fic: Back Home [Pt.2]
TITLE: Back Home - Pt. 2
AUTHOR: renisanz
SUMMARY: A sequel to “Making Up the Past”
CATEGORY: romance, drama (Ronon/Keller)
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 1,700
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but they're fun to play.
NOTES: Hmm. . . spoilers? BAMSR, Quarantine, McKay & Mrs. Miller (but you definitely should have seen that ep by now). Apologies? Sorry this took so long. This narrative has a mind of it's own.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Back Home - Pt. 1
Jennifer rubbed the bridge of her nose and then looked back into the eyepiece of the microscope. She flipped a switch to increase the magnification, but the action proved futile. The view in front of her didn't reveal anything new that the last fifty or so attempts had. She needed a fresher, more concentrated sample if she was going to isolate the specific chemical that up to this point had eluded detection. The deterioration of the sample made a stronger case for the prospect that she would have to go back there-to Ferra.
She leaned away from the desk, absently reaching for the cup she had laid somewhere on the side of the machine. Her fingers circled around the cool handle of her mug, bringing it to her lips. The cup was nearly to her mouth before she realized it was empty. Great. Now she was out of tea, too. She sighed in longing for the sweet taste of chai as she barely managed to not slam the cup down on the table. Normally, Jen would be drinking a steaming cup of cappuccino, but now she had to consider the effect the caffeine would have on the two little beings developing inside her. It had been barely a week since she had discovered that she was not only pregnant, but carrying twins. Jennifer still had yet to reveal her condition to Col. Cater. She knew that she would have to reveal it to the woman when she presented her with the information that had fueled her need to return to Ferra.
And there was still the matter of telling her father. Jenifer had yet to figure out a way to tell him about Ronon. However, she was particularly adverse to the idea telling him about his future grandchildren over e-mail.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated,” she mumbled to the air of the empty lab, rubbing her hands over her face. In her rolling stool, she pushed away from the desk and turned to get up. Jennifer gasped as her legs swung into something solid. In her peripheral vision all she saw was a tall dark figure. She jumped back, nearly falling off her stool, until strong hands grasped her upper arms, steadying her.
“Geez, Ronon!” she breathed, clasping a hand over her chest in a vain effort to calm her racing heart.
“Sorry,” he said. His hands lingered on her arms, and Jennifer welcomed the warmth from him as it seeped through her jacket to her cool skin.
“You have to stop doing that,” she chided. He looked genuinely apologetic.
“I know.” He leaned down. “”M'sorry,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.
Jennifer couldn't help but smile in response to his affections. “It's ok. Just. . .be louder or something when you're walking up behind me.”
Ronon just smirked in reply. He looked over her head and nodded toward the table behind her. “You working on something important?”
Jennifer glanced back at her notes and then back at Ronon. “Uhm, kinda. Why? Did you need something?”
“Just you,” he sighed, taking her hand, and she let him pull her up into a hug. Jennifer brought her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. She loved how he was always so warm. She felt the familiar tickle at the top of her head that she had come to recognize as Ronon nuzzling her hair. She breathed him in as well.
A loud rumbling sound coming from Ronon's abdomen startled her. Jennifer leaned back to looked up at his green-brown eyes and saw a smile there. “Was that. . .your stomach?” she giggled.
“Yeah. You wanna get dinner?” It wasn't quite quite a question.
Though she had not had much of an appetite these last several days, Jennifer knew she still needed to try to eat whenever possible. Despite this, she had managed to gain weight. “Sure.” Then she remembered that Marc was coming back to the help her. He had already left to go get dinner, inviting Jen along, but she had opted to stay and continue working. “Let me just leave Dr. Pedersen a note.”
Right before Jennifer turned to find the notepad, she caught the unreadable expression Ronon got whenever she referred to Dr. Pedersen. He never said anything, though, so Jennifer just figured it was some sort of male rivalry playing out. Whatever, she rolled her eyes before scribbling a brief message.
The note written, Jennifer placed it on the opposite side of the desk that was Marc's work station. She turned back to Ronon. “Ready?”
Ronon was looking intently at her, his eyes traveling over her body, causing Jennifer to become self-conscious. “What?” She looked down at herself, timidly pulling at the inside edges of her jacket.
Ronon met her eyes. “You look. . . pregnant.”
Well, duh, Jennifer thought. A second later she understood what Ronon meant. She looked down at herself once more. Her abdomen was beginning to have the tell-tale curve that was unique to pregnancy. She was hardly far along, but the fact that she was carrying two babies was making the changes in her body more apparent than normal.
