Faustian Hopscotch Chap 1
Title:Faustian Hopscotch
Author:Calamityjim
Fandoms:Supernatura/SGA
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Supernatural-Spoilers to season 5, SG-1, to season 9, and SGA, all seasons. Also Violence, swearing, pairings, sexual content, and aliens
Disclaimer:Stargate belongs to MGM, Supernatural to the CW
Distribution: Crossposted on fanfic.net
Summary: A routine training mission has everyone up in arms when a people Atlantis thought long gone decides to join the party. Dean, at least, is glad for the distraction from what everyone who knows wishes he didn't know. You know? Sequel to Puddle Jumping
This is the Sequel to Puddle Jumping. If you haven't read it do so because if you don't this will make no sense.
AN-warning! An itty bit of sexual content in this chapter, but it's pretty light. Second base. No more than that for now. I promise.
Faustian Hopscotch
Chapter 1
In Emperor's Clothes
John Sheppard looked across the sea of faces, most familiar but some not, and heaved an internal sigh. This was not what he wanted to be doing on his first week of active duty.
It had taken a month to escape the clutches of Carson, who had taken their little impromptu swan dive off of the East Pier personally. Even though none of them had developed any sign of new illness Beckett had used it as an excuse to hold them longer, citing all kinds of bullshit medical jargon at them until they had acquiesced.
When John had finally been allowed to leave he had still been busted back to light duty until Beckett saw fit, leaving John to deal with the paperwork that came with turning into a bug. It had taken John a while to find the right sheet; the list of forms involving insect related injuries included but were not limited to being bitten by an insect, being poisoned by an insect, being turned into a cocoon, invasions of mechanical insects, seeing invisible interdimensional insects, and having the base be taken over by invisible insects. John really hoped that some of the sheets had been draw up in case of potential problems instead of in response to actual issues. This was part of the reason he hated doing paperwork. On Earth it was simply boring. Here it scared the shit out of him.
The day he had finally been allowed to do real work and get back out into the field and do his goddamn job Elizabeth had called him to her office to remind him that the field training he had scheduled had been postponed due to John's absence. Not that it was an actual problem. She and Major Lorne, John's XO, had taken the time reorganize and reschedule, which meant that John's first action of active duty was to give the field training speech.
Oh joy.
Not that John truly had any right to be mad. It was all standard procedure and if John could actually relax a bit it would probably even be fun. The problem was that after a month and half the one thing John was craving above all was routine. He wanted to get back into the swing of things and start sparring with Teyla and snarking with Rodney. He wanted to drink with Ronon again and go off world with his team.
The sooner he could get back to normal the sooner he'd stop dreaming of screams and the taste of flesh.
John buried his frown under a lazy smile and stepped up to the podium. "Hello," John drawled the word, his eyes sweeping over the crowd trying to measure the mood. "For those of you who don't know I'm Colonel Sheppard. Normally I would have met you all after you arrived but I was unavailable."
"We heard you turned into a bug!" A ripple went through the crowd at the announcement. It wasn't like the retrovirus incident was a secret but everyone had been taking great pains not to talk about it. After Cadman had ended up trapped in Rodney's head there were few things that could faze the expedition members and the new guys were going to have to get over their surprise sooner rather than later, which was part of the reason all of the new recruits had been scheduled into the training session. Nothing taught a person to swim like being dumped out of a boat into alien infested water.
John took a few seconds to wait for everyone to calm down as he memorized the face of the speaker. The blue he was wearing marked him as a scientist and John found himself inwardly cringing. Rodney had been away from the labs for the initial hazing of the new guys, which meant that the man who had just spoken up didn't actually know how things worked on Atlantis and had probably gotten comfortable being an asshole in the lab.
Rodney was going to eat the sucker alive.
When everyone had gone quiet John continued. "For those of you who don't know, I'm here to brief you on your schedule for the next two weeks. Everyone here will be participating in a series of combat field training exercises on P8C-392. Each activity has been designed to represent the specific hazards that come with the Pegasus galaxy. Some are designed to simulate mass combat while others are to give you a taste of offworld fieldwork. Everyone will work with a variety of different teams," John ignored the groan from the established offworld teams, "so that you can get used to working with other people's styles and behavior. You don't get to pick your comrades in an emergency."
John paused for a moment, letting people process before continuing. He took a deep breath.
"You will also be assessed on your performance. Those who fail will be sent home."
Predictably the room exploded into noise as people panicked. John held up a hand, waiting for people to calm down. He gave an encouraging smile before continuing.
"I also realize that some of you," aka the civilians, "only meet the minimal standard of combat expertise," which meant that they knew which direction to point a gun but could potentially unload it instead of firing it. "While this is meant to be challenging it is also meant to provide you with the tools you need to survive in Pegasus, not to drum you out and send you back home." That wasn't completely true. This week was designed to teach people how to survive Pegasus but it also gave the leaders of the city a chance to weed out any potential problems without having to wade through an ocean of red tape to send home those who were going to get other people killed. These drills were what Rodney called the last defense against idiocy.
