, as if Rodney is all but forgotten. “So this is the mature thing to do… try to make me crazy?”
“It was an innocent remark, John. You made yourself crazy. We simply slept in the same…” she glances at Rodney and raises a brow. “Room.”
“Yeah. Totally innocent,” Rodney moans, clutching his eye. “I swear. Nothing happened. I took the floor. Nice, cold and hard… just like I like it.”
John doesn’t seem to hear his friend. He’s intent on Angie alone, ignoring everything and everyone else, including being trapped by Ronon’s powerful arms. “I know you’re hurt and mad…believe me, I know. And…I told you how sorry I am…”
Fire alights in Angie’s eyes and Teyla’s breath stalls. She remembers seeing this before; this intense anger has only been released once, as far as Teyla knows… and it was on Kolya. The earlier paleness gone, Angie’s face tinges red. Her body goes slightly limp, though it’s an illusion. Even as her muscles seem to relax, she’s priming for a fight. Angie has amazing physical acuity and control over every movement. Slowly, she rises and goes to John, stopping with little space between them. “No you didn’t,” she says coolly.
“What?”
“You never said you were sorry, John.” Her body quakes slightly with the control she’s putting on her anger. Teyla would not be surprised if Angie launches herself at John in a full attack. “You made excuses. You never apologized. And a man who can’t say he’s sorry without being told to, isn’t worth all that much… is he?”
John’s obviously struck by that. He stops struggling for freedom and simply stares at Angie, his heart in his eyes replacing the earlier rage. “No…I guess I’m not.”
Without another word Angie stalks out of the Gateroom as Carson arrives – he’s also blue, but the novelty has worn off. “What the bloody hell… Colonel are you feelin’ all right?”
“Is he alright?!” McKay whines, delicately probing his now completely swollen eye.
Carson touches John’s shoulder. “Deep breaths, son. Do you need another sedative?”
John hangs his head and shakes it. His body seems to lose energy as well. “No…” he sighs. “No, doc… I’m okay. Really.” But when his gaze lands on Rodney, his eyes are wary. He looks over his shoulder at Ronon. “I’m okay big guy… really. Calm and cool.” Ronon releases him but doesn’t move away.
Carson explains that testosterone levels were affected by the bugs and rash. Many violent outbursts in much of the military personnel erupted. “Women also have a variation of testosterone in their systems as well, called progesterone,” Carson says. “Both Lt. Cadman and Sgt. Fuller, among others, were adversely affected. We’ve sent most to their rooms to avoid violent outbursts. It’s really not the Colonel’s fault. He’s actually been the most level-headed since this all began.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” Rodney grumbles. “My battered, soon-to-be-a-myriad-of-colors face isn’t his fault… alien bugs made him do it.”
“Frankly… yes,” Carson adds. “Come on to the infirmary Rodney. I’ll get ya cleaned up.”
“McKay,” John says, his voice full of regret though his body still radiates tension. “You swear to me.”
“Oh…please. How could you even think that!”
“He’s right, Sheppard,” Ronon says. “Angie has standards.”
“Thank you,” Rodney says, though Teyla hears another, more colorful Earth phrase in his tone. “I’m talking about me. I’d never do that!” Carson escorts Rodney out of the Gateroom.
“Well, that was interesting,” Ronon shakes his head, offering Teyla a smirk. A moment later, is the moment Teyla’s been fearing for a while now. Ronon seems to take in all that has happened and a realization seizes him.
His expression hardens and he narrows his gaze as he comes around to face John. The blow is fast and brutal, sending the Colonel flying, landing hard on his rear and skidding a couple more feet into a wall that jars him to a stop. He sits up clutching his jaw. Ronon stomps over, towering above the downed man, pumping his fist and growling. “You thought she got even with you!”
John doesn’t bother getting up to defend himself. He doesn’t have to because the gate room soldiers have already raised their weapons to do it for him -- stunners in place of P-90's, Teyla notices. But he waves them off. “Yes.” He says softly, but loud enough for the spectators to hear. A rumble slowly rises as the information takes hold and is quickly passed through the Atlantis grapevine.
Ronon’s fuming, ready to pummel John some more. But he’s holding back and Teyla does not understand why. “She loves you…” he says with incredible hurt in his voice and for some reason what Teyla hears is: “I trusted you.”
For a brief second, Teyla’s sure Ronon’s going for his gun, but instead the big man twists, his coat swirling around him and he stomps out in the same direction that Angie fled.
Teyla goes over to help John. He glances around; the other soldiers have no intention of aiding their commander. Several people, both men and women remain motionless, glaring at him. Teyla offers her hand which John takes and pulls himself up. “Suppose I deserved that.”
“Perhaps,” Teyla shrugs and cocks her head, studying John’s jaw for a moment. “Now… you will have some black to go with your blue.”
“You’ve been hanging out with McKay too much.”
Ronon pounds on the door as he had back on the planet, only this time he knows she is on the other side and purposely not answering. “Don’t make me shoot a hole in it,” he hollers.
A moment later the door to Angie’s room swishes open, her arms resting about her waist. “Dr. Weir would look unkindly on that kind of redecorating and you know it.”
Ronon muscles his way into the room by putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her back until she bumps into the bed and has to sit. He pulls his hands away, straightens to full height and points at his face. “Does this say I care?”
She’s startled by that but only momentarily because a giggle slips out as she shakes her head. “You really can’t pull that off without losing the scowl, Ronon.”
Losing some of his bluster, Ronon sits heavily on the bed next to her. “I know.” He shrugs. “Thought I’d try something new. Instead of automatic violence.”
Her eyes latch onto his and she smiles. It’s one of those soft but sad stunners reserved only for him. “So, I take it you know.”
Ronon opens his arms. “C’mere,” he offers and she slides into his waiting embrace, her arms go about his chest and she buries her face in his shoulder. And she cries. He only knows because her breathing changes and the occasional sniffle escapes. Angie doesn’t like to make a show out of her emotions… well, not when she’s hurting that is. Anger, passion, joy, those she has no problem sharing in full force… but she owns her pain. And right now the wounds are deeper than Ronon could have ever imagined.
“Sheppard won’t get away with hurting you like this.”
Angie pulls back. Her red eyes sparkle with new tears. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”
“I hit him.”
Her eyes widen and the fat tears slip down her cheeks. “How many times.”
“Once.”
She doesn’t believe him. “Really?”
Ronon pushes a long curl behind her ear. “I wanted to be here… not in the brig.”
“Thank you.” She hugs him again. He’s not sure which action she’s thanking him for, however. Not hurting Sheppard more, hitting him at all, or for coming to her room. But he doesn’t bother asking because she’s crying again and all he cares about is letting her.
A while later, Ronon hands her the cup of water from the bathroom and sits on the bed beside her again. Her face is blotchy, eyes swollen and red and her nose is running, but she’s as beautiful to him as ever. “I made that promise to Jack. It’s my duty to keep it.”
Angie shakes her head. “I think… I know there’s more to it than I’ve been willing to hear, Ronon.”
“No,” he says firmly. “There is never a reason to violate a mate’s trust. Never.”
“He was gone a long time… from his perspective. And he was surrounded by ancients wanting to ascend.” She gets up and paces. “Ancients with special powers.” Angie turns to him. “What if… what if she did something to him, Ronon?”
“Obviously she did, that’s the problem.”
“No. I mean… what if she used a power on him. What if he couldn’t resist.”
“So…she made him…?”
“I don’t know. I have to wonder. I mean… six months of telekinesis, mind-reading, being healed after battles with a psychically created beast…” Angie turns to him and grasps his hand. “I was alone with Lord Treyhil last night for less than five minutes and… you have no idea what he…” she shakes her head.
The question almost lodges in his throat. “What did he do?”
Again she shakes her head. “It wasn’t what he did so much as… who he is. He has a power over me, Ronon. I don’t understand it. I could barely control it long enough to get away from him.” With a heavy sigh, she sits on the bed again and buries her face in her hands. “If… I had been stranded on Lartec Msagro… with Lord Treyhil…” Dropping backward, she lies on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. “He kissed me,” she says softly.
“I’ll kill him. He knew you were taken.”
Angie’s hand rests on his arm, delicate but firm.
“I don’t blame him, Ronon. It could be natural for all we know. He was just as taken over by me… like Lorne or Elizabeth…”
“Sheppard?”
She nods. “I just… I don’t know how I can live with myself knowing what I’ve done to him.”
“What you’ve done?”
“C’mon, Ronon. John going after McKay? McKay of all people… because of me? I knew the withdrawals were bad… I had no idea they could make him crazy.”
Ronon realizes she wasn’t in the Gateroom to hear Carson’s explanation for the unexpected violent behavior.
“Oh… thank god,” she sighs. “At least that’s one less thing I have to feel guilty about.”
“Why do you have reason to feel guilty? You’ve done nothing wrong. Unless, you’re thinking about that secret trip to Huskin you forgot to tell me about… or that you’ve been having some problems when going to the lab ruins with McKay… acting… weird as he put it.”
A low growl escapes her lips. “I’m gonna kill that weasel.”
“He cares about you. We all do. Talk to me.” He smirks at her. “Don’t make me get rough.”
Angie blows out a sigh. “It’s about Kolya… and Clonem…Major Sheppard… and all the possibilities in between.”
“I don’t understand.”
Sitting up, Angie draws her feet up on the bed, as if trying to turn herself into a ball and hide from him. Ronon shifts so that he’s facing her. The look in her eyes makes his heart thump in a strange way. She’s scared. Scared of him. How could that be? What has he done to make her fear him?
After a few moments of biting her bottom lip, she looks at him fully and says: “I killed you.”
“What?”
“Back in the mine. When Kolya had me… had all of us… part of me… thought about killing you. You, Teyla…John,” her voice is so soft on the last name he almost doesn’t hear it. “I don’t remember actually thinking it or wanting it… but some part of me… gave up and,” tears slip from her eyes again and when she looks at him now, she looks so small, so fragile, he just has to wrap her up in his arms again. “I’m so sorry,” she says against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Ronon.”
Ronon rocks her gently, as he would a child, maybe as he will his own child some day, letting her sob away the guilt that may have been her undoing had she not been so strong. “You were afraid I would not understand,” he says, now realizing why the fear had been in her eyes.
“Yes.” She sniffs. “I’ll understand if you hate me.”
“Hate you?” Grasping her face in his large hands, he holds her so that their eyes meet. “I could never hate my sister, Angie. And you are my sister. We’ve established this. How you could doubt my love for you now…”
“No! I don’t. I’m…” More tears flow. It’s as if all the water in her being is spilling from her eyes. Once Dr. Beckett told him that human bodies are made up mostly of water and if she loses too much, she will get sick. “You have to stop.”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you all soppy.” She pats at the wet spot on his shoulder in a vain attempt to dry it.
“Not because of that. You don’t want to get dehydrated again.”
She looks at him with questioning eyes for several moments then chuckles. Her damp palm rests on his cheek. “Have I really been crying that much?” She laughs. “Gawd! I’m turning into such a girl! How will I ever survive the horror?”
Realizing what he said must have been unnecessary, Ronon laughs, giving her an embarrassed apology. But Angie settles herself beside him and rests the side of her head on his dry shoulder. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’m not that wacko, can’t-sleep-because-of-monsters chick anymore. Thank God.”
Ronon wraps his arm around her shoulders and hugs her close to his side. “You should have come to me. About Huskin. About Treyhil. Why McKay, last night?”
“I didn’t want to come between you and Teyla. I want you to be happy. You are happy aren’t you?”
“Yes. But Teyla would have understood. She wouldn’t have begrudged–”
“As much as I love you…” she turns her head so she can look at him. “And I do. Teyla needs to know she’s important to you… as important to you. I can’t come running to you whenever the need arises. And I can’t be the end all and be all of your heart. It’s too much pressure. That might be one of the reason’s I suppressed those memories. It wasn’t so much about … the thought of hurting you… of losing you… but to know I put that out there in the universe…” another tear slides down but she swipes it away. “After all you’ve done for me.”
“It’s not real.”
“Yeah… try telling yourself that when Elizabeth and Jonathan get back.”
“I don’t have to.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It’s not you. You, right here. Right now. You chose to fight and win. That other woman… if she’s out there… she’s not you. Like Sheppard isn’t Jonathan. You would never hurt me, Angie. You’d never hurt anyone.”
She huffs. “I hurt John tonight. I could see it in his eyes. He really believed I would… that I’d be that vindictive… does he even know me at all?”
“I believe he does. I wouldn’t judge him during this turmoil… he is a different man at the moment. And not because of the brilliant color of his skin.” Angie giggles lightly. “However, if you insist, I could still hold up my deal with Jack and take care of the Colonel.”
“I’m actually a bit stunned you haven’t tried already.”
Playing wounded, Ronon gasps. “You believe it would take more than one attempt on my part?!”
That gets him another giggle and a pat on the chest. “True. And I do thank you for the offer of disposing of my cheating fiancé in a timely matter… however…” she sighs. “I’m already past forgiving him.”
“Really?”
“He does love me, Ronon. I know it the moment I see him. And even without the whole ‘soul connection’ we have… I can’t imagine my life without him.”
“So, no killing.”
“Or maiming.”
“Seriously? You can’t even give me that? Just a little bit.”
“No.”
Ronon grumbles. “Fine. Be that way.”
Angie smiles up at him, another dazzler. “Now that, you can pull off.”
Elizabeth’s hand shakes as she fists it and reaches to knock on the door. She’s never been this nervous. Only Jonathan’s warm hand gentle on the small of her back keeps her centered. Maybe they could jump back into the car for a quickie to help her relax a bit. Jonathan’s hand tenses against her skin and she glances at him. “Don’t even think about it,” he warns with a sly grin. Ever since they got together, it’s like he can read her mind.
Not that she’s had much else on her mind these days. “Can’t help it,” she grins in return. “I just have to think about you and I get all… warm. Everywhere.”
Jonathan groans lightly and his fingertips dig a bit into her skin through her silk blouse. “You’re gonna be the death of me. I’m exhausted.”
Elizabeth leans over and nibbles on his bottom lip. “Me too… but… You’re just so edible.” Their last attack of hormonal overload nearly had them falling off the balcony of their hotel room. She’s sure they gave the whole city a good show as well. Elizabeth’s never been an exhibitionist, but with Jonathan, she’ll be anything, everything he wants. If he wants her in the Gateroom once they’re back on Atlantis, she might actually consider submitting to the idea…
Okay, maybe not there.
Suddenly, his other hand shoots out and he hits the door with two hard raps. Elizabeth groans a sigh and stands up straight, rolling her shoulders back and holding her head high, even as her spine shivers.
The door opens and there she is all silk and pearls, hair done, makeup immaculate: the epitome of style and grace. Everything Elizabeth has spent her life trying desperately to live up to, only to feel she’s failed miserably. “Hello, Mother.”
The smile she receives is as heartwarming and loving as it has always been. Elizabeth has never doubted her mother’s devotion. It’s only been her own feelings of inadequacy that always turn her into a scared little girl whenever arriving on the doorstep.
“Elizabeth! Darling!” The arms that embrace her are still strong and pull her in tight, holding on for all she’s worth. Elizabeth fights a sob as she clings to her mother. “It’s so good to see you.” She holds Elizabeth’s face in her hands and stares at her daughter. “You look so beautiful. Not that you have ever been anything else, but so much joy in your eyes, darling. Brings out the color, just like your Father’s.”
At the mention of her father, Elizabeth bites her lip to hold back tears. She will always miss that man, no matter how much time passes. Her mother’s heart almost broke when he died ten years ago, but she managed to hang on and get reacquainted with life. Elizabeth’s heart has never been able to heal from the loss. She will always be Daddy’s little girl.
“And who is this handsome young gentleman?”
Elizabeth snaps back to the present, embarrassed to have forgotten even for a moment why they’ve come to Georgetown. “Mom… this is Jonathan Sheppard. Jonathan, meet Margaret Weir.” She smiles at her mother. “Though we’re kind of hoping you’ll let him call you Mom, as well.”
Margaret casts her daughter a double-take then her eyes widen in shock and what Elizabeth hopes is delight. Her hands flutter to cover her mouth as she lets out a decidedly unladylike squeal. “Oh, DearLordinheaven! My baby’s finally done it!” She throws her arms around Jonathan’s neck, kisses his cheek and hugs him close. He’s so startled he doesn’t know how to react at first and it makes Elizabeth laugh.
Margaret pulls back from Jonathan and grasps his face as she did Elizabeth’s. “And he’s so handsome!”
“We try not to remind him so much, Mom. Afraid it might go to his head,” Elizabeth says with a grin.
“I’ll bet.” Margaret winks at Jonathan and he has the grace to blush. She motions for them to come in the house. “Before we make even bigger spectacles of ourselves. Come, come! We have so much to talk about.”
As they’re having coffee and cake — always a staple in the Weir household — Margaret is the perfect hostess even as she is the doting mother and, now, mother-in-law. She keeps grasping for Elizabeth’s hand and also Jonathan’s, squeezing as if trying to make sure they are really with her. “I can’t believe you eloped. You should have called me.”
The hurt in her mother’s voice makes Elizabeth’s heart ache. “I’m so sorry, Mom. It did happen rather fast and you were still on the cruise when we got home. And we only have a short time before we have to return…”
Margaret waves a hand and reaches for her coffee cup and saucer. “I understand darling. I do. Please tell me you have pictures.”
“With and without Elvis,” Jonathan adds, pulling the photos from his pocket. Elizabeth didn’t even know he brought them. He gives her a grin as if telling her: Mom’s always want pictures.
Though there are only a few photos, Margaret holds them carefully in both hands and brings them close to her face to see every detail. As if she’s drinking in her daughter’s life in those few precious moments. “You look so happy, Elizabeth. I’m thrilled for you.”
Elizabeth sighs, finally releasing the nervous energy she’s been keeping at bay. She never had anything to fear, really. Her mother has only ever wanted Elizabeth’s happiness; even if that meant a secret elopement without family and friends. It’s too bad she can never know the truth. That Elizabeth’s real wedding was far more beautiful and romantic than anything she could have imagined. The only dark pall had been that her mother and father hadn’t been there; could never have been there. However, Elizabeth feels a certain tug on her heart…a knowing deep inside her soul… that her father was there, after all. And he’s happy for her as well.
“So, darling boy,” Margaret turns to Jonathan. “Are there any more at home like you?”
He clears his throat, glancing at Elizabeth who grins. “Actually,” she starts. “Jonathan has a… twin brother who also works with us. He’s a colonel in the Air Force.”
“Older… twin,” Jonathan adds. “So much alike, we’re almost the same person,” he teases and Elizabeth narrows her gaze in mock warning.
“Really?” Margaret says. “I’ve always found twins fascinating.” She smiles at Elizabeth. “And is this brother…”
“John,” Elizabeth says.
Margaret looks to Jonathan, confusion evident by her expression. “You’re parents gave you the same name?”
“…Ummm… I was a bit of a surprise. No one even knew where I came from at first.”
“They were not raised together, Mom. Jonathan was… stolen from the hospital as a baby and raised by a different family.”
Margaret’s eyes widen in shock tempered with sadness and anger. “Stolen!” Her hands grasp for Jonathan’s. “How horrible. Are you all right, son?”
Jonathan pats her hands. “Yes. My parents… I love them very much. They are wonderful and had no idea what had happened. Neither did I until recently.”
“So it was your adoptive parents who named you Jonathan without ever knowing your twin was named John? Now this is truly fascinating… and so terribly tragic. What of your real parents? They must have been so happy to finally know you.”
“Yes, we’ve spent some time together,” he says, trying hard not to let the lie show. Jonathan wanted to visit, but John’s unresolved issues with his father left Jonathan without any way to actually speak to the man without raising too many questions. “John and I have more time though. Since we now work together.”
“That’s nice,” Margaret smiles though she’s still saddened. “It must be confusing, for those you work with.” She looks to Elizabeth. “How could you tell the two apart if they are so alike?”
Elizabeth smiles at Jonathan. “I know the difference.” He winks at her. “We simply call the Colonel by his rank. Or by his last name. Seems to work out all right.”
Margaret grins at her daughter, “That much is obvious. You’re glowing, darling.” She turns to Jonathan again. “You’re so much better for her than that…other one.” There’s a subtle amount of vile in her mother’s tone on that last part.
“Mom,” she warns gently. “Simon is not a bad man.”
“The jury has rendered a verdict and it is against him, my dear.” She looks to Elizabeth with round eyes. “Oh, you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
Margaret shakes her head. “That…bastard–”
“Mother!”
“He was going to send your dog, your precious Sedge, to the pound, darling!”
“What?” Elizabeth shoots to her feet, her hands ball into fists at her sides. “He what?”
“Don’t worry.” Margaret is beside her instantly, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I put him straight. Gave him a few choice words, I did.”
“Where’s Sedge? She couldn’t be here… you’re asthma!”
“You know I would have taken her in anyway, doctors be damned… but…”
Elizabeth hugs her mother close. Her mother’s health is too precarious when it comes to asthma. One bad episode and… Elizabeth refuses to think about it. She’s been there enough in the past to know how it could go wrong so quickly. “I know, Mom. Please tell me she’s all right.”
“A friend a mine has been taking great care of her. But he’s getting on in age and can’t really keep up with the girl. She needs exercise, dear. She needs you.”
Elizabeth’s breath catches. Oh, how she wants to be with her baby girl. Her child really, no matter the four legs and tail attached. Sedge has always been her girl. She thought she was doing the best for her, leaving her with Simon, his big backyard. He’d always been good to her, caring. Just the thought of her in danger of being sent to the pound by that same man! So much betrayal! “How could he do that? How could Simon be so cruel?”
Margaret shakes her head again. “It’s that new friend of his, darling. She’s a shrew, really. Met them at the Club a while ago, after you went away again. “She didn’t want anything to do with me or you.” She turns to Jonathan. “Intimidated by Simon’s past, I do say.”
Jonathan grins at Elizabeth. “Well, look at the reasons. Can’t compete with the beauty in this room.”
“No, she can’t,” Margaret nods proudly. With a deep breath, she turns back to Elizabeth. “Perhaps you know of a friend who’d be willing to take Sedge for you while you’re away?”
She glances at Jonathan. “Sam?”
“Or Daniel… he’s a little lonely. Maybe Cam… though…” he doesn’t add what she already knows. SG-1 isn’t really around long enough to take care of a dog. Even General Landry would have a hard time of it, given he’s underground most of the day and night.
Elizabeth sits suddenly, deflated. “I don’t know…”
“We’ll figure something out, darling.” Margaret retakes her seat as well. The photos dangle on the edge of the chair and she takes them up again. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” Once again, she clings to Elizabeth’s hand.
“No, it’s okay. I needed to know.” She takes comfort in her mother’s touch. “And you’re right, Mom.” Elizabeth grins at Jonathan. “He is so much better for me than… the other one.” Jonathan winks at her again. He doesn’t have any worries about her past coming between them. He knows he’s the only one in her heart, now and forever. “He’s perfect.”
Margaret glances between the two then fans herself with the photos. “Oh my…”
“What?” They both turn to her.
“I haven’t felt fire like that spark since your father and I met.”
Elizabeth blushes as she and Jonathan lock eyes again. He’s blushing too. “Well, that’s a good thing, then,” Jonathan says.
“A very good thing,” Margaret nods. “You two belong together.” With regret in her eyes, she passes the photos back to Jonathan but he holds up a hand. “Keep them. We have copies.”
“Really?” Margaret cups them as if they’re delicate china. “If you’re sure.”
Jonathan leans in and kisses her cheek. “Absolutely, Mom.”
Margaret’s eyes twinkle at him. She sets the photos on the table, well away from the drinks in case of a spill then grasps a hand from both Jonathan and Elizabeth. “This calls for a celebration. I want to take you to dinner. Someplace exceedingly expensive.”
“Mom…”
“Elizabeth,” she says sternly. “You owe me a chance to spoil the newlyweds. And I know just the place. We probably can’t get in tonight, but I’ll make plans for tomorrow evening if that works for the two of you.”
Elizabeth nods. “We fly out on Thursday to Colorado Springs. That gives us three days with you.” That’s all her mother knows about Elizabeth’s work… that if she is ever to be contacted it is through the US Air Force in Colorado Springs. And though her eyes always ask questions, her mother does not voice them. She wouldn’t want Elizabeth to have to lie.
Margaret claps her hands together. “Wonderful.” With that, her mother rises from the sofa and goes to the bookshelf. Elizabeth feels those nerves kick in again. “So, Jonathan. Have you ever wondered how Elizabeth’s teeth got so beautifully straight?”
“Mom!”
But it’s no use. Her mother already has the photo albums in her hands and is bringing them over to the sofa. Jonathan’s eyes light up with amusement as Margaret takes the seat next to him. “Payback, darling. You did decide to elope without even introducing me to your man first.” She grins wickedly. “Besides, I would have done this anyway… you know that.”
Elizabeth tries to hide the grin but it refuses to stop growing and soon she’s shaking her head and laughing. She leans back in the sofa across from her mom and her husband and watches them bond over the past.
They’re honeymoon on Earth is almost over, yet they still have almost a month to go before returning to Atlantis. A part of Elizabeth is nervous about the trip. Being inseparable on Earth, locked together in bliss day and night is one thing; they could always escape each other for an hour or so, the hotel gym or pool, shopping, whatever. But 18 days on the Daedalus will be something completely different, completely confining…what if they go stir-crazy and end up hating the sight of each other by the end.
Naw, you’ll be all ‘snookums’ and ‘honeybunnies’ shagging all the way home. You’ll never notice the time has passed. Angie’s declaration echoes in Elizabeth’s mind. She hopes it goes that way.
Thinking about Angie gives Elizabeth a pang of disappointment; one she hopes will fade soon.
She managed to get Jonathan out of Vegas and to California with the promise of a trip to Six Flags Magic Mountain and as many rollercoaster rides as she could stomach, which turns out, after a year-and-a-half in Pegasus—having been held hostage by a madman, almost killed by two-hurricanes-in-one, battling Wraith and almost blowing up Atlantis—roller coasters, not so frightening anymore; though it didn’t hurt to have Jonathan sitting next to her, holding her hand.
They made the stop in Los Angeles at the bank and Elizabeth was well on her way to having the manager make the call to Washington when a teller informed them both that the box was no longer under the name given. That account had been closed out three months ago.
“Three months?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The manager looked over the paperwork. “I’m sorry, but everything does seem to be in order here. Are you certain this is the correct bank?”
Elizabeth nodded. “The… attorney who contacted me said it was the only box Sally had.”
The manager’s smile was sad. Elizabeth had given him a short sob story about the death of her ‘cousin’. How she had been out of the states and had only learned of the tragic loss a few weeks ago. “Again. I’m terribly sorry.”
“Could you tell me who closed the account? Was it the FBI?”
This perked the manager’s interest. “Umm… no, I can’t tell you, that is confidential. Why would the FBI be involved?”
“Oh?” Elizabeth waved a hand; letting it flutter over her mouth. “Sally was… she was murdered.”
Though interested, the manager was professional enough not to push. “How sad. Again… I am sorry. All I can tell you is that the paperwork is in order. The man who closed out the box even had the key.”