“Is it that obvious?” Jennifer worried. “I mean, you already know, and you notice everything, anyway-“
Jennifer let the sentence trail off as Ronon shook his head. She watched him with curiosity as he stepped forward, grasping the ends of her jacket. He brought the two ends together and zipped her jacket up about halfway. “Ok, you're good now,” he winked.
Jennifer blushed. Fortunately, she had worn her older looser, uniform jacket as her newer, more tailored jacket no longer fit properly. At the rate she was going, clothes were definitely going to become a problem. She had failed to make a list of things-to-pack-in-case-you-get-knocked-up-offworld-and-want-to-hide-it. Needless to say, her maternity wardrobe was nonexistent. She thought back to how Teyla had gone nearly three months without anyone discovering her pregnancy. Maybe I should ask her for some tips, “hiding your baby-bump 101”, she mused.
Her stomach gurgled, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Let's go get some food,” she sighed. Ronon let her lead the way.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Jennifer scanned the mess hall for a place to sit. She spotted Teyla sitting alone at a table near the far right corner of the room. “Let's go sit with Teyla,” she whispered, as Ronon came up beside her.
He shrugged in response, but followed behind her as she made her way across the mess. Teyla looked up and smiled as they approached.
“Hey, Teyla. Mind if we join you?” Jennifer paused.
“Not at all,” Teyla gestured for them to sit down.
Jennifer set her tray on the table, sliding into the seat across from Teyla. Ronon took a seat to the left of Jennifer.
After he and Jen had joined Teyla, McKay showed up shortly afterward. It wasn't that he had minded Rodney's presence. Plus, Jennifer was there, and he relished the opportunity to be audience when Jennifer asked him about his real name-Meredith. Yeah, Ronon definitely loved her sense of humor.
Eventually, the conversation turned to more sobering matters. It started with Rodney asking Jennifer how she had been feeling. Ronon could see that Jennifer was touched by Rodney's genuine concern for her, despite her teasing. Ronon couldn't fault him for trying.
Then Sheppard had joined them, sliding into the empty seat next to Teyla, as usual. Ronon was glad that they were getting along better than when she first told him she was pregnant. Ronon noticed change in the dynamic of John and Teyla's relationship, but he did not begin go understand the complexities of their relationship.
Ronon, however, had yet to confide in the Colonel about his situation with Jennifer. He had asked John about Earth customs in relation to courtship and how to proceed when one wanted to pursue a serious relationship. From what he had gathered from Jennifer's beliefs and in keeping with his personal sense of honor, Ronon knew it was imperative that he meet Jennifer's father-soon.
Ronon had a feeling that John sensed something was up, but just chose not to press the issue, as they all made small talk, discussing which candidates for the next film to be shown at movie night.
And Rodney had been doing an excellent job keeping his mouth shut about the whole thing.
Sheppard had balled up his napkin and deposited on his finished tray. “Well, I'm outta here,” he announced, gathering his tray and standing. “Oh, Doc, I heard you've been feeling under the weather lately. There's not a bug going around we should be worried about or anything?”
Somehow Rodney managed to choke on the spoonful of Jell-O he had just scooped into his mouth.
Jennifer flushed, and Ronon felt her fingers grope for his hand under the table, then entwine his. “No, no. . .uhm. . Nothing serious. Just been working a little too hard, I guess.”
Jennifer was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with John, but John didn't seem to mind. He was giving Ronon a look that was knowing and questioning at the same time, very similar to the look he had gotten after the quarantine lockdown.
John's eyes flicked back to Jennifer. “Well, just take it easy.” He met Ronon's eyes, “Both of you.” He nodded, smirked at Teyla, and then left them all.
Ronon narrowed his eyes, his mouth slightly open. Teyla merely raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips in an effort to fight off the smile that was coming.
Rodney was still wheezing, recovering from the dessert he had mistakenly inhaled. “Wait. . .does he know?” he rasped.
“No,” Teyla chimed in. She leaned closer to the table before she continued, so as not to be overheard. “I believe that John is under the impression that Jennifer is fatigued from her 'activities' with Ronon.”
Rodney scoffed.
Ronon furrowed his brow, but then managed an amused smile.
Overcome with embarrassment, Jennifer buried her reddening face in her arms resting on the table. “Someone, shoot me, please,” Ronon heard her moan.
These hearts,
They race from self-control
Your legs are smooth
As they graze mine
We're doing. . .
We're doing nothing at all.
-"Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional
TBC.
Back Home - Pt. 3
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Oh, John, if only you knew. Thanks
tardiscalling84 for encouraging me to persevere in writing the dinner scene. It was so close to being scrapped. Seriously.
