FIC: "I'm Hers" 2/?
Title: I'm Hers
Author: Enola Jones
Rating: PG for now
Characters: John, "Lantea"
Summary: What an interesting relationship....
Having a woman’s voice speak to you in the middle of the night was one thing. He could get used to that.
Having a woman’s voice speak to you in the middle of the night when there was no woman curled up next to you was another thing all together. He didn’t know if he could get used to that easily.
Having said woman’s voice speak to you telepathically was a bit - unusual. But he could get used to that.
Having this woman be the very city that you lived in, worked to protect, and considered home - well, now, that was going to take a lot of getting used to.
A whole hell of a lot of getting used to.
John was honest. He told Lantea this. And Lantea was honest back with him.
She hadn’t always been able to communicate. That was one of the ‘improvements’ the Replicators had made to her. They found mind-to-mind communication to be the most efficient way of working.
As if their minds were any picnic to be around, Lantea snorted. I much prefer you living ones to their illusion of life.
Illusion of life, huh? John decided he liked that term. Someday he’d get a chance to use it.
Lantea could speak with anyone who had the Gene - though she preferred to speak with John. You are the one it is easiest with, she admitted to him.
And the rest of that day, John sported a goofy grin that he couldn’t quite erase completely.
He chose not to mention it - afraid he’d be drug into the Infirmary - or worse, before Heightmeyer! Rodney would tease him, Ronon and Teyla would treat him strangely…. Worst of all, Elizabeth might think him completely cracked and send him back to Earth.
And having tasted communion with Lantea’s gentle wit and warm soul - John didn’t think he could survive on Earth anymore.
Not without this.
When he went on missions, he found that distance dulled the intimate contact, though it did not sever it. When he’d return, he’d lock himself in his room for the night and just revel in the new closeness he’d discovered with Lantea.
She, too, kept it their secret. She appeared to love the gentle intimacy of friends and secret-sharers they had developed.
Until the day came that they simply could not keep it secret any longer.
John was awakened by the soft sound of a woman crying and trying to hide it. “….Lantea?”
I did not mean to wake you.
It’s perfectly all right. What’s the matter? Why are you crying?
I do not want you to die.
John shook his head, smiling. Lantea, darlin’…. I’m not gonna die.
Yes you are. And I can not stop it. I can not--
And his radio chirped. ”Weir to Sheppard - are you awake?”
He touched it, activating it. “I am now. What is it, Elizabeth?”
”Report to my office once you’re dressed. It’s Teyla. She’s seen something.”
“Wraith?”
”Not this time. You’d better hear it from her.”
“I’m on my way.” He deactivated the channel. Lantea - I promise you. We’ll figure whatever this is out.
This is your death, John. Yours and all the warm-souls here…and I can’t stop it.
Then we’ll stop it. We will - us warm-souls and you working together. He drew on his clothes.
And her weeping slowed. I believe you. I always believe you when you are this confident.
He smiled. Good. Cause it’s the truth. He held out his hand and his P-90 slid into it like it belonged there. He slid it into his holster and strode out the door of his quarters.
He was so preoccupied that he never noticed it had slid into his hand from where it was slung over the back of his chair.
On the other side of his room.
Author: Enola Jones
Rating: PG for now
Characters: John, "Lantea"
Summary: What an interesting relationship....
Having a woman’s voice speak to you in the middle of the night was one thing. He could get used to that.
Having a woman’s voice speak to you in the middle of the night when there was no woman curled up next to you was another thing all together. He didn’t know if he could get used to that easily.
Having said woman’s voice speak to you telepathically was a bit - unusual. But he could get used to that.
Having this woman be the very city that you lived in, worked to protect, and considered home - well, now, that was going to take a lot of getting used to.
A whole hell of a lot of getting used to.
John was honest. He told Lantea this. And Lantea was honest back with him.
She hadn’t always been able to communicate. That was one of the ‘improvements’ the Replicators had made to her. They found mind-to-mind communication to be the most efficient way of working.
As if their minds were any picnic to be around, Lantea snorted. I much prefer you living ones to their illusion of life.
Illusion of life, huh? John decided he liked that term. Someday he’d get a chance to use it.
Lantea could speak with anyone who had the Gene - though she preferred to speak with John. You are the one it is easiest with, she admitted to him.
And the rest of that day, John sported a goofy grin that he couldn’t quite erase completely.
He chose not to mention it - afraid he’d be drug into the Infirmary - or worse, before Heightmeyer! Rodney would tease him, Ronon and Teyla would treat him strangely…. Worst of all, Elizabeth might think him completely cracked and send him back to Earth.
And having tasted communion with Lantea’s gentle wit and warm soul - John didn’t think he could survive on Earth anymore.
Not without this.
When he went on missions, he found that distance dulled the intimate contact, though it did not sever it. When he’d return, he’d lock himself in his room for the night and just revel in the new closeness he’d discovered with Lantea.
She, too, kept it their secret. She appeared to love the gentle intimacy of friends and secret-sharers they had developed.
Until the day came that they simply could not keep it secret any longer.
John was awakened by the soft sound of a woman crying and trying to hide it. “….Lantea?”
I did not mean to wake you.
It’s perfectly all right. What’s the matter? Why are you crying?
I do not want you to die.
John shook his head, smiling. Lantea, darlin’…. I’m not gonna die.
Yes you are. And I can not stop it. I can not--
And his radio chirped. ”Weir to Sheppard - are you awake?”
He touched it, activating it. “I am now. What is it, Elizabeth?”
”Report to my office once you’re dressed. It’s Teyla. She’s seen something.”
“Wraith?”
”Not this time. You’d better hear it from her.”
“I’m on my way.” He deactivated the channel. Lantea - I promise you. We’ll figure whatever this is out.
This is your death, John. Yours and all the warm-souls here…and I can’t stop it.
Then we’ll stop it. We will - us warm-souls and you working together. He drew on his clothes.
And her weeping slowed. I believe you. I always believe you when you are this confident.
He smiled. Good. Cause it’s the truth. He held out his hand and his P-90 slid into it like it belonged there. He slid it into his holster and strode out the door of his quarters.
He was so preoccupied that he never noticed it had slid into his hand from where it was slung over the back of his chair.
On the other side of his room.