Fic: 'And Kitty Makes Three' (Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, John/Vala, PG-13, 1/1) Title: And Kitty Makes Three Fandom: Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG-1 Characters: John/Vala Word Count: 2812 Rating: PG-13, for slightly naughty bits and general pantslessness Spoilers: N/A Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: Vala's latest obsession ends up being John's worst nightmare.
And Kitty Makes Three
"Just for the record, in case this ever comes back to haunt me... and I'm pretty sure it will... I was against this from the get-go," John said, flicking his turn signal.
"Blah, blah, blah, you were coerced, threatened, blackmailed, flim-flammed, et cetera, et cetera, whatever," said Vala with a flippant hand wave. "Take your pick." She peered at the Mapquest printout clutched in her hands, then glanced at the road. "Make a left here."
"Did you really have to leave a paper trail?" John asked of the directions.
"Neither of us are natives to this charming little city," she answered. "Would you prefer we get lost? But rest assured, I took precautions and deleted my cookies. Whatever that means."
John held his tongue against pointing out that Stargate Command hosted some of the most brilliant minds in the country. If they could hack into the background records of anyone in the world, they could probably check on a Google history.
"Make a right onto Sebald," she read, "and continue straight onto Haverford. Drive for three minutes and it should be on the right."
And then after a moment, there was the sign looming by the roadside: Animal Shelter. John veered into the parking lot, killed the engine, and prayed this wasn't as bad an idea as he thought.
"These little beauties came in not too long ago," said Clare, the shelter volunteer, gesturing at a mass of wriggling kittens. "Family didn't know Mom wasn't fixed. They're old enough now to be separated."
"Awww," cooed Vala, dropping to a crouch to poke her fingers into the cage. Immediately, a small gray cat clamped its tiny teeth around her finger. Vala beamed up at John. "Can we play with them?"
"Sure," said Clare, unlatching the cage. The kittens sprawled out like a miniature tidal wave of fur and fuzz. The gray one Vala was so enamored with started batting at John's shoelace. A brown one with black spots stuck its head up John's pant leg. Vala scooped up an all-brown kitten and deposited it on John's shoulder. She took the fourth kitten for herself and rubbed between its ears. "Aren't they all so cute?" she conspired to Clare. "Johnny, too."
John rolled his eyes at her but couldn't help enjoying her pleased grin. It almost made the whole embarrassing excursion worth it.
"You're like the Pied Piper," Clare said to him. "They've really taken to you."
"I can see that," said John. The brown one sneezed, spraying kitty snot over the back of his shirt.
The one in Vala's hand started wriggling to get away. "I think he wants to be with his brothers," she said lamely, and ignoring John's protests, landed the cat in the crook of his free arm.
From there, the black cat saw the need to bite the tail of the brown cat. The brown cat kamikazed off John's shoulder for a rebuttal. The spotted cat had managed to wedge its teeth into John's sock and was now nipping at his ankle. The black cat yowled as the brown one chewed on its ear. And the gray cat started choking on John's shoelace with pathetic little coughs.
Vala, teeth bared in an 'isn't this all just harmless fun?' grin, shrugged elaborately. She so owed him.
"Princess Leia Harry Potter Volkswagen," John echoed, laying a steadying hand on the end of Vala's cardboard box as she stooped to sign in.
"Uh-huh!" she said cheerfully. She clutched the box to her chest and John tried not to look at the guard. No one had to tell him twice that smuggling a kitten into Stargate Command was a bad, bad idea, but yet he'd been unable to say no to Vala's pleading.
"That's ridiculous."
"It's cute."
"Volkswagen?"
"I like their little bug cars."
John snorted, took her elbow, and started to steer her inside.
"Sir, the box?" said the guard.
"What?" said John and hated himself for defaulting to a guilty expression.
"I'll need to check inside the box, sir."
"I—" John began, having no idea what he was going to say to get them out of the situation, but Vala interrupted.
"Of course," she said, and pried open the flaps. John braced for fallout, but the guard just settled back in his chair with a nod, and jotted something on his clipboard.
"All right, you're clear. Have a nice day, sir, ma'am."
Flummoxed, John fell into step behind Vala. "What's in the box?" he asked.
She showed him. "Reading material." The glossy faces of various celebrities peered back up to him. He noticed the barcode on one of them had been chewed into fringe.
"And Princess Leia..?"
"In my pocket."
"When did you—"
"My dear Colonel Sheppard, did you think I made my way around the galaxy on my looks alone?" Vala smiled at him, patting his cheek fondly. "Although I could have."
As the elevator doors closed, Vala's pants meowed.
Princess Leia Harry Potter Volkswagen had an unnerving habit of crawling into everything. With this knowledge in hand, it made little sense for John to continue going to Vala's quarters, but people were less likely to look for him there. And it wasn't as though she didn't attempt to make him comfortable, besides.