Comments are so appreciated and encouraging to me. Thank you guys. :)
AUTHOR: renisanz
SUMMARY: A sequel to “Making Up the Past”
CATEGORY: romance, drama (Ronon/Keller)
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 1,700
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but they're fun to play.
NOTES: Hmm. . . spoilers? BAMSR, Quarantine, McKay & Mrs. Miller (but you definitely should have seen that ep by now). Apologies? Sorry this took so long. This narrative has a mind of it's own.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Back Home - Pt. 1
Jennifer rubbed the bridge of her nose and then looked back into the eyepiece of the microscope. She flipped a switch to increase the magnification, but the action proved futile. The view in front of her didn't reveal anything new that the last fifty or so attempts had. She needed a fresher, more concentrated sample if she was going to isolate the specific chemical that up to this point had eluded detection. The deterioration of the sample made a stronger case for the prospect that she would have to go back there-to Ferra.
She leaned away from the desk, absently reaching for the cup she had laid somewhere on the side of the machine. Her fingers circled around the cool handle of her mug, bringing it to her lips. The cup was nearly to her mouth before she realized it was empty. Great. Now she was out of tea, too. She sighed in longing for the sweet taste of chai as she barely managed to not slam the cup down on the table. Normally, Jen would be drinking a steaming cup of cappuccino, but now she had to consider the effect the caffeine would have on the two little beings developing inside her. It had been barely a week since she had discovered that she was not only pregnant, but carrying twins. Jennifer still had yet to reveal her condition to Col. Cater. She knew that she would have to reveal it to the woman when she presented her with the information that had fueled her need to return to Ferra.
And there was still the matter of telling her father. Jenifer had yet to figure out a way to tell him about Ronon. However, she was particularly adverse to the idea telling him about his future grandchildren over e-mail.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated,” she mumbled to the air of the empty lab, rubbing her hands over her face. In her rolling stool, she pushed away from the desk and turned to get up. Jennifer gasped as her legs swung into something solid. In her peripheral vision all she saw was a tall dark figure. She jumped back, nearly falling off her stool, until strong hands grasped her upper arms, steadying her.
“Geez, Ronon!” she breathed, clasping a hand over her chest in a vain effort to calm her racing heart.
“Sorry,” he said. His hands lingered on her arms, and Jennifer welcomed the warmth from him as it seeped through her jacket to her cool skin.
“You have to stop doing that,” she chided. He looked genuinely apologetic.
“I know.” He leaned down. “”M'sorry,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.
Jennifer couldn't help but smile in response to his affections. “It's ok. Just. . .be louder or something when you're walking up behind me.”
Ronon just smirked in reply. He looked over her head and nodded toward the table behind her. “You working on something important?”
Jennifer glanced back at her notes and then back at Ronon. “Uhm, kinda. Why? Did you need something?”
“Just you,” he sighed, taking her hand, and she let him pull her up into a hug. Jennifer brought her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. She loved how he was always so warm. She felt the familiar tickle at the top of her head that she had come to recognize as Ronon nuzzling her hair. She breathed him in as well.
A loud rumbling sound coming from Ronon's abdomen startled her. Jennifer leaned back to looked up at his green-brown eyes and saw a smile there. “Was that. . .your stomach?” she giggled.
“Yeah. You wanna get dinner?” It wasn't quite quite a question.
Though she had not had much of an appetite these last several days, Jennifer knew she still needed to try to eat whenever possible. Despite this, she had managed to gain weight. “Sure.” Then she remembered that Marc was coming back to the help her. He had already left to go get dinner, inviting Jen along, but she had opted to stay and continue working. “Let me just leave Dr. Pedersen a note.”
Right before Jennifer turned to find the notepad, she caught the unreadable expression Ronon got whenever she referred to Dr. Pedersen. He never said anything, though, so Jennifer just figured it was some sort of male rivalry playing out. Whatever, she rolled her eyes before scribbling a brief message.
The note written, Jennifer placed it on the opposite side of the desk that was Marc's work station. She turned back to Ronon. “Ready?”
Ronon was looking intently at her, his eyes traveling over her body, causing Jennifer to become self-conscious. “What?” She looked down at herself, timidly pulling at the inside edges of her jacket.
Ronon met her eyes. “You look. . . pregnant.”
Well, duh, Jennifer thought. A second later she understood what Ronon meant. She looked down at herself once more. Her abdomen was beginning to have the tell-tale curve that was unique to pregnancy. She was hardly far along, but the fact that she was carrying two babies was making the changes in her body more apparent than normal.