Though subtle, and probably in his opinion not even helpful, the manager’s answer was all that Elizabeth needed. At least the FBI hadn’t taken and disposed of whatever Angie had held so dear. She never would have given up the spare key to any agent. Not after all she’d been through.
And only one other person would have bothered, as far as Elizabeth is concerned. He probably found the key when cleaning out his cabin, readying to sell it.
As Jonathan and Margaret continue to chat over old photos, and Jonathan’s amusement about Elizabeth’s past hairstyles, makeup adventures and clothing choices starts to get a little embarrassing, she excuses herself and goes into the kitchen.
Pulling out the cell phone General Landry gave to her before she and Jonathan left the SGC, she scrolls down the list until hitting the number she wants. Moments later it’s ringing. “O’Neill.”
“Jack. It’s Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth!” He sounds happy to hear from her. “What on Earth are you doing calling me while on your honeymoon? Do you need advice? Sheppard not getting the job done as well as in the closets at the SGC?”
“Jack,” she groans, her face getting hot.
He’s chuckling at her. “You’re too easy to embarrass Dr. Weir. You almost take the fun out of it. Not quite, but almost.”
“I’m thrilled I can amuse you in your advanced age.”
“Ahhh and the tongue lashes.” He’s still laughing though, so she knows he’s not even wounded. “So, are you ready to go home yet?”
“Not quite. We leave on Friday. We’re heading back on Thursday night. Jonathan and I are visiting my mom right now.”
“Really? You got Sheppard to agree to a visit with his mother in-law? I’m shocked. And impressed. Though you’ve always impressed me, Elizabeth.”
She grins. “Thank you, Jack. Mom’s showing off my embarrassing childhood right now, so I hoped this would be a good time to catch you.”
“What do you need?”
“Well. Angie asked me to do her a favor and unfortunately it didn’t pan out. I was wondering if that was your fault.”
“My fault?”
“You didn’t happen to take a trip to California a few months back did you?”
“California?” He seems genuinely confused by the idea for a moment then she hears a snap of fingers over the phone. “The bank! Yes. The security box. Did Angie really send you for that?”
“Well, you obviously forgot to tell her you emptied it,” Elizabeth laughs, internally sighing that her hunch was correct. “Please tell me you didn’t toss whatever was in there.”
“Of course not. But… are you saying she wanted what was in the box?”
Elizabeth’s brows shoot up. “Yes.” She takes a deep breath. “Oh, Jack, you didn’t lose whatever it was, did you?”
“Lose… no… um… change…”
“What do you mean… change?”
“Well…?”
“Jack?” Elizabeth closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Angie’s going to be unhappy, isn’t she.”
“Now, don’t go getting all… worried. I’m sure she’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“You know as well as I do that Angela Peterson does not like surprises. What did you do?”
There’s a muffled sound over the phone then Jack is back. “Elizabeth, I have to go. I’ll see you in three days.”
“You’re coming to Colorado?”
“I have to see off my favorite newlyweds, don’t I?” He pauses a moment. “And don’t worry about Angie. I know that girl better than she knows herself. She’ll be happy… or she’ll just have to come home and kick my ass.”
“You know, she just might.”
Jack grunts, “Hmm.”
“Oh, Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you feel about dogs?”
“What?”
“Dogs. My dog needs a good home… someone I trust… My mom can’t keep her.”
“I really have to go. I’ll see you on Friday.” He hangs up.
Elizabeth shakes her head. I hope he knows what he’s done. She trusts Jack implicitly when it comes to Angie. He’d never do anything to hurt her. So whatever was in that box…at least it wasn’t lost. Elizabeth will just have to wait another three days to find out what is so special.
She hadn’t thought about asking him to take Sedge but he is the perfect choice really. Though Washington D.C. isn’t the most out-doorsy of towns, Jack keeps in shape. He’s active, possibly a bit lonely with Sam back at the SGC.
Hmm. Elizabeth puts in another call. As expected, she gets voicemail. “Sam, it’s Elizabeth. I have a favor to ask you.” She tells Sam about Sedge and the bastard ex, about her mom’s asthma and how she needs someone she trusts to take her dog. “I need you to convince Jack that he’s the right man for the job. Please, Sam. I’m begging. Hope to see you on Friday.” She closes down the cell and leans against the counter with a sigh.
“Fold,” Angie tosses her cards to the center of the table and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms loosely.
“You’re not playing at your best, girlfriend.” Lt. Laura Cadman says as she gathers the chips from the kitty.
Sgt. Sharon Fuller, aka Maddog, snorts. “She needs to get laid.”
“Who doesn’t?” Laura huffs.
Angie nods at the truth of that. It’s been ten days since she and the others returned from Lartec Msagro and found the whole company of Atlantis turned blue. It was hilarious until she encountered the testosterone poisoned Colonel John Sheppard. His violent outburst left even more unresolved issues between them.
John’s not good at apologizing, that’s for certain. He hasn’t even tried since their short face-off in the Gatrium. Not that she really blames him. Carson told her that John was the most level-headed of everyone because he was medicated.
Once McKay returned, Carson relieved John of duty and now the poor guy has been suffering through withdrawals from the sedatives. He’s spent most of the down time in the infirmary or isolated in his room with around the clock nurses. Carson suggested, given the circumstances of their relationship struggles, that Angie not spend much time with him.
Not exactly conducive to the healing of their coupledom.
She couldn’t stay away completely. Angie decided that being without John was far worse than being with a belligerent, loud-mouthed assed-John or the moody, closed-off ass-John. She’s spent most nights sitting by his bed just holding his hand, only to leave when he starts to wake from his nightmares. Subconsciously, and chemically Carson assures her, he knows she’s been there. At least any imbalance he’s been suffering through because of their separation has been erased. Now it’s only a matter of time, and patience.
Skin tones and attitudes have returned to normal at last, though McKay still has the remnants of a black eye thanks to John; and John still has a blackened jaw thanks to Ronon.
Angie sighs. She’s been moping too. She misses Elizabeth. She misses the girl’s days that had become a regular thing before the wedding. Selfish? Absolutely. But knowing that doesn’t make it any less real.
Maybe she needs a hobby. At least until Beth returns. She should get back to searching the city with McKay. It was kind of fun looking through all the living quarters, trying to find the perfect place for Elizabeth to call home with her new hubby.
Wait a minute! A grin tickles her lips. McKay! That’s it. Something fun that can take her mind off her problems with John. She looks at Laura. “I’ve got an idea about at least getting Sharon some action. You want in on the project?”
Laura’s brows crease. “Why can’t I be the project?”
“Because you have a man… he’s just not putting out…”
“Momma’s boy,” Sharon fake-coughs. Laura smacks her on the arm.
“Besides,” Angie says with a shrug. “I’ve got a sure thing lined up for Sharon… if you’re interested.”
“Depends.” Sharon’s green gaze narrows. “Who’re we talking about?”
Angie takes a deep breath, bites her bottom lip then expels it in a rush. “McKay.”
“McKay!” the other two shout.
Angie holds up a hand. “Let me explain.”
“Oh, this is too good not to hear,” Laura says.
“He’s seriously hard-up.”
“And up-tight,” Laura adds.
“Let the woman speak for Godsakes, Cadman.”
Laura’s eyes widen as she looks over Sharon. Angie sees the slight flush in the sergeant’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re even thinking about it?” Laura cries.
“What?” Sharon says. “What’s wrong with McKay?”
Laura holds up both hands. “OhMyGod!” She grabs hold of her head. “Too. Many. Thoughts! Can’t separate the badness!”
Angie and Sharon laugh. “He’s not that bad,” Angie says. “He’s actually… Okay, never mind about that.” She turns back to Sharon. “He’s not interested in anything… romantic. Just… well let’s face it. He really needs to get laid and on a regular basis. And the sooner the better. The guy almost hit on me.”
“No!” That was Laura.
“Oh yes.”
“So… Sheppard wasn’t totally off the mark?” Sharon asks.
Angie holds up a hand, closes her eyes and bites her lip. “This is about McKay and the possible help he can give you… or you each other.”
“Right,” Sharon brushes a hand over her short red hair. She raises her brows in thought, makes a cute face, pushing out her lips and wobbling her head back and forth.
Laura’s gaze darts between the two of them. “You’re really considering this! I can’t believe it.”
“Why not?” Sharon asks. “It’s not like I have a hellava lot of luck with the guys here. Our fellow soldiers aren’t interested in crossing the line and the scientists are…”
Laura nods. “Afraid of you.” Sharon shrugs and makes another, less cute, face.
“Can you blame them?” Angie asks. “Not only are you totally hot but you can kick ass with the best of them. Plus you carry a really big gun.” In fact, Sharon reminds Angie a whole lot of Samantha Carter in that respect. Military men can’t seem to see beyond the uniform and scientists beyond their glasses. Though Jack and Sam finally managed to get together, there was a time that Daniel could have taken Sam right out from under Jack’s nose… if he’d only noticed her.
“And most of the men we meet off-world,” Sharon’s says, bringing Angie back to the present. “Not exactly into the whole… personal hygiene thing.”
Angie nods. “Yeah, we are kinda spoiled little Earth girls, huh.”
“Just a bit,” Sharon says.
Laura starts laughing so hard she doubles over. She’s wheezing by the time she spits out: “I just got an image of McKay begging you to blow him.”
Angie giggles. “He’d probably say something overtly scientific to get the point across.”
Laura’s pointing at her. “That’s exactly what I imagined. OhGod!” And she’s laughing again.
But it’s Sharon who ultimately draws Angie’s full attention. The sergeant is sitting back, smiling slyly and nodding. She licks her lips in anticipation.
Angie sucks in a deep breath as something finally hits her. “Holy crap! That’s your kink!”
Sharon stares wide-eyed. “I don’t know what you’re babbling about.”
Angie wags a finger at her. “You’re a geek fangirl!”
“I am not!”
“You so are!” Laura shouts. “This makes so much sense.” She gives Angie a friendly shove. “McKay-speak is gonna be her G-spot! He won’t even need to touch her.”
Angie studies the now blushing Sharon who can’t seem to deny the accusation. “Is she right? You have a thing for McKay?”
“No! Well… Not exactly… If Grodin hadn’t died, I’d have been all over him… he had an accent too boot. I kinda do like the whole Zelenka/McKay sandwich, though.”
“What!” Both Angie and Laura cry.
Sharon’s leaning on the table, eager to explain. “Have you seen those two geek out with each other. The whole science-gobbly-gook that comes out when their working on something big. Not to forget McKay generally saves the day with all that science babble. I mean… what’s not to like?”
“Ahhh, he’s an arrogant, pig-headed, hypochondriac with a little to no social skills and a doom and gloom outlook on life and what-not?” Laura says with a shrug and a shake of her head.
Sharon waves her off. “I can kick his ass, or give him a huge orgasm… which do you think he’d prefer?”
Angie’s so shocked that her idea was so easily accepted that she’s at a loss. It’s McKay! So, okay, he’s been really good to her lately, very understanding and supportive in his own way… but he’s still… And the whole Dr. Z/McKay sandwich image just gives her the shivers of … eew! “Do you even understand anything they say?”
“Occasionally.” Sharon chugs her beer. “Okay, not so much, but who the hell cares. It makes me hot to hear them go at it like that. And,” she motions to Laura. “I know you’ve got this whole McKay equals evil because you got stuck in his head, but… when he’s being an arrogant ass… God, I love that!” She squirms a little in her seat. “Reminds me of this professor I had in college. What he could do with his tongue when he wasn’t berating my work…” she sighs at the memory.
Laura and Angie exchange glances. “Ahhh. You were one of those horny co-eds.”
Sharon’s eyes are wide, almost innocent. “You guys didn’t have any hot profs?”
“Hardly,” Angie snorts. “Hot FBI agent…” she says softly and Laura gives her hand a squeeze.
“All my teachers were old… and oh-so-boring. That’s one of the reasons I joined The Core.”
Angie smirks. “The other being…”
“I get to blow things up,” Laura smiles, gulping her drink.
“Well… speaking of blowing things,” Angie snickers. “Radek’s taken by the good brain-doc, so you’ll be stuck with McKay unless…”
“I can handle McKay,” Sharon says with a grin. “I’m not exactly the romance poster girl, you know. I’m just –”
“Horny beyond the telling of it?” Laura says then shakes her head. “But… do you really think McKay can handle the job? I mean, the guy talks with his hands a lot, but that doesn’t mean he’s any good with them… or anything else, besides putting his foot in his own mouth.”
“So I can tell him your… open to the idea?”
“No,” Sharon says definitively.
“Huh?”
Her lips slide into a lascivious smile. “Let me deal with McKay. You two need to deal with your respective hotties. Namely,” she points at Laura. “Seduce the doc already.” Then she points at Angie. “Give that Colonel what he’s got coming to him then marry the man already.”
The heat that rises in Angie’s cheeks makes her breath catch. She bolts from her chair. “I um… you’re the project, not…”
“Consider this project completed,” Sharon grins. “Or, well on my way.”
“Yeah, what’s it gonna be, Peterson?” Laura says. “You gonna tell us to kick his ass or are you gonna do it for yourself.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Sharon holds her gaze. “It all comes down to one thing, Ang. Is he worth the heartache or not?”
Angie glances from Sharon to Laura then nods. “Definitely.”
Sharon pats her arm. “Then do something about it.”
“Yeah,” Laura adds, a glint lighting her eyes. “And I think I’ll be taking that advice as well.”
“Good,” Sharon says with a nod. “Now. Who wants to hear about my immediate plans on getting a super-genius orgasm?”
Laura pushes back from the table and heads for the door. “I’d rather get my own, thanks.”
Angie follows, wagging a finger at Laura’s back. “I’m gonna follow that train of thought. Let me know how it goes. And remember… he’s very important to the city, so no breaking him.”
Sharon holds up a hand. “Scouts honor.” Still there’s a devilish gleam in Sharon’s eyes. One that gives Angie pause…
“God help Rodney,” Angie sighs as she leaves the room, hearing a soft chuckle from Sharon follow her out.
“Teyla!”
Turning as she leaves Dr. Heightmeyer’s office, Teyla sees Laura Cadman rushing up to meet her. “Hello, Laura.”
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Where are you heading?”
“Off to see Carson. Glad I caught you though. Where’ve you been hiding yourself? We missed you at poker today.”
“Sorry,” Teyla says. She motions that she’s heading down the same corridor and Laura obligingly takes pace with her steps. “I haven’t been… myself lately.”
“How so? It’s not like you became part of the Blue Brigade,” Laura laughs.
“I am afraid it is more complicated in nature.”
“So…?” Laura tilts her head back toward Dr. Heightmeyer’s door. “Getting some perspective then?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I won’t intrude. But you know you can talk to me… and the other girls, if you need.”
“Yes. I know. Thank you.” Kate’s words echo in Teyla’s mind. “Sounds to me like you need to get in-touch with the woman in you. Tell the warrior to take a rest and just… feel again, Teyla. Enjoy the moments in life. I know it’s difficult, especially out here, but perhaps you have forgotten what it’s like to just be a woman. How to laugh and love and give yourself to others without worrying about the boogeyman around the corner. No matter how real the boogeyman truly is.” Teyla stops and turns to Laura, startling the other woman. “You know how much I care for you, don’t you?”
Laura stops, stunned. Her eyes widen in surprise. “Well… I…” She smiles. “Yes. I do. Thank you. I feel the same, you know.” Laura links her arm with Teyla’s. “Good friends are hard to find. And sometimes, even harder to hold on to. Soooo, if necessary, I’ll take the weight of the holding on whenever necessary.”
Teyla smiles in return. “Thank you.”
She’s silent for a while causing Laura’s eyes narrow. “Is something going on I should know about? Do we need to wrangle the gang for some sort of girl-power session?”
“No. It is simply that… I have noticed lately that my… feelings are not being expressed in the proper manner.”
Laura laughs heartily before pulling Teyla into a hug. “My God, is that all? I thought you had some incurable disease or something.” Laura pulls back, her hands on Teyla’s shoulders. “So you’re not into PDA’s, that’s nothing to be worried about.”
“PDA’s?”
“Public displays of affection, sweetie.” Laura shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”
Teyla sighs. “Public, perhaps not. But… privately…?”
“Oh…” Laura bites her bottom lip. “This is about some gorgeous hunk of man, I take it.”
Nodding, Teyla sighs again. “I do love him… I just seem to be so…”
“Afraid?”
“Kate asked that as well. If I am too afraid of losing him… because I lost…” She looks into Laura’s caring eyes. “I lost someone before. I believed we would be together forever, and yet…”
“Shit happens,” Laura nods in understanding. “Especially out here. No wonder you and Angie get along so well. You have so much in common it’s freaky.”
Teyla ponders that a moment. She never really thought about what drew her and Angela together as friends. Given their histories, however, it seems there are quite a few similarities. Both have lost their families, their homes… both have fallen in love with men who, at first, seemed so very wrong for them. “Yes, I suppose we do. How is she?”
“Moping, I guess is the right word. She and Sheppard… what a pair. Can’t see them apart though.”
“Yes. They do belong together.”
“But they’re both so bullheaded. I’m thinking they need to be locked in a room together until they work things out.”
“Or perhaps kill each other.”
“Knowing those two… it’d be a ‘Death by Orgasm’ match.”
Teyla laughs. Laura simply says whatever is on her mind, without regard for societal protocols. It is actually one of the things Teyla finds most likeable about the woman.
Again, Laura links an arm through Teyla’s and they move down the corridor. “So this… fear… is it similar to Angie’s? That you’re dooming a poor man with your love. Or that he’ll be… you know…” she waves her hand and makes a whooshing noise which Teyla takes as Laura’s ‘culling’ sound. “Or something more psychological… like you’re betraying the memory of your first love?”
“A little of the last two perhaps. The Wraith are a part of life. My history. But being with you all… seeing what life could have been… makes me. I am unsure really what it makes me.”
“Hence talking with our local head doctor,” Laura grins. “You know. Sometimes knowing yourself too well, is… well… not worth it in my opinion. Maybe what you need is a vacation, Teyla. I mean, have you ever had one?”
“A vacation?”
“Yeah, a time away from all your worries and stress. Where you have no place to go and all the time in the world to get there, if you decide to move at all.”
“Forgetting my duties even for a short time just does not seem possible.”
A spark hits Laura’s bright blue eyes. “Hmm… maybe we should do something about that then.”
“We?”
“Yeah. We.” Laura stops outside the infirmary. “Trust me. It’s exactly what friends are for, Teyla.” With a wink, Laura steps through the parting doors.
We. She likes the sound of that. She’s had to rely on herself for so long, being the leader of her people, never letting someone else carry her burden. Even with her team, she takes on as much as possible to make sure she never lets them down. For as long as she can remember she’s been a leader, a warrior, a protector. She knows what it means to have someone else take those rolls but not what it means to leave them behind. To leave her to be… just Teyla.
“Teyla,” Laura says, poking her head back out into the corridor. “You’re still here. Good. I just had a thought…”
Teyla listens, nodding even before Laura has finished talking. “I understand.” Time to give a nudge, she supposes. She can do that.
It’s what friends are for, after all.
Rodney heaves an impatient sigh. “No, no, no!” He points at the board where easily the worst physicist in two galaxies has been pretty much doodling instead of actually doing, oh, well… physics for the real world! He pushes the man aside and erases the irritating part of the equation. “Y equals zero! Have you even read my notes on the differences in superconductivity between the Pegasus gates versus the Milky Way gates? Seriously, a chimpanzee would be able to scribble this nonsense and possibly still have time to get me a cup of coffee!”
“Dr. McKay?”
“What!” Rodney spins towards the unfamiliar female voice coming from the doorway. His jaw drops, practically unhinging at the joint as the gorgeous, redheaded Sgt. Fuller smirks at him.
“Chimpanzee at your service,” she says with a twinkle in her bright green eyes. She covers the space between them with a fluid stride, her hips subtly swaying. She holds a steaming cup of coffee out to him. “I understand you like it black.”
Rodney glances around the suddenly silent lab. All eyes are on him and the statuesque military intruder. Okay, so maybe they are on her more than him. It’s a rare occasion to have someone as intoxicating as Sgt. Fuller come into the labs. It’s not simply her looks that draw attention. The woman exudes sexuality with the simple act of breathing.
The female John Sheppard. Rodney snorts at the thought. Is there a feminine label for ‘Kirking’? Not that a term would actually apply. According to Angie, the rumors about Sgt. Fuller and the male scientists – hell even some of the female scientists – are just that… rumors. “Ahhh… right… I… um… that is…” Rodney grabs the mug, careful not to slosh any of the precious brew. “Yes. I do.” He takes a big gulp, and nearly faints at the wonderful taste as the hot liquid slides down his throat. He licks his lips, relishing the amazing flavor that is so different from the normal swill he gets from the mess hall. “This isn’t…”
“It’s from my personal stash.” She winks.
“Personal? Oh… mmm… okay… that’s…” Rodney takes another gulp, this time swirling the special blend over his tongue before swallowing.
It takes him a moment to realize she’s just standing there, staring at him. There’s the smallest hint of a smile twitching her full red lips that sends a thrill right below his belly. Damn, but the US Marines have some hot women! How it’s possible this stunner didn’t simply become a model or an actress is just beyond Rodney’s understanding. Though from what he hears, she does like her military toys... and she can shoot the button off something or other at a thousand yards, or whatever that means… something Lorne said before. All Rodney got from it was that she’s a sniper, and a damn good one at that.
But the way she looks! He’s always been fond of short hair on women, though he has a thing for blonds, there is nothing wrong with the strawberry brand right in front of him. Five-nine of solid muscle without losing a single luscious curve. And that tight black sleeveless number conforming to those ample, gravity defying breasts is making it difficult for Rodney to concentrate.
Quiet whispers start hissing through the lab. Rodney picks out individuals to glare at and they quickly get back to work, far away from him and his coffee bringer. When he looks back, she’s still staring… and that smile has turned into a smug smirk. “Well?” He demands. “Is there something you need, sergeant?”
Standing in relaxed attention, she draws her spine up straight. “Yes, doctor. I was having a conversation with Angie…” She cocks her left brow, waiting for him to catch her meaning.
Oh God! Angie! Nononono. She’s here to kill me. To embarrass me in front of my incompetent staff! Well, this will not end well. Not at all. “How nice for you. As you can see, I’m rather busy at the moment…”
He tries to turn, but her hand shoots out and grasps his upper arm firmly. “As I was saying, Dr. McKay,” her eyes narrow. “I was speaking with Angie about a certain… problem you were having.”
“I don’t have a problem. You may have a problem. But I do not–”
“You remember… the project you two were discussing while off-world. The… unfinished project.”
“Oh?”
“In fact, I too have… a similar project… that has hit a snag. And… I’m pretty sure you’re the right genius for the job.”
Once again Rodney’s mouth drops open. Did he just hear that correctly? “Oh…um… Really?”
That smug smirk is back. He doesn’t like it one little bit. It’s like she’s laughing at him. But that twinkle he caught in her eyes before has changed. If he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing… that’s a look usually reserved for the likes of Sheppard… or Ronon. She looks absolutely hungry.
Starved!
And she’s looking like that at him!
Rodney gasps inwardly. His stomach flips-flops and he can feel his muscles tightening in conspicuous places. “Just don’t be all… McKay!” He hears Angie’s words ringing in his head. “Don’t be such a gigantic pain in the ass.” He clears his throat. “What exactly are you hoping to… gain from finishing your project?”
She pops the opposite brow to devastating effect. It’s so incredibly sexy Rodney’s knees almost buckle. “Pleasure,” she says so softly only he can hear it. She licks her lips and leans in a bit. “Mutual, of course.”
“Of… course,” Rodney stammers.
Sgt. Fuller straightens. “There’s um… something seemingly off-topic I need you to… help me with before we schedule our… project time.”
“Umm… what?”
“I’m a… There’s this movie I recently watched at movie night… I enjoyed it, but I really need to hear your take on it.”
“A movie review?”
“Compatibility test, actually.”
Rodney’s confused but game. “Oh… all right. Which movie is it?”
“The Day After Tomorrow.”
There’s a loud cough and a crash of something as one of the eavesdropping scientists stumbles out the door fighting off a burst of laughter. Rodney can’t blame the woman. Any self-respecting physicist can’t help but feel the same way about something so…
He’s shaking his head before he even starts talking. “Oh, yes, let’s discuss a movie that defies all logic. Throws the requirements of the Ideal Gas Law right out the impossibly, instantly freezing and exploding hi-rise windows because we can’t have anything that’s remotely scientifically accurate and actually makes real sense in this claptrap. Sorry, but the Ideal Gas Law applies no matter how fast the air is moving… it’s going to warm up as it descends. Oh and lets not forget the 300-foot high storm surge smashing through Manhattan. What’s powering the thing? Raw enthusiasm? Certainly not the necessary 1200mph winds needed, moving at twice the speed of sound… And, in order for the sea ice to reach the 65.6 meters in height of the Statue of Liberty, 75% of Antarctica would have to melt, which would take more than 2½ years and only if all the solar radiation aimed at Earth was concentrated on Antarctica… impossible due to Earth’s axis, by the way.”
Her eyes have not left him but her face has turned so red he’s sure she’s going to hit him. Rodney takes a deep breath and holds it. He’s done it already, screwed up his one chance of getting laid because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. Dammit.
Instead of hitting him, however, Sgt. Fuller leans in close enough he can feel a ridged nipple brush his arm. The low timber of her voice is an erotic growl just next to in his ear. “That is the hottest, fucking thing I’ve heard in years.” When she straightens again, the color is still in her cheeks and her eyes are slightly glassy. “I’m off for the next several hours, Doctor.” She licks her lips, glances at his then latches onto his gaze again. “I’m sure you can find my quarters easily enough.”
“Ahhh…”
“Be ready to work on that project… hard.” Once again flashing that smug smirk, she turns then saunters out the door, this time he’s sure she’s wiggling her ass on purpose.
Rodney drops onto his stool. If he could walk, hell run, without embarrassing himself, he’d be out the door this instant. As it stands… he’s going to need a moment to breathe.
And possibly some advice from Sheppard. He’s got one shot at his, he’s sure. And he does not want to mess this up.
The doors to the south side gym slide open for John but what he sees beyond them is not what or who he expects. Teyla commed him to set up a sparring session about an hour ago. It took him that long to get to this side of the city, their usual sparring site. But, Teyla’s no where to be seen.
Angie’s alone, doing some warm-up stretches, probably getting ready to dance, and he’s instantly drawn toward her. The large, white T-shirt rides up from her thighs revealing second skin black spandex shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Her taught muscles and porcelain skin beg for the caress of his hands. Worse yet, he knows that under the shirt is a tight sports bra hugging her beautiful breasts and under those shorts, she’s going commando.
Damn!
Checking himself, John stalls at the door, letting it close behind him then he leans against the nearby wall, folding his arms across his chest and watches her. Lately she hasn’t seemed to notice he’s in the same universe, let alone in the same room. He hasn’t seen or spoken to her since that day in the gate room when he hit McKay. Of course, in his defense he’s been locked up in the infirmary for the last couple weeks dealing with withdrawals from the heavy sedatives Beckett had been feeding him during the whole ‘rash = testosterone poisoning’ fiasco.