"You will be judged on how well you perform in your area. This means that the medics will be judged on whether or not they can use a band-aid and the scientists will be judged on how well they can do whatever it is scientist do." The crowd let out a small chuckle, more out of nerves than out of humor, but John could see that people were now less likely to die of hypoxemia. "You will also be given instruction before being tested on areas such as marksmanship and combat protocol.
"But as I said, those who fail will be sent home. Those who refuse to participate will be sent home. Those who don't take this seriously will be sent home." It was better than people dying later because they were woefully unprepared for what being on Atlantis actually meant.
"But I'm a scientist!" John noted wryly that it was the Bug Speaker who made the hysterical protest.
"Please," came a familiar voice filled with disgust. Rodney McKay untucked himself from wherever he had been hiding and glared at the protestor until the man broke eye contact. "I thought in order to get over the Pegasus Galaxy you people had to have at least an iota of intelligence. Either the standards for intelligence have lessoned since I've left the galaxy or crippling brain damage occurs while on the Daedalus but since I've been on the Daedalus I'm going to presume that the latter is not the cause.
"If you really believe that being a scientist somehow makes you unpalatable to the Wraith then I can only conclude that the stupid have found ways to circumvent both Darwinian and the SGC selection process. As tempting as it is to allow the Wraith to correct that problem I actually need you people to at least pretend you can think and do your job, which includes not getting crushed under your own idiocy. I don't like doing paperwork and for everyone of you morons that commits suicide by stupid I have a stack load that keeps me away from doing my real job, which is keeping those who can breathe without instruction alive." Every scientist in the room looked at the floor, suitably chastised, while the Chatty Cathy of the group looked as though he wanted a Wraith culling beam to save him from any further attention from Rodney. Some of the marines were grinning at Rodney's incensed rant but more than a few were keeping their heads down in case the scientist turned his wrath on them.
For a moment John's grin became sincere and he reminded himself to someday tell Rodney how hot he was when he was breaking his minions.
"You will all experience simulated combat against Pegasus veterans. While I don't expect you to beat your peers I do expect that you give it your all and try your best. When you are not in combat you will be given a rundown on field medicine, basic Lantian technology, and basic diplomacy for dealing with the locals. All ATA users will also be taught how to fly a Puddle Jumper-"
"Sonuvabitch!"
The curse caught John by surprise and he instinctively looked for the source of the noise. At the very back of the room stood two splashes of red, the color indicating more of a lack of department than an actual one, and John felt a tension headache build. Dean had pushed himself away from the wall and looked a few seconds away from staging a riot, the only thing preventing him being his brother's hand on his elbow.
John felt his stomach drop. He was going to have to spend a week with the Winchesters.
Great. Just great.
x-x-x-x
They were going to have to spend a week with the colonel.
Great. Just great.
Dean ranted as he paced the room, his arms swinging wildly by his side. His face was flushed with adrenaline and anger and his ever boot step conveyed his frustration. "Son of a fucking bitch! There is no way in hell they are going to stuff me into one of those tin cans! The damn things don't even have wings! How the fuck do they fly? Don't answer. Christ, I can't believe this. Are we even cleared to go off planet? Fuck. We are so not cleared to go off planet. We're space janitors, Sam! Space janitors!"
"I don't think that matters, Dean," Sam pointed out from his spot his the bed. Even though the paperwork actually said "maintenance" Sam didn't bother to correct his brother. Their jobs were to clean up the messes of others while Sam had the additional LS duty, which consisted of thinking 'on' at whatever a scientist shoved into his hand. The LS, it turned out, stood for light switch. It was an accurate description of what he had to do.
Dean had gotten out of it because the city seemed to be like every other woman Dean had dealt with. While Sam's dealings with Atlantis were always pleasant and city seemed glad to help him, she adored Dean and tried to do what she could to spoil him rotten. This meant that when Dean walked into a room the lights adjusted to his preference, as did the temperature without him even thinking about the changes. Devices Dean had no interest in lit up just in case he changed his mind and doors slid open without Dean trying to go through them. The city wasn't just responding to Dean, she was anticipating his needs.
Sam found it cute though he wouldn't say it out loud. He was glad that someone else saw how awesome his brother was, even if it was a semi-sentient city. But that didn't change the fact that LS duty sucked. Sam's only consolation was that he was rarely called for it since most of the scientists had allowed Dr. Beckett to tweak their genes. There were few devices that required a gene of his strength to turn on and even then John Sheppard spent a ridiculous amount of his time hovering close to the labs.
Sam picked at the mattress, his thoughts whirring. "The Colonel said that we'd be shipped home if we screw this up."