“Is it that obvious?” Jennifer worried. “I mean, you already know, and you notice everything, anyway-“
Jennifer let the sentence trail off as Ronon shook his head. She watched him with curiosity as he stepped forward, grasping the ends of her jacket. He brought the two ends together and zipped her jacket up about halfway. “Ok, you're good now,” he winked.
Jennifer blushed. Fortunately, she had worn her older looser, uniform jacket as her newer, more tailored jacket no longer fit properly. At the rate she was going, clothes were definitely going to become a problem. She had failed to make a list of things-to-pack-in-case-you-get-knocked-up-offworld-and-want-to-hide-it. Needless to say, her maternity wardrobe was nonexistent. She thought back to how Teyla had gone nearly three months without anyone discovering her pregnancy. Maybe I should ask her for some tips, “hiding your baby-bump 101”, she mused.
Her stomach gurgled, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Let's go get some food,” she sighed. Ronon let her lead the way.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Jennifer scanned the mess hall for a place to sit. She spotted Teyla sitting alone at a table near the far right corner of the room. “Let's go sit with Teyla,” she whispered, as Ronon came up beside her.
He shrugged in response, but followed behind her as she made her way across the mess. Teyla looked up and smiled as they approached.
“Hey, Teyla. Mind if we join you?” Jennifer paused.
“Not at all,” Teyla gestured for them to sit down.
Jennifer set her tray on the table, sliding into the seat across from Teyla. Ronon took a seat to the left of Jennifer.
After he and Jen had joined Teyla, McKay showed up shortly afterward. It wasn't that he had minded Rodney's presence. Plus, Jennifer was there, and he relished the opportunity to be audience when Jennifer asked him about his real name-Meredith. Yeah, Ronon definitely loved her sense of humor.
Eventually, the conversation turned to more sobering matters. It started with Rodney asking Jennifer how she had been feeling. Ronon could see that Jennifer was touched by Rodney's genuine concern for her, despite her teasing. Ronon couldn't fault him for trying.
Then Sheppard had joined them, sliding into the empty seat next to Teyla, as usual. Ronon was glad that they were getting along better than when she first told him she was pregnant. Ronon noticed change in the dynamic of John and Teyla's relationship, but he did not begin go understand the complexities of their relationship.
Ronon, however, had yet to confide in the Colonel about his situation with Jennifer. He had asked John about Earth customs in relation to courtship and how to proceed when one wanted to pursue a serious relationship. From what he had gathered from Jennifer's beliefs and in keeping with his personal sense of honor, Ronon knew it was imperative that he meet Jennifer's father-soon.
Ronon had a feeling that John sensed something was up, but just chose not to press the issue, as they all made small talk, discussing which candidates for the next film to be shown at movie night.
And Rodney had been doing an excellent job keeping his mouth shut about the whole thing.
Sheppard had balled up his napkin and deposited on his finished tray. “Well, I'm outta here,” he announced, gathering his tray and standing. “Oh, Doc, I heard you've been feeling under the weather lately. There's not a bug going around we should be worried about or anything?”
Somehow Rodney managed to choke on the spoonful of Jell-O he had just scooped into his mouth.
Jennifer flushed, and Ronon felt her fingers grope for his hand under the table, then entwine his. “No, no. . .uhm. . Nothing serious. Just been working a little too hard, I guess.”
Jennifer was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with John, but John didn't seem to mind. He was giving Ronon a look that was knowing and questioning at the same time, very similar to the look he had gotten after the quarantine lockdown.
John's eyes flicked back to Jennifer. “Well, just take it easy.” He met Ronon's eyes, “Both of you.” He nodded, smirked at Teyla, and then left them all.
Ronon narrowed his eyes, his mouth slightly open. Teyla merely raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips in an effort to fight off the smile that was coming.
Rodney was still wheezing, recovering from the dessert he had mistakenly inhaled. “Wait. . .does he know?” he rasped.
“No,” Teyla chimed in. She leaned closer to the table before she continued, so as not to be overheard. “I believe that John is under the impression that Jennifer is fatigued from her 'activities' with Ronon.”
Rodney scoffed.
Ronon furrowed his brow, but then managed an amused smile.
Overcome with embarrassment, Jennifer buried her reddening face in her arms resting on the table. “Someone, shoot me, please,” Ronon heard her moan.
These hearts,
They race from self-control
Your legs are smooth
As they graze mine
We're doing. . .
We're doing nothing at all.
-"Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional
TBC.
Back Home - Pt. 3
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Oh, John, if only you knew. Thanks
tardiscalling84 for encouraging me to persevere in writing the dinner scene. It was so close to being scrapped. Seriously.
Comments are so appreciated and encouraging to me. Thank you guys. :)