While going through the sweats and the nausea and the heavy sleeping, John’s certain he heard her voice, felt her presence… must have been some hallucinating on his part though.
As usual, she’s wearing earphones to block outside sounds and her eyes remain closed as she goes through various stretches, which, when put together, even in slow motion, seem to make up part of a dance routine. She’s so fluid in all her moves, so graceful, John finds it difficult not to respond to her. His body is so tuned to hers he can’t break the connection to save his life. And he never wants to lose what they have.
Her very presence makes his heart beat faster, his breath stagger… she’s his lifeline in this crazy universe. She’s everything he’s never known he wanted.
And he hurt her terribly. The last person to ever deserve or need more pain in her life… and he did it. He put those extra stress lines in her face, doused the gleam in her big brown eyes… made her cry. As bad as he is with emotions, with showing affection, he’s even worse when the pain he sees in Angie is his fault. He doesn’t know how to comfort a broken heart… let alone one he caused.
“John?” She’s staring at him with wide, startled eyes. “When…”
He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between them as easily as a magnet gets drawn to metal. “Just a minute or so.”
“Wh..what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same.”
“I was here first,” she raises a brow. “And I asked first.”
“Teyla suggested we spar… now that I’m back on my feet.”
“So she can knock you on your ass again?” The tiny twitch of her upper lip catches his gaze. She’s trying hard not to smile. He misses her smile. “You’re looking goo… better,” she says. “Feeling better?”
He nods, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. He’s still in casual clothes, still off duty until Carson says otherwise. “Stopped throwing up a couple days ago.”
Her grin is so heartbreakingly polite, it reminds him of Elizabeth when he was being turned into the Wraith bug. “That’s good.” After a moment of increasingly awkward silence as their eyes dance around the room and each other, Angie goes to the bench and grabs her towel. “So… Teyla called you too?”
“What do you mean, too?”
Dabbing at her neck and face with the towel then taking a sip of water, she turns to him. “Looks like we’ve been set up. Ironically.”
The last word seems to be to herself, but John latches on to it. “Ironically?”
She flips a hand. “Nothing.” Draping the towel over her shoulders, she glances at her watch. “Doesn’t look like Teyla’s gonna show.”
“Yeah. Guess not.”
“Suppose we could… spar with each other,” she suggests.
John cocks a brow even as he narrows his gaze on her. “You do know sparring doesn’t mean killing, right.”
Angie rolls her eyes at him. “If you don’t want to--” She halts suddenly. “Déjà vu,” she says to herself. She shakes off whatever memory just claimed her.
Responding to her first comment, John says: “No, no,” as he steps toward her, grinning. As much as the awkwardness between them is killing him, he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. He sets his bag down and pulls out his Bantos sticks. “So, what do I get after I kick your ass?” he asks playfully.
She’s picking up her own sticks, her face turned away from him when she mutters: “My utter humiliation isn’t enough for you?”
That’s a hit in the gut he should have seen coming. “Angel… no…” he’s reaching for her when the first strike smacks his wrist. John stumbles back, instantly on defense as Angie viciously attacks.
With only a few strikes and a well placed kick to the back of his leg, she knocks him on his ass. “Too bad…” her grin is a mixture of triumph and vengeance which – disturbingly enough – John finds incredibly sexy. “Yours is enough for me,” she backs off and he gets up. “That and soundly working you over until you can’t move.”
They face each other, readying for battle. “So, that’s it?” John dodges as she strikes. “You think we can solve this by you beating the crap out of me?”
“No.” Their sticks clash and they both spring back. “If that was the case, I’d have let Ronon deal with you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because, he’d kill you.”
“So?”
“I may be pissed at you,” she makes a swipe for his legs, but he’s faster than before and she misses. John doesn’t miss a good thwack to her backside. “But I still love you!” She rubs at her butt.
John stops dancing a few feet from her. “You do?”
Angie stops as well. “That can’t be news to you, John. If I didn’t love you so damn much, this never would have hurt so badly.” With that, she lunges; attacking with renewed vigor that John can only defend himself against.
He rallies, battling her back until she’s visibly tiring. “We never did settle on an agreement. I mean… humiliation on my part may be good for you… but…”
She’s not yet breathing hard, but the power in her strikes is starting to wane. “What do you want?”
“You.”
“Me? How? On all fours begging?”
A flash of memory shakes him to the core: walking into his room, seeing her waiting for him. John was on her instantly. “Tell me you want me,” he demanded. “I want you,” she said back with just as much heat. He had taken her so fast and hard that time…
Angie’s snapping her fingers at him. “Not gonna happen, big guy.” Using her sticks like clubs, she gets in three good smacks, knocking his knees out from him and he goes down. Then she tucks her sticks under her arm and struts away.
Breathlessly, John pops back to his feet. “You know. If I was the paranoid type, I might believe you set up this little scenario.”
“Why would I do that?” she asks innocently, circling him, waiting for an opening.
“For my utter humiliation?”
“I could never guarantee that. Be a big risk,” she attacks again, but John’s able to lock his sticks with hers. They’re face to face, breathing each other in, all the sweat, heat and potent sexual tension almost powerful enough to knock him over again. Her eyes drift to his mouth. “Given how good you are at distracting me.” With a push, Angie spins away. “Though, I was tempted. Even got a tip from Rodney on how to pursue the issue.”
“McKay’s in on this?”
“There’s no conspiracy…” With a minute shake of her head, she adds, “That I’m part of. This–” she motions to the room. “Wasn’t my doing.”
“But it was your idea.”
Angie shrugs. “Suppose so.”
“And where does McKay fit in?”
Within seconds, she strips off her T-shirt exposing the black sports bra. The reveal of her tight, sculpted dancer’s body, the exposed cleavage and the belly button peaking out just above the rim of the shorts tightens him in places that will make it difficult to continue walking, let alone sparring. John remembers licking whipped cream off those abs, sucking a maraschino cherry out of that belly button… His breath catches and he stifles a groan. “Cheater!”
“Exactly.” Angie grins, knowing she’s gotten points. But he’s not about to give up, not with the reward so close. It’s like a mating dance, only with violence. John’s sure he’s going to be bruised in places he’s never felt but he’s not about to call a truce, that’s for damn sure. He’s never sparred with Angie like this before. Usually their little exercises are nothing more than that, little exercises that lead to a whole lot of sweaty pleasure. Foreplay at it’s most aerobic.
But this is different. This is battling the teachings of Teyla and Ronon combined with the agility of a dancer and endurance of an ice skater. This is Angie trying to teach him a lesson. But he’s not completely sure it’s one of humility. Something else is burning in her eyes. Something dark and indefinable.
A shiver races down John’s spine with that last thought. Maybe she doesn’t want him back after all. Maybe she needs to beat him out of her system.
John’s stunned when the mat reaches up and smacks him in the face one more time. He loses hold of his Bantos and just lays there. He should have seen it coming, but he let himself get distracted with worry. He doesn’t move right away and Angie’s next to him, rolling him over, straddling him, concern etched in her face and coloring her voice. “John?”
Without forethought, he reaches up, catching her behind the neck with both hands and bringing her lips down to his. Since he didn’t anticipate his own actions, he’s totally thrown by Angie’s immediate response. She’s kissing him back. Devouring him actually.
John rolls them over so that she’s pinned beneath him. She squirms and her leg slips between his, slowly rubbing him with just the right pressure. Her hands comb through his hair, fingers tickle the back of his neck and her other leg slides up to hook over his hip as a thick, needy groan ruptures from inside her.
Then they’re rolling again and Angie’s back on top. She pushes his shirt up and attacks his chest with lips and hands. She knows every part of him, as he does of her, and yet it’s as if she’s learning his body all over again. Every touch a discovery, every flick of her tongue a taste test. When her teeth graze a taught nipple, John’s whole body spasms. He grabs her face to draw her back to his lips but she grips his wrists and hauls his arms over his head.
Her eyes gleam with that darkness he saw earlier, but also a familiar hunger that always rocks him. Angie strips off her bra, her breasts burst free of restraint and she brings them down to his eager mouth. With a groan of lust, he suckles with greed. Angie’s raw, throaty moan urges him on as she leans over him. When she finally pulls away, her eyes glazed and skin blushing, John starts to reach for her again only to realize she’s been busy.
His hands are secured together over his head. Somehow she used her sports bra to bind his wrists together then wrapped his T-shirt around his hands to keep him from getting free. For a moment, John’s terrified he fell into some sort of revenge trap. That she’s going to leave him here, lying on the floor tied up with a giant erection for one of his men to find him. But that’s only for a moment. Until a slow smile spreads and she licks her lips before returning them to his chest. John lets his head drop to the mat, there’s no way in hell he’s going to argue against this kind of sparring, that’s for damn sure.
“Remember that first time in my room?” Her whisky voice rumbles against his skin making him tingle.
“Never forget.”
“You kinda had your way with me that night.”
“Didn’t get any complaints as I recall.”
She smirks at that. “Wellll,” she draws out, finally sitting up to look at him. She’s got a Cheshire grin to go along with that melt-in-your-mouth chocolate gaze that sends a flutter through his gut and a spike of heat into his groin. “My turn.”
John’s breath catches as her hands descend to the zipper of his pants. As she strips him bare right there on the floor of the gym, the last thought John has before her hands find him stiff and ready for the taking is: Thank You, God! And then everything rational flies right out the window as Angie does what she wants with him.
In the living room, Margaret’s regaling Jonathan with more stories about Elizabeth’s past. Jonathan looks up as Elizabeth steps into the room, his eyes shining, that sly smirk playing at his lips. “Perhaps Elizabeth can show me her old room.”
Elizabeth arches a brow. “Maybe later.”
Margaret closes the book in her lap and sets it on the coffee table. She picks up the cups and saucers and heads toward Elizabeth and the kitchen. “Oh, go on dear. I have to find something for dinner anyway.” She winks at her daughter. “Take your time.”
“Mom,” Elizabeth’s whispers.
“I’m old, not dead,” her mother whispers back. She turns back to Jonathan with a grin. “I’ll be busy for a while, dears. Don’t worry about me. I have my music to keep me company.” Then she goes into the kitchen, leaving the door swinging in her wake.
Jonathan’s on his feet and in front of Elizabeth. He rubs his hands over her arms. “I like your mom.”
“I bet you do. She just gave you the go ahead to violate her only child in her own house,” Elizabeth mutters dryly.
“Mmm… violate?” He nuzzles her neck. “You make it sound so… dirty.” His fingers drift through her hair and his lips graze her skin. Just him touching her is so… god she wants to get dirty, right here. Right now.
“I thought you were exhausted.”
He skims her cheek with feathery kisses. “That was before I saw you in that leather get-up for that Halloween party…”
Elizabeth remembers that outfit. It was her third year in college. A fraternity party with her boyfriend, they’d gone as a biker couple. Her mother nearly had a stroke when she saw the picture.
Jonathan’s hands go still on her shoulders and give her a little squeeze that sends tingles through her body. “So?”
“Stairs. End of hall, on the left.” She catches his gaze. “I’ll race you.”
Jonathan flashes that dangerously sexy grin. If he’d been around in her teen years, there’s no way in hell she’d have been a virgin in college. “What do I get if I win?”
“Me.”
He makes a face. “I already get you.”
She leans in and caresses the shell of his ear with her tongue. “Me doing things… dirty things… to you… for you.”
When she leans back, his eyes have darkened, dilated and his breath’s halting. “Go,” he says roughly.
With a slight giggle, she’s past him and up the stairs to the landing only to be lifted up and carried the rest of the way toward her old bedroom. He closes the door then drops her onto the four-post bed and lands on top of her. Elizabeth laughs. “Tie?”
“Guess that means we get to do dirty things together,” he grins then kisses her thoroughly.
Elizabeth has always been a good girl. She decorated her room with delicate scarves, flowers and a few tasteful pictures. No posters of rock stars or movie idols for Margaret and Franklin Weir’s daughter. No sports memorabilia, only plaques of achievement, declarations of knowledge. She never snuck out of the house as a kid or teenager. She kept to her curfew and didn’t date until she was sixteen, and even then it could only be social events like the prom or something.
She kept up the good-girl routine all through college, though she did have a boyfriend by the time she was twenty. She believed she loved him and finally had sex… lots of sex. But that was college. That was life. Always doing what was expected of her. Always playing it safe. Vanilla sex. Vanilla life. She’d never gotten her hands or anything else dirty.
Until Atlantis.
Until Major John Sheppard.
Oh, but being dirty with him is so delicious.
Elizabeth sinks into her childhood bed, wraps her legs around Jonathan’s waist and grinds against him until he moans. “How did I get so lucky with you?” he asks in that deep voice that makes her crazy.
“You’re outrageously hot,” she says with a grin and another rub against his growing hardness. Jonathan chuckles as he stands up and turns away from her. “What are you doing?”
“Weren’t you going to show me your bedroom?”
Elizabeth props herself up on one elbow then points out specifics. “There’s the bathroom, there’s my dresser, those are my bookshelves and this,” she pats the mattress. “Is my bed.”
Jonathan’s gaze languishes on her prone form. He grins then goes over to the books still lining the wall. She’ll have to tell her mother that the maid service is still one of the best. They haven’t missed a spot or dust bunny all these years. If it wasn’t for the faded wallpaper, Elizabeth could still believe she was a teenager living in this room.
While he’s looking around, Elizabeth gets up and locks the door. She kicks off her shoes and socks then returns to the bed and sits to watch him. He seems fascinated by the romance novel titles, even tilting his head to the side to read the spines of the books. “Jon?” His head drops and he closes his eyes as if trying to grind away a headache. “Are you okay?”
With a curt nod, he says, “Give me a minute.”
“Why?”
He turns to her and the look in his eyes is pure predator. A shiver races the length of her spine. Warmth spreads between her legs. Her heartbeat slips into overdrive.
Something’s going on inside him. Something she probably doesn’t want to know about. At least not right now. Elizabeth wants to believe, needs to believe he is seeing her, not Angie through Col. Sheppard’s eyes. Still, there’s a niggling part of her brain that can’t let go. “Jonathan?”
His dimples do something funny to her insides. “Not images, I promise.”
“But…?”
He shrugs. “Can’t help getting worked up around you, baby. That seems to be a universal constant for a man in love.”
Appeased, Elizabeth grins. “Okay. So… what now?”
He moves from the bookshelf to the window and looks out. “I snuck in through here. I’ve been watching you. Wanting you.”
“Me?”
“Seeing you undress. Such a tight, nubile body. So beautiful.” His gleaming eyes settle on her again. “I have to have it. I know your parents have gone out of town. You’re all alone. Vulnerable. Fresh.”
“So you’ve come to take me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“No,” his voice is barely audible. “I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll beg me to fuck you all night long.” Elizabeth licks her lips. God, she wants him so bad right now. “It’s late,” he says softly. “You should be asleep.”
She lies down on her side, her eyes on the window, watching him. “But I’m not.”
“Why not.”
“I’m waiting for you.”
“Waiting?”
“I’ve felt you watching. Felt your hunger. I’ve been wanting… but I know it’s wrong.” She rolls over, away from him.
Jonathan’s on her, pushing her onto her back. He grabs hold of her hands and clasps them over her head. “You’re scared.”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t scream.”
“No. It’s wrong… but…”
“You want it. You want me.”
“Desperately.”
Jonathan braces her face with his hands, sinking his fingers into her hair. “Are you a bad girl?”
“What do you mean?” She asks in all innocence.
“How old are you?”
Elizabeth lets her eyes wander over the room again. She grabs hold of Jonathan’s gaze. “Sixteen,” she says breathlessly.
“You ever been kissed?”
“No.”
Jonathan kisses her lightly, just a feather touch of his lips to hers. “That’s for beginners. Now we get down to business.”
“Okay.”
He takes possession of her mouth with his, plundering and tasting, eating at her, forcing her to accept him and she does. He feels so good… strong, demanding. If she’d still been a virgin, hell yes, she’d have already come just from Jonathan kissing her.
“You want me to touch you, don’t you?” he says. “You want me to do things to you that you’ve only read about in those trashy books.” He smiles wickedly. “Tell me, Elizabeth, have you ever touched yourself while reading those books?”
She turns her head away, biting her bottom lip. Jonathan forces her to look at him. “Tell me.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you touch yourself?”
“My…breasts…”
Jonathan pulls off her shirt in a fluid move. His hands cup her, his fingers slip the lace from her breasts so he can pinch her already hard nipples. “No one’s tasted you before.” His mouth is hot and demanding as his lips mold to her flesh. His teeth scrape making her back arch and she rises up to meet him.
She pushes at his shoulders. “No… this is wrong.”
Jonathan’s gaze latches on to her again. “So I’m going to have to make you feel you have no control. Make it clear this isn’t your idea.” She nods. “You want me to seduce you into acceptance. Maybe even…” He glances around the room. In a shot he’s away from her again and Elizabeth wonders if he’s changed his mind about the game.
Please, no, she was just getting into it. How many times had she fantasized about something just like this? Vanilla teenager or not, she had still been a hormonal mess when she was sixteen. She did read those novels for the sex… and yes the romance, but still the sex scenes she memorized, replayed them in her head as she went to sleep at night. The mysterious stranger who showed up in a small town and took the heroine hostage, seduced her thoroughly, only to have her fall madly in love with him. And he was always some anti-hero, handsome to the point of distraction, daring and even deadly, but he, too, fell in love, and would die for the heroine if necessary by the end of the novel. And they always lived happily ever after.
But it was the dirty parts she remembered. The hot, mind-numbing smut she craved as a teenager. And right now, she wants to continue this game to the end. Wants to live the fantasy. She is already so wet for Jonathan. That predatory gaze of his almost made her come undone with one look.
As suddenly as he was gone, he is back. And this time, his hands are holding the ties. He snatched the scarves from the lamps and one from the bathroom doorknob. That’s four. Her eyes widen, she only used two on him.
Lying down on top of her again, using his full weight to hold her in place, Jonathan grabs her hands and ties her wrists together then hauls them over her head and ties the scarf to the headboard. A second scarf he knots in the center. He looks down at her wide eyes and smiles before grinding his pelvis into hers. She gasps at the engorged feel of him trapped in his pants, her mouth opening and eyes closing. Next thing she knows, that knotted part of the scarf is in her mouth and he ties the rest around her head.
Her eyes open wide. “Jon?” the muffled question lost behind the scarf.
“Shhh… it’s okay little girl… I’m gonna make you scream with pleasure… we don’t want to wake the neighbors.”
Ahhh… or bring Mom running up the stairs to have a heart attack. Elizabeth is going to have to remember that there is a potential audience here… even if that person insisted she give Jonathan the ‘tour’ she probably wouldn’t welcome tie-me-up games in her house.
And it is wrong! Doing this here. In her mother’s house? In her father’s house! Suddenly Elizabeth isn’t so sure she wants to go through with this. But then Jonathan’s hands are on her skin again; hot, rough but tender. Always tender. He dances his fingers up her sides, over her ribs, making gooseflesh rise. He’s kissing her breasts, suckling, cupping and she’s moaning and arching into him again, though she tries to fight it. Tries not to give in to the fire that burns so hot for him.
She’s not sure how or when but he’s got her pants unzipped and down her hips. He lifts her slightly and pushes them over her buttocks and down her legs. Jonathan sits up, he’s grinning at her wildly and she knows why. She’s wearing white cotton panties today. She hadn’t considered he’d actually find them a turn on. In retrospect, both her bra and panties play pretty well into the fantasy, though if she’d been sleeping she would have been in a nightgown. He would have simply pushed it up over her head and taken her hard and fast.
But no, he promised not to hurt her. He’s not a rapist. He’s a seducer. A romance novel anti-hero come to rescue the heroine of her virginity. Elizabeth almost chuckles at the thought. She loses it though when his mouth comes down over her panties and his tongue tickles her through the light cotton. Her hips buck, legs spasm and Jonathan lifts his head to grin at her again. “You taste good, baby. Sweet. Innocent.”
He peels off the panties. They’re drenched with her wanting him, not that she couldn’t feel it herself, but seeing it is almost embarrassing. Jonathan’s voracious grin doesn’t make it any easier either. In fact, it makes her blush… all over.
He releases the front clasp of her bra and pushes the straps up her arms. She’s bare to him now. He takes all of her in and licks his lips. Elizabeth’s heart stutters. How could this gorgeous man want her so much? Yes, she’s kept in shape, but she’s never considered herself beautiful. Skinny, not curvy, and though her breasts manage to defy gravity, her modest B-cup lacks substance. And yet he constantly looks at her with such want. Such need.
She quakes with longing for him. “Please, Jon,” she gasps through the gag.
“Shhh… easy baby girl. I’m going to take real good care of you.” Jonathan lifts one leg high in the air and runs both hands up it from thigh to foot, where he loops one of the remaining scarves around her ankle then ties it to the footboard. Elizabeth squirms, she’s not sure if she’s getting closer to coming or if her nerves are kicking in again, but either way, Jonathan uses it in his game. He drops on top of her and stares hard into her eyes. “I’m going to have you, baby girl. I’m going to make you come. Show you what you want. And you’re going to let me, you understand. You have no say in the matter. You’re mine now, sweetness. All mine. And we have all the time in the world together… we’re all alone, you and me.” He kisses her cheek so softly, lovingly. “No one to hear you scream for me.”
She has never wanted him more! Just do it, Jon. Do it now! As much as she’s actually enjoying the scenario, Elizabeth knows her mother is just down the stairs making dinner for God’s sakes. Probably humming along to the little radio she has stashed in there. Trying to keep her mind off the two newlyweds in her house.
Jonathan ties off her other leg, leaving her spread open for him. He did a good job with those scarves too. She really can’t move much more than bending her legs slightly. She can’t exactly break free in a second if something unseemly happens, like her mother bursting in the room.
Please don’t let her mother come upstairs. Elizabeth hopes she’s making some epic meal down there. Taking her sweet time. Thank God she locked the door. Though, in all fairness, the lock’s pretty crappy. Not exactly a deadbolt, there.
Jonathan slips off the bed, his eyes never leaving her body. He strips out of his clothes, slowly, methodically as if showcasing himself for her. She’s seen it before and always been impressed by his beautiful form sculpted with hard work and exercise. And the maleness that makes her body shake with desire juts out between his legs, swollen and glistening. “You’ve read the books, baby girl. You know where this goes.” He runs a hand over his erection making it twitch. “I’m going to sink it inside you so far, fill you up so good you’ll cry with joy.”
Yes, oh yes! Please!
“Then I’m going to pull it out of you and shove it back in so hard and fast over and over again, making your body dance for me. All for me.” He crawls back on the bed from the foot, so that he’s between her legs. “You’re all mine now. No one to save you from what I can do. No one to stop me from having you here and now.”
His fingers tickle the length of her left leg toward her apex. “But I promise you’ll want it. Want it so bad you’ll be screaming for me to fuck you. And you will. No one else will hear you, but you’ll be screaming for me.” His grin is almost brutal. “You’ll scream for me.”
As the tips of his fingers reach between her legs and part her, she nearly does scream. He sinks one inside her instantly. His face hardens with control. She’s sure it’s the storytelling that’s letting him keep that control. He wants to play the part, give her the fantasy he somehow knows she’s always wanted. If it wasn’t for the damn gag, she’d yell at him to just forget the fantasy and fuck her lights out. But at the same time… she does want to play. Knowing that they have their whole lives to be together, it’s good to know their sex life will never get boring. Even if they succumb to the once a week or God forbid, the once a month routine that most marrieds fall into, it should at least remain sexy and exciting.
He’s taking his time with that damn finger, searching her out, testing. Jonathan knows her body, knows how to make her come, but as the mystery man it would be his first time with the virgin. He wouldn’t know exactly how to make her respond. “You touched yourself like this when you read those books. Didn’t you, Elizabeth.” When she doesn’t answer, he yanks the finger from her body and drops full weight on top of her, his erection pressing into her stomach. “Don’t make me angry, little girl. I’m doing this for you. You better appreciate all I have to offer you, sweetness. I could take you now. I’m ready. And it would hurt, being your first time and all.” He drags that sticky finger down her cheek. “Now, answer my question. You touched yourself,” his free hand cups her mound and a different finger delves inside her. “Just like this, didn’t you.”
Elizabeth nods. She gnashes her teeth into the knot on the gag. Involuntarily her hips jerk against him when his knuckle hits the right spot inside her. “Oh… she likes that.” He rubs the spot again, harder and Elizabeth’s eyes roll back. She grounds out a groan through the gag, her hips rising off the mattress. “You are a bad girl, sweetness. I’m going to really enjoy teaching you pleasure.” Jonathan adds another finger, keeping pressure on that internal nerve center. Then he’s thrusting three fingers inside her. Elizabeth’s muscles clench around him and he groans a low “Fuck.” She opens her eyes and he’s chuckling. “You’re not supposed to know how to do that,” he says in his normal voice.
Elizabeth arches a brow and offers a shrug. “Sorry,” she grins around the gag.
Jonathan kisses her nose. “You wanna quit?” She shakes her head. She was so close to release then he stopped. And he knows it too, that’s why he’s laughing. Jonathan nods, kisses her nose again then gets back into character in a big way. He twists his fingers inside her body, moving them in and out fast and furious.
The only thing keeping her on the bed when she finally comes is the weight of is body on hers. She doesn’t scream but she does whimper. “That was a good one,” he says in that dark voice again. “Bet you’ve given yourself some good ones with those books of pirates deflowering maidens.” He isn’t asking her a question so Elizabeth keeps enjoying the little spasms shooting through her body, giving herself a chance to catch her breath. “You want me, don’t you? You want me to push my dick inside you and make you squirm. Just like those virgins in the books.”
Her eyes wide, feigning fear, Elizabeth shakes her head.
“Are you sure, sweetness? I think you’re more than ready for me.”
She shakes her head again. Jonathan’s eyes glisten with that predatory gleam. “All right then. Guess I’ll have to convince you.”
He slides down her body until he’s kneeling between her legs again. His erection bobs and twitches. It must be painful and yet he’s still willing to play the game. Jonathan never fails to astound her. As cynical as it is, Elizabeth’s pretty sure any other man, husband or not, would look at a naked woman tied up on a bed and not really care so much about getting her off. Even those anti-heroes could be quite brutal with their heroines.
But Jonathan could never be that way. He isn’t anti anything. He is a true hero. And a true lover. Even with that dark hunger in his eyes, Elizabeth can still feel his love for her. The set of his mouth, the sparkle in his gaze, the tenderness of his touch. Everything about him reminds her of how much he treasures her.
Then his mouth is on her again, though not hindered by panties this time, his tongue laps at her, tickles and teases. She’s squirming from the heat boiling inside, from the friction. Every nerve ending in her sings as he gives in to his desire to force her into a climax. It certainly doesn’t take long for her to come this time. Jonathan’s always been talented with his mouth. He grins at her as she cries out, her sobs of pleasure stunted by the gag.