Dean stopped. "No. That can't happen. We aren't going back. Johnny wouldn't let him send us back." If they went back Dean was as good as dead. The NID would kill him, and Sam, if they were lucky.
Winchesters weren't known for their luck.
Sam nodded. "No, he wouldn't, but he also said not to bring attention to ourselves," not that being eaten by the military CO didn't qualify as attention but apparently stuff like that actually did happen with some degree of frequency that allowed General O'Neill to sweep it under the proverbial rug.
Dean scoffed. "Yeah, cause when I go down in a fiery wreck no one is going to notice."
"Dean, talk to the colonel about it. He's not a bad guy and if you explain that you're afraid of flying he might let you out of it."
"Not a bad guy?" Dean took a step towards Sam, his hand flailing wildly. "Dude, he turned me into a contortionist and you into a freaking happy meal."
Sam leveled Dean a look. They both knew Dean was being unfair but dammit! Dean didn't want to play fair! He wanted to survive the next week without dying a horrible death involving gravity.
"Dean," Sam pleaded softly, slipping into his 'I'm trying to be reasonable because I'm an emotionally sensitive girl' face. "The worst thing he can do is tell you that you have to fly. If he does you are no worse off than you are now."
"Except he'll know I'm fucking terrified!" Dean winced and closed his eyes. Goddammit. He couldn't believe he just said that. He sounded like such a chick.
"They say the best way to get over a fear is to face it." Sam sounded like a bigger chick.
Dean glared at his brother. "Stuff the Dr Phil crap, Sam." He took three more angry steps before plunking himself on the bed beside his brother, his hands digging tightly into the material of the bed. Atlantis was supposed to have changed things for the better. It was beginning to look like it had just changed things. "Do you really think he'll listen?"
Sam leaned over and bumped shoulders. "I think he will. The reason he's avoiding us isn't because he doesn't like us. It's because he feels guilty when he looks at us and that's a good sign. It means he cares about people, Dean. I think he'll listen and even if he can't change it he might be able to make it easier for you."
Dean did not lean into Sam's shoulder for comfort. Gigantor's weight simply made him tip on the uneven mattress. "What am I gonna do if he doesn't? Dude, there is no way I can fly one of those things."
Sam gave Dean a mischievous smile. "If you're that desperate play the dad card and tell him he owes you for all the missed Christmases."
Dean glared at Sam. "I'm not that desperate," he grounded out between his teeth. Sheppard may have been his sperm donor in this life but he was not Dean's dad and never would be if he had any say in the matter. Dean didn't need a John in his life. He turned to face the floor, unwilling to see the look in Sam's face that said he thought otherwise.
"Dean," Sam murmured in the same tone he used to convince the traumatized to share. Dean's grip tightened. He wasn't fucking traumatized but if Sam kept this up he was going to be. "The ships are part of Atlantis. Do you really think she'd let anything happen to you?"
As though the city understood what they were saying she pressed herself into Dean's mind and he involuntarily felt himself feeling better. He tried to squirm out of the mental hug but was chided by soft bells for his effort. With another glare at his brother Dean submitted, allowing a freaking alien city to try and make him feel better.
"Fine," he tried to spit the word but he was certain that with the city pumping him full of feel better mojo that it came out as a pout. "I'll go see the Colonel. If anything goes wrong I'm pinning it on your ass." Dean stood and made his way to the door, which had already opened with the city's gleeful chirp. Dean paused in the doorway. "Back in a bit, bitch."
It slid shut behind him and Sam gave a nervous laugh as the tension he'd been hiding from his brother rose to the forefront. He didn't even notice as his own hand gently gripped his stomach. "Good luck, jerk," he whispered, praying that John Sheppard was a better human being that John Winchester had ever managed to be.
x-x-x-x
John Sheppard was a slightly above average person.
It was why Rodney deigned to put up with him. Physically John was an excellent specimen, his body honed hard with the constant exercise that came with fighting for your life. The height difference was negligible and therefore not awkward with John having only an inch or so on the scientist. His eye color was an intriguing hazel green that darkened and shifted depending on his mood.
Mentally John was superior to the majority of Rodney's peers. Not that that was an achievement in itself; most of the people Rodney worked with were vapid idiots whose intelligence could be measured in the negative. John had a subtle sense of sarcasm that, when targeting someone else, Rodney could greatly appreciate. The man had a way of cutting you at the knees and making you want to shake his hands for it.
John was also a closet nerd and could be persuaded to join in conversations on the merits of Star Trek compared to Star Wars when the need arose. More importantly John was a closet genius, making him one of the few soldiers who it was fun to play Prime-Not Prime with. The man actually presented a challenge to some of the geeks, proving that he had working brain cells hidden under his ridiculous mop of hair that seriously couldn't have been regulation.
