Welcome To The Harem
Genesis - In The Beginning by Julie L. Jekel
Summary: What if Doggett hadn't been discharged for his injuries in Beirut? Would there have been a different "Adam" to Shannon's "Eve"? PG, Within/Without, Doggett/Shannon.
Genesis: In The Beginning
By Julie L Jekel
Disclaimers: Not mine. This is just a little "what if" scenario I
wanted to play with. I'll give all the characters back when I'm
Keywords: Doggett, Marita, Shannon McMahon, AU. Second (first
chronologically) in a possible series, prequel to "Genesis" by M.
Notes: This is set in an alternate universe where Doggett was never
injured in Lebanon, never left the Marines, never met and married
Barbara, and never had Luke. Also, this was written prior to "The
Truth," so please forgive any inconsistencies.
Rating: R for language
Archive: Gossamer, Ephemeral, the Harem, XFMU. Anywhere else, please
ask first. :-)
Acknowledgments: To Marianne, for taking my AU idea and running with
it, and inadvertently inspiring *me* to actually do something with
it. And to Erynn, a picky beta the likes of which I wish I had
Summary: What if Doggett hadn't been discharged after Lebanon for
injuries sustained in the line of duty...would there have been a
different "Adam" to Shannon McMahon's "Eve"?
"Genesis: In the Beginning"
by Julie L. Jekel
Jesus, she was young. Doggett stared at the woman sitting across the
table from him in his CO's office, taking in the perfect, unlined
skin, white-blonde hair and eyes like pale jade. Although she was
dressed like a woman in her mid-thirties, she couldn't have been much
out of her teens. Twenty-one or twenty-two at the oldest. How the
hell had a kid like her gotten in deep enough to be making him an
offer like this?
"So, am I under orders or are you offerin' me a choice?" he asked.
The woman's face remained expressionless. Yeah, she was young, he
reflected, but her eyes were aged even more than her wardrobe.
"Okay, so tell me somethin' about this project. If I'm gonna
volunteer for an assignment, I'd like to know a little more than
just 'tests.' What kinda tests?"
Her lip twitched. Years of experience watching people told him she
was deciding how much to reveal and how much was too classified for
anyone uninitiated. He toyed once again with the idea of going into
law enforcement once he finished his stint in the Marines, if he
didn't decide to go career.
"Advanced gene therapy," his recruiter finally revealed. "Cutting
edge biotechnology designed to promote spontaneous chromosomal
mutation in adult subjects."
Doggett leaned back, flabbergasted. "Mutation into what?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that, although I can reassure you that
the procedure is not ultimately harmful."
"How the hell do you know that if I'm one of the first guys you've
approached about this?" he pointed out, throwing her own words from
when she'd first sat him down right back at her.
He felt a swell of something like triumph as the blonde dropped her
eyes, momentarily disconcerted. She was hiding something--he couldn't
tell what, but he almost didn't care. He'd put a crack in that rock-
solid composure of hers.
"There have been...different tests," she stammered, then collected
herself and met his eyes once again.
"Sergeant Doggett...your name was selected for this program after
careful observation of your service record for the past six years. My
superiors believe that you have the physical, mental and emotional
endurance to come through the tests with flying colors, and you have
proven yourself unswervingly loyal to your country. This project is
at the forefront of preparing for a new war, a whole new kind of war,
which has been bearing down upon us for the past forty years. A war
that we cannot and will not win unless we use every possible weapon
at our disposal, and develop a few new ones."
In spite of the chill her words inspired deep within him, he laughed
off her nay saying. "C'mon, I've got clearance enough to know the
Soviets aren't that far ahead of us."
"I'm not speaking of the Soviet Union, Sergeant. I'm speaking of an
enemy so far in advance of us that even with our best efforts we may
"Who, aliens?" His voice was sarcastic.
There was no response but the same cool, even, almost sad stare.
Good God Almighty. "You're not serious."
"I can tell you everything you need to know, Sergeant. I guarantee
you, once you have that knowledge, you will understand the need both
for secrecy and for extreme measures such as this. Once I brief you,
though, you are committed--there is no choice beyond this point."
Fuck. How was he supposed to make a decision of this magnitude with
so little information? Doggett brought one hand to his face, rubbing
his temple and scraping his fingers through his short, spiky
"How much time do I have?"
"Take as long as you need," she offered with polite, scripted
grace, "but be aware that time is of the essence. Every day we delay
is one day less that we have to prepare, and that one day of
preparation could mean the difference between survival and
He shivered. It wasn't every day you got offered a job that sounded
like something out of a bad melodrama...or would if the person making
the offer wasn't completely serious.
"How many people have you talked to?" Sometimes talking things out
helped, his mom used to say. Maybe if there was someone else in the
Company he could hash this out with, see how they were leaning...
"Only one." She pushed a manila folder across the desk to him. He
opened it, looking up in surprise when the face of Shannon McMahon
stared out of a photo paper-clipped to the front page.
"Adam and Eve," the blonde explained, still without
inflection. "There will be more, but you are the first."
He noticed when he spoke again that his voice was hoarse. "Is she in?"
"You will have to discuss that with her, Sergeant," the woman replied
with a shrug. "I told her just what I have told you."
He looked back at the picture. Shannon, whose blue eyes were mirrors
of his own...leading some of the men in Bravo company to joke that
the two of them were "cosmic twins." Shannon, who'd thrown her heart
and soul into learning how to maintain the weapons of war the rest of
the company wielded because women weren't allowed to serve in combat.
The sassy, tough-as-nails siren, who knew more raunchy stories than
any of them but couldn't hold a shot of whiskey worth a damn. The
only one of the lot of them brave enough to cry as they sifted
through the rubble of what had been their barracks looking for the
bodies of men who had just hours ago been laughing and drinking with
them. The one soldier under his command whose judgment he sometimes
trusted more than his own.
The blonde stood, regarding him with knowing jade eyes. Reaching out
one slender hand she slowly drew the file away from him, leaving him
with nothing but his thoughts. "I'll be in touch, Sergeant."
Watching her leave, he realized he knew his answer. Not for God and
Country. Not for the whole Goddamned human race if this thing was
less than half as big as Ms. Covarrubias had made it seem...but for
Shannon. If she was in...
He was in.