“You want me now, don’t you sweetness. My sweet sixteen.” Elizabeth’s mind whirls back in time. She’s sixteen, lying on her bed, having just finished another romantic spy novel, the ones her friend Darla always managed to slip into her backpack at school. She falls asleep and dreams of a mystery man touching her, guiding her into endless pleasure. The man never had a face. Until now.
She opens her eyes to see Jonathan hovering above her, arms braced on either side of her head. “You’re mine now, sweetness.” He plunges inside her, lifting her body off the bed with the heavy thrust and Elizabeth does scream with delight… in her head. She’s cognizant enough to remember that this is her old room, she’s visiting and dinner is probably simmering downstairs… with her mom waiting patiently for them to finish being naughty.
Jonathan’s slowly taking her back to the brink with each stroke of his body in hers. His control is maddening. She’s come twice, amazingly hard and still feels the remnants of that second one and he’s working in her as lovingly as if she is that virgin idol he’s been stalking… desiring with such hunger. A part of Elizabeth actually wishes Jonathan had been her first. She has no doubt that her first time would have been as good as this is now. Not some fumbling, random act in a dorm room with her boyfriend’s roommate pounding on the door to be let inside so he could study.
She sure didn’t get an orgasm that night. But Jonathan’s made up for a lot of what she was lacking in her previous existence.
Jonathan moves to change position and Elizabeth whimpers because she is so close. “I going to be buried so deep in you, sweetness, you’ll never forget me. I’m going to ruin you for all others.” Jonathan yanks on the scarves around her ankles, releasing the ties from the bed but not from her skin. He lifts her hips so that her knees actually hook over his shoulders and he pushes inside her again, leaning forward, bringing her legs up along with him, arms bracing at her sides.
Elizabeth grimaces, it’s not like she really is sixteen and that flexible anymore, but Jonathan’s too busy shoving himself inside her with increased speed and power, deeper as promised and soon Elizabeth’s body is so warm and sizzling she doesn’t remember she’s not that limber anymore. She doesn’t care. Every part of her is begging for him to continue. His movements become ragged, his breathing erratic; his control has definitely shattered as he takes her body for himself now.
Elizabeth’s right along with him, whimpering with each powerful thrust, pushing against him, grinding and clenching the muscles she’s not supposed to have; that thought makes her clench again just to hear him grunt. She wants to wrap her arms around him and hug him close as his release combines with hers, but her arms are still secure above her head so she bends her legs over his shoulders, digs her heels into his back and pulls him down onto her as much as she can.
Jonathan’s movement stutters as a groan rips from his throat and he’s pulsing inside her as she’s tightening around him. Dark spots cloud Elizabeth’s vision as her third orgasm shatters illusion and brings reality and the power of her love for Jonathan back to the fore. Blinding white hot pleasure shoots through her body in wave after wave and this time, the scream doesn’t stay in her head.
Elizabeth opens her eyes. Jonathan’s staring down at her, his brows creased with worry. The gag is gone and her arms are free. He’s caressing her face gently. “Are you all right?”
“What happened?”
“I think you fainted.”
Elizabeth blinks. She’s still tingling. “Wow. That’s a new high for you, huh?” Jonathan looks at her curiously. She giggles. “You just fucked me into unconsciousness.”
He chuckles softly. “If you say that’s a good thing, I’ll buy it.” He gives her a sweet and chaste kiss on the lips. “I smell steak. You hungry?”
“Starving.”
Jonathan sits up then glances over his shoulder at her. “You don’t think your mom heard us do you?”
“I’m keeping my fingers crossed she has headphones for the radio in the kitchen.”
“And she turned up the volume really high.”
Elizabeth nods. “We are so not normal. Even for newlyweds, you know?”
“That’s a good thing too… right?” Jonathan leans over and kisses her again.
She sinks against him with a sated sigh. “I’m enjoying it.”
John’s eyes roll back in his head as Angie’s body grips him, nearly to the point of pain, but the pleasure of being inside her is so overwhelming, he even welcomes the pain of getting his ass kicked.
She stalls for a moment, swaying her hips, rocking and grinding on him instead of the all out fucking of a moment ago that was steadily bringing him to the brink. Her hair has fallen loose of the ponytail and drapes over her shoulders as she hangs her head with a guttural moan. She’s doing this on purpose, he knows.
Already she’s had three orgasms compared to his one. And that first one she made him have to get it out of the way. Devious wench that she is, Angie knows his body well, knows that he can stay hard longer the second time around if she does little things to make it happen; moves he can’t control his reaction to. Her pat answer to any question about knowledge is: “I read it in a book once.” These intimate touches though, John’s pretty sure she learned over their time together and just stuck them into that steel trap memory of hers to be brought out in times of… what else could this be but War?
War of the Wills… though John’s not entirely sure that’s true. How can there be a war when both parties are on the same side. He’s definitely on Angie’s. Still, he remembers when they got together. When ‘Jax’ was running the show, not letting anyone in, not letting Angie out. Angie can still be her own worst enemy.
Slowly she leans forward, letting her hair and breasts brush erotically against his chest. She braces her hands on his shoulders, holding him down though he has no intention of trying to move. Every time he’s tried to take even an ounce of control over the situation, even the slightest thrust of his hips, she’s put a stop to the action, first with her body then with her eyes. After a while, John finally understood that there was more going on here than a simple fuck to get him out of her system. He can’t read her mind, but he can guess this whole power trip isn’t really about being in control of him as much as it’s about him letting her have control. She needs this. Needs him to let her do whatever she wants.
And it’s not exactly a hardship on him, anyways. God, she feels so good!
As she starts grinding against him from this new angle, John clenches his teeth, he’s getting close again but he doesn’t want to let it end. They’ve been apart for too long. Once the physical desire is quenched, he knows the gut-wrenching horror will need to take place.
The Talk.
“John, open your eyes.” He does, seeing her looking down at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in her for a long time. She kisses him then, gentle feather-light touches of her lips to his. Her fingertips dance over his cheeks then disappear, leaving an unwelcome coolness on his face. He wants her touching him, caressing him as she used to. Not that this whole female empowerment isn’t sexy as all get out but he wants to feel her with him. Wants her to touch him with love not just lust.
He wants her back, dammit.
A moment later, she rolls them, wrapping her strong legs about his body, crossing her ankles and pulling him on top of her. Her fingers tackle his binds, freeing his hands finally. John braces above her but doesn’t move.
“What are you waiting for?” She asks plaintively. “Fuck me, John.”
He stares into her dark eyes, seeing what she’s trying so hard to hide. “No,” he says, though he doesn’t make a move to leave her. Instead, he gentles his fingers down her cheek to her mouth; his thumb traces the fullness of her bottom lip.
“What d’you mean–”
He cuts her off with a heated kiss. She tries to turn her head away but he holds her still with one hand. The other glides down her side slick with sweat until he reaches her ass and grips it firmly. Pressing himself into her and holding her against him stops any possibility of her initiating more thrusting.
Angie breaks the kiss, heaving for air. By turning her head, she gives him access to her neck, which he takes full advantage of. A soft moan escapes her lips followed by another plaintive whine. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” he asks against her sweet skin.
She pushes at his shoulders. “John, just get on with it.”
He lifts his head so he can grin down at her. “I am.”
“I told you to–”
He kisses her quiet again. “And I said no.”
“Really?” Her wide eyes stare at him incredulously. “Then what the hell are we still doing like this if you don’t plan on finishing?”
John flashes a crooked grin. “Oh I have every intention of finishing both of us off. But… you changed the rules when you let me go. I’ve been waiting too damn long for this.”
“For what?”
“To make love to you again.”
“Semantics, Sheppard. Just start moving. We’re almost to the good part and you know it.”
John shakes his head. “From where I’m at… all of ‘em are good parts.”
“You’re really going to fight me on this?”
“I’m kinda pesky that way.”
“Pigheaded is more like it.”
John grinds his pelvis against hers earning a low moan that rumbles through both of them. “Whatever you say… but this game’s far from over.” He loses the smile as he rubs a knuckle against her cheek. “And I plan on taking my time.” His other hand slips between them and he finds something even better to rub. “We’ve got a record to break.”
Angie’s breath catches. “Bastard…”
John captures her mouth again; a deep, wet, messy kiss that only spurs him on to do exactly what he’s been hoping for. To show her how much he’s missed her. How much he truly loves her.
It may be cheating, but John knows exactly how to work her body to make her surrender to him and he uses everything in his repertoire for that purpose. Besides, she cheated first.
When Angie’s seventh orgasm hits, John’s right along with her, spilling what’s left of his energy inside her as they both delve into the abyss.
John wakes with a start. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but doesn’t care either because Angie’s lying on top of him, zonked to the world. He wraps his arms around her; his fingers gently trace the bumps and dips of her spine. She stirs, glances around to get her bearings then looks up at him. John smiles. “Welcome back.”
Angie clears her throat. “That was…” she clears her throat again. A blush colors her cheeks.
“Us.” John finishes for her.
With a sigh, she rests her cheek against him. “Yeah. We’ve always been good at that,” she says, playing with the hair on his chest.
“Look… Angie…” Now it’s his turn to clear his throat. Trying to find the right words at a time like this is not really in the John Sheppard handbook of couple repair. He’s never been good with words. Actions yes, words… sticking his foot in his mouth is always a good bet at the best of times. He just can’t screw this up. Not now. “I… ah… I know I have to gain back your trust…”
With a heavy sigh and an even heavier groan, Angie rolls off of him and plops onto the mat next to him, staring up at the ceiling. “You don’t trust me, John… that’s the problem,” she says quietly.
It takes him a moment to comprehend what she’s just said and even then he doesn’t understand. “What?”
“How could you have thought, even for one second, one millisecond, that I would leave you on that planet alone? You should have known that, no matter how long it took, I would have come for you.”
He winces as he rolls to his side. She won’t look at him, even as he runs his hand down her arm and links his fingers through hers. “You have to understand something, Angel. By the time you might have found out what had happened… might have actually found me… I could have been in my sixties…”
“So?”
“Or long dead.”
That makes her turn to look at him and the horror in her eyes coupled with unshed tears makes him wish he could take back the words. Her soft, “Oh…” doesn’t make him feel any better but it does let him know that she at least understands that part of it.
“And I didn’t know any of it either,” he adds on instinct. “I had no clue why it was taking so long for someone to come through. Atlantis could have been attacked for all I knew. But I never gave up hope of getting back to you.”
A tear slips toward the mat making a tiny puddle. John catches the next with his knuckle. “It was a long, insanely boring time and the only thing that did keep me going was you. Just thinking about you made me make it through one more day. I was so mad at McKay and everyone else… but you were always in my heart. I couldn’t get the ache out. I wanted to touch you so bad. Wanted to hold you.”
With a sniff, she turns her eyes back to the ceiling. Again she clears her throat. She’s quiet for a long time. “What happened… with her?”
John shakes his head. “I don’t want to…”
“Not an excuse, John… an explanation. Doesn’t mean I have to like it… or accept it… but I will hear it.”
John tells her about Teer’s mental abilities. What he believes happened. He doesn’t sugar coat it. He tells her the truth. “I knew it was a lie… I just… wanted it to be you… to be real so damn bad…”
Angie nods, still not looking at him. “I see.” After another long silence, she moves to find her clothes.
John stays on the floor. “Angel?”
She’s halfway to the door with her bag when she looks back. The tears have slipped down her cheeks. “Can you move?”
“Nope.”
Angie opens the door, cocks her brow and smiles brightly. “I win.”
John chuckles to himself. That’s my girl!
One-half hour! He’s already wasted half-an-hour searching for Sheppard. What was he thinking? What the hell is he thinking? He shouldn’t be trudging through the city on his way to find Colonel Kirksome who can’t be bothered to wear his headset all-the-freakin’-time. Even though he’s supposed to be in charge of the whole damn shebang while Elizabeth’s on holiday! Though, technically, Rodney is actually at the helm until Carson gives Sheppard the all-clear and returns him to duty. But still! Can’t the man avail himself when necessary?
Damn. Rodney should be in Sergeant Fuller’s full-bodied embrace at this exact moment. When she whispered into his ear, he nearly fell over. She’s waiting for him and he’s… looking for a man! What the hell is wrong with him?
And where the hell am I?
Rodney taps the transporter and it zips him to the corridor leading to the gym. Teyla obviously wasn’t herself when she let it slip about Sheppard’s whereabouts. Something’s off with her lately. She’s distracted. She’s usually better at keeping mum when the man doesn’t want to be found. Not that he’s hiding or anything… well, maybe he is a little. He’s been through the ringer lately—emotionally and physically—and probably needs time to himself.
But he’s Rodney’s friend and sometimes that has to come first. Rodney has to admit, if not out loud then to himself at least, that there are some areas of expertise that he has yet to master. Personal areas, not professional, of course. Cadman was correct when she told him he needed help dealing with the opposite sex. Being a genius should grant him some leeway in that area, but so far… not-so-much.
Rodney’s so lost in thought as he rushes down the corridor—what if he says the wrong thing to Maddog, what if he’s not… enough for her… what if—that he doesn’t see who he knocks over until he’s two steps further down the hall than the body sprawled at his feet. “Damn. Watch where–”
“McKay if you finish that sentence with anything other than an apology, I’m gonna do some serious damage to your lower body parts.” Angie growls, pushing herself up from the floor and dusting off her hands.
“Ohhh… um… sorry.”
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“You owe me for the last time too.”
What is she nuts? Oh wait, this is Angie. “Sorry?”
She shakes her head. “Guess that’ll have to suffice.” She folds her arms at her waist. “What bug crawled up your butt to make you race around like a lunatic anyway.”
“Oh… I need to speak with Sheppard and Teyla said he was busy in the gym…” His eyes widen as Rodney looks Angie over: her slightly blushed complexion glistening with perspiration and the glassy look in her eyes… damn, she’s glowing. “Or did you do your damage and leave only a steaming husk behind?”
“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re asking,” she chuckles with a whisky laugh. Damn if that voice of hers isn’t new and improved when it comes to creating all kinds of naughty thoughts.
Not thoughts about her per se, just… well… in general… it’s damn sexy. Rodney raises a finger. “Ah… but will he live to regret this most recent encounter of your… of you two?”
Angie’s slow smile makes her look even more lovely and dangerous. “He’ll live… with no regrets.”
“And you?” He can’t forget the reason her voice is so different and he knows she’s still trying to come to terms with what happened to her.
Angie sighs, the light in her eyes dimming a fraction. “We talked. Or I should say… I listened.”
“But…?”
“I didn’t tell him about what happened… what I remembered… happening… with Kolya.”
“Well, why the hell not?”
Her shoulders sag and she heaves another sigh. “Must you disrupt my afterglow! I’ll get around to it. He’s not going anywhere. We’ve established… repairs.”
“But he still thinks you’re mad at him, right?”
Angie nods her head side to side. “Possibly.” She brightens with enthusiasm. “But I gave him numerous–”
Rodney holds up a halting hand. “TMI–”
“—feelings of bliss,” Angie finishes. “I’ll get to the other thing… later.” She raises her brows, her eyes pleading for understanding. “I’m just not ready yet.”
“But… you two are back together… right?”
She slowly nods. “More or less.”
“See! It’s the ‘less’ part that’s not good in this situation. The man very nearly killed me in a jealous rage and–”
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a black eye for crying-out-loud. He got far worse from Ronon, on top of turning all blue, remember.”
“Quite a painful black eye, mind you. And I’m not in the mood for another. So… Tell the man you love him and you forgive him and beg for his forgiveness if you’re still delusional enough to believe you need it–”
“McKay!”
“Angie!” Rodney waves his hands in front of his face, wiping out her words before she can utter them. “You survived. Sheppard survived. Ronon and Teyla survived. You did nothing wrong no matter how infinite the multi-universe may be. You in this space-time continuum did nothing wrong. Now… get over yourself and move on for all our sakes.”
Her eyes narrow as she glowers at him. “You really know how to motivate a person, you know that, McKay.”
“Yes… well… I’m multifaceted and a genius.”
“So you constantly remind us. Now, what are you doing down here, shouldn’t you be putting that brain of yours to work on, say, building us ZPM’s or something equally spectacular.”
“Hah! You jest, yet you have no idea what I’ve uncovered from Janus’ secret lab on PXT-705. I’ll have you know that such a discovery is not only possible, it may even be within reach… someday.”
“But not today?”
Rodney glances at his watch. Forty-two minutes. Damn. Damn! “No. I have an important meeting and I’m running very late.”
“Down the rabbit hole?”
“Hmm...what?”
Angie grins, shaking her head. “If it’s with John, he’s clearly not expecting you.” She cocks her head, watching him, taking a step closer.
Rodney straightens to the point of looking down his nose at her. As much as he likes Angie, he really doesn’t need this closeness from her. She smells earthy and womanly… ah hell, she smells like sex! Clearing his throat, Rodney tries not to breathe in deep; tries to keep his mind on his mission and off the fact that there is a woman waiting for him right now who just might smell the same way once he’s done with her. “I really need to talk to Sheppard.”
Angie’s grin grows enough to show the whites of her incisor teeth. “She came after you.” When Rodney raises his brows, Angie nods. “Sharon. She did it. She staked her claim. I’m right. Huh. Aren’t I right?” Angie grips his arm. “Tell me I’m right.”
Rodney brushes her hand away and steps back. “I… um… what if she did?”
Angie laughs, a deep belly laugh like the one she let loose after he fell on his face that night on Lartnec Msagro. She claps her hands. “Damn, if I didn’t call that one right.” Angie pats his shoulder. “Well, what are you waiting for, McKay. Go get you some.” Her brows rise. “Trust me… you need it.”
“I know that!” Rodney can’t believe he’s having this insane conversation with her… again. “I just needed to–”
“Talk with John?” Angie shakes her head. “Even if the man is conscious right now, which I highly doubt,” she flashes that devilish grin again. “I did kinda wear him out. You don’t need any advice from him, McKay. Trust me when I say… whatever you do will be just fine.”
“But, you told me not to be myself.”
“Oh, that’s right. I did, didn’t I.” Angie scrunches up her face a little. “And… I freely admit to being wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“So wrong. Rodney… go get that woman and just be all the Rodney McKay you can be.”
“Well, oh… what?”
“It’s a crazy universe. But Sharon likes you just the way you are.”
“Wha… really?”
“Mmm hmmm. And you know how you like to put people down, talk all superior and sciency.”
“I do not… sciency—that’s not even a word.”
“Work with me here, buddy. Go for it. Bring on all the genius you can. Geek out. Just so long as you use your hands and other… appendages… to get the job done.”
“Well, but I…” Rodney glances at the door to the gym. He looks at his watch. He looks at Angie who’s grinning back and nodding. “Really?”
“Go get her tiger.”
Rodney bounces on his feet for a second then: “If you’re sure.”
“I promise,” she says with all sincerity.
Hearing that, Rodney rushes back toward the transporter, chooses his destination, turns in time to see Angie giving him two thumbs up as the doors close.
Rodney checks his breath before knocking on the door. Okay, be myself. I can do that. I’m good at that. I’m me!
He gives the door a quick knuckle rap and a moment later it slides open. Maddog—Sharon—is leaning against the door frame with one arm propped over head, elbow bent, hand ruffling her short strawberry blond locks; green eyes shine at him. “I must say, I expected you sooner,” she says dryly though there’s a slight lift to the corner of her mouth.
A moment later he’s inside her room as she grabs a fist full of shirt and pulls him roughly inside. The door swishes closed behind him. “You really know how to make a woman hot and bothered, McKay.”
“I… do? I mean… you expected me to just drop everything for you, Sergeant?”
“Call me Sharon.”
“Fine. Sharon. I have the most important job in this city. Not to forget that I’m in charge since the Colonel went off his rocker with the rest of the group when you all went Crayola crazy. This place wouldn’t run without me.” She’s still holding onto his shirt, and not for the first time, Rodney realizes she’s not only taller than him, but so much stronger she just might be able to hurt him with those well-honed muscles if she puts them to good use. Oh, please let her put them to use!
“Tell me about it,” she says huskily, drawing him further into the room. Her free hand brushes down his stomach to the top of his BDU’s and she pops the button with ease.
Rodney’s gaze drops to her hand and his pants then back up to see the smile in her eyes. She licks her lips as she grins at him and all he can think at that moment is how soft those rosy lips look, how sparkling her eyes are… how hot she’s making him and they haven’t really even touched yet. “Tell you about what?”
She dips her mouth close to his but still not touching, a breath away from kissing. She smells like coffee. It makes his mouth water. “What you were working on that was so important you couldn’t simply walk away, come to me and get busy.”
“The superconductivity of the Pegasus Stargates versus the Milky Way Stargates.”
Her gaze locks onto his. “Is there a significant difference in the applied magnetic fields?”
Rodney’s shocked she even remotely knows what he’s talking about and he’s sure the shock registers on his face, but the sergeant—Sharon—doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, her eyes dilate significantly. She’s turned on by his underestimation of her.
“Not as significant as Type I versus Type II but enough to cause concern regarding the breakdown of The Meissner effect. In wh…ich… ca…ha aaa…” Her hand dips inside the front of his pants, grazing him.
Those glossy lips hover near his. With a fluttery nuzzle she tantalizes the corner of his mouth. “Traveling between the two galaxies could be hazardous to our continued health…” she moves to the opposite side, her warm breath and voice sending zingers of pleasure throughout his body. “Should the applied magnetic field become too large, superconductivity is abruptly destroyed.”
Rodney has never been so turned on in his life! “Exactly.”
Another moment and his pants are down around his ankles. Sharon drops her trousers with one downward zip exposing glorious nakedness underneath. His mouth hangs open as he stares at her bared, very neatly groomed mound at the apex of her long, sculpted legs. She could have been a Playboy Bunny. A Victoria’s Secret model! What the hell is she doing in the military? Sharon lifts his chin with a forefinger. “I’ve been waiting for you… wanted to be ready.”
“Ready is… good.” Rodney’s breath halts in his chest as she grips him, working him through the opening of is boxers, stiffening him up so much, he’s sure to embarrass himself and burst right into her hand. He groans and his eyes cross. This is the closest he’s gotten to sex in so long, he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold out, much less make it enjoyable enough for her to give him a second shot. “Do you… I don’t have…um…”
“Military women get implants, standard, McKay. Plus… you and I are practically virgins out here compared to everyone else, am I right?”
Rodney tries to digest the thought. “Virgins?”
Suddenly Sharon’s perched on her desk, pulling him between her legs by his shirt collar. “My, my Dr. McKay… the brain in your head isn’t the only one worth recognition and praise.”
“…ahh…”
“You gonna do something with that or is it just for show?”
“You…” Rodney realizes he has hands and moves to touch her, but she grabs his wrists and lifts both hands to her breasts. Her nipples tighten and strain against the fabric, pressing into his palms. Rodney gulps. “But you’re… so hot!”
She grins wolfishly and he wonders if that’s why she got the name Maddog. “McKay?” He manages to take his eyes off her body and look her in the face. “I’m hot for you. Right now.”
Rodney blinks. Maybe he’s still on that misty planet from last year and all this is some wild dream and he’s actually dying a slow and… well, pleasurable death. He feels almost giddy. A crazy bubble of glee almost bursts from him even though laughing right now would be the worst possibly scenario, he can’t help but think this is some crazy cosmic joke.
“Let’s do this,” Sharon says, gripping his head and pulling him into a hard kiss. Rodney forgets to laugh. Forgets to breathe. All he can do is taste her. Feel her. He nearly falls forward as her powerful legs wrap around his hips and trap him against her. Sharon’s free hand moves between them, skillfully gliding over him. She leans back, pulling him with her and raises her hips then guides him home, pulling him in with the those gorgeous legs. They break the kiss on a mutual gasp. “Ohgodyes!” she cries.
Rodney sucks in noisy air. He can’t move. Not yet. If he so much as blinks he’s going to erupt… she’s so damn hot and wet… and feels so good he can’t even think. But he has to. He has to get his mind off of the perfect body surrounding him, the perfect woman holding him inside her. Think McKay. Think! For the first time in his life, Rodney can’t remember more than 3.14 of pi!
“It’s about fucking time!” Sharon howls. Her hands trap his face and she pulls him in for another kiss, deep, wet, full of pent up lust. “Hope you’ve got a strong heart, McKay. It’s gonna get a workout tonight.”
Giving up on trying to hold back, Rodney yanks off her tank top and buries his face in her glorious breasts as she leans back, giving him room to lunge. “Right back at ya.” He grips her hips and pulls her to the edge of the desk so that he can move faster. “Oh yeah!”
Sharon groans and lets loose a lusty chuckle. If there ever was a sexual encounter not being taken seriously except for the pleasure it induced, this was it. Rodney feels the weight of the world leave his shoulders as he moves within her tight sheath. She bucks against him and he pushes himself deeper inside her. The desk squeaks in protest, banging into the wall with the power of their joining.
Oh, yeah, he remembers sex now. Heaving, thrusting, pushing, pulling. Harder. Faster. Yeah! Oh goddamn he remembers it all now.
And it has never felt this good!
It’s over within moments, he’s shuddering and spilling himself inside her. Rodney marvels that he even lasted that long. “Gah… uh…” He knows she didn’t get off and it makes him sad even as the pleasure steals down his spine. Now she’ll never let him redeem himself. He might as well become a monk once the gossip gets around that he’s ‘no John Sheppard’.
Well, crap!
“Sorry,” he mutters under his breath.
Her hand grazes his chin, pulling his gaze up to hers again. “Don’t worry,” she grins again. “I’ve got plans for you, Mr. Genius.”
“You mean…”
“Everyone on this base seems to be getting in on all the fun except you and me. It’s not fair, and it’s not right.” Her eyes sparkle. “You’re one up on me now, but not for long.” Sharon scoots off the desk, reaches for his shirt and peals it over his head. With that wicked grin in place, she tosses it over her shoulder, places her hands on her hips and waits. “Strip, baby. We’ve got some catching up to do.”
Rodney’s not only shocked by her obvious interest in a repeat performance—hopefully with more success on his part that is—but it’s almost as if she’s ready for battle and has chosen him to be on her team. “I’ll have you know… I’m actually quite good at this.”
“Oh, McKay. I have no doubt. You are the smartest man in the galaxy, after all. I’m sure you can figure out how everything works… and have wonderful results for both of us.”
Her confidence in him bolsters his ego. Rodney kicks off his boots, toes off his socks then strips out of his boxers. By the time he’s done, he’s surprised to see his other genius is once again ready for action. And as an added bonus, Sharon seems to like what she sees… pudgy middle and all.
“If you haven’t noticed yet, McKay… I’ve got a thing for big brains.”
Rodney grins, not feeling the least bit foolish or self-conscious given the look she has in her eyes. “As you can see, I come fully equipped in every way.”
With another chuckle, she’s pushing him down onto the bed, pretty much hopping on for a wild ride. Rodney doesn’t miss a beat rolling her over and under him. For his own peace-of-mind, he has to redeem himself first. And to do that, he has to learn every inch of her body before burying himself inside her again.
Well, maybe not before… but as close as he can get. Like she said, they have a lot of time to make up.