John wasn't perfect; he wasn't even close. He was, however, tolerable, intelligent and willing to have sex with Rodney, which made him a rare and special combination that McKay wasn't willing to lose.
Which was why Rodney was here instead of his lab, standing in John's office and attempting to soothe his lover to the best of his ability.
"What the hell is your problem?" Even Rodney could admit he wasn't known for his social skills.
John smirked like a cat, practically purring as his gaze dragged over Rodney's body as he twisted his office chair from side to side. "You're still wearing clothes."
"Cute," Rodney glared down, unimpressed. "Now tell me why you were so pissed when that kid spoke up?"
"What kid?"
Rodney scowled. "I'm the smartest man you will ever meet so don't you 'what kid' me. Now why the hell are you all pissed at Rifle the shorter?"
John sighed as his expression darkened, the office chair ceasing to move. "Winchester. His name's Dean Winchester."
"Whatever," Rodney waved a hand, his brain immediately discarding the superfluous information. He continued to stare at Sheppard in his best 'I am not going to let this go' face.
John ran a hand through his hair, somehow managing to make it look even more mussed, if that were possible. He looked around the room, his eyes trying to find anything but Rodney to focus on. "I ate his brother."
Rodney sniffed. "That was ages ago. Besides, I thought they were over that."
John glowered. "They are."
"And?"
John snapped his eyes back to Rodney, his face filled with loathing and guilt. "And I'm not, okay? I'm supposed to protect the people of this base and all I can see when I look at those kids is how badly I fucked up and now I have to spend an entire week dealing with them."
"That's it?"
"That's it?" John's tone was scandalized. "Rodney, I dislocated both of Dean's shoulders and ate his brother. Alive."
"I still can't believe you did that. Do you know how many diseases you can get from eating raw meat? Let alone people? Seriously, if you start to have any strange twitches you should go see Carson immediately."
John gaped like a fish before scowling at his lover. "You are an insensitive bastard."
"Yes? And?" John continued to glower. "Look, if we have sex in here will you get over this?"
"What?"
Rodney spoke slowly in small syllables so the less evolved beings could understand. "Sex. In here."
"Now?" John's chair gave half a spin as the colonel leaned forward, clearly intrigued.
"No. I was thinking the next time the Wraith attack. Of course no-"
John's mouth silenced Rodney's sarcasm as it slammed over the scientist's lips and part of Rodney's brain marveled at just how fast Sheppard could move when motivated. The rest, however, was too busy sparking as John's tongue danced in his mouth.
It was John's roaming hands that shocked Rodney out of his stupor. As calloused fingers grazed over where his nipples were hardening under his shirt Rodney's own began to wander, sliding down John's torso until they found the button to his BDUs. John moaned and slipped his arms around Rodney's back, pulling the scientist closer as John buried his face in Rodney's neck, trailing kisses down the sensitive skin.
Rodney shuddered but with the dexterity that came from years of lab work he managed to pop the button. He slid his hand down John's pants, his lover's moan echoing through him as he found what he was looking for.
John's grip tightened and he spun them around. With a long arm he knocked everything off of his desk before pushing Rodney to lean against it.
"John," Rodney gasped Sheppard's name with lust.
The door to the office slid open.
x-x-x-x
Oh God.
Just… Oh God.
Dean was going to kill Atlantis. He wasn't sure if he could kill a city, but he was going to damn well try even if he had to salt and burn the entire freaking thing. He had been planning on knocking. He had even raised his hand to knock. In fact, his hand was still raised to knock. But no. The city decided that what Dean wanted, Dean got.
So if Dean wanted a door open the damn door would open.
Oh God.
Dean opened his mouth a few times, perhaps trying to stammer out an apology. Maybe it was to throw up. Whatever was supposed to happen didn't as Dean stared at Colonel Sheppard, who was currently bent over Dr. McKay, who had his hands down Colonel Sheppard's pants.
The city seemed to pick up on the fact that Dean did so not want to see this and the door silently slid shut.
Dr. McKay was having sex with John Sheppard.
Dr. McKay was having gay sex with Dean's dad.
Oh God.
x-x-x-x
The door slammed shut and John looked down at Rodney who was still staring at the door.
Well…fuck.
X_X_X_X_X_X_X
Confusion Clear Ups
The Insect Rant-
SGA Episode
Bitten by a Bug- 38 minutes Season 1
SG-1 Episodes
Turned into a Cocoon- Bane Season 2
Base taken over by invisible aliens- Show and Tell Season 2
Metal bugs (replicators)-Nemesis Season 3
Seeing Invisible interdimensional insects- Sight Unseen season 6
Cadman in Rodney's head-Season 2 Duet
Dr Phil-A talkshow host who gives really crappy advice in the form of Texan clichés. That being said: he is not a real Dr so he doesn't get a period. Seriously, he does not have a Ph or MD in anything.
