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Of Earth, Of Home

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John slowly woke, the harsh light streaming in from the open window feeling wrong as it fell across his face.  Not only was it from the wrong direction, but it just felt wrong.  The hue was just a hint of a shade off, and the warmth it generated seemed just a bit unremarkable.  Maybe he would be the only one to notice, but still, he did, because it mattered.  At least to him. 

Sitting up in the all too small bed, with the hard mattress not giving any to his early morning movements, he noticed the other things of that morning that made him feel on edge.  The sound of a hungry gull somewhere outside, closely tailed by the thrust of an airplane rapidly climbing towards the atmosphere, her passengers destined for vacations.  For business meetings.  Some perhaps to attend the funeral of a loved one.  And at once, John wished that he was on that airplane, or any plane for that matter, bound for anywhere but where he currently was.

Atlantis was still theirs, but she remained captive in the unfamiliar surroundings, the uneasy feeling punctuated by the odd sounds coming from the hallway.  Until they could convince the IOA, he and Atlantis’ inhabitants would be held captive in the unwelcome embrace of this now foreign-to-him planet. 

Of Earth.


Six months later

John slowly rose to consciousness, the thick blanket of sleep falling away as he stretched, a smile automatically spreading across his face.  The warm hue of the sun shone into his otherwise darkened room, spilling happily in a puddle on the floor, as well as reflecting off of a laptop screen, abandoned last night as fingers reached out, and lips tentatively caressed.  Followed by the craven need for skin, and the tangling of tongues.

The room stood mostly still, save for the sound of slow, even breaths at his side; Rodney.  John knew he should start the day, but the want, the desire to stay next to his new lover, grew too intense.  He turned to his side on the embracing mattress and slid an arm around Rodney's waist, then tucked his face in the back of Rodney's neck, breathing deeply of his lover’s scent.  While outside, the corridors of Atlantis remained mostly silent, with just the whispers of unhurried feet making their quiet way to their destination.

Not that John cared about anything else right then.  At this moment, his quarters was his entire world.  And while there was the sudden shadow of a seabird that darted across the field of his open window, it seemed to respect the morning, with only a stunted whooping sound echoing off of Atlantis' walls.

John and Atlantis were free.  Back in Pegasus, and back in the welcoming embrace of what felt right.  Of what was unmistakenly the feelings comfort and warmth.

Of home.