Angie closes her eyes and leans into the hard pulse of hot water spraying away her sweat and the few tears she shed earlier. Her heart nearly burst when she finally heard John. Not the sordid details about the mind-bending sleaze-of-an-ancient-ho who should just come on down from her almighty-higher-plain and face her woman to “I’m-so-gonna-kick-your-ass-for-all-eternity-bitch!” woman. “No one screws with John—brains or body—except me dammit!” No other woman is ever gonna get her hands on my fiancé ever again!
No man either! Might as well ad that little caveat given how many out there actually think John swings to that side of the fence. She’s heard the rumors… and there’s no way anyone’s going to make a play for him like that. Not ever.
With a firm nod, Angie’s brain simmers down; her heartbeat slows to the tremulous thud that almost killed her with joy back in the gym. She heard John. Heard his love for her, his need for her. Not just anyone, but her. She didn’t have to hear the words, not really. His voice, his face… God that gorgeous face and those haunted eyes. She’ll never forget those eyes no matter how long she lives.
He has secrets, her John. Secrets he’ll probably never share, even with her.
But… dammit, John Sheppard loves me.
Enough to forgive you?
Damn that little voice still sounds so much like Jax.
Jax, who usually had a good point to make… and unlike Angie, didn’t shy away from telling the truth.
Damn that Kolya and his mind-fuck to hell… because of him, she still has doubts about John being able to forgive her when he learns the truth. When he learns how truly weak she is, was and probably always will be.
What if John fell in love with Jax? Fell in love with the solid, strong, kick-ass woman… not the helpless, emotional wreck that hid inside the hard candy shell?
What if John can’t accept her as she is now… coward and all.
Angie’s securing her robe belt when she walks into her room and nearly jumps out of her skin. “Damn girl, stop being so stealthy.”
“Coulda killed you all kinds of nasty even with you doing the one woman pissed against the holier than all get out ascended ho’s in there,” Laura chuckled, leaning against the wardrobe.
Angie towels her hair dry. “Sure, catch me in a shower and I’m all wet. But don’t face me in a dark alley, chica.”
“Is that a challenge, little girl?” Laura pushes off the closet with her shoulder. “I say it’s time for a rematch.”
Angie looks up, smirking. “High noon. East Pier.”
“Water balloons loaded and ready.” Laura plops onto Angie’s bed with a little bounce. “Name the day and it’s a date. Let’s bring Teyla. She needs to get the fun in. Something’s up with our Athosian leader.”
“We’ll grab Maddog too. She should have some interesting stories to tell that’ll get anyone out of a funk.” Angie tosses aside the wet towel. “She made her move on McKay today.”
Laura covers her eyes. “Don’t tell me.”
“Isn’t covering your ears a better plan?”
“I’m trying to keep the images from burning into my brain.”
Angie laughs and gives Laura a friendly shove. “You and McKay.” She shakes her head. “You know, for a while there, I thought the back and forth banter was kind of…”
“What?”
“Foreplay.”
Laura shoves her back, harder. “Eeew!” She shudders excessively. “I’ve been in the man’s head… it’s not a pretty place.”
“Oh, please. You shared his body, you didn’t read his mind. I know all about it, Cadman. You can’t go making stuff up now. Besides. I’ve gotten to know him pretty well recently. He’s not so bad.”
“Not you too.”
“I’m no groupie…but… he’s a funny drunk.”
“Drunk?”
“Well. You were busy… he was there… we chatted. I flashed him.”
“You what!”
“Huskin hooch, girl. That stuff is lethal.”
“Is that why Sheppard decked him?”
“Naw… that was because of Lartnec Msagro. The leader there is rather, um… it was a thing that could’ve turned into a thing so I bunked with McKay.”
“Again. You what!”
“He was a complete gentleman… and a good friend when I needed one.”
Laura waves a hand. “Fine fine.” She shakes her head. “I just don’t get it. I mean… it’s McKay. He’s just so… McKay.”
“And apparently that’s exactly why Sharon wants him.” She pats Laura’s leg. “So be a good friend and support those who are finally getting the orgasms they need.” With a grumbled sigh, Laura agrees but she’s obviously not happy about it. Angie studies her for a moment. “So… no afterglow in Scotland, I take it.”
Laura’s shoulders sag. “I don’t wanna be a downer. Tell me what happened at the gym. You’re looking mighty relaxed.”
Angie lies back on her bed, lazily tossing her arm over her forehead. “I take it I have you to thank for that encounter?”
“Teyla too.” Laura says, lying down next to Angie, mirroring her friends pose. “We wicked women must stick together in these trying times.”
“I’ll thank her later. Right now I just don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted.”
“That good, huh?”
Angie chuckles, “Oh, it’s always good. But… it’s this weight of not knowing what went wrong, you know?” Angie tells Laura about the evil that was Teer.
“She knew she was going after a taken man. Not only that but she knew he really wanted you and she used it against him!” With a helpless flutter of arms, Laura sits upright. “This is the kind of person they let ascend!”
Angie yawns. “Makes ya wonder huh.”
“What?”
“Who the hell they think they are to look down there noses on us.”
“Yeah huh!”
“I was just so worried that he knew about Huskin somehow… maybe saw it through Cloneman’s eyes.” Angie yawns again, trying to keep her eyes open.
“Saw what? What about Huskin?”
Angie shakes off the drowsiness as much as she can. “Oh, nothing.”
“Na ahh, girlfriend. You can’t go all cryptic on me like that. No secrets anymore, remember.”
“I… aah… it’s just something I have to work through. Not a secret secret… just…” she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kolya and crap, you know?”
“Can’t talk about it… or won’t?”
“For now, let’s leave it at maybe later.”
“Okay. For now. But you’ve gotta get shit off your chest, girl. What that man did to you… wish I coulda killed him a thousand times over.”
“Yeah,” Angie says softly. Still, a part of her is grateful to the maniac. The man did torture and drug her and try to brainwash her, but he also kept her safe from his men. Took care of her in his own weird way. A shudder rushes through her. Angie’s heartbeat picks up and she squeezes her eyes shut, refusing the panic attack to take hold.
Change the subject. Now! “Your turn,” she tells Laura. “What happened with Carson?”
Laura lies back down, lacing her fingers together on her belly. “We’re having grown up issues, I suppose.”
“What kind of issues?”
Laura sniffs quietly and Angie rolls onto her side, watching her friend. Ever the Marine, Laura refuses to cry but she can’t quite hide the pain in her eyes. Angie rests a hand on both of Laura’s. “He says with me returning to my Daedalus assignment next month and him staying on Atlantis it’s like a long distance relationship without the frequent phone calls. Too much time and distance between us… blah blah blah.” She sniffs again. “I knew I shouldn’t have used the ‘L’ word… it was too soon.”
“Oh puushaa! Men love the idea of two women naked together.”
That gets the requisite chuckle Angie’s hoping for, but it doesn’t last long. When Laura turns her head toward Angie, the tears slip. “I think he wants to end it without us ever really getting anywhere.”
“Oh sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Laura shakes her head just enough, letting loose one more sniff. “The problem is… I think he might be right.”
“General!” Elizabeth calls, her smile bright. She rushes to catch up to Jack on his way into the SGC mess. He’s dressed down in basic green today, something she hasn’t seen in a long while.
A quick glimpse of the past flashes through her mind: SG-1 sitting at the conference table with Kinsey and her, Jack stared right at her, challenging her that first time. ‘Who are you? And what are you really doing here?’
“Dr. Weir,” Jack says in his usual affable tone. “Hunting for more closets?”
Elizabeth blushes and shoots him a stink-eye. He is never going to let that go. She clears her throat. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, you know,” he steps into the cafeteria. “This and that. More of that than this these days, but who’s counting.” He turns, eyes widening. “Pie!”
Elizabeth holds in a chuckle. Jack will always remind her of a boy at play, no matter how much gray hair he sports. “Jonathan and I are leaving on the Daedalus tomorrow.”
Jack picks up a tray and gets in line, holding up a finger and turning to look at her. “I knew that.”
“Is that why you’re here? To say goodbye?”
“Oh, aren’t we all full of ourselves,” he says with a grin. Jack grabs a pie slice on a plate. Apple. It actually looks appetizing so Elizabeth takes one as well. She watches with amusement as Jack eyes the forks until he sees one he wants and whisks it from the bin. She’s less picky, taking the first one she sees. He points to a table and they sit across from each other.
“I know,” Elizabeth chuckles lightly. “You want to see Sam.”
Jack mimics hushing her and waving his hand around as if whipping her words into the air will keep anyone from overhearing.
“Sorry,” Elizabeth mouthed. “When’s SG-1 supposed to return?” Something happened with Colonel Mitchell off-world. He’s been accused of murder. Elizabeth doesn’t believe it. Jonathan’s beside himself with worry that some alien culture is using Cameron as a scapegoat, so he’s off beating the crap out of something. Obviously, Jack came by to check on things… and see someone special among them. Even if they’re no longer his to command, SG-1 will always be his team.
Elizabeth wonders how Jonathan will get by on Atlantis, watching Col. Sheppard go through the gate with Ronon, Rodney and Teyla, leaving him behind. She worries he’ll be bored. A bored Sheppard is a dangerous thing. Especially when paired with a bored Angie. Elizabeth cringes at the thoughts racing through her mind. Angie and Jonathan either at each others throats, beating the crap out of each other or worse yet… playing in the halls of Atlantis like she and Col. Sheppard do.
What if Angie and Laura get to Jonathan! Oh God… the mayhem would never end. She’s going to have to find something for him to do besides be her husband.
“They’re tying up loose ends,” Jack says solemnly, digging into his pie. “Carter’s excited about the new toy she’s getting the specs on… but…Mitchell’s gonna have some things to work out, I take it. Something about the aliens screwing with his memory.”
Elizabeth blows out a breath. “A lot of that going on.”
“What?”
“Angie.”
Jack lights up at the name. “How is my girl? Still determined to be with Sheppard?” He motions with his fork. “The Colonel, that is.”
Elizabeth grins. “You should know better than me, Jack. I haven’t received any e-mails from the City since I got here. What’s going on with them?”
“Oh, you know, the basic,” he shrugs. “A bug induced rash, testosterone poisoning, rampant fights, the cure caused unforeseen Smurf syndrome.”
“What!” Elizabeth can’t believe it. Has her City been destroyed from the inside out? She leaves for a short time and everything falls apart!
“Relax,” Jack grins. “That’s what Angie called it. Something about the cure for the rash turning everyone blue, except, of course, the people who were off-world at the time getting the cure. That’d be her, McKay, Ronon and that pretty Teyla woman.”
“She just goes by Teyla, Jack,” Elizabeth says, trying to get herself under control. “What about the other?”
“Oh, some space flea ran amok. They got it handled. Nobody died. The City is still standing. But I’m sure you’ll be happy to get back. Make sure in person.”
“Not for another twenty days.”
“Elizabeth,” Jack shocks her by placing a comforting hand over hers. “They’re fine. I’m just messing with you. You’re home is still intact.”
She smiles, fighting the sudden lump in her throat. Home. A deep breath and a hard swallow is all she needs to clear away the emotions, but she’s sure Jack can see them written on her face. “It’s that obvious, huh.”
“What?” He asks pulling his hand back and grinning. “That Earth is just a vacation spot to you both now?” He chuckles. “Have you seen the way your husband’s eyes light up when he thinks of Atlantis. Even pizza and beer doesn’t do that to him. The man is in desperate need of a fix. And so are you.”
“There’s something so… right about being in the City.”
“There you go again, getting all bright eyed. You two are some kind of match, you know.”
“I know.” She watches Jack for a moment. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Making him feel…”
“Human?” His eyes dance with amusement.
“Like one of the guys.” She shakes her head a bit. “Jonathan… he’s different than Sheppard.”
“So I’ve noticed.” She raises her brows and Jack continues. “More of a people person. He needs the contact. The connections. Sheppard… not so much. I mean, I know about his attachment to Angie being chemical and all–”
“He loves her, Jack.”
“He damn well better given how gaga she is over him.” Jack waves off his statement. “You should have seen Jonathan and Mitchell together… two peas, as the saying goes. Never would have guessed those two didn’t grow up together. And then there’s Daniel,” he shakes his head. “Something happened a while back…he’s been in a dark place.”
“The Ori?”
“Daniel blames himself for that… I’ve told him too many times over the years… don’t touch anything… but he’s a boy at Christmas when there’s a cave full of artifacts. But it’s more than the Ori. He told me about Vala. Watching her get burned alive and then both of them going through it, only to come back here in the nick-of-time. The two people they switched places with…” He shakes his head. “And then Vala going all lone wolf MacGyver on the team and figuring out how to destroy the Ori beachhead.”
“She didn’t make it, I understand.” Jack shrugs. Elizabeth shudders. “It’s a heavy burden. Both Johns understand that kind of weight…”
“But with your guy, Daniel has someone to grouse with over the high-n-mighty PTB. Even if neither of them remembers much of anything, they’ve both been somewhere we can’t imagine. It’s a connection I think he needs.”
“You could always assign him to Atlantis,” Elizabeth says with a grin.
“Yeah…not gonna happen. Daniel’s staying put where I can keep an eye on him.”
“Oh, Jack. You have to cut the cord sometime. Children grow up… it’s what they do.” Off Jack’s snarl, she smiles around another bite of pie. “You let Angie go.”
“That was different. That was to save her life. And she can take care of herself and anyone else who gets in her way.” When Elizabeth drops her gaze to her plate Jack drops his fork with a clatter. “What?”
“Hmm?”
“What was that look. What haven’t I been privy to?” When she doesn’t answer right away, Jack narrows his gaze, giving her a dangerous look. “Elizabeth.”
She takes a deep breath and smiles politely. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“Uh uh. I know that look. That’s not a ‘nothing’ look. You know I’ll find out anyway. Might as well get it off your chest now, save both of us pain and suffering. And by that, I mean save you.”
After a moment of waffling, Elizabeth sighs. “She had a little set-back recently. Nothing major, just some… post-traumatic stress thing.”
“Not again.”
“No… not like last time. Nothing so severe. It was… Kolya.” Elizabeth winces at the dark rage glittering in his eyes. “I can’t tell you everything. I can’t break her trust. If she wants to tell you she will.” This time she covers his hand for comfort. “She’s strong, Jack. She just has to work a few things out.”
A throat clears near the door. “I’ve only been gone an hour and you’re already holding hands with another man?” Jonathan tiskes with mock jealousy.
Elizabeth smirks at her husband. “You’re the one who wanted time alone in a gym full of sweaty men.” Though he does look scrumptious in sweatpants and a T-shirt sinfully fitted to his sculpted pecs.
“That’s my cue to say: don’t ask, don’t tell,” Jack grouses with suppressed laughter.
“Jack,” Jon nods.
“Sheppard,” Jack returns.
Jonathan slides into the chair next to Elizabeth’s. She wrinkles her nose. “You need a shower.”
He leans in and nuzzles her neck. “Wash my back,” he whispers so only she can hear.
Elizabeth pulls away enough to look into his eyes dancing with desire. She gives him a quick kiss on the lips. “Packed?”
“Ready to blow this pop stand.” He glances at Jack then back at Elizabeth. “Did you ask him?”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Oh… I can’t believe I forgot! I’m such a bad mommy.”
Jack’s brows jump. “Mommy?”
“It’s my dog, Jack. My girl Sedge. She needs a good home.”
Jack waves a hand. “Oh that. Yeah, Carter tried already. I can’t. I’m allergic too. Don’t worry, though. Carter said she’d come up with something. Maybe Siler would like a dog. We won’t leave you hanging, Dr. Weir. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’m getting another piece of pie…and you,” he motions to Jonathan, “really need to take a shower. Not enough ventilation in here for the likes of you, Sheppard.”
Jonathan grimaces. “Sorry, sir.”
Jack leaves them, his usual sly half-grin just blooming. Elizabeth grazes her hand down Jonathan’s thigh; his muscles tighten under her touch. “Still want help getting sudsy?”
“Absolutely.” He grabs her hand and tugs her out of the mess.
“Supply closets are for personnel only,” Jack calls.
Elizabeth and Jonathan both nearly fall over as they stutter to a stop and glance back at him. Elizabeth can see the redness creeping up her husband’s neck and feel her face flush. “Thank you for that useful information, General,” Elizabeth says through clenched teeth. Jonathan’s at her back, pushing her out of the room.
The few people in the mess who see the exchange stare with confusion. Jack simply smiles. “Newlyweds.”
To their chagrin, a round of “aaahs” and applause follows Elizabeth and Jonathan down the corridor.
As John makes his way to the control tower, several people who’ve been giving him dirty looks for the past couple weeks now look him in the eyes, nod and say “Colonel” as though nothing has been amiss. Seems the gossip grapevine has gotten back around to him and Angie again.
Oh, who’s he kidding? Without Elizabeth and his descended twin from another timeline, Angie and he are the only thing to gossip about. Talk about people who need a fix of daytime drama in their lives. He always thought soap operas were over-rated on Earth. But they’ve been on for decades… maybe there is a reason behind that madness. People need a distraction from their own lives. Anybody else’s will do just fine. And it seems he’s looking a whole lot better in everyone’s eyes now that he and Angie have started mending fences.
John’s not sure how he feels about that. The only one he really cares about believing in him is Angie. But at the same time, losing the respect of his people… he never had much respect from peers before… losing it was a blow he hadn’t expected to hurt so much.
Losing Ronon’s trust has been the hardest to deal with. The man simply won’t let him explain or apologize. Sure the big guy’s been willing to beat him to death under the guise of sparring, but John’s not that stupid… or desperate for redemption.
Teyla’s been trying to help, basically being a chaperone when the two start working out. But something has been going on with her for several weeks now. Something she’s been unwilling to share. And she hasn’t been around much lately. With their team on stand-down, she’s been rather aloof. She says she’s meditating… but John’s sure he keeps seeing her heading for the mainland as much as possible.
“Now listen, li’l un–”
“Don’t start with me, Kat. I’m not in the mood.”
John turns, seeing both Lt. Laura Cadman and Dr. Katriana Morgan emerge from the transporter. They both nod to him but continue on in their way, their conversation hushed.
“You damn well better take some advice,” the Brit says, her accent heavy with emotion. “Or you just may lose the best thing–”
“Oh, you’re one to talk, Miss Mensa genius.” Cadman motions to the control room. “Done anything about that yet?”
“Keep your voice down!”
John keeps walking, watching and listening as the two women hiss at each other. He glances at the control room where Lorne is standing with McKay. The major does not look pleased about something.
“McKay, just give me Howard or Jung. We’ve worked together before. They both fit in fine with my team.”
“Look, I know Morgan’s a snobby brit, with an ego the size of–”
“Yours?” Dr. Morgan says cheerily as she sidles up to the console nearest McKay. Nothing the man says or does seems to ruffle this woman. She’s funny to boot, makes John chuckle thinking about the time she made McKay face up to the pheromone doohickey fiasco.
“Plus thirty percent,” Cadman adds with a grin.
John’s at a loss, but the look on McKay’s face is priceless. Lorne doesn’t look much better at having been caught trying to ditch the good doc from his team assignment. “Sorry,” Lorne clears his throat. “It’s not that we ahhh… I mean, I ahhh…”
Dr. Morgan’s eyes flare with amusement and something else. “I understand, Major. Believe me, I do prefer to work in my lab in any case. Both Howard and Jung are excellent in the field and they enjoy it immensely. The only reason Dr. McKay insisted on sending me out into the wilds is because he’s unable to cope with the fact that I am smarter than he is and have more control over my verbal faculties when dealing with coworkers.”
“That is insane!” McKay blusters. “You are not smarter than me.”
“She’s got the proof buster,” Cadman says with glee.
“Really?” John moves in. “Whip it out.”
“It’s her Mensa score, Colonel,” Cadman grins. “Thirty percent higher than our resident ill-mannered genius. And she was three years younger than him when she took it.”
“Three years!” Both John and Lorne say at the same time.
McKay’s obviously flustered. “Mean’s less than nothing. Everyone knows girls develop faster than boys.”
“And when are you planning on catching up, McKay?” Cadman laughs.
“Bite me,” he mutters.
“What was that?” Cadman moves in.
“Hmm? Nothing. Didn’t say anything.” His blue eyes flash with a secret.
“I think someone’s verbiage is rubbing off on McKay,” Cadman claims. “Who is it, Rodney? Not Angie, she’s a bit cruder, though she has gotten Ronon to spout a few choice Earth phrases here and there.” She shakes her head. “No… I think it’s someone else. Someone secret.”
“You’re babbling, Cadman. She’s not making any… I don’t know what she’s talking about… what are you even doing up here. You’re a soldier… go do… soldiery things.”
“Yes that verbal acuity is so stellar!” Cadman winks at Dr. Morgan.
McKay squirms and Cadman’s eyes light with amusement. Oh, she knows something all right. Something McKay doesn’t want shouted to the world. John wonders why that is. What could she have on him?
He’s going to have to ask Angie. Whatever Cadman knows, Angie surely had a hand in finding out.
Just thinking her name draws John back to their encounter in the gym yesterday. She was wild, unrestrained… and so damn vulnerable it almost broke him. Physically she almost killed him. He woke a couple hours later, stark naked, spread eagle for anyone to see. Luckily she’d locked him in with a password that only took about twenty tries to figure out. John smiles at the thought, feeling a flutter in his chest. It surprised and excited him, knowing she chose those three words to cage him in and keep him safe.
“You’re glowing like a woman, McKay,” Cadman says moving in to study him.
John had made it to his quarters where he collapsed from exhaustion. Carson was a little leery when John kind of limped into the infirmary just an hour ago. But the good doc took one look at John’s stupid ass grin and knew something good had happened. Something damn good. ‘I love you’. Three very powerful words had kept him from leaving the gym.
What? McKay’s a woman… “He’s not two people again, is he?” John asks suddenly back in on Cadman’s strange rant.
“And just what are you doing here, Colonel?” McKay’s typical bark rings out, though it’s lacking in righteous anger. Something is off about him. He looks slightly embarrassed. McKay never looks embarrassed. Okay there was that time with the kiss… but that was months ago.
John offers a polite if condescending grin. “Carson released me. I’m back in command, McKay.”
The scientist visibly deflates. “What? He didn’t tell me!” McKay taps his headset: “Carson! Carson I know you can hear me!” Obviously not getting an answer, McKay shuts off his com and glares at John. “That’s not fair. He should have informed me.”
“I’m informing you, McKay,” John grins. Poor guy. He so wants to rule the world and if not that, Atlantis will do nicely. “Now, what’s this about McKay glowing like a woman?” Several snickers make John glance around but no one catches his gaze. Lorne and Dr. Morgan are off in a corner, rather cozy it seems…
“-nothing against your skills…” Lorne’s whispering.
“I understand,” she smiles.
“…possible distraction…”
“Couldn’t have that.” Dr. Morgan brushes her fingers against the major’s hand before turning to leave. She looks pointedly at Cadman. “Ask already.”
John shakes his head. Did he really just see that? He catches Lorne’s gaze and raises his brows.
Lorne clears his throat and rejoins the group. “So what’s this about McKay glowing?”
“Oh, haha. What are all you people doing in my tower anyway? Shoo… go find someone else to disturb. I have too much work…”
“McKay,” John says lightly, hands stuffed in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Not just your tower.” He turns to Lorne. “Jung can replace Severs.” Severs had to return to Earth when his sister got sick. “And have a check up.”
“Sir?”
“Preventive measures are good for all kinds of relations, Major.”
Lorne blushes and bites his lip for a second. He gives a tight smile. “Thank you, Colonel.”
John nods then heads for Elizabeth’s office. “McKay, please tell me you haven’t left a pile of reports needing to be written or other paperwork undone.”
“No, Mr. Facebreaker. I’ve been perfectly capable of doing Elizabeth’s job as well as my own while you’ve been unavailable. Don’t see why she didn’t leave me in charge to begin with. Everyone knows who really runs this place.”
“Dr. McKay,” Sgt. Fuller appears on the other end of the bridge.
“What!”
Maddog doesn’t flinch at McKay’s harsh tone, not that John would expect a soldier like her to. She simply smiles indulgently at the man as he turns to face her. “I’ve come across something you need to see immediately.”
John clicks his ear piece. “Ronon, Teyla–”
“They’re on the mainland,” Cadman mentions.
John frowns. He probably looks like a pouting boy, but… that’s just not right… he should know where his team mates are at all times.
“I’m sure Dr. McKay can handle this one, Colonel,” Maddog says with a strange gleam in her eyes.
“Sergeant, if you think I can just drop everything at a moments notice…”
“I know your time is valuable, Dr. McKay. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t rather urgent.”
“Urgent?”
“And I’m quite positive you’ll be able to resolve the matter in record breaking time,” her grin melts into a sly little smirk.
McKay’s gaze bounces around the tower as his feet start shuffling in place, like one of those cartoon characters trying to run but unable to move from the starting point.
Cadman snorts and rubs her hands over her eyes. “This is too ridiculous for words.” She lowers her hands and stares at McKay. “Just go already. My brain is starting to smoke.”
“What? Never mind. Mind your own business.” McKay looks at Maddog. “Fine. Show me this urgent matter. But I’m warning you, it better be spectacular and not some colossal waste of my time,” he says, though lacking his normal snark and actually sounding rather… excited.
Maddog turns and struts away with McKay yapping at her heels, being as belligerent and condescending as usual, though John gets the impression it’s for show.
John shakes his head, going into Elizabeth’s office. “I’m out of it for a little while and this place goes all Melrose on me.”
Cadman knocks on the door frame as John takes his seat behind the desk. “What can I do you for, Lieutenant?”
“Sir… I was hoping to extend my stay on Atlantis… when the Daedalus leaves again next month.”
“I don’t know how Caldwell’s gonna feel about another extension.” She looks crestfallen. “How ‘bout I ask about a permanent transfer instead. Possibly give you your own team?”
She brightens considerably. “Really sir?”
“You’re one of my best people, Cadman. I’d much rather have you out there,” he motions to the gate, “blowing things up rather than on the Daedalus collecting dust.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Besides. You mess with Mckay’s head….” he grins, “I like it. And you keep Angie sane.”
“I don’t know about that… the last part any way,” she chuckles.
“You’re the Ethel to her Lucy. She’s the Lavern to your Shirley.”
“You do realize you just cast me as the goody-goody in both those scenarios, sir.”
“What’s your point?”
“Blunted, obviously. I know things have started to get better between you two. Yesterday being a big step.”
“Do I have you to thank for that engagement?”
“Teyla too, of course.”
“Of course.” He leans forward on his elbows. “I’m just not… there’s something still not…”
“It’s Kolya, John,” she sighs, dropping rank and just being his friend. “You have to get her to talk to you about it. She’s hiding something… just not very well. And it’s eating her up inside. She won’t tell me…” She makes a face. “But I think McKay knows. I think he’s been trying to help her.”
John nods, but he’s seething inside. Rodney knows something is hurting Angie and he hasn’t told him? Well, he’ll get the little weasel to talk…
What the hell!
John grips the sides of his head and closes his eyes tight. After all this time. He drops his fists to the desk then his forehead lands with a slight bang. After all the suffering. He thought it was over. Thought he’d gotten through the worst of it. How could this be starting all over again? Was there no hope? No cure? No God? John bangs his fists on the desk in time with his head.