Next Chapter
Author:Calamityjim
Fandoms:Supernatura/SGA
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Supernatural-Spoilers to season 5, SG-1, to season 9, and SGA, all seasons. Also Violence, swearing, pairings, sexual content, and aliens
Disclaimer:Stargate belongs to MGM, Supernatural to the CW
Distribution: Crossposted on fanfic.net
Summary: A routine training mission has everyone up in arms when a people Atlantis thought long gone decides to join the party. Dean, at least, is glad for the distraction from what everyone who knows wishes he didn't know. You know? Sequel to Puddle Jumping
This is the Sequel to Puddle Jumping. If you haven't read it do so because if you don't this will make no sense.
AN-warning! An itty bit of sexual content in this chapter, but it's pretty light. Second base. No more than that for now. I promise.
Faustian Hopscotch
Chapter 1
In Emperor's Clothes
John Sheppard looked across the sea of faces, most familiar but some not, and heaved an internal sigh. This was not what he wanted to be doing on his first week of active duty.
It had taken a month to escape the clutches of Carson, who had taken their little impromptu swan dive off of the East Pier personally. Even though none of them had developed any sign of new illness Beckett had used it as an excuse to hold them longer, citing all kinds of bullshit medical jargon at them until they had acquiesced.
When John had finally been allowed to leave he had still been busted back to light duty until Beckett saw fit, leaving John to deal with the paperwork that came with turning into a bug. It had taken John a while to find the right sheet; the list of forms involving insect related injuries included but were not limited to being bitten by an insect, being poisoned by an insect, being turned into a cocoon, invasions of mechanical insects, seeing invisible interdimensional insects, and having the base be taken over by invisible insects. John really hoped that some of the sheets had been draw up in case of potential problems instead of in response to actual issues. This was part of the reason he hated doing paperwork. On Earth it was simply boring. Here it scared the shit out of him.
The day he had finally been allowed to do real work and get back out into the field and do his goddamn job Elizabeth had called him to her office to remind him that the field training he had scheduled had been postponed due to John's absence. Not that it was an actual problem. She and Major Lorne, John's XO, had taken the time reorganize and reschedule, which meant that John's first action of active duty was to give the field training speech.
Oh joy.
Not that John truly had any right to be mad. It was all standard procedure and if John could actually relax a bit it would probably even be fun. The problem was that after a month and half the one thing John was craving above all was routine. He wanted to get back into the swing of things and start sparring with Teyla and snarking with Rodney. He wanted to drink with Ronon again and go off world with his team.
The sooner he could get back to normal the sooner he'd stop dreaming of screams and the taste of flesh.
John buried his frown under a lazy smile and stepped up to the podium. "Hello," John drawled the word, his eyes sweeping over the crowd trying to measure the mood. "For those of you who don't know I'm Colonel Sheppard. Normally I would have met you all after you arrived but I was unavailable."
"We heard you turned into a bug!" A ripple went through the crowd at the announcement. It wasn't like the retrovirus incident was a secret but everyone had been taking great pains not to talk about it. After Cadman had ended up trapped in Rodney's head there were few things that could faze the expedition members and the new guys were going to have to get over their surprise sooner rather than later, which was part of the reason all of the new recruits had been scheduled into the training session. Nothing taught a person to swim like being dumped out of a boat into alien infested water.
John took a few seconds to wait for everyone to calm down as he memorized the face of the speaker. The blue he was wearing marked him as a scientist and John found himself inwardly cringing. Rodney had been away from the labs for the initial hazing of the new guys, which meant that the man who had just spoken up didn't actually know how things worked on Atlantis and had probably gotten comfortable being an asshole in the lab.
Rodney was going to eat the sucker alive.
When everyone had gone quiet John continued. "For those of you who don't know, I'm here to brief you on your schedule for the next two weeks. Everyone here will be participating in a series of combat field training exercises on P8C-392. Each activity has been designed to represent the specific hazards that come with the Pegasus galaxy. Some are designed to simulate mass combat while others are to give you a taste of offworld fieldwork. Everyone will work with a variety of different teams," John ignored the groan from the established offworld teams, "so that you can get used to working with other people's styles and behavior. You don't get to pick your comrades in an emergency."
John paused for a moment, letting people process before continuing. He took a deep breath.
"You will also be assessed on your performance. Those who fail will be sent home."
Predictably the room exploded into noise as people panicked. John held up a hand, waiting for people to calm down. He gave an encouraging smile before continuing.
"I also realize that some of you," aka the civilians, "only meet the minimal standard of combat expertise," which meant that they knew which direction to point a gun but could potentially unload it instead of firing it. "While this is meant to be challenging it is also meant to provide you with the tools you need to survive in Pegasus, not to drum you out and send you back home." That wasn't completely true. This week was designed to teach people how to survive Pegasus but it also gave the leaders of the city a chance to weed out any potential problems without having to wade through an ocean of red tape to send home those who were going to get other people killed. These drills were what Rodney called the last defense against idiocy.
