FIC: Max Guevara Tomb Raider: What the Ancients Left Behind 1/4 DA/SGA (Max/Alec/Logan, PG-13)
Masterpost
Sweat started to bead across Max’s temple. It had only been ten minutes, but fighting the large robot was giving her one hell of a workout. Its arm extended and fired live rounds. Max weaved then ducked and rolled out of the way. Turning, she took aim, firing then scrambling for cover.
Above her she heard the doorbell. Within seconds Max released the clip and reloaded; ready, she stood and fired. Simon staggered back as each bullet found its target and embedded itself in Simon’s metal chest until the robot slumped where he stood.
Once Max was close enough, avoiding the spray of fried circuits, she opened Simon’s control panel. Max took out a disc then entered a new one and hit enter. The display screen recognized the disc, ‘Max’s party mix4’ and suddenly the room filled with music.
Without looking at the camera, Max shrugged her shoulders as she passed Simon’s large metal frame. “Sorry Logan, gotta blaze.” Engaging the safety, Max securely put her pistols back in the cabinet.
Doors to the playroom slid open as Logan rushed in and made a beeline over to Simon. “Live rounds?”
“He fired first. Was he programmed to stop before he took my head off?”
“Ah... no, but you said you wanted a challenge.”
“True, I did and he was, for five - ten minutes?”
Max ignored Logan’s exaggerated exhale as he busily started to work on Simon; muttering under his breath, his focus completely on Simon. “Don’t worry Simon; I’ll get you fixed up in no time.” Sparks sizzling was Simon’s only response.
Max smiled, leaving Logan to go see who Sketchy let in.
---
Reaching the library, Max saw Sketchy coming toward her with a tray holding a larger pitcher of ice tea and two stacks of glasses. Raising a brow at the number of glasses, she kept her voice low as she inquired “Who’s here?”
“Dr. Rodney McKay and a Dr. David Parrish, they’re accompanied by three others. Two of them, not that they look it, although the shorter one does, but they feel like military, possibly mercenaries?”
Max raised both brows. “Huh, interesting. Then let’s keep an eye on things.” She pulled the door open and moved aside for Sketchy to enter first. She came in behind him eyeing the occupants in the room. The one with dreads was sufficiently taller and muscular judging by the confining jacket he wore and although his companion was shorter, he was compact and broad in the shoulders - his entire demeanor screamed military. Sketchy was right - they both felt like soldiers. Although the one she deducted wasn’t military appeared to be in charge as he stood and faced her. He was easy to smile with a boyish grin, his stance too casual, with hair he had a tad too much gel in if she wasn’t mistaken. He was definitely unconventional in regards to military standards. While the other two, even out of uniform, their postures alone exemplified soldiers.
Sketchy had just finished handing the last guest a glass of iced tea then hesitated to see if she needed anything else. With the slightest nod she dismissed him - knowing Sketchy would inform Logan and they’d watch on the close-circuit camera, in case she needed them.
Sitting down, Max took a long sip and directed her gaze back to the man with a lopsided grin. As she put her glass down, before he could say anything, a man behind him moved, offering his hand. “I’m Doctor McKay, Rodney McKay. I’d like to see the clock you recently discovered.”
Max didn’t have to say anything, as the doctor’s companions collectively gasped their own annoyance. “Way to be subtle, Rodney.”
“What? David and I need to look at the clock if we’re going to have a chance to figure…”
The man with the hair gel put his hand on McKay’s shoulder and pulled the man back. “Rodney, you’re being rude, introductions first.”
His smile widening, he turned his focus back to Max. “Lady Guevara, please accept my apologies. Rodney here, well the truth is Rodney’s a bit eager. Maybe we can start over? Hi, I’m John Sheppard.” He gently patted Rodney’s shoulder, “this here is Rodney. And to his left are Dr. David Parrish, Evan Lorne and Ronon Dex.”
Nodding to the men, Max poured more ice tea into her glass. “And what can I do for you gentlemen?”
“Do? I already said we need to have a look at your clo…”
Sheppard interrupted again. “Rodney…”
“What? We don’t have time to play games. You already said White is probably on his way there.”
At the mention of White, Max leveled her gaze at John Sheppard. “White, as in Ames White?”
“Yeah, though it was only a guess on my part not fact. Rodney’s jumping the gun a bit.”