“Sir, are you all right?” There’s alarm in Cadman’s voice.
Why now!
John shakes his head side to side, not bothering to lift it to look at her. “Fine. They’re just at it… Again!”
With steam rising around them, Jonathan’s biting Elizabeth’s shoulder, jerking his hips frantically as he moves roughly inside her. He’s behind her, arms caging her as his fingers mold her breast to his palms. One hand abandons a breast and slides down her slick abdomen, over her taught belly and dips between her thighs. Her breath hitches, the soft mewling sound that escapes bounces off the shower tiles. “Shh!” he orders in her ear before catching the lobe in his lips and tugging. “You deserve this,” he whispers harshly. “Don’t you.”
She nods only slightly. He’s got her crushed between his body and the wall, her cheek resting against the cold tile. “Yes,” she hisses.
“You were a bad girl, Liz.” He pushes deep, hard, forcefully and she bites her lip, holding in the moan of pleasure, he’s sure.
“Bad,” she agrees.
“Dirty.”
“Yes.”
They’d abandoned the mess hall and made their way to the showers, located, unfortunately in the communally shared locker room of the SGC. Jonathan shook his head at Elizabeth as she opened the door and peered inside. She grinned at him, “All clear.”
One thing he’s learned about his wife, she’s always up for an adventure, no matter how naughty…
Jon pulls away abruptly, leaving her heaving and shaking against the shower stall. Without a word, he turns her to face him, grabs her neck and halls her in for a messy, deep kiss. “My Venus,” he whispers over her lips.
“I’m not clean yet, Jon,” she says back, then nips his bottom lip. “And neither are you.” Her fingers trail over his still hard erection.
…Once they’d slipped into the locker room, Jon found a maintenance sign that he put outside in the corridor and Elizabeth locked the door after he returned. Then she started stripping for him. “General O’Neill is very handsome. He knows how to treat a lady,” she teased.
Jon picked up on her game instantly, playing the jealous lout who would show his woman that she better not flirt with anyone else…
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, pinning her back against the wall as he lifts her by the hips. She wraps her legs around his waist and draws him in deep. He fuses his mouth to hers to keep them both as quiet as possible.
Jon lifts her legs over his forearms, pulling them apart wider as he plunges deep into her, pounding ruthlessly, so close… so close… almost….
“Hey, Sheppard.”
Jon stops suddenly, his heart thudding in his ears, his vision nearly gone white with purest pleasure only to have to halt at the wrong second. He and Elizabeth stay locked together, afraid to move, her widened eyes meeting his. She bites her lip and shakes her head. He glances at the closed curtain containing their lone shower stall. “Cam?”
“Yeah, buddy. Ya know, dog tags are best kept on the body… even in the shower.”
Elizabeth runs a finger around his pert nipple and Jon nearly stumbles back. “Um… not a soldier anymore, Cam. Not in this universe anyway.”
“Yeah, still… you should keep ‘em. Specially living out there in Pegasus.”
“Good point.” Elizabeth nuzzles his neck and Jon grits his teeth. She is so going to get it. “Heard you had some trouble on that planet.”
“Oh, you know… shit happens all the time ‘round here. I’m okay.” Cam grunted. “I’ll be okay. I was afraid I’d miss seeing you off,” Cameron clears his throat. “Doc just released me, so I’m headed home for a nice hot shower. I’ll… see you and the misses tomorrow bright and early.”
“Okay…” Jon calls from behind the curtain. “Glad your back safe and sound, bud.”
“Yeah… Uh… SG’s Two and Three are returning from an Ori thing pretty soon… you… ahh… don’t wanna use up all the hot water. Those guys can be a bit… ornery about stuff like that.”
“Oh… thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
Boot steps retreat and Jon and Elizabeth look at each other, sigh and try not to laugh at themselves. She looks so beautiful. So young and happy. She’s delicious and Jon’s about ready to start in all over again. Just as he leans in to kiss her…
“Oh, um… and I’m ahh sorry about the lock, Elizabeth,” Cameron adds, his tone wry. “We’ve been trying to get maintenance to fix it for a year.” He chuckles as he leaves this time.
Elizabeth’s blush can’t be blamed on the heat from the shower, she closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I can never show my face again.”
“Your own damn fault, Miss Adventure Seeker.”
She slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, if you hadn’t been taking so damn long, we’d have been done by now.”
“Oh really.”
Her smile does things to him, heart and soul. “If I didn’t mind a whole lot of dirty soldiers eyeing your body, I’d keep going. But as it is… we need privacy for what I have planned for your payback, missy.”
Elizabeth’s eyes go wide. “Payback?”
“Ya sure, you betcha.” Though he’s entirely uncomfortable, he clamors out of the shower, grabbing a towel for him and one for Elizabeth. They hurriedly dry off and dress.
Jon carefully opens the door and glances both ways. The corridor is empty and he grasps Elizabeth’s hand, guiding her out of the locker room. He keeps her just a little behind him as they round the corner toward their quarters. She’s keeping her head bowed, he can feel it against his shoulder. Jon stops suddenly and Elizabeth bumps into his back. She glances up then turns her face toward his back to hide again. She’s trying to be as invisible as possible and all Jon wants to do is wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe from everything. His chest aches with his need to protect her. And the rest of his body simply wants her constantly.
That can’t be normal… but he can’t really bring himself to care either.
God, I’m so in love with her it hurts!
Sam and Jack are standing right in front of them, chatting as if this is an everyday occurance, as if they have no where else to be or no one else to make fun of at the moment… behaving as if Elizabeth and he aren’t even there. “You didn’t tell them about the lock?” Sam asks. “Jack… anybody could have walked in on them.”
“Yep… shame… but you know newlyweds. They’ll get over it.”
Sam grins, glancing slightly at Jon with a wink. “Took you a little while.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell them.”
“Didn’t cross my mind,” Jack shrugs. “Hey, at least I warned them about the closets.”
Jon feels heat rush up his face as he quickly drags his wife down the hall so they can hide in their room… and hopefully finish what they’d been so close to achieving. And much, much more. Oh, Elizabeth is going to pay for this little fiasco.
And she is going to love every moment of it.
Elizabeth is surely going to be the death of him someday. Probably from embarrassment, Jon laughs silently.
Angie stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, tugging at the corner of her eye where a new crease has emerged. Is that a wrinkle? Dark circles under her eyes are a norm, or a return to what was once the norm, but...
Damn, girl. You’re getting old!
Am not!
Are too. Can’t pretend forever. You lost eight good years to the dark forces. Whether you want to admit it or not, you can’t recapture what’s been stolen.
I am not old!
Older, any rate. You can’t really believe he thinks you’re still in your twenties, can you?
No, but…
There.
I’m just tired. That’s all. Had a rough few weeks, and they’re catching up.
Sure, keep telling yourself that.
She hasn’t been this exhausted in ages. Not since that first time she returned from PXT-705 just after finding Janus’ secret lab under the temple. She’d been so tired she couldn’t jump John’s bones until the next morning. And that was a hellava day they spent in each others arms.
One hellava day. She shivers remembering the closeness they shared. The teasing. The pleasure.
Afterward, well, Koyla came into the picture; Angie never thought she’d get to see John or anyone else ever again.
She leans in closer to the mirror. “Getting older isn’t a bad thing.” Though today she’s achy in places she didn’t know existed. Her tussle with John left her bruised and weakened, though the afterglow lasted a nice long time to counter any actual pain, Angie’s not sure she’s up for a lifetime of those kinds of exercises.
Didn’t Carson warn her about the lethal combo of her and John’s chemical attraction to each other? Sure, she’s stronger than the average woman her age given years of physical discipline, but her metabolism is erratic at best because of what the ancient lust-o-rama doohicky device set loose in her system, and she’s still only human and susceptible to damages.
And looking older with each passing moment… that’s not always of the good.
On a heavy sigh, Angie drags herself back to bed, wrapping her warm robe tight around her body. When she went to sleep yesterday, Laura had still been in her room. The sun had still been in the sky. They’d been chatting and then suddenly, she awoke and it was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon, today! A whole day she wasted away in bed, not in the fun way. And she still feels exhausted.
“Oh, crap,” she groans. “Of course you’re a vegetable, girl, you haven’t eaten anything in nearly twenty-four hours!” And practically devouring John from head to toe doesn’t count. The only calories involved in that feast were being burned not gained.
She rubs her hands over her face. “I need food. And lots of it.” Listlessly she gets up and reaches for a pair of sweatpants. She’s got one leg in when the door chimes. “Minute,” she calls only to be bombarded by the most familiar sensation a blink later. Angie drops the pants, jumps out of them and opens to door, practically leaping into John’s arms the next instant. “I see you got my message,” she says, talking about the code words she used to lock him in the gym.
He wraps her up in a hug to end all hugs. “Took me about twenty guesses… but yeah.”
It’s not just chemical between them. It can’t be. There’s no explanation for their ability to sense each other, the feelings that erupt when she hears his voice or smells his scent, the rush she feels when he holds her close.
“I didn’t want to push though. Wanted to give you some space.”
“Thank you.”
They breathe each other in. Feeling each other, loving, quiet long moments of simple contentment. Of just being together. Bent but not broken, she reminds herself.
And she will tell him. Once she figures out what went wrong, that is, she will tell him about Huskin. About her split-second, crazy-new-universe-making, mistake.
He’ll understand. He will!
With her hands cradling his face, she pulls back and studies his somber expression. “John? What’s wrong?” A little quirk of his brow stalls any thoughts of impending doom and Angie breathes easier. “John?”
“They’re trying to kill me,” he says in a little-boy-lost voice.
Angie tries not to grin. She really does. “Who, baby? Ronon? McKay?”
“That… that…damn that Cloneman!”
Angie bellows, the laughter nearly knocking both of them over. She caresses his cheek. “My poor, poor boy.” He’s so handsome. So unbelievably beautiful when distressed. But she can’t stop grinning because it’s so ridiculous, this kind of torture he’s going through. It shouldn’t be torture. For any other man, it probably wouldn’t be. “Are you getting the newlywed porn channel again?”
John carries her back into the room and the door shuts behind him. She slides down his body, feeling his discomfort against her stomach. He turns away, running his hands through his hair. “It’s just not right.” He’s shaking his head. “Seeing her like that. Feeling… feelings… not emotion… but such good…”
“John.” When he looks at her the guilt in his eyes makes her heart flutter. “Are you seeing it on purpose?”
He reaches for her, grasping her hands in his, warming her skin instantly and sending that flutter down lower… so low she’s surprised she can still stand. He makes her legs gooey. “No!”
She believes him. She always has when it comes to Elizabeth.
That’s not entirely true.
What? Yes, it is. Now shut up!
Angie pulls him flush against her; chest to chest, her softness instantly melding to his hardness. “Then don’t stress. If you can’t ignore it, then you’ll just have to find a way to deal. Maybe even enjoy it.”
“I can’t. It makes me…”
“Uncomfortable?” He nods. “Feel like a voyeur?” Another nod. “Horny?”
“Oh god, yes,” he drops his forehead to her shoulder and sighs heavily. “Wanna help out?”
Angie closes her eyes and nuzzles his neck, drinking in the scent of him. “Are you kidding? I can’t get enough of you, Johnny,” she whispers against his skin. And her legs aren’t the only thing turning gooey. He makes her melt all over.
John sits on the edge of the bed and tugs her to him. “Same here.” He reaches for the belt of her robe but her hands halt his progress. His eyes and brows raise in question.
“I’m hungry.”
He grins, his eyes darkening with lust. “Me too.”
“For food.”
“Oh.”
Angie feels horrible about stalling for time. “I just woke up. I haven’t eaten since before we met in the gym yesterday.”
John’s on his feet, hands gripping her shoulders. “You what! Angel, you can’t do that. You know you have to take care of yourself. You could have had one of those metab… meta-whatever meltdowns that… that… you can’t do that!”
“Not on purpose, I swear.”
“Get dressed.”
“What?”
John picks up the sweatpants off the floor and shoves them at her. “You heard me. Mess hall. Now, young lady.”
She takes the pants but steps closer to him, smiling slyly. “You think I’m young?”
“Angela.”
“Oh, all right.” She drops her robe, enjoying the rushed intake of breath from John when he sees her naked. She glances over her shoulder at him. “Your orders,” she says with a wicked grin.
“You better eat fast.”
“Have plans for later, do you?”
John licks his lips. “Let’s just say, I’ve been inspired by recent images.”
Angie opens the wardrobe and pulls out a bra and T-shirt. “Hmm. Wanna share?”
John quirks a brow. “Really?”
“Why should you be the only voyeur? Share the imagery.” Once dressed she slinks up beside him, “Tell me what it does to you… to see it… to feel it…” caressing her hand down his chest only to stop at the waistband of his pants. “Could be interesting. Who knows maybe we could give him a show. Make the evil twin uncomfortable.”
John growls as he hugs her close and covers her mouth with his. His tongue delves past her open lips, taking, teasing. When he releases her they’re both breathing hard. “Not a chance, beautiful. You’re all mine.”
“You can say that again.” She pulls his mouth back down to hers. As they make-out though, Angie can feel John swaying both of them toward the door, then it’s open and he breaks their kiss.
“Food first.”
“Dessert later,” Angie sighs with longing and they walk hand-in-hand to the transporter.
Yeah, older-schmolder… she’s got one hell of a hunky guy who thinks she’s the cat’s meow. Angie grins. What’s a few wrinkles anyway. They add character.
Ronon grunts when the sees them come into the mess hall with their fingers linked. His gut clenches. Angie is his to protect, even if that means protecting her from Sheppard. And even if she can bring herself to forgive him, Ronon can’t seem to let it go. The man betrayed his vows. Though they have yet to be bonded in ceremony, Sheppard asked Ronon for his blessing. He asked Jack’s approval. In the eyes of a Satedan, Sheppard and Angie are already bonded. They are mated and were mated when Sheppard took another woman to his bed.
No matter that he was stranded. No matter that he was away for so long from his perspective. Bonds are not to be broken so easily.
“He feels great regret,” Teyla says, placing her hand over Ronon’s fist. He didn’t even realize his grip around his fork has tightened. “John does not take what happened lightly, Ronon. But it is Angela who he must seek forgiveness from. No one else.”
“I trusted him.”
Teyla inclines her head slightly. “And it is up to you to decide if the trust you placed in him is truly beyond repair. We cannot judge unless we know the facts of the matter. And it really does not involve us anyway. We should not judge friends or their relationships. Friendship means more than that. If you cannot bring yourself to still call John your friend then remember he is still your commander… you must separate the two and respect his role in Atlantis nonetheless.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then respect Angela and her decision. She is wise beyond her years even if she does not recognize the fact. You and I have seen the depths of her affection for John. And his for her. She is not willing to give up on him. She’s fighting for their relationship. For their love. If you do not stand by her choice, it will cause a rift… you may well hurt your sister by holding on to your anger.”
With a muttered growl, Ronon digs into his food again. He watches the couple from the corner of his eye as they get in line for food. They’re chatting and smiling. Angie’s eyes alight with her feelings for Sheppard.
Ronon’s reminded of the time he first came to Atlantis and was still getting to know everyone. He witnessed Sheppard in line with Angie and how they were together. Ronon had recognized a kinship between the two, though even they didn’t know it existed. Or Sheppard hadn’t. Angie had already been infatuated with Sheppard for quite some time by then, but she never would have contemplated they’d be where they are today.
She was so different, so hard and distant. Was it only months ago that she was Jax and not Angie? That she was hiding herself away from everyone, simply going about life in the City as nothing more than a ghost. Time has moved so swiftly this past season. Ronon feels as if he’s been on Atlantis much longer than he really has. The City has become his home. Angie his family. And in the short time he has been here, he has seen her grow, change, become happy. And he can’t deny it has been mostly because of Sheppard.
He can’t take that away. He can’t see her hurt any more.
He is her protector. Maybe Teyla is right. Instead of protecting her from Sheppard, he’s going to have to protect her from his own feelings of anger and betrayal.
Several minutes later, they join Ronon and Teyla at the out door table smiling in greeting but Ronon senses Sheppard’s reluctance to be there. He also sees the darkness under Angie’s eyes. He locks his gaze on hers. “Are you okay?”
She grins. “Hungry.” Her tray is piled with enough food to rival Ronon’s appetite. Or even McKay’s.
“Okay if we join you?” Sheppard asks. There’s tension in the other man’s face. He’s worried, which is good.
“Of course,” Teyla says, indicating the empty chairs.
Ronon doesn’t want to think about what Angie’s been doing that would require her to need so much food. He glances at Sheppard, he too looks a little tired but the gleam in his eyes as he watches every move Angie makes is unmistakable. The protective nature is within the man. If Ronon is not mistaken, it was Sheppard who made sure Angie piled the food high on her tray, urging her to eat.
Ronon has no illusions about Sheppard’s love for Angie. It is in every move, every glance. Still… how could he have hurt her so deeply if he loves her so much? How could he have risked everything for a brief moment of pleasure?
Angie sits next to Ronon and Sheppard next to Teyla. The two of them prefer to sit across from each other during meals as if they need to be able to see each other fully at all times.
Angie leans into Ronon and rubs the side of her face against his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey,” the smile that tugs at his mouth is involuntary but inevitable. Since the moment they met, she’s been a force of nature in his life. “You look tired.”
“I am. Nothing a giant alien fish and some steak fries and a whole lot of fruit won’t cure.” She glances around. “McKay’s not here, right? Good.” Angie picks up the lemon from her tray and slices it in half then squeezes the juice all over the fish.
“That is a rather large piece of fish,” Teyla says. “Any good?”
“Mmm,” Angie takes a big bite. “Tastes like salmon.” Her bright smile rivals the beauty of the Lantean sun.
“Atlantic or Pacific,” Sheppard asks.
“Ohhh, always Pacific.”
“There is a difference?” Teyla wonders.
“Nothing better on Earth than wild Alaskan salmon,” Angie says. “Alaska is in the Pacific Ocean,” she explains. “There’s just something about it.”
“Not as fishy,” Sheppard suggests.
“That may be it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Atlantic salmon is fine and dandy, but gotta love Alaska’s main staple. Oh and Kodiak King Crab… can’t beat that with a stick.”
“And the Pegasus Galaxy version,” Ronon asks.
“Actually… I think this is better than either of them.” More lemon juice flows over her meal. “There’s not an ounce of pollution on I-zoola. And it tastes fantastic. Even the mess cooks can’t screw it up.”
Teyla hides a smile behind her hand. “That is not a very nice thing to say.”
“Serves ‘em right,” Angie shrugs. “How do you screw up chocolate pudding? I’ve never known anyone to mess with it, but they managed. Whole caseload down the tubes.”
“Was that the horrid smell that caused so much ranting around the City last week?” Teyla asks, looking between Angie and Sheppard. “I recall Laura… Lt. Cadman’s face turned a shade near her hair color when she spoke so vehemently of the incident.”
“Oh yes,” Sheppard says. “They’ll be getting quite a bit of ire from the female population over that fubar for a while to come.” He shakes his head. “Never come between women and chocolate. Big mistake.”
“Fubar?” Ronon raises his brows. Angie leans in and tells him what it means. “That first one is what I’m not supposed to say in the general public or around children.”
“Correct.”
“And yet you shout it from the towers in the middle of the night.”
“How do you know about that?”
He stares at her for a long moment. “I heard you.”
Angie cocks a brow and grins, not the least bit embarrassed. “Oh.” Then she starts eating again.
Sheppard’s gaze bounces over them both. He picks at his own food before raising the question. “Something I should know about?”
Ronon glowers; he was the cause for her outburst, after all. But Angie waves a hand. “Ancient history now.”
“Okay,” he doesn’t sound convinced.
Angie reaches for Sheppard’s hand and covers it with her own. She grins at him and his tension seems to melt away. Ronon swallows a groan and a quick glance at Teyla tells him he made the right choice.
“So,” Sheppard starts. “When did you two get back from the mainland?”
“A short while ago,” Teyla says, her features drawn tight with sadness. “I was visiting with Charin while Ronon took some of the children hiking to teach tracking skills.”
“How is Charin?” Angie asks.
“She is… well,” Teyla’s small smile doesn’t convey that as truth.
She hasn’t spoken to him about the older woman, but Ronon can see the strain that Charin’s failing health is having on Teyla. The woman practically raised her once her mother was taken in a culling when she was a child. Teyla had her father during most of those years, but Charin became family as well. And since the loss of her father, Charin has been the only family Teyla has among the Athosians.
It makes her recent distance a bit more understandable. It is very difficult being alone, even with ones own people. And Teyla hasn’t been around her people since she came to stay in Atlantis and turned over her responsibilities of leadership to Halling.
And then there’s the news he learned from overhearing talk between Teyla and Charin earlier today. He hadn’t been trying to listen; it was by accident as he was returning with the children. Charin mentioned someone named Kanaan… and that she feels Teyla is still mourning his loss and that of their child.
Ronon was struck by the information. His first instinct was to barge into the woman’s home and demand answers. But he wasn’t supposed to know. Obviously Teyla had not wanted to share such news of her past with him. It hurt… more than he expected. Early in their pairing, he told Teyla of his life on Sateda, of watching Melena die in the bombing at the hospital. He shared his pain as best he could, opened himself up to her in ways he hadn’t to anyone – even Angie – in over seven years.
But she could not do the same for him.
Perhaps Sheppard isn’t the only one he’s feeling betrayed by today.
“Ronon?” Angie whispers as she leans into him again. “You there?”
“What?”
“I asked how you’re lunch is.”
“Fine.”
“And your trip with the Athosian kids? Did you have a good time?”
“Fine.”
“Hmm.”
Ronon catches her gaze, seeing the questions in her eyes, though she makes a point of biting her bottom lip as if to keep from asking them. She glances between him and Teyla and he sees the spark of something in her eyes. Some kind of knowledge. She turns to the other woman.
“Teyla, Laura mentioned something the other day. How about we plan an outing. You, me, Laura and Sharon. We could have some fun. Maybe go on a picnic… or hey! I know. We could go to I-zoola. I could teach you how to skate… oh and the kids love snowball fights.” Angie’s excited by the ideas she’s throwing out. Her smile is wild and full of joy. “You know what…” She smiles at Sheppard. “I’d love to get Lorne out there again. The poor man really needs to redeem himself in battle.”
“Battle?” Sheppard repeats with a hint of a chuckle.
“We got our asses kicked by a bunch of kids, John. Not a pretty sight.”
“It does sound rather fun,” Teyla starts. “But we are needed here, on Atlantis.”
“Oh, c’mon, Teyla,” Sheppard says, “you need a day of rest from everything. Just some fun with the girls,” he nods. “It’d be good for all of you to get out of the City for a while. It’s only a two hour round trip. There’d be no problem calling you all back if the need arises.”
“I am not sure.”
“What if I make it an order?” Sheppard adds with a wink. “I order you to have a good time off-world.”
Teyla sighs but it seems Angie’s excitement over the idea is slowly seeping into her as well. “It does sound rather interesting. Just one day.”
“Great!” Angie claps. She looks at Sheppard. “You can check Cadman and Maddog’s schedules, right? Fix us up for a departure day, sometime this week or next?”
“Yep. No problem.”
Angie leans into Ronon, kisses his cheek and whispers, “I’ll get her to talk. Promise.” She pulls back and catches his gaze. They stare at each other for a long moment and Ronon gets the impression she’s trying to tell him something with her mind. But all he gets is the purest sense that she is looking out for him.
Protecting him this time.
“Turns out, McKay actually is pretty good at running things himself,” John says ironically. Angie gives him a humorous roll of the eyes and he chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on telling him that.” He pulls his shirt from his pants and strips it off even as he kicks his boots free as soon as the door shuts behind him.
“Good.” Angie follows his lead, peeling her T-shirt over her head.
“But it is nice that I didn’t have to dig myself into a hole of paperwork I wouldn’t be able to climb out of before Elizabeth returns.”
“That’s because I did most of it.”
“You?”
Angie laughs. “Of course, John. Do you really think McKay can sit still long enough to go through status reports and not criticize every word written, or call up the offending scientist or soldier to debate every single item to the point of getting death threats?”
John stops unbuckling his belt. “Hadn’t thought about that. But you have massage duties and other things…”
“Elizabeth made me her assistant, remember?” She playfully dances her fingers down his arm and takes over his belt duties. “And you keep forgetting that I’m multitaskable.”
“Is that even a word?”
She pops the button of his pants and dips her hand inside his waistband, gently caressing him. “Do you care?”
John sucks in a breath. “Not really, no.” He grasps her face and pulls her mouth to his. The kiss is hot and savage. His desire burns his body and she responds with her own heat. He wants to bury himself in her over and over, sate his constant cravings. No matter how often they are together, he can’t be satisfied. He can’t get enough of her.
Both her hands delve into his pants, inside his boxers, pushing the material over his hips and shoving both down. Then she’s using a foot to drag his pants down his legs. “Tell me what you see,” she whispers. “What you feel.”
He opens his eyes and stares at her. “You.”
Angie smiles slyly. “Voyeur you. How do they drive you crazy?” She kisses his neck. “Talk dirty to me, Johnny.”
John gulps some air. Her lips on his skin, her hands on his body, he can’t keep a single thought on track. “He takes her from behind,” he says in a rush.
Angie turns in his arms, brushing her rear against him. She’s still wearing the sweatpants and the cloth rasps over his erection making him tense. “Like this?”
“Up against the wall. Trapping her.”
Angie wraps an arm around his neck and pulls his lips down to meet her skin. “Mmm. How does it feel?”
“Hot. Sexy.”
“Naughty.” He licks her shoulder. “Makes you hard.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
He frees her from the bra and molds her breasts with both hands as he sinks his teeth into her neck. He sucks her skin, surely making his mark and she coos and whimpers. “He takes her hard. Fast. He’s rough with her. Using her.”
“She likes it.”
“Begs for more.”
“How does it feel?”
John closes his eyes and for the first time thinks about it. Really thinks about it. He rests his chin on her shoulder. “Not us. Nothing like us.”
Angie turns in his arms again, her gaze questioning. Once again, John cradles her face in his hands. He kisses her gently, softly with the utmost care. Angie sighs into him, lifting up on her toes, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I missed you so much,” he whispers against her lips, nipping lightly at the corners of her mouth.
“Me too,” she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. He’s seen this look before.
When she was going by the name of Jax, nothing could penetrate that wall of silence… except Ronon. He got to her in a way no one else could. She trusts in their love for each other, a familial bond that nothing can sever. But in the past, she always believed that romantic love was cursed. She loves Ronon, but she’s in-love with John. So whatever she’s holding back, she must be doing it to protect him.
Or their love? Is it possible she thinks John could leave her? Fall out of love with her for any reason? He pulls back and gazes into her eyes. “Not just for this.” His voice is hoarse and urgent. “You know that right? You know how much you mean to me. How special you are to me. We’re more than just this… together.”
Angie’s breath hitches. Her lips tremble as her eyes shine bright. “I know.”
“Then tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Whatever it is. Whatever happened on Huskin.”
Angie tries to pull away from him, tries to turn her head. “John.” But he won’t let her go.