"You will be judged on how well you perform in your area. This means that the medics will be judged on whether or not they can use a band-aid and the scientists will be judged on how well they can do whatever it is scientist do." The crowd let out a small chuckle, more out of nerves than out of humor, but John could see that people were now less likely to die of hypoxemia. "You will also be given instruction before being tested on areas such as marksmanship and combat protocol.
"But as I said, those who fail will be sent home. Those who refuse to participate will be sent home. Those who don't take this seriously will be sent home." It was better than people dying later because they were woefully unprepared for what being on Atlantis actually meant.
"But I'm a scientist!" John noted wryly that it was the Bug Speaker who made the hysterical protest.
"Please," came a familiar voice filled with disgust. Rodney McKay untucked himself from wherever he had been hiding and glared at the protestor until the man broke eye contact. "I thought in order to get over the Pegasus Galaxy you people had to have at least an iota of intelligence. Either the standards for intelligence have lessoned since I've left the galaxy or crippling brain damage occurs while on the Daedalus but since I've been on the Daedalus I'm going to presume that the latter is not the cause.
"If you really believe that being a scientist somehow makes you unpalatable to the Wraith then I can only conclude that the stupid have found ways to circumvent both Darwinian and the SGC selection process. As tempting as it is to allow the Wraith to correct that problem I actually need you people to at least pretend you can think and do your job, which includes not getting crushed under your own idiocy. I don't like doing paperwork and for everyone of you morons that commits suicide by stupid I have a stack load that keeps me away from doing my real job, which is keeping those who can breathe without instruction alive." Every scientist in the room looked at the floor, suitably chastised, while the Chatty Cathy of the group looked as though he wanted a Wraith culling beam to save him from any further attention from Rodney. Some of the marines were grinning at Rodney's incensed rant but more than a few were keeping their heads down in case the scientist turned his wrath on them.
For a moment John's grin became sincere and he reminded himself to someday tell Rodney how hot he was when he was breaking his minions.
"You will all experience simulated combat against Pegasus veterans. While I don't expect you to beat your peers I do expect that you give it your all and try your best. When you are not in combat you will be given a rundown on field medicine, basic Lantian technology, and basic diplomacy for dealing with the locals. All ATA users will also be taught how to fly a Puddle Jumper-"
"Sonuvabitch!"
The curse caught John by surprise and he instinctively looked for the source of the noise. At the very back of the room stood two splashes of red, the color indicating more of a lack of department than an actual one, and John felt a tension headache build. Dean had pushed himself away from the wall and looked a few seconds away from staging a riot, the only thing preventing him being his brother's hand on his elbow.
John felt his stomach drop. He was going to have to spend a week with the Winchesters.
Great. Just great.
x-x-x-x
They were going to have to spend a week with the colonel.
Great. Just great.
Dean ranted as he paced the room, his arms swinging wildly by his side. His face was flushed with adrenaline and anger and his ever boot step conveyed his frustration. "Son of a fucking bitch! There is no way in hell they are going to stuff me into one of those tin cans! The damn things don't even have wings! How the fuck do they fly? Don't answer. Christ, I can't believe this. Are we even cleared to go off planet? Fuck. We are so not cleared to go off planet. We're space janitors, Sam! Space janitors!"
"I don't think that matters, Dean," Sam pointed out from his spot his the bed. Even though the paperwork actually said "maintenance" Sam didn't bother to correct his brother. Their jobs were to clean up the messes of others while Sam had the additional LS duty, which consisted of thinking 'on' at whatever a scientist shoved into his hand. The LS, it turned out, stood for light switch. It was an accurate description of what he had to do.
Dean had gotten out of it because the city seemed to be like every other woman Dean had dealt with. While Sam's dealings with Atlantis were always pleasant and city seemed glad to help him, she adored Dean and tried to do what she could to spoil him rotten. This meant that when Dean walked into a room the lights adjusted to his preference, as did the temperature without him even thinking about the changes. Devices Dean had no interest in lit up just in case he changed his mind and doors slid open without Dean trying to go through them. The city wasn't just responding to Dean, she was anticipating his needs.
Sam found it cute though he wouldn't say it out loud. He was glad that someone else saw how awesome his brother was, even if it was a semi-sentient city. But that didn't change the fact that LS duty sucked. Sam's only consolation was that he was rarely called for it since most of the scientists had allowed Dr. Beckett to tweak their genes. There were few devices that required a gene of his strength to turn on and even then John Sheppard spent a ridiculous amount of his time hovering close to the labs.
Sam picked at the mattress, his thoughts whirring. "The Colonel said that we'd be shipped home if we screw this up."