Vala sat up and smoothed the fuchsia nightie over her torso. "I think I'm supposed to go to a briefing now or something," she said thoughtfully. She patted his calf. "You're welcome to stay if you like."
"This room's not much fun if you're not in it," he said with a grin, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back down to kissing level. Vala was always game for a little distraction, but a knock on the door interrupted before things could get interesting (again).
Vala grinned against John's lips. "Just a minute!"
John sat up abruptly, trying his best not to knock her over. "I really hope that's not Teal'c," he muttered. "Have you seen my shorts?"
Inexplicably, she started giggling. "Mhmm. There they go."
"There they what?" Then he followed her pointing finger to the floor, where his boxers were... rolling, was one word for it, across the rug. "Leia!" he snapped, and dove to intercept. By the time he managed to wrestle his underwear from around the kitten, straighten it, pull it on, and shuttle the cat back towards its box, Vala was already dressed and opening the door. John swallowed his yelp and dove out of sight behind the bedspread, feeling like the punch line in a ridiculous sitcom.
"Hello there, Muscles," purred Vala, giving John enough warning to stay hidden. He tried to scoot under the edge of the bedspread and was met with slight resistance. So that was where his pants had gotten to. "Sorry for the wait," Vala said brightly, "I had to make myself presentable."
"We are due for a briefing," Teal'c answered. Leia started to bound for the door and John shot out his hand to catch him. Her. It. Whatever.
"Well it's a good thing I'm ready to go, then. You all couldn't do a single thing without me."
John counted to ten after the door shut. He knew he looked like a first-class idiot, hiding half-under his girlfriend's dust ruffle, boxers on backwards, everything else not on at all, and a kitten attempting to claw his wrists to shreds to get away. When nothing happened after his count, John released Princess Leia and stepped into his pants, tried to wipe the accumulating dust off, and found his shirt poking out beneath the comforter. All he needed were his boots and his dignity, then he figured he'd head to the mess.
Leia mewled, trotting towards the door on stubby legs and batting at it. John scooped up the kitten and absently stroked its head. "Miss her already, huh?" he said. Leia tried to bite him. "No, hungry," he corrected himself with a resigned sigh. "I don't suppose she left food for you?" The cat blinked at him. "Why would you know?" he answered his own question. "More importantly, why did I think you were capable of telling me?"
John tucked the kitten back in its box and wandered off to do its bidding.
In his mind, John had started referring to Princess Leia as Mini Vala. The two shared a frightening number of qualities, for example, blatant displays of affection to earn some sort of reward. Disregard for rules. Being easily distracted by shiny things.
"I think Landry is going to start letting me out of the base more," Vala reported giddily one afternoon, drawing something on John's stomach with her finger. "With supervision, of course." She poked further into his belly and chewed her lower lip playfully.
"That's a big task, supervising you," he said. "Have anyone in mind for the job?"
"I do, actually, but I think he'll need some convincing..." Vala grinned at him before lowering her lips to his hip.
"I'm sure you can work him over," John said, eyes starting to fall closed and brain starting to fall victim to Vala's mouth, when there was a thump and she bolted upright. "What, what is it?" he asked, his brain jumping to Defcon 1 and thinking the base was under siege or something.
There was a faint, hollow sound continued beating irregularly at his right, and sort of knowing before he even looked, John turned to see a tiny kitty butt hanging out of the top of one of his boots, little spotted legs flailing. "Poor thing," Vala cooed, laughter tingeing her disturbingly maternal tone. She climbed off of John's lap and darted over to assist. The cat, John thought, was not the one that needed assisting, and he pulled Vala's pillow over his face.
All in all, John was not having a very good week, between being cockblocked by a two pound kitten (who, incidentally, had ended up puking in his boot), and avoiding Teal'c. John had run into him in the elevator one afternoon, and judging from the narrow look he'd received, John was beginning to suspect the Jaffa actually had seen him ducking behind the fluffy purple comforter. Since he didn't know how Teal'c might react to the idea of John boning one of his teammates, he decided to err on the side of caution and stay the hell out of the big guy's way.
In a lot of ways, he was beginning to wish he could stay out of Vala's way as well. Mini Vala was consuming all of her time. Which would have been cute, if it didn't mean John was suffering for it. Nothing like being replaced by a cat to damage a man's ego. Actually, of the two of them, the only one who paid attention to John was Princess Leia. She adored John, constantly rubbing up against him in unsubtle pleas for affection, and barring that, chewing on anything he left behind. He was starting to smell like cat. And of course, he couldn't forget the instance where he'd innocently reached into his pocket and discovered a disturbing collection of kitty litter. He had not worn those pants since, and the woman in the laundry room wasn't fond of him.