“Angel,” he kisses her again, lightly. “I’m here for you now. I wasn’t when you needed me and I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You were trapped.”
“But I still feel it. It grates on me that you had to turn to someone else.” John sits on the bed and pulls her into his lap. “That… that Jonathan,” the name still doesn’t fit with his image of the other man – his own younger, more open less jaded self. “That he was there for you when I wasn’t.”
Angie slides off his lap. “I don’t want to go there right now.” She turns to face him, her eyes still shining but she’s holding back the tears. “Can’t we just get back to dessert? You got me all stuffed with food so now we can play.” She slinks up to him and runs her finger over his dog tags chain. “Don’t you want to play?”
John catches her hand and brings her fingers to his lips. “What I want is for you to trust me again.” She doesn’t say anything. “I know I have to earn it, Angel. I know it will take time.”
“It’s not that.” She straddles him, pressing him back into the bed until he’s lying beneath her. She rests one arm above his head. Her free hand strokes his tags and his chest. Her dark curly hair curtains them. “I do trust you, John,” she says softly. “I know you didn’t betray me… not really. Not here,” she presses her hand to his heart. “Not where it matters.” She takes a deep breath. “I… but… I’m… what happened there… with Kolya…”
His gut tightens at the name. Knowing she was under that monster’s control, being tortured. It makes his stomach twist and boil with the need to purge.
She lays her cheek over his heart. “…it’s a jumble at times,” she continues. “I was… I wasn’t myself, not really. I was acting but at the same time… I was so drugged up, I couldn’t think straight. It’s…I get these flashes of memory… images and,” she swallows hard, her voice cracks. “Pain.”
John rolls her to the side and looks down at her. A tear slips out of the corner of her eye as she stares up at the ceiling. “He hurt me… so bad...” She sniffs back tears. “If I think about it too much… if I let it in…”
John sweeps a free curly lock behind her ear. Another tear drips and he kisses it away, tasting the saltiness of her pain. “What happened that day you went back? Why did you have scratches on your neck? That red mark on your face.”
She shakes her head. “Please, Johnny.”
“I need to know, Angie. I can help you. I know I can.”
She sits up, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to her chest, shying away from him. “You won’t understand. I keep telling myself that you will… but you can’t. Because I can’t.”
John reaches for her but she pulls back, putting more distance between them. “What if I promise you I can take it? Whatever it is, I can handle it. We can handle it together.”
Her gaze flicks to his, tears dripping from her eyes. “Promise me?”
John crawls over, wraps his arms around her shoulders and hugs her close to his chest. His heart pounding out a furious tempo. What could she possibly have to tell him that has her so wracked with pain? What did that monster do to her?
After a moment, Angie sniffs again. Raising her head, she stares into his eyes. He can see the wall crumbling. The desperation she feels. It makes his heart ache. “I… I killed you.”
“What?”
“You… Teyla… Ronon.” Angie shakes her head. “When Kate put me under that day. I had a flash of memory. A split second thought… remembering almost killed me… probably would have been justice since it’s out there now… somewhere…”
“Angel… you’re not making any sense.”
Nodding slowly, she sits up, still clutching the pillow. “It all started after you and the others returned from being prisoners on the hive ship. Something snapped in my nutso brain… because of… Jonathan… his presence here, in our timeline.” She takes a deep breath. “McKay could explain it better, I’m sure… but the gist of it is…” She looks at him again. “I killed you… in the torture chamber. I chose Kolya over you, over Ronon…”
“No. You didn’t.”
“Not in this reality… universe whatever… but the choice was made. A split second in time… a nothing thought tossed out into the chasm by my subconscious…”
John finally gets it. It took him a moment to put the pieces together, but he does get it. McKay explained the whole multi-universe to him when they came across the other Elizabeth in the stasis pod. How every decision ever made creates a new reality. The choices don’t have to be spoken but if there is a choice, each one gets its own reality. It’s the fork in the road, the path not taken… it actually is taken, by another version of oneself. There’s no stopping it, no control over it happening. It’s just a way of life in the multi-verse.
And in one brief instance, Angie’s brain played with the idea of giving in to the pain, to the drugs and ending her suffering. She had to know she was dying at the time. She was sick with the infection from the bullet… in agony most likely. Perhaps she didn’t think her plan to rescue them would work, or she hadn’t come up with a plan yet. Maybe she thought it would be better for her to take them out instead of leaving them to Kolya and his men. Whatever the reason… the knowledge of that decision has been slowly eating away at her soul.
This beautiful woman who has known so much pain in her life can’t forgive herself for something she really didn’t even do. As she said, not in this reality. Once again something took control from her, and yet she blames herself. “Oh, Angel. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When?”
“What?”
“When was I supposed to tell you, John?” She rubs at her eyes. “It’s not like we were exactly on speaking terms following that day, you know.”
He bows his head. “I’m sorry.”
“The thought of you… with…” she obviously can’t bring herself to mention Teer. Not that he can blame her. “I had so many ‘what ifs’ going through my brain then. If you found out about what I’d done… you might want to go find that other woman–”
“No!”
She breathes a heavy sigh. “I know that now. But… I was so angry, so hurt… and to let you know that I was some weak-willed woman, hardly someone worth coming home to–”
John laughs, stunning her silent. “Weak-willed! You! Ohmygod! Angel. Never. Never would anyone describe you as weak-willed. Temperamental, yes, feisty, always–”
“Wacko–” she grins.
“Occasionally kooky.”
“You stole that from Elizabeth.”
He shrugs. “Maybe. My point being… no one in their right mind could ever think of you as weak! After all you’ve been through in your life… what you’ve had to deal with. Never gonna happen, honey. Especially not me.”
Angie’s grin is watered down with a stream of tears. “That’s the problem isn’t it?”
“What’s the problem?”
“No one in their right mind?” She laughs and he can see the shutters leaving her eyes. “I’ve never been the poster girl for sanity.”
John kisses her tears away. “I like that about you.” He rubs his nose against hers. “You keep me on my toes.”
She kisses him back, drinking from his lips as though dying of thirst. “You mean the world to me, Johnny. I’d never want to hurt you.”
“I know. And… the thought of hurting you kills me.”
She cups his cheek. “We’re better now. Right. Stronger.”
“Absolutely.”
“I just wish…”
He waits but she doesn’t continue. “What?” She shakes her head. “No, don’t do that. Tell me.”
“I wish I knew why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I thought it. I didn’t remember it until the hypnosis so it’s not like it was a full thought. But it was there, in the background, taking hold. Why? What could have been going through my mind to bring me to that point?”
“Oh, honey.” He has to swallow down his rage at Kolya, at fate or whatever put her in that dark place. “You may never know. Stop torturing yourself. There are so many ways that could have ended and none of them were good. We got out of there because of you.”
“Everyone tells me that… but…”
“You’ve spent too many years feeling guilty for events you had no control over. Choices that were made for you.” He kisses the top of her head. “How ‘bout you make a choice tonight.”
“What kind of choice?”
He pulls her head back to gaze into her chocolate eyes. “Let me love you. Give you some memories to hold on to when the pain tries to surface. Let me show you that what we have is worth everything to me.”
“What ever did you have in mind?”
“Well,” he pulls the pillow away from her arms and tosses it aside. “I got some ideas floating around in my mind. The thing is…”
“What?”
“Well… I’m naked…”
“Yeah…”
“And you’re only half way there.” With a deft move he’s got her on her back and he’s peeling her sweatpants down her legs. He tosses the pants over his shoulder and grins at her wolfishly, taking in her beauty. “My happy place.”
“You’re gonna make me blush, you keep staring at me like that, John Sheppard.”
John leans in and kisses each breast before laying a trail of kisses down her belly and lower still. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna do a whole lot more than just blush. Believe me.” Using his lips, tongue and even the scrape of his teeth over her most sensitive core he brings her to the brink of bliss then pushes her over again and again with the hurried thrust of his tongue then again with his fingers until she is sobbing and limp with the rush of pleasure.
John takes his time loving every inch of her, leaving her begging for him to come inside her. He waits, pushing his self control to new limits until he simply can’t take it any more. He drives into her, sinking deeply with one thrust, her hips rising to meet his as they connect on the most basic level. With eyes on eyes, they slowly rock together, belly to belly, chest to chest, not letting anything, even air come between the contact of their skin.
Steam carries from their heated, sweating bodies as they move in tandem, unhurried, kissing, touching. Her fingers play with the hair on his head, sending tingles down his spine. He caresses her breasts, suckling gently, squeezing, teasing her flesh as she teases his.
They are beyond amazing together.
“Johnny,” she moans breathlessly, pulling his head down and crushing his mouth to hers. Her hips slam upward and he lets go of his control, they collide in a frenzy of desire, and then her body is claiming his, milking him so hard he breaks the kiss and howls his release on a broken voice.
Panting, limp and sated, they hold each other. John levers himself off of her, letting her catch her breath. Tears slip from her eyes again, but he knows these are cleansing. Her heart is open fully to him as his is to her. They kiss and stroke each other tenderly. John has never been so completely enslaved by a woman.
He’s never known this kind of contentment.
What we have is forever, John thinks and he swears, looking into Angie’s eyes, he hears her voice in his head, agreeing with a whole-hearted: Yes!
As Elizabeth steps into the Gateroom at the SGC, she’s bombarded with memories of that first fateful trip through the Stargate. Excitement, energy and fear of an unknown destination swirled inside her for weeks before she came into this room. Then a strange sense of calm enveloped her as she made the first of many speeches to the masses.
Even though the people milling around the cement bunker are not waiting for the gate to dial, there is a sense of anticipation as there had been… not so long ago, she realizes. Not even two years has passed since they first went through on what many believed to be a one-way mission. Little over six months since they lost so many in the battle with the Wraith.
If she looks over at that corner, will she see the ghost of Peter: young, energetic, eager… smiling and nodding encouragement as she stepped up to the ramp? Or down in front, where Jonathan is standing, chatting animatedly with Cameron Mitchell, would she catch a glimpse of Lt. Ford and Col. Sumner, solid and wary of a woman in command of such a tremendous expedition?
Elizabeth shakes her head, tossing the maudlin thoughts aside. Today is nothing like that last time. It is like any other day.
Any other day in a world that has the super secret capability to travel between two galaxies in the blink of an eye… if they had a second ZPM, that is. In their case, twenty days on board a super secret space ship now orbiting the planet. Old hat for most of them by now, especially those like the SG teams that go to and from alien planets on a daily basis. A trip on the Daedalus would probably be anticlimactic for them.
Elizabeth attributes the excited energy in the room to the newbies joining the Daedalus for their first voyage to the Pegasus Galaxy. She recognizes a few faces from previous tours, but Stephen has a tendency to rotate troops on a regular basis so they can ‘cut their teeth’ in space travel. He has a select few that remain on the bridge with him for most of the journeys, but she’s never surprised to catch new faces every time the ship arrives at Atlantis.
This time the butterflies in her stomach have little to do with traveling through space. She’s simply excited to be going home.
Strange that Earth really doesn’t feel like home anymore. In the sated bliss after she and Jonathan make love, they often talk about the changes in them and the rest of their ‘family’ back on Atlantis. Jonathan swears the city does something to each and every person that comes in contact with it. He says Atlantis ‘talks’ to everyone, even those without the ATA gene. Elizabeth wonders at his fanciful notions of the city being even remotely sentient… then thinks how wonderful it would be to know if that was true. Though a practical, logical person, a part of her is enchanted by the possibility. They have so much exploring left to do, so much more to learn about the place they now call home.
Earth was never this exciting a place to live, which is probably why she has no problem leaving it. Her only regret is leaving her beloved mother and baby Sedge. One day, when the Ori and the Wraith are gone, perhaps the Powers That Be would make the Stargate Program public knowledge. The petty differences around the world would be all but gone. People would be able to travel to Atlantis; work, live, raise families there and it would be a bustling city like New York or Los Angeles, without the crime or pollution, of course.
Then again, maybe she wouldn’t want that to happen. At least not anytime soon. With change comes politics and with politics comes politicians and problems. Always problems… corruption, interference; never solutions with those people.
Again with the maudlin! Elizabeth gives her body a shake and sidles up to her husband. “Ready to go?”
“Anywhere with you,” he kisses her temple.
Cam makes a face. “You two are so cute I’m getting a toothache.”
“You’re just upset that you haven’t found that alien cat in the other timeline yet,” Jonathan grins and Cam shakes his head chuckling.
“Cat?” Elizabeth’s brows crease.
Jonathan waves it off. “It’s something Daniel said.”
“No,” Cam lifts a finger. “I believe that part was Teal’c.”
“Right.” Jonathan wraps an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and hugs her close. “Heck of a sense of humor on that guy.”
“Dry,” Cam adds.
“Arid.”
“Teal’c?” Elizabeth asks.
“You’d be surprised,” General Landry says, approaching from behind her. “He’s a stealth bomber with that humor of his. Col. Mitchell.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I believe SG-1 is in need of your assistance on the surface. Something about a new recruit joining the expedition.” There’s a twinkle in the General’s eyes that unnerves Elizabeth. And Cameron’s big grin and second crisp: “Yes, sir,” before bounding out of the Gateroom leaves her a little off-balance.
“New recruit, General?”
“Oh you know those scientists, Elizabeth. Always cooking up more stew than this galaxy can handle.” He grins widely. “Now that we have Atlantis, it’s a whole new kitchen to play in. Or playground to cook in… I’m mixing my metaphors.”
“Dr. McKay usually approves the scientist assignments…”
“And I’m sure that will cost me many seconds of sleep… oh wait…” His grin grows. “No it won’t.”
“Thank you again for all your help,” Elizabeth says.
“My pleasure, Dr. Sheppard,” he turns to Jonathan, “Or are you going with Mr. Weir?”
“As progressive as I am in many things,” Jonathan clears his throat, “I think we are sticking with the classics on this one.” He hugs Elizabeth close again. “Mr. and Dr. Sheppard should anyone see fit to offer wedding presents… towels?” He looks around with a hopeful grin. “Housewares?” A few chuckles gurgle around them. Jonathan shrugs. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”
“Just stack ‘em over there.” A familiar voice at the blast door pulls Elizabeth’s attention and she feels Jonathan turn with her. “Now don’t be all government employee about it… gently set ‘em down.”
“General,” Elizabeth smiles at Jack. Four young marines bring in sturdy, bright red, plastic totes and stack them in the ‘personal belongings’ area of the beam-up site. Each tote has a lock and is wrapped with silver Duct tape, the initials AP written in black ink stands out.
“Dr. Weir…I mean, Dr. Sheppard,” he glances at Jonathan. “And guest,” his lips twitch as if fighting a grin.
“General,” Jonathan nods. He told Elizabeth that he has a hard time calling Jack by his first name. As much as he’d like to deny it, the ingrained military protocol isn’t going to be easy for Jonathan to break free from. No matter what the SGC or IOA has to say on the topic, Jonathan’s still a soldier inside. And as they’ve discussed repeatedly over their honeymoon, he’s going to be using that knowledge and skill whether he wears the uniform or not.
Personally, she likes him in all black. Brings out his eyes.
Officially, he’s going to be Elizabeth’s bodyguard whenever she’s off-world, which isn’t much of the time, so while on Atlantis, she hopes to put him to good use as a sort of ambassador between the military and scientists in the city. It’ll take some of the workload off of Col. Sheppard and help her out by cutting her meetings by half, at least. She may have to ease Rodney’s ruffled feathers and reassure him that Jonathan does not out-rank him or Col. Sheppard when it comes to running the city, but they will have to understand that she will be taking his advice into consideration for all contingencies.
He’ll also be a jumper pilot whenever needed and continue to scout the city and activate devices requiring the gene. Having him as a backup for the chair isn’t a shortcoming either.
Col. Sheppard mentioned Jonathan having a team of his own, since civilians are on teams all the time, but Elizabeth wasn’t thrilled with the idea of him going off and putting himself in harms way… at least not yet. If he gets restless, maybe a trade run or something…or maybe she’ll just have to admit to being selfish and wanting him around, safe and sound, all the time. The thought of him getting stuck in a time-dilation field or captured and taken to a Hive ship like Col. Sheppard scares the crap out of her.
The other night – after their shower debacle – Jonathan made love to her so tenderly, so excruciatingly slowly, she was begging for him, promising to make him King if he’d just take her. Thankfully, in the afterglow, he told her he’d rather not have a throne. Too much responsibility… that made her laugh.
He seems more interested in searching the city. “I wanna prove my theory.”
“That Atlantis is alive?”
“Or close enough.” His fingers danced over her skin leaving a delicious tickle. “Like most women, I think she has secrets yet to be revealed.”
“I’m secret free.”
“Not completely…but I’m patient and pretty good with my hands for an interrogator.”
“You’re wonderful with your hands. And mouth. And tongue…”
It hadn’t taken long for him to start demonstrating her point all over again to her utter delight.
A clatter echoes off the walls snapping Elizabeth out of her reverie and her attention to the stack of red totes; idly she wonders if the heat the memory put in her cheeks is flaming the same color. Jack scowls at the Sergeant who made the noise with the fifth and final one. “We really need to work on your definition of gentle, Siler.”
The older man quirks brow. “Sorry, sir. Slipped.”
Jack waves him off. He turns to Elizabeth. “Please tell Angie that Sue from Best Beauty is going on vacation because of that order.”
“What is all that?”
“The first two are full of acetone and nail polish…in every color imaginable. Even green. Did you know they had green?”
“Goes great with the camo’s, sir,” Jonathan says, smiling. Jack grunts.
“Hard as Nails?” Elizabeth asks.
His brows shoot up. “How’d you know?”
“Aside from Hershey bars,” Elizabeth adds, “it’s all she knows how to trade with. Speaking of…”
“Yeah, yeah, usual cases of those too. Threw in some Cookie’s-n-Cream ones too. Variety is the spice of life and all.”
“What’s in the others?”
“A rock polisher, strange as it may seem. Plus a year’s supply of all that goes with it and a load of rechargeable batteries for that as well. And batteries…not exactly lightweight, you know? And pricey!”
Landry looks pointedly at Jack. “The SGC isn’t…”
“Her personal funds, General. Trust me. I know how to invest.”
“Good. The IOA would have my ass if they thought I was playing favorites out there.”
“Oh puuushaaa, General,” Jack says. “The IOA will find something to bitch about so tell ‘em I said a howdyado wontcha-just-go-bite-me.”
“You know, Jack, I might have to do that one of these days,” Landry chuckles as he heads up to the control room.
Jack pulls out a dark blue velvet box and hands it to Elizabeth. He waves a finger at Jonathan. “You there…close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I said so.” Elizabeth grins at Jack’s parental attitude especially when Jonathan does as he’s told. Jack then motions for Elizabeth to open the case. “Wow,” she gasps, “these are gorgeous!” Gently running a finger over the lustrous, silver, diamond cut wedding bands, she tilts the box, letting the lights hit them so they sparkle. The center of each ring is etched with a Celtic design she’s seen before and what look like… wings wrapping around the ring.
“What?” Jonathan hasn’t opened his eyes.
“Cover your ears,” Jack commands.
“Oh, c’mon.”
“Can you guarantee Sheppard won’t find out something?”
“No.”
“Cover your ears.”
Jonathan complies. Elizabeth’s beside herself with amusement one moment and awe for the rings the next. She pulls the man’s ring out of its nesting feeling its weight. “They’re heavy. Not silver?”
“Titanium.”
Elizabeth blows a breathy whistle. Turning the man’s ring she reads the inscription: Promise. Inside the woman’s band is: Always. “What’s this?” She points to the etching on the inside middle of the bands. She looks at Jack. “327?”
“Pretty sure it was her father’s badge number.”
“These were her parent’s rings?”
“No. Those were confiscated even before the first trial. Lost in a myriad of red-tape and bad evidence management. She had their crosses.” Off of Elizabeth’s look, he adds: “The firefighter’s Maltese. Angie’s mother had them made special for their third anniversary with the number in the center. Must have cost a small fortune, but as I understand it, Angie’s mom was no slouch with the ebony and ivory.”
Now Elizabeth recognizes the design. The Fireman’s Cross. Only that usually has flames behind it not wings. And then it dawns on her exactly what Jack has done. He’s meshed the two symbols that are important to the two individuals: fireman’s cross and pilot’s wings. Angie and John.
Oh, how perfect. Swallowing her tears, Elizabeth distracts herself by feeling the heft again. “Titanium, huh?”
“Most heat resistant of the precious metals.”
She puts the rings back into their slots. “Perfect for day to day life of a firefighter.”
“Or someone living in the Pegasus Galaxy. Unfortunately, not as resilient against point blank gunshots.” Elizabeth raises her brows and Jack adds sadly: “Both crosses were damaged during the bank robbery.”
“Angie didn’t mention it.”
“It’s possible she didn’t know. Her handler set up about ten safety deposit boxes around the country for quick access. LA’s was the only one with more than money and a new ID.” Jack smirks, “He broke the rules… no personal items allowed.”
“A man in love,” she smiles. “He must have told her about it before he was killed.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “She cleaned out most of the other boxes after she saved Charlie and left protection. Feds probably won’t even notice for years, if ever,” he grins.
“Jack!”
“What? She earned it and then some. It was less than seven grand. And it took them forever to release her trust fund to me, so…”
“Anyway,” Jack shoves his hands into his pockets and changes the subject. “Ronon may have mentioned the need for some jewelry in a missive I received a while back. Along with ring sizes and the like. Now, how did he find out about that do you think?”
“Ronon’s very astute. And I wouldn’t put it past Lt. Cadman to put a notion into Teyla’s ear about Earth customs every now and again. Teyla would eagerly pass it on. Did he give you the inscriptions?”
“No, Sheppard, actually.”
“John?”
“What?” Jonathan yells. Elizabeth waves him off with a grin. He closes his eyes again, hands still covering his ears.
“When he told me about getting Angie back from…” Jack grits his teeth, “Kolya.” He shakes off the rage. “Something about the way he said he’d always be there for her. Kind of stuck.”
“Another man in love.”
“Like I said, he damn well better be. Smelting titanium does not come cheap.” Rocking on his heels, he says: “I added the number. Kind of like her father’s looking out for her.”
Elizabeth beams at Jack. “He sure is.”
A blush rises in Jack’s cheeks but he shrugs it off. For a moment, he looks like a little boy. “Think she’ll like them?”
“You know she’ll love them.”
Jack nods. “True.”
“Love what?!” Jonathan hollers, his eyes still closed, ears covered.
Elizabeth closes the case and stuffs it into her carry-all slung over her shoulder. She wraps her arm around Jonathan’s waist and gives him a squeeze. “You can look now.”
“General?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“What’s the big mystery?”
Elizabeth smiles at him. “You’ll see… when John does, I imagine.”
“That’s just too weird,” Jacks says with a head shake.
“It really is,” Elizabeth and Jonathan agree at the same time.
“General,” Walter Herriman says over the speaker. “The Daedalus is ready to beam up the crew.”
“One sec.” Jack motions for Elizabeth and Jonathan to step out of the target zone. “Go ahead. Let them know that the Sheppard’s are not ready to go yet.”
“We aren’t?” Elizabeth asks as a white light engulfs the room, taking away all those extra bodies filled with wonder and a bit of apprehension.
“Not just yet,” Jack says. He has a mysterious gleam in his eyes just like Landry did earlier. He glances at his watch. “Any minute now.”
Jack smiles at Elizabeth and Jonathan. He rocks on his heels then glances up at the control room where Walter raises his hands in a shrug of “I don’t know anything”.
Jack blows out a breath. “Some great weather we’ve been having here on Earth, huh?”
Jonathan chuckles.
“Make a hole!” Cam hollers in the corridor, his voice easily carrying into the Gateroom. There’s a clanging of metal as he muscles his way through the blast doors, banging them as he awkwardly tries to get a large metal cage through.
“As I stated before, ColonelMitchell,” Teal’c says coming up behind Cam, “would it not have been more beneficial for me to carry it and you to bring in the bags.”
Cam makes it through the doors, clanging again. “Yeah you did. But, you see here, big guy… you’ve got yourself two rather large bags, one over each shoulder, whereas I would only have managed one at a time.”
Teal’c nods. “Indeed.”
Cam releases the cage in the ‘personal items’ area and stands with his hands on his hips. His bright grin lands on Elizabeth.
“What’s this?”
“Oh,” he nudges the cage with his boot tip. “Nothin’. Just the lodgings for your newest expedition member.” Teal’c sets the bags of food next to the cage.
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth says.
“Carter. Jackson!”
From out in the corridor, Samantha and Daniel stride in, Sam gently tugging on a leash.
“Meet Airman Basic Sedge Weir,” Daniel says.
Elizabeth chokes back a sob of joy as she reaches for her dog. “Baby girl!” Sedge recognizes her immediately and is pulling on the leash to get away from Sam and to Elizabeth. Ever the good girl, Sedge doesn’t jump up, but bellies down to the floor, her tail thumping the same frantic beat of Elizabeth’s heart, her tongue striking out and licking any part of Elizabeth she can reach. She whines happily.
Elizabeth’s doing her best not to burst into tears as she hugs and pets her beloved dog. She glances at Jonathan with raised brows and a slight whimper.
“I believe my wife is wondering how this is possible,” Jonathan asks, his grin slightly amused at her state.
Elizabeth nods, still hugging Sedge.
“Well…” Sam hands the leash over to Elizabeth. “Seems General O’Neill knows this guy who lives in this big white house in DC who just happens to owe him a favor–”
“Or two,” Jack adds.”
“And,” Sam continues in her cheery way. “Animals equal science…so…”
“Write some reports about how morale goes up because of the dog and Woolsey and the IOA can kiss my ass,” Jack grins wickedly.
“Not bite you?” Jonathan quips. At Jacks narrowed gaze, he adds: “Sir?”
“Ohhh.” Daniel drops the bag from his shoulder. “Thought you might need some extra stuff, what with living in a city and all. We’ve got bowls, squeak toys, bones… pads and scooper baggies.”
“You guys are too much,” Elizabeth gushes. “Thank you!”
“Now don’t go getting all emotional on us, Dr. Sheppard,” Jack wags a finger. “This is a scientific expedition. I expect this to be taken… aw hell…glad we could help.”
Elizabeth’s up and hugging everyone. Jack and Teal’c are not huggers by nature, but to hell with it, they’re getting one too. Sam, Daniel and Cameron all accept her thanks with big hugs of their own.
Elizabeth wipes tears from the corners of her eyes. Jonathan’s on his knees smooching up the pup and she has to stifle a giggle. “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with morale, sir.”
“Well… unless Caldwell doesn’t like dogs,” Jonathan says. “Does he know?”
Jack scruches his face. “Apparently the man’s allergic. Why do you think he didn’t want to be down here for the farewell scene. But he didn’t have an issue with you two keeping her in your quarters as long as you clean up after her.”
Jonathan lets out a sigh. “Gonna be a tight fit.”
Elizabeth smacks him on the arm lightly. “You go before the puppy, hubby.”
“I knew it,” Jonathan says wryly. “Even something that comes with a pooper scooper gets more respect than me.”
Sam gives him a quick hug. “Just be glad it’s not diapers…yet.”