Dean stopped. "No. That can't happen. We aren't going back. Johnny wouldn't let him send us back." If they went back Dean was as good as dead. The NID would kill him, and Sam, if they were lucky.
Winchesters weren't known for their luck.
Sam nodded. "No, he wouldn't, but he also said not to bring attention to ourselves," not that being eaten by the military CO didn't qualify as attention but apparently stuff like that actually did happen with some degree of frequency that allowed General O'Neill to sweep it under the proverbial rug.
Dean scoffed. "Yeah, cause when I go down in a fiery wreck no one is going to notice."
"Dean, talk to the colonel about it. He's not a bad guy and if you explain that you're afraid of flying he might let you out of it."
"Not a bad guy?" Dean took a step towards Sam, his hand flailing wildly. "Dude, he turned me into a contortionist and you into a freaking happy meal."
Sam leveled Dean a look. They both knew Dean was being unfair but dammit! Dean didn't want to play fair! He wanted to survive the next week without dying a horrible death involving gravity.
"Dean," Sam pleaded softly, slipping into his 'I'm trying to be reasonable because I'm an emotionally sensitive girl' face. "The worst thing he can do is tell you that you have to fly. If he does you are no worse off than you are now."
"Except he'll know I'm fucking terrified!" Dean winced and closed his eyes. Goddammit. He couldn't believe he just said that. He sounded like such a chick.
"They say the best way to get over a fear is to face it." Sam sounded like a bigger chick.
Dean glared at his brother. "Stuff the Dr Phil crap, Sam." He took three more angry steps before plunking himself on the bed beside his brother, his hands digging tightly into the material of the bed. Atlantis was supposed to have changed things for the better. It was beginning to look like it had just changed things. "Do you really think he'll listen?"
Sam leaned over and bumped shoulders. "I think he will. The reason he's avoiding us isn't because he doesn't like us. It's because he feels guilty when he looks at us and that's a good sign. It means he cares about people, Dean. I think he'll listen and even if he can't change it he might be able to make it easier for you."
Dean did not lean into Sam's shoulder for comfort. Gigantor's weight simply made him tip on the uneven mattress. "What am I gonna do if he doesn't? Dude, there is no way I can fly one of those things."
Sam gave Dean a mischievous smile. "If you're that desperate play the dad card and tell him he owes you for all the missed Christmases."
Dean glared at Sam. "I'm not that desperate," he grounded out between his teeth. Sheppard may have been his sperm donor in this life but he was not Dean's dad and never would be if he had any say in the matter. Dean didn't need a John in his life. He turned to face the floor, unwilling to see the look in Sam's face that said he thought otherwise.
"Dean," Sam murmured in the same tone he used to convince the traumatized to share. Dean's grip tightened. He wasn't fucking traumatized but if Sam kept this up he was going to be. "The ships are part of Atlantis. Do you really think she'd let anything happen to you?"
As though the city understood what they were saying she pressed herself into Dean's mind and he involuntarily felt himself feeling better. He tried to squirm out of the mental hug but was chided by soft bells for his effort. With another glare at his brother Dean submitted, allowing a freaking alien city to try and make him feel better.
"Fine," he tried to spit the word but he was certain that with the city pumping him full of feel better mojo that it came out as a pout. "I'll go see the Colonel. If anything goes wrong I'm pinning it on your ass." Dean stood and made his way to the door, which had already opened with the city's gleeful chirp. Dean paused in the doorway. "Back in a bit, bitch."
It slid shut behind him and Sam gave a nervous laugh as the tension he'd been hiding from his brother rose to the forefront. He didn't even notice as his own hand gently gripped his stomach. "Good luck, jerk," he whispered, praying that John Sheppard was a better human being that John Winchester had ever managed to be.
x-x-x-x
John Sheppard was a slightly above average person.
It was why Rodney deigned to put up with him. Physically John was an excellent specimen, his body honed hard with the constant exercise that came with fighting for your life. The height difference was negligible and therefore not awkward with John having only an inch or so on the scientist. His eye color was an intriguing hazel green that darkened and shifted depending on his mood.
Mentally John was superior to the majority of Rodney's peers. Not that that was an achievement in itself; most of the people Rodney worked with were vapid idiots whose intelligence could be measured in the negative. John had a subtle sense of sarcasm that, when targeting someone else, Rodney could greatly appreciate. The man had a way of cutting you at the knees and making you want to shake his hands for it.
John was also a closet nerd and could be persuaded to join in conversations on the merits of Star Trek compared to Star Wars when the need arose. More importantly John was a closet genius, making him one of the few soldiers who it was fun to play Prime-Not Prime with. The man actually presented a challenge to some of the geeks, proving that he had working brain cells hidden under his ridiculous mop of hair that seriously couldn't have been regulation.