“Regarding White, I’d say it’s wise to be cautious. The man has no scruples. Now, what does he have to do with my clock?”
John looked forlorn. “We can’t tell you.”
Max snorted, “And you just expect me to just hand over my clock?”
Parrish stepped closer and asked, “Perhaps we can just have a look at it?”
Max turned toward the tall thin man behind McKay who spoke. There was a distinct air of desperation and hope within Parrish’s voice, but it was his added, ‘please’ that swayed her own curiosity. Nodding her acceptance Max moved to retrieve the clock. Smiling, she spoke over her shoulder, “At least one of you has manners.”
Leaving the library, Max said, “I’ll be right back” as she closed the doors behind her.
---
It didn’t take Max long to return to the library. McKay and Parrish were instantly at her side examining the clock, both solely focused on the clock before them.
Parrish sighed in awe. “Beautiful. See there, the carved etchings. An exact duplicate of the hydrangea purodielios which populates and grows wild in sector four.”
“Yes, yes, there’s no doubt the design is ancient.” Rodney leaned in to trace his finger along the carved etchings, “but there’s nothing else to indicate the ancients created it. It’s more decorative…” Abruptly Rodney picked the clock up and turned it around inspecting the back then snapped his fingers. “Hand me a screwdriver.”
“McKay!”
At John’s warning tone, Rodney looked up, clearly annoyed he was being interrupted. “What?”
“Doctor McKay, he’s trying to tell you, you don’t have permission to open it - not without telling me why you’re so fascinated with my clock. You can start by telling me what ancients you’re referring to?”
Max watched McKay visibly pale, as he nervously looked to Sheppard for guidance. It was clear McKay had no idea he’d given away any information until that moment.
Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck and stepped forward. “Listen, we’d like to tell you, but for your own safety I can’t.”
Max eyed the man then asked, “It’s classified then?”
McKay quickly answered with a boost of enthusiasm that she understood. “Yes.”
Max didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “A military operation.”
Sheppard sighed, his exasperation growing. “Rodney not another word!”
“Then I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“What? No! We need to take it apart and fully examine the clock.”
“Again, not unless I know why. At the very least what White has to do with this, and who the ancients are?”
Rodney blinked, flabbergasted he had said so much then silently pleaded she give him another chance. Unswayed Max walked to the door and opened it. “Gentlemen?”
Sheppard licked his bottom lip, staring at the clock and contemplating whether or not to say something in their defense. Instead he caved and inclined his head. Parrish and the other two followed his silent order and walked out leaving him and McKay still standing there.
Sheppard walked over to McKay who was still staring, mesmerized by the clock and softly said, “Come on, Rodney let’s go.”
Rodney didn’t budge, his voice filled with conviction. “But the answer has to be in there. John, if I can just take it apart I’m sure I can....”
“We have to go. We’ll just find another way.” John reached out and clasped Rodney’s shoulder and squeezed. It was a simple comforting gesture with nothing to suggest otherwise, but Max’s instincts told her there was something more intimate between the two men.
Rodney’s exclaimed, “Another way, how…”
“I don’t know, but we’ll discuss it later.” John’s hand was still on Rodney’s shoulder as he guided Rodney out of the library to the front door. Sketchy stood holding the front door open, waiting for them to leave. Sheppard nodded to Sketchy and turned back toward her. “Lady Guevara, thank you for your time.”
With that Sketchy closed the door behind them, Rodney’s rising voice insisting her clock held the answer.
Max held Sketchy’s gaze for a long moment then turned back to the library to go collect the clock. Talking over her shoulder she said, “Have Logan meet me in the lab, let’s see if we can find what McKay thinks is so interesting.”
---
Logan stared at the clock as if it was going to spring open like a jack-in-the-box.
Max couldn’t help but state the obvious. “It’s a clock… and it’s ticking.”
Logan nodded and deadpanned, “Think I got that, a clock good for telling time.” He looked at his own watch. “It’s wrong.”
“That’s not the point, it wasn’t ticking before and no one wound it up. It started ticking on its own right after they left.”
“And they thought it was something more than just a clock?”
“Yup. Open it; let’s see if their instincts have any merit.”
Hesitating, Logan quietly asked, “You think this has something to do with your dad?”