A terrified expression crosses Jonathan’s face before he schools it and Elizabeth laughs. “Stop trying to get me pregnant. I’m a newlywed.”
“Ohohoh, did I hear the “p” word?” Jack says looking around.
“’P’ for practice, sir,” Sam says with a grin and a wink.
“Take care, man,” Cam says grabbing Jonathan’s hand and pulling him in for a bear hug. After only a few days of knowing each other, it’s like they’re brothers already. Elizabeth’s curious to see this bond when such a tenuous one is between Jonathan and Col. Sheppard.
Jonathan hugs Daniel too. “You have to get out to Atlantis soon,” He looks at both Cam and Daniel. “Both of you.”
“That’s the plan,” Daniel says, looking pointedly at Jack who makes a point of looking at anything other than Daniel. Cam and Samantha laugh as Daniel rolls his eyes.
“Teal’c, buddy!” Jonathan grasps the big man’s hand and shakes it once. “Good to know you. And thanks for the Kelno… um…”
“Kelnorim.”
“What’s this?” Elizabeth asks as she leads Sedge to the dog cage.
“A form of meditation. I have instructed JonathanSheppard in the ways of Kelnorim in the hope that it will sever the mental connection between him and ColonelSheppard.”
Elizabeth shrugs, though she’s far from casual on the topic, “Whatever works.”
Jonathan gives her a double take, not buying her breezy attitude for a moment.
After more goodbyes, Jack gives the order and a white light engulfs them, whisking Elizabeth and her little family to the Daedulas and from there… home.
John stretches and groans as the edges of sleep finally pull away and he opens his eyes to so much light it sears his brain and he shuts them again. With another groan, he rolls over to drape his arm across a delightful expanse of soft skin, only to find himself alone in bed. Rising up on his elbows, he looks around the room. “Angie?”
No answer.
Grabbing his watch from the nightstand, he’s surprised by the time: 10:22. He hasn’t slept in so late since he was in high school. Damn, what happened to the alarm? Looking up, he sees a note taped to the clock face.
Sleepyhead, don’t stress. Rest is good for you. McKay and I still
need to find the newlyweds a beautiful place, so the search continues.
John flops back onto the bed holding the note. He flips the paper over.
ps: Do not be blue… anywhere, I’ll see you at noon.
A.
He grins as he scrubs a hand over his scruffy face, remembering their night of lovemaking. They’ve always been passionate, a sense of urgency coming from both of them that borders on insanity, really. But Angie’s emotional revelation last night coupled with that overwhelming passion pushed them into a realm of intensity he’d never experienced before. They were so close, so complete as they moved together, as if merging their bodies also merged their souls. When Angie cried out, John was right there with her, feeling her ecstasy fueling his.
She reached for him again in the middle of the night, and as always, John was more than up for the job. She excites him like no woman has before. She made love to him like he had her earlier. Touching and kissing, molding herself against him in the most erotic way, making him feel like Heaven itself would pale in comparison to their room. Their bed. When she urged him onto his back then straddled his hips to slowly guide them together, John thought he just might lose his mind from the pleasure.
He shakes off the memory but it’s too late. With a grunt, he’s out of bed and heading for the bathroom. As much as he’d like to radio his fiancé and demand she race home for a morning wake up call—that he’s pretty sure she’d answer—he knows better than to give in to temptation. He may be naturally lazy as he told Ronon a while back… but a hedonistic lifestyle just isn’t in the cards out here.
Even as the fantasy plays out in his mind, John’s reaching for the shower and turning on the cold water. After all, he still has work to do. A city to run.
Promises of his own to keep.
John steps into Elizabeth’s office but before he can sit down, Rodney’s in his ear. “Sheppard!”
“McKay?” He sits down and leans back in the chair, sipping his coffee.
“You need to get to S15 level 3 immediately.”
“Good morning to you too, Rodney.”
“Yes yes. Late as it is. You do realize I’ve been up since four this morning, so really, this is about lunch time for me and well… anyone else who doesn’t lounge around in bed all day long.”
“It’s not even eleven yet. I thought you were with Angie. Scouting apartments.”
“Correct. That’s why you have to get over here.”
“I don’t need to see it.”
“Not the living quarters, Colonel. You’re fiancé. She’s… well, how do I put this politely… oh screw politely, she’s acting stranger than usual, which is saying a lot.”
John’s on his feet. “Is she okay? Call Carson.”
“No. I mean, yes, I think she’s okay. I mean, she’s… I don’t think Carson’s the answer here. Maybe Kate but… I’d rather not make a big deal out of it, if it turns out to be, her just being, well… normal… for her, I mean.”
“So she’s not injured.”
“No… just get over here. McKay out.”
Angie folds her arms under her breasts and leans her butt against the console, crossing her feet at the ankles. How he’s supposed to concentrate with her getting in his way, striking poses all the time and peppering him with questions is beyond Rodney’s understanding.
It was her idea for these little jaunts into the city searching for the ever-undefined perfect little pad for Elizabeth and Jonathan. Perfect is relative, dammit. And they’ve come across many beautiful apartments. But Angie got a bug up her backside this morning. Something about having a weird dream and even weirder feeling that today was the day they’d find the ‘right’ place.
It was only pure luck that they found this previously undiscovered lab just waiting for Rodney’s attention.
Unfortunately, unlike half the population on Atlantis, Angie has little to no enthusiasm for scientific discoveries—which is not his fault in the least—and seems to have a one track mind…bent on distracting him right now.
“So you like her.”
Rodney punches a few buttons and the display screen flashes, coming on-line. “I didn’t say that.”
Angie doesn’t give the screen even a glance. She leans into him and nudges his arm with her elbow. “You didn’t have to, McKay. It’s written all over your face at the mere mention of her name.”
Rodney sighs. “If anything is written on my face, it is most likely ‘Do not disturb’.” He motions for her to move. “Now…”
Angie rolls her eyes as she turns and steps away from the console. “You sure do get grouchy around new toys.”
“Once again, Atlantis is not filled with toys! We’ve had this discussion. You and Sheppard may find the smooth floors of the corridors acceptable skateboarding lanes-”
“That’s purely for exercise.”
“Fine. That’s your kind of exercise. This is mine.”
“We’re supposed to be looking at living quarters, Rodney. Not finding new ways to destroy the universe.”
God, she makes his head ache. “I’m not… this is… we won’t know what this room was used for until I get a chance to read the logs.”
Angie glances at her watch. “I’m meeting John in 90 minutes exactly.”
“You don’t need me to go on this tour with you.”
Angie shakes her head. “But I’m not good at the note taking stuff like you.”
“So what, now I’m your secretary?”
“No,” she huffs with a slight giggle. “Of course not. It’s just… your so good at all the descriptive-”
Rodney waves his hand in her face. “No no no. You’re brain is basically a camera on auto-snap.”
“Fine.” She groans. “I… well… I like your company, okay?”
Rodney’s taken aback. He stares at her. “Really?”
“Well…” she shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Ahh…okay… not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, though I’m not a sentimental person by any means, but I have to wonder… why?”
Angie takes a deep breath and lets out an exaggerated sigh. She rests her hands on the edge of the console. “I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” A new crystal starts blinking the moment Angie touches the board. “Interesting.”
“Not really. Confusing is more like it. I guess it’s because I know you’re not affected by the pheromone thing and you don’t care that I’m-”
“What? Oh, not you. This,” he points at the crystal. Angie jerks her hands back and the light goes out.
“Oh no you don’t. Touch it.”
“Like hell. We are going apartment shopping.” She stomps toward the door. “You can play in here later.”
“This could be important.”
She’s already out of the room and down the corridor by the time he catches up. “It’s always important to you, McKay. What do you think, you’re just gonna stumble onto a clone-making lab or a time-travel lab out of the blue. Or maybe a ZPM-making lab. Now that would be quite cool, but still, not gonna happen just by chance, you know. The Ancients must have had some rhyme or reason to where they put their labs in conjunction with the rest of the city. Anything important like that would most likely be in the main tower. Which you’ve already gone through with painstaking process.”
“Janus’s lab was off-world.”
“Because he was doing secret stuff that the others didn’t like. Of course he hid it. So, no time-travel lab, too bad… or… not, there’s the whole ‘grandfather’ debate on that one.” She takes a breath and slows down. She looks around a moment then takes a turn down a different corridor. Her brows furrow as though she’s trying to concentrate on something. “So… Sharon...”
“Oh not that again. You’re like a dog with a bone.”
She slides him a look. “Dish, McKay. She’s hot.”
“Yes.”
“Wicked funny.”
“Quite.”
“And, for some strange reason, totally into you.” Angie stops walking and looks up and down the corridor. With a shake of her head, she grins at Rodney. “So. What’s the what?”
“We have an understanding. No strings.”
“But you like her. Otherwise I wouldn’t have seen the two of you with your heads together in the mess the other day.” She smiles. “You were talking with her.”
“So?”
“You don’t talk with people, McKay. You talk to or at them. Big difference. You were listening to Sharon.”
“You, once again, are letting that imagination of yours run rampant on the rest of society. Keep your musings to yourself.” He turns to go down the corridor.
“Rodney.”
“What?”
Her head twitches to the side and her right brow arches. “Wrong way.” Then she turns away from him.
Rodney catches up to her. “Where are you going?”
“Don’t know.”
He checks his hand-held. “Well, there’s a transporter further up.”
“Sure.”
After another turn they head down the corridor that holds the transporter, but Angie stops in front of a door. She licks her lips and stares at the door. After a moment she shakes herself and lets out a breath.
“How did you know this room was here?”
“Didn’t.”
“All right. May I say that you are behaving stranger than usual?”
Her brows shoot up, “Ya think?”
“Just a bit.”
Angie chews on her bottom lip. “Hmm.” She motions to the door.
Rodney exhales and waves a hand over the control crystal… to no effect. He does it again. There’s not even the usual beep-beep. Grabbing Angie’s hand as he once did back on PXT-705, he brushes it over the crystals. Still nothing.
“Hmm.” Pulling up his handheld computer, McKay runs a scan on the panel. “Strange. There’s power. No short.” He runs his hand over the door. “Not sealed.” He knocks on the door.
“I doubt anyone’s home, McKay.”
“You’re the one who brought us here.” He narrows his eyes at her then shakes his head. “It’s probably just a storage closet. It’s surprising how many of those we’ve come across. What did the Ancients need with so many closets? It’s not like they had a lot of furniture-”
“Maybe they just liked closets. Some people do… for various reasons,” she smirks, adding a wink.
“Will you stop. I’m not having this conversation with you.”
With all innocence she adds, “I have no idea where your mind just went, doctor, but I was simply making a statement. If you have an affinity for closets that might make for good storytelling-”
“You are relentless.”
She smiles full on. “Thank you. I am the one who got you two together so…you owe me.”
“How do you figure?”
“I got you laid… several times it seems.”
“I did all the heavy lifting. You weren’t even there.”
“Thank God for that ginormous favor!” She shivers and makes a repulsed face.
“Oh, ha ha.”
“C’mon, Rodney. Sharon’s been so quiet it’s killing me. She’s usually so mouthy… Ah ha!”
“What!”
Angie looks around. “We need a mirror.”
“What. Why?”
“Because you are beet red, Dr. McKay, and it’s a sight to behold,” she giggles.
With a grunt Rodney struts from the ridiculously immobile door and heads for the transporter. “I’m hungry, that’s all. Time for lunch.”
Angie looks at her watch. “It’s 10:40 in the morning.”
“So?”
“So. John probably isn’t even up yet.”
“Sheppard’s always up early.” Angie’s devious grin makes him groan. “What did you do?”
Her smile blossoms. “Nothing he didn’t like, I can guarantee that.” She smacks Rodney on the shoulder. “Besides, he needed a good nights sleep after all the crap that went on. So I turned off the alarm clock.”
“He does have a job to do, you do realize.”
“Oh, please. You’re the first to say you already have Elizabeth caught up two months in advance and with only Lorne’s team scouting off-world today, he’ll probably just sit in Beth’s chair and play solitaire on the computer. Let the man sleep a little.”
“Fine. Let’s try the next level down.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Oh, I don’t know. This floor really has the best view of the city.”
“And yet?”
“I know… I know. It’s just so hard finding the right look. You know? Beth has been so good to me; I want her home to be special.”
“You’ve got a list of five options. All of which are exceedingly large and bright and airy, have quick access to a transporter and no neighbors.”
Angie snaps her fingers. “That’s the kicker. Newlyweds need to be able to make noise.”
“Ahh, I didn’t need to hear that,” Rodney groans, again heading for the transporter.
Angie laughs. “You are so full of it, McKay. I know you and Sharon have been racking up the points on the audio lever.”
“You know nothing of the kind.” He taps the transporter panel and the doors open. Rodney motions for Angie to go in before him.
Angie steps inside then turns suddenly, looking down the corridor. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Her eyes narrow and she steps off the transporter. She glances right then left then down straight ahead. “Someone’s up here.”
Rodney motions to his computer. “No. It’s just us.” He shows her the motion detector. “See.”
Angie shakes her head then jerks toward the hallway they just left. “There.” She points. “Someone’s talking down there.” And then she’s off. With a sigh, Rodney follows her. She stops in front of the door Rodney tried to open. She looks at Rodney and whispers, “Someone is in there.”
“What?” Rodney steps up with the life signs detector and aims it at the door. He slouches after a second. “There’s nobody in there.” With another sigh, he motions to the transporter again. “Can we go? I’m not good if I don’t eat-”
Angie presses a hand to the door then pulls it back. “What?”
Rodney looks at her. “What?”
She glances at him. “You didn’t hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Um…McKay. We have to get in there.”
“No. It’s a supply closet… and you’re… you’re messing with me aren’t you! This is another one of your weird games to try and get me to divulge information. I already told you, I’m not having that conversation with you or anyone else. Whatever is going on with Sharon and me, well that’s between us.”
“Ah ha!”
“What ah ha?”
“So there is an ‘us’. I mean, not an us-us, but a you and her ‘us’, as in… you’re together.”
“You already knew that.”
“No. I knew you’d had sex. Not that you were an item.”
“Not an item. There’s no itemizing here.”
“Uh huh.” She nods, grinning. The grin fades a moment later and she faces the door again. “Sorry? I didn’t get that?”
“I didn’t say anything.” Angie nudges Rodney aside, reaching for the control panel. “Mistress of rudeness, I already tried-” Angie waves her hand over the crystals and the door opens with the usual whoosh followed by a rather unusual burst of air right into Angie’s and his faces. It’s cool but musty smelling, “that,” Rodney’s eyes widen at the sight before him.
The front room is cavernous, at least 20 foot high ceilings. Enormous stained glass windows line the far wall, overlooking the city and the ocean below. Rainbow colors wash the furnishings and floor as the late morning sun still moves higher in the sky.
“So…not a closet,” Rodney says.
Angie gulps in a breath and lets it out in a rush. “Beyond gorgeous! Thank you.”
“Well… I didn’t…”
She turns to him. “What?”
“Oh…” he sneers. “You’re doing it again, huh. I told you it wasn’t going to work.”
“What are you babbling about?” Angie shakes her head at him then turns back and steps into the living room. “This is perfect.”
Rodney follows her in, taking a quick look around. “A little sparse for my tastes.” There are the standards: a sofa and two chairs a small table, a couple of end tables probably for knickknacks since the lights are hidden in the walls and ceiling just like all the other rooms in Atlantis. “I’m sure Elizabeth-”
“Shhh,” Angie hisses. “Sorry, say again?” Her eyes have a wild faraway glaze to them and her skin is overly pink and shiny, like she’s just spent the last hour dancing.
“Uh…Angela…”
“No…sorry…can’t make…?”
“Oh crap.” He taps his headset. “Sheppard!”
John tore a hot trail through the city to the nearest transporter and now skids to a stop at McKay’s side out in the corridor. Eyes wide, McKay motions to the open door. “She’s… I thought she was fooling with me…”
In the enormous front room, Angie’s running her hands over the walls while seemingly having a conversation with herself.
“Why?” She looks around the room. “For what?” Then her hands are on the walls again. “Crappy reception.”
“Umm… honey?” John takes a step into the room and his muscles tense and spasm as the feeling of pins and needles shoots through his arms and legs leaving his hands and feet tingling in the aftermath. “Oh crap.”
“Exactly what I said,” McKay’s right behind him.
“Did you feel that too?”
“Feel what?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”
Angie spins and stares at John. A second passes then her bright, beguiling smile emerges. “Johnny! Isn’t it amazing?” In an instant she crosses the room and leaps into his arms, her legs wrap around his waist, her arms around his neck and her lips on attack.
John loses himself in the kiss for a moment. Oh hell, several moments. It’s only when McKay clears his throat repeatedly that they finally separate at the same time and turn to look at the disgruntled scientist.
Angie slowly releases her hold on John and slides down his body, her smile more embarrassed than beguiling now. “Sorry, Rodney.” She shrugs. “Can’t help it if I get carried away when he’s around,” she nudges John’s stomach and he gives her a little goose on the rear end. She jumps slightly, leaning into him. She takes his hand and leads him further into the room. “How do you like our new digs?”
“What about Elizabeth and Jonathan?”
“There are more apartments… one facing the East Pier that Beth will like.” She grins. “This is definitely for us.”
“Okaaaay.” John slowly turns in place, taking in the beautiful front room and knows instinctively that the bedroom is to the left with its own bath and the kitchen is through the door to the right. He also knows the balcony overlooks the… “Hydroponics lab?”
“What?” McKay’s suddenly next to him.
John looks at Angie. She’s smiling again. “S11 L5,” he says to McKay. “There’s a hydroponics lab.”
“Oh,” McKay sighs. “Is that all?”
Angie grins at McKay. “And the lab we left earlier is one of Janus’s.”
“Really? We have to get back there right now.”
“Sorry, McKay,” Angie presses her body into John’s, wrapping her arms around his waist. “We’ve got some… uh… christening to do here.”
“Spare me,” McKay groans. “Put your libido’s on ice for just a while, please. And tell me what the hell is going on? How did you get that door to open? Who were you talking to? Are you insane again? Is your head going to spin around and are you planning on spewing any split-pea soup, because I’d really rather not be in the vicinity of any of that happening.”
“Those are some very interesting and good questions there, McKay,” Angie nods. “And I will get right on giving you some answers… as soon as I know any.” After a moment, “This is truly freaky.” She doesn’t look or sound scared, though. John’s absolutely sure she’s giddy with excitement.
“Did you get pins and needles too?” he asks.
“Pins and… no… why…?” her palm goes to his cheek. “Did they hurt you? Tell me. I’ll kick their celestial asses.” Angie faces the room again. “Don’t be messin’ with my man. I’ve had plenty of that around this galaxy already.”
“They have asses?” McKay asks, looking around with some trepidation.
“Who are ‘they’, honey?”
Angie turns back to John. Her smile wavers and she bites her bottom lip, raising her brows. “I’m not…exactly sure. It’s kind of a bad connection.”
McKay waves a hand around. “You were uh…on… Ancient…radio?”
Angie shrugs. “Suppose.”
“This is just…Why you?”
“I asked the same question.” She makes a face to John, “Not exactly forthcoming with the answers, though.”
“Then it’s gotta be the Ancients,” John says and McKay nods in agreement.
“What’d they want?” McKay asks. “They have to want something. They have that whole non-interference crap, unless it’s to get something… or someone-” he looks pointed at John. “-for themselves.”
Angie starts to say something then looks around again, brows furrowing. “I’m not really sure… but… Okay, this is going to sound really weird-”
“I doubt that,” McKay quips.
She looks at John. “I think it has something to do with you and clonema…Jonathan.”
He sighs. “Man… I cannot get away from that guy.”
“No no. It’s a good thing,” Angie says. “A way to block him from you and vice versa.”
McKay snaps his fingers several times. “Magnetic field… or… interference field…” John slides him a look. “When you came in the door. Those pins and needles… it was some kind of electric charge, specific to your body.” He wags a finger between him and Angie. “That’s why we didn’t feel it.”
“Electric charge… like, what static…”
“Exactly!” McKay’s had one of his ah-ah moments and now his eyes are shining. “The Ancients are pure energy… so their thoughts are…well…energy too and probably pass through the air like…radio waves. Just because he’s back on our plane of existence doesn’t mean he wasn’t changed in some fundamental way, or already that way before ascending.”
“Are you saying he’s psychic?” John’s very uncomfortable with that idea.
“No…no. But like a radio, the more energy pumped into a signal, the farther the signal goes. So…”
“He’s got left over energy pumping up his thoughts that just happen to match my receiver?”
“Yes!”
Angie raises a brow. “And that field at the door he felt?”
“Scrambles the wave.” Another snap of the fingers. “That explains the interference to the Ancient radio.”
“It does?” Angie doesn’t look convinced.
“Well…not entirely, I’m still weirded out by all your…one-sided conversations…but it might make more sense if we all remember what happened on PXT-705.”
John feels Angie tense in his arms. “Really rather not, McKay,” she growls.
“No..n..not that. I mean the lab. Janus’s lab that only you could operate.”
Angie’s gaze narrows on him. “Is this about your wacky idea that I’m some kind of descendant of Janus?”
“I know, I know, unreasonable to think all that genius would be wasted on you, but…well…” he motions to her again. “There is the I.Q. as limited as it is. Plus the whole gene thing.”
“But the ATA gene isn’t person specific, McKay,” John says. “Everyone who has it, whether naturally or not, gets the same responses from Atlantis.”
“Not all of Atlantis. Don’t forget, I still can’t use the chair. And Janus’s lab on Huskin was totally out of my league…” he waves a hand at John. “Even your league. Only her touch turned it on.”
Angie grins wickedly at John. “Sounds like you and that lab have something in common.”
“Hmm,” John grunts, trying to ignore the heat that her body against his is generating… everywhere.
“Wait!” Angie suddenly pulls away from John and looks around the room again. She goes out into the hallway and turns back to look at them. “Maybe it wasn’t the Ancients… maybe it was a radio… or… I mean… a message.”
“The lab!” McKay says. “The crystal.”
Angie nods. “When I touched that console, I kinda went on autopilot… straight here.” She comes back into the room. “But why?”
McKay shrugs. “Subconscious.”
“Oh not that again,” she groans.
“No. It makes sense… if any of this actually does. You’re linked to anything Janus put his own special DNA-ATA gene-stamp on so that no one else could activate his devices… or possibly steal his research.”
“Steal, Rodney? Really?” John makes a face. “They were Ancients.”
“Yeah. So? Not all of them ascended and they were still human…we know what kind of baggage we all carry, who’s to say they didn’t have jealousy, greed, or supposedly the worst of the sins, which I thoroughly don’t subscribe to. I mean it. Why is it wrong to want to accomplish something and then get the credit for it? Really, it makes no sense to me that anyone would find that to be a sin.”
Off Angie’s confused look, John says: “Pride.”
“Oh right.”
“Anyway. So Janus’s DNA was basically his version of a password protect…with a firewall and padlock and a big bank vault door rolled into one. Anyway. You were concentrating on finding a place for Elizabeth and the Major and in your subconscious you must have had a thought about Sheppard’s and his link and a way to break it.”
“So, Janus led me here.”
“Y…No.”
“No?”
“Atlantis.”
“Atlantis led her here?”
“Well, probably a sub-program of a sub-program. According to old Elizabeth, Janus was sure that Atlantis would be inhabited again. So he must have assumed that his ‘off-spring’ would be some of the inhabitants and basically wanted to leave…something…behind…” McKay doesn’t look so sure about that last part.
“Ah huh,” Angie and John mutter together.
“That would explain why you didn’t get any answers to your questions,” John offers.
“True.”
McKay swirls a finger in the air. “Are you still hearing… anything?”
Angie raises her brows, and lets her eyes roam over the room. “No?” She cocks her head. “Not since John came into the room.”
“And got the needles and pins,” John adds.
“There you go!” McKay says triumphantly.
“Ohhh,” Angie sighs happily as she returns to John’s side and gives him a squeeze. “That was so nice of him, to give you this refuge from the newlywed porn channel.”
“Well…technically,” McKay says. “You did. By…thinking…about it? And somewhere in that ridiculously brilliant brain of yours… you also came up with the solution. And Atlantis did the rest.”
Angie scrunches her face in disbelief. “I’m not a scientist.”
“Photographic memory,” McKay heaves.
“Oh yeah that,” she grins at John. “Thank me properly, lover.”
John dips his head and kisses her eagerly. Her soft lips part and their tongues meet in an erotic mating dance. John hears McKay groaning in annoyance, but this time he doesn’t care. He wraps his arms around Angie and meshes her chest against his. Her hands splay over his shoulders, then up his neck and into his hair. God, how he loves it when she does that.
“Do you two ever come up for air?”
John parts with Angie’s lips but his eyes don’t leave her gorgeous face. “McKay… go eat lunch.”
Angie’s sly grin is full of promise. “And lock the door on your way out.” Then she kisses him again. As the blood rushes from his brain to other parts of his anatomy, John is pretty sure he hears McKay mutter something about bunny rabbits and then the door closes with a whoosh.
“So…how did you unlock the door?”
“Oh…” she runs a finger over his bottom lip and he catches it gently with his teeth. “That’s the really freaky part.”
“That is? Not the voice only you could hear, or the electric field zapping me…or the fact that I know what is four stories down in the next tower over…?”
She nods. “Yep. The lock was password protected.”
“Like when you locked me in the gym.”
“Uh huh.”
“So…what was the password?”
“327.”
“327,” John echoes absently… as if remembering something important. He shakes it off. “Okay. Random.”
Angie takes a deep breath and licks her lips before biting the bottom one again. “Not so much.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s my birthday.”
With his hands on her shoulders, John gently pushes back from her. “Birthday?”
She nods side-to-side. “Uh huh. March 27th.”
He playfully narrows his eyes at her. “What year?”
Angie laughs. “Nice try. That wasn’t part of the password.” Her smile fades and confusion furrows her brows. “John. That’s my real birthday… not Jax’s, not the one on file here. But the one no one celebrates, hasn’t celebrated in nearly nine years. How could that be a password on a locked door in Atlantis in the Pegusas Galaxy?”
“Better question,” John raises a brow. “How did you know to use it?”
She makes a cute face, wrinkling her nose a bit. “Let’s be like Scarlett O’Hara.”
John grins. “And think about it tomorrow?”
“Or the next day,” she grins. “After all… we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
“Work, huh.”
She trails kisses from his cheek down his neck. “Well… you know… the sofa, the floor, the balcony…”
“Balcony?”
“Fresh air is always good for the complexion.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“Really? Do tell.”
John swings her up, hooking an arm under her knees. “Let’s go to Heaven first.”
She drapes her arms over his shoulders. “And just where is that, pray tell.”
John steps over to the closed left door. “Master bedroom.”
She glances at the door then at him. “How do you know that’s not the kitchen?”
“Trust me.”
Her gaze turns serious and locks with his. “I do.” Then she teases a kiss over his lips. “Promise.”
John deepens the kiss as the door slides open and he takes them inside. Laying her gently on the bed, John brushes a finger from her temple to her cheek. “Welcome home, Angel.”
“Welcome home, Johnny.”