John wasn't perfect; he wasn't even close. He was, however, tolerable, intelligent and willing to have sex with Rodney, which made him a rare and special combination that McKay wasn't willing to lose.
Which was why Rodney was here instead of his lab, standing in John's office and attempting to soothe his lover to the best of his ability.
"What the hell is your problem?" Even Rodney could admit he wasn't known for his social skills.
John smirked like a cat, practically purring as his gaze dragged over Rodney's body as he twisted his office chair from side to side. "You're still wearing clothes."
"Cute," Rodney glared down, unimpressed. "Now tell me why you were so pissed when that kid spoke up?"
"What kid?"
Rodney scowled. "I'm the smartest man you will ever meet so don't you 'what kid' me. Now why the hell are you all pissed at Rifle the shorter?"
John sighed as his expression darkened, the office chair ceasing to move. "Winchester. His name's Dean Winchester."
"Whatever," Rodney waved a hand, his brain immediately discarding the superfluous information. He continued to stare at Sheppard in his best 'I am not going to let this go' face.
John ran a hand through his hair, somehow managing to make it look even more mussed, if that were possible. He looked around the room, his eyes trying to find anything but Rodney to focus on. "I ate his brother."
Rodney sniffed. "That was ages ago. Besides, I thought they were over that."
John glowered. "They are."
"And?"
John snapped his eyes back to Rodney, his face filled with loathing and guilt. "And I'm not, okay? I'm supposed to protect the people of this base and all I can see when I look at those kids is how badly I fucked up and now I have to spend an entire week dealing with them."
"That's it?"
"That's it?" John's tone was scandalized. "Rodney, I dislocated both of Dean's shoulders and ate his brother. Alive."
"I still can't believe you did that. Do you know how many diseases you can get from eating raw meat? Let alone people? Seriously, if you start to have any strange twitches you should go see Carson immediately."
John gaped like a fish before scowling at his lover. "You are an insensitive bastard."
"Yes? And?" John continued to glower. "Look, if we have sex in here will you get over this?"
"What?"
Rodney spoke slowly in small syllables so the less evolved beings could understand. "Sex. In here."
"Now?" John's chair gave half a spin as the colonel leaned forward, clearly intrigued.
"No. I was thinking the next time the Wraith attack. Of course no-"
John's mouth silenced Rodney's sarcasm as it slammed over the scientist's lips and part of Rodney's brain marveled at just how fast Sheppard could move when motivated. The rest, however, was too busy sparking as John's tongue danced in his mouth.
It was John's roaming hands that shocked Rodney out of his stupor. As calloused fingers grazed over where his nipples were hardening under his shirt Rodney's own began to wander, sliding down John's torso until they found the button to his BDUs. John moaned and slipped his arms around Rodney's back, pulling the scientist closer as John buried his face in Rodney's neck, trailing kisses down the sensitive skin.
Rodney shuddered but with the dexterity that came from years of lab work he managed to pop the button. He slid his hand down John's pants, his lover's moan echoing through him as he found what he was looking for.
John's grip tightened and he spun them around. With a long arm he knocked everything off of his desk before pushing Rodney to lean against it.
"John," Rodney gasped Sheppard's name with lust.
The door to the office slid open.
x-x-x-x
Oh God.
Just… Oh God.
Dean was going to kill Atlantis. He wasn't sure if he could kill a city, but he was going to damn well try even if he had to salt and burn the entire freaking thing. He had been planning on knocking. He had even raised his hand to knock. In fact, his hand was still raised to knock. But no. The city decided that what Dean wanted, Dean got.
So if Dean wanted a door open the damn door would open.
Oh God.
Dean opened his mouth a few times, perhaps trying to stammer out an apology. Maybe it was to throw up. Whatever was supposed to happen didn't as Dean stared at Colonel Sheppard, who was currently bent over Dr. McKay, who had his hands down Colonel Sheppard's pants.
The city seemed to pick up on the fact that Dean did so not want to see this and the door silently slid shut.
Dr. McKay was having sex with John Sheppard.
Dr. McKay was having gay sex with Dean's dad.
Oh God.
x-x-x-x
The door slammed shut and John looked down at Rodney who was still staring at the door.
Well…fuck.
X_X_X_X_X_X_X
Confusion Clear Ups
The Insect Rant-
SGA Episode
Bitten by a Bug- 38 minutes Season 1
SG-1 Episodes
Turned into a Cocoon- Bane Season 2
Base taken over by invisible aliens- Show and Tell Season 2
Metal bugs (replicators)-Nemesis Season 3
Seeing Invisible interdimensional insects- Sight Unseen season 6
Cadman in Rodney's head-Season 2 Duet
Dr Phil-A talkshow host who gives really crappy advice in the form of Texan clichés. That being said: he is not a real Dr so he doesn't get a period. Seriously, he does not have a Ph or MD in anything.
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