But when Leia slept buried in a wealth of satin panties on the other side of the room and Vala burrowed into John's side after a long day, it really didn't seem all that bad.
"The MALP report on P3X-749 suggests that it's a largely uninhabited planet," Landry said. "But there's a..." He frowned at the papers laid out in front of him. "There's... what in the hell?" The general pushed his chair back to get a better look beneath the polished table and John suddenly got a sinking feeling.
General Landry bent and emerged with a kitten in hand. "Chief!"
CMS Harriman poked his head in the door. "Yes sir?"
"Why is there a cat in the briefing room?"
There were a few moments of gaping before the answer, "I don't know, sir."
"Look into it, would you?"
"Yes, sir."
Landry turned his attention back to the team, and John hoped it was just coincidence he sought John's face first. Princess Leia batted at Landry's pen, and when it rolled away, hopped after it across the table. Wexler was gnawing his lip in two to keep from laughing. John forced himself to think of neutral things and show nothing.
"There's a cat in the briefing room," Landry repeated unnecessarily. "I trust you all have read the report on your upcoming mission?" There was a vague chorus of strained 'yes, sir's, as Princess Leia sank her teeth into John's manila folder. "You have a go. And do something with this." There was no question as to what 'this' might have been, nor were there any answers as to what 'something' might have meant. The general, considerably maroon in his face, wandered back to his office. Just before the door closed, John heard him say, "Jack never said anything about cats."
John and his team returned from P3X-749 with all sorts of readings on the atmosphere, flora, and fauna. Wexler was still babbling incoherently about the effect of the triplet moons on the planet's tides. John had tuned him out seven hours and forty-five minutes ago.
He was getting a needle in the ass when Vala showed up, squeezing Princess Leia to her chest. "She got out," Vala said helplessly.
"Noticed that," said John, oddly glad that Vala was already familiar with his ass, otherwise the situation would have been embarrassing as well as uncomfortable.
"What the hell..?" said Dr. Lam. "Are you out of your mind? You can't bring a cat into the infirmary! Somebody get her out of here!"
On the whole, John was not particularly thrilled with Dr. Lam being pissed off while she was wielding an enormous needle.
"Get the general," Lam snapped at the airmen who was manhandling Vala out of the room.
"You know, most people, when they want to grab me, just ask," Vala grumbled on her way out the door.
John pulled up his pants and wished, not for the first time, that there was a part of this procedure that involved him being heavily sedated.
John wandered about, trying to find flimsy excuses to stay on Level 27, but he knew he was pushing when he tied his laces for the third time. Vala came storming out of the briefing room and launched herself into his bemused embrace. "What happened?"
"I can't keep her," Vala said, more bitter than upset. "At least, not on the base."
John resisted saying 'well duh' and patted her back. "We'll figure out something," he murmured soothingly, wondering how this had suddenly become a 'we' sort of problem. Vala snuggled her head into his shoulder, which was different, and kind of nice, up until the part where Mitchell and Teal'c followed her out of briefing room. Teal'c studied John impassively.
"You're lucky he didn't kick you off team," Mitchell said, adding as an afterthought, "Hi, Sheppard."
"He's a mean old man," Vala complained. "A mean, cat-hating, bitter old man!" she yelled back in the direction of Landry's office, which caused Mitchell and John to each grab an elbow and steer her down the hall and out of the line of potential fire.
"Watch yourself, Sunshine, or you and the cat are going to find yourselves reunited," said Mitchell. "Off-world."
"So what happens to Leia?" asked John, which was maybe a bit too much of a reveal, given the way Mitchell glanced back at him.
"Carter's taking it," Mitchell said. "She used to have a cat."
"Princess Leia is a she," sniffed Vala, smacking Mitchell's chest. "Not an it."
"Right, sorry. You wanna take this one, Sheppard?"
"Sure," said John, painfully aware that Teal'c was still watching him. "C'mon, Vala, let's go give Carter the laundry list of Leia's demands and dietary requirements."
"I'm not sure Colonel Carter wants to keep your boots around her house..."
As John and Vala headed away, John heard Mitchell say, "And to think I wanted this job."
A week and a half later, John stumbled into his quarters with an ache in his side and dirt in every available pore. He wanted a shower and bed, or bed and a shower, he wasn't sure which. He flipped the light on, and maybe there was dirt in his eyes, because he thought he saw something move on his bed. Nothing big, of course, so there was that to be grateful for, but nothing was supposed to be moving, either.
Then a pointed little face appeared from beneath his pillow, followed by a long, slinky, white body.
"What the hell?" he cried out, jumping back.
And ended up right in the middle of Vala's eager embrace. "Welcome back, John! I got you a present. How do you feel about ferrets?"