Crack!fic: "The End of Restraint" by cupidsbow

Apr 22, 2006 15:50

I've had writer's block for weeks. Weeks! And then I saw this challenge, and seriously, it made me laugh so hard I had to drabble. I couldn't help myself, even though I suspect this is the kind of story that's only funny to the person who wrote it.

Title: The End of Restraint
Author: cupidsbow
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: John/Mary Sue (John/Rodney/Mary Sue implied)
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For aspacer's Mary Sue challenge.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Well, maybe I own the avatar of me. God, I'd be so totally hopeless on the Atlantis expedition. Even the Anthropologists would sneer at my doctorate. I'd probably be eaten within the week.


**********************

"Colonel?" Cathy called, as she took out the last ninja with a fancy flying slo-mo kick she could never have pulled off outside of VR.

"Still here," John said dryly, lolling decadently in his restraints as he waited to be rescued. Both hands were resting on the pillows above his head, held in place by pretty silver chains attached to the wall, and the muscles in his arms were tight with strain beneath his t-shirt.

"Yes, yes. Passive/aggressive is very attractive on you," Cathy said, as she climbed onto the bed and took up a position as close to the wall as possible, one foot nestled beneath each of John's armpits. Then she pulled out her trusty Ancient Multi-Purpose Screwdriver Gizmo, and started working at one of the bolts holding the chains in place. "But feel free to use your vaunted reality-manipulation skills to get us out of here whenever you like."

John manfully tried not to stare up at Cathy's crotch, which was right in his eyeline. "Hey, I'm not the one who wanted to examine the Ancient interactive story-telling machine, Doctor Stories-Reveal-Deep-Truths-About-Culture."

Cathy snorted. "Don't even start with me. You're the one who wanted to find out if there were any stories about the city flying. And also? I don't have the gene."

"Okay," John conceded, "so we're both equally to blame."

"Right," Cathy muttered, "for a value of equal blame that's skewed by the Sheppard-factor."

"God, you're as bad as McKay," John said. "Next you'll be calling me Kirk and accusing me of flirting with the ninjas."

"Such a shame it isn't McKay here right now, standing over you all chained up like that," Cathy said with patently false sweetness. "I'm sure he'd be so understanding and supportive."

John's mind filled with a vision of screen-savers of himself in chains on every laptop in Atlantis. He shuddered, even as he weakly protested, "McKay's a good guy."

Cathy's silence spoke volumes, most of them long, intricate academic theses on the behaviour-patterns of Homo Geekians. As though sensing the tension in the air, the Ancient gizmo she was wielding slipped on the bolt, causing a spark to waft down towards John's hair.

"Hey, hey, hey! Watch it," he said, leaning as far to the side as he could.

"Baby." Cathy waved a hand in the vicinity of John's hair, although whether to fan the metaphorical flames or put them out he couldn't tell. "You know what I've always wanted to do?" she said, as she went back to work.

John raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Set me on fire?" From his position, he had an unavoidable view of the underside of Cathy's breasts, which were considerably more impressive inside the VR than he remembered them being in real life.

"Well, yes. Of course!" Cathy said, in response to the eyebrow of innuendo. She cast him a sly little look. "And believe me, you're not the only one being restrained right now."

It probably said a lot about John's psyche that the joke made him feel better about the situation, and they both snickered companionably at the pun for a moment until the bolt suddenly came free and Cathy had to make a lunge for it so that it didn't fall straight down onto John's head. She landed on her knees, straddling him, the bolt clenched triumphantly in one fist.

"Oh, yeah," she said. "I could get used to this having co-ordination thing."

"Yep, you're a regular Trinity clone. Bring on Agent Smith." John tugged meaningfully at the chain still attached to the wall. "Come on. Free my other hand and I'll show you my infamous disappearing-handcuffs trick."

Cathy opened her fist and looked at the bolt. "Interesting offer. But you know, I'm kind of comfy right here."

"I'm not getting out of this conversation, am I?" said John, slumping back against the pillows, trying to press his hips more deeply into the mattress so that Cathy wouldn't get the wrong... right... totally embarrassing idea. "So, tell me. What have you always wanted to do?"

Smirking, Cathy dropped the bolt onto the mattress and leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose. "I've always really, really..." she shimmied her hips a little, right over the inch of space between her groin and John's, "really wanted to break Rodney's brain."

That so wasn't what John had been expecting. He stared at her, wondering if every scientist on the expedition really was insane, or if it was just the ones who ended up, however temporarily, on his team.

"I mean, yes, sure, he's a genius," Cathy said, sitting back a little so she could wave her hands enthusiastically as she made her case. Her ass was suddenly a warm weight against John's very interested groin. "But only in the hard sciences. Give him a person to deal with, as a completely non-random example," and she tapped John on the chest, just to the left of his nipple, "and he's a total moron. Emphasis on the more."

Ignoring the way his nipple tightened up and rubbed against his shirt, John tried to keep his voice even and reasonable as he said, "Do you have a death wish? Seriously, fucking with McKay is a bad idea."

"Oh, please. Fucking with McKay is a totally hot idea, and you know it. I've seen the way you look at him." She unhitched herself from her position on top of John and leaned over the side of the bed to pick up the Ancient gizmo from where it had landed during her swan dive for the bolt. Then she rolled back onto the bed, fingering the device. "I may not know much about hard science, but when it comes to people, I'm a genius, you know. I see all. I know all." As punctuation to that declaration, she trailed the non-pointy end of the device in a circle around John's belly. "And I can make anyone believe anything six ways before breakfast and then again in a new position afterwards."

All John's breath rushed out of his lungs as a surge of hot, tingly pleasure curled through him. He looked down at where the end of the device was pressed against his t-shirt. "Jesus fuck! What the hell is that?"

"That's me, making you a believer." Cathy ran the device in a gentle figure-eight around both John's nipples.

John arched up off the bed, a harsh grunt forced from his throat.

"So," said Cathy, pulling the device away. "Your options are a) helping me with the breaking-Rodney's-brain plan, which includes the bonus of hot threesome sex once we've got him just where we want him. Or b) forgetting this whole conversation ever took place and chalking it up to the strange side-effects of the unknown Ancient tech currently interfaced with our minds."

She stood and shuffled back into place, one foot under each of John's armpits, and John had that perfect view of her crotch and breasts again. "Think about it while I undo the other bolt."

And okay, maybe the breasts were enhanced right now, but damn it, the whole evil genius thing was real enough, and John had always had a weakness for that. And as though that wasn't enough, Cathy was actually offering a double-helping of it.

Licking dry lips with an equally dry tongue, John said, "I've thought."

Cathy attacked the other bolt with vigour, using her arm to shield John from another spray of sparks, but even over the scriiiick of metal-on-metal, John could still hear the smug satisfaction saturating her voice as she replied, "Yeah? Colour me shocked."

* * *

fiction, sga

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