“Yes. It could be why the military is interested and why White is involved; if there’s a chance dad is alive...”
“Max…”
Max heard Logan’s tone, it was a conversation they had many times, one she wasn’t about to rehash now. Thankfully they were interrupted when Sketchy joined them.
“Problem?” Sketchy asked.
Leveling a stare at Logan, Max crossed her arms and answered, “No, let’s get started shall we?”
Logan eyed her promising they’d finish their conversation at a later date then nodded his acceptance to move on.
Relieved, Max watched patiently as Logan started to unscrew the back. Once the backing was taken off, it only displayed the complexity of the clock. There was another backing with over a dozen more screws.
A half hour later, Max paced the room while Sketchy stood at Logan’s back watching.
With total focus Logan worked diligently and slowly took the clock apart, talking out loud as he named and committed to memory each screw, “…thirteen to quadrant three, screw fourteen to quadrant four...”
Losing patience, Sketchy rolled his eyes and sighed, “Oh please…”
Feeling the pressure, Logan heatedly replied, “It’s my system! So I know where they all came from.”
Abruptly Max stopped pacing as insight struck. “It’s camouflage.” She picked up a hammer and before anyone could stop her, she smashed the clock.
In shock, Logan sat back staring at the debris in front of him. “Okay.”
Max’s fingers brushed away the debris to discover a gleaming raised disc. Max picked it up; feeling the material she realized it had a design similar to the one Dr. Parrish recognized as ancient when he first inspected the clock.
Stating the obvious, Max said, “This was what they were looking for.”
Sketchy asked curiously, “What is it?”
“I’ve no idea, but I believe White does.”
Sketchy opened his mouth before thinking about what he was saying. “White, as in your half brother, Ames White?”
Annoyed by the reminder, Max curtly replied, “Yes.” Max raised the disc as she took a closer look. “It seems Mr. White has an interest in this.” Then she shrugged her shoulders. “Since Sheppard isn’t willing to share any further information maybe White will.”
Logan piped up, “You can’t trust White.”
“I don’t, but he might be able to shed some light on what this is. I’ll contact his people to set up a meet.” Max was about to leave and go put the disc in her safe when Logan stopped her.
“Max, just... be careful. White doesn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own.”
Max met Logan’s gaze. Although she couldn’t deny she and Logan were more than friends, more than occasional sex partners, they weren’t exclusive and saw other people - or rather one other person - at different times and took turns sharing. Logan never pushed Max for more than she was willing to give. She smiled, acknowledging his worry. Her eyes softened then she walked back to lean down to give him a light peck on the cheek. “Warning duly noted.”
---
After arranging a meet with White, his response was to send Otto in his stead.
Max didn’t bother to hide that she had the disc or that Sheppard’s group had an interest and wanted to acquire the piece. However it was no secret within her circle that she had problems dealing with secretive government covert ops since her dad disappeared while working on such a project. Appeased with her explanation, Otto promised he’d talk to White later that night quickly assuring her he’d have an offer by morning.
Returning home Max headed upstairs to shower. Afterward she wrapped herself in a towel and walked into the bedroom.
Sketchy, who prided himself on being not only Max’s butler, but also her personal valet, was standing there with an offer of clothes. Max smirked seeing the pile of suggested clothes he’d like her to wear to bed. “Oh… very funny.”
“I'm only making a suggestion - things a lady wears when retiring for the evening.”
“Mm...” and walked past him dropping her towel.
Sketchy sighed. “I’m told a lady is suppose to be modest.”
Max’s smirk stretched into a genuine smile, nodding her agreement, then made her point she was no lady. “Yes, a *lady* should be modest.”
---
The next morning in the game room, standing on the outside of the banister rail of the third floor Max looked down. With the harness secure, a bungee attached to the harness on each side. She was ready.
Max let go of the railing to fall then bounce back up. With small bounces, Max started her routine of aerial ballet exercises.
Twenty minutes into her routine, Max sensed something was wrong - she stopped. Resting back at the railing on the third floor, she grabbed the only weapon within her reach, a knife. Eyeing the area, her hand clutched tightly around the blade’s handle.
Max tried to pinpoint the source of what was disturbing her then glanced up seconds before a group of armed men crashed through the glass ceiling.
Immediately they started firing. Using the bungee to her advantage, Max vaulted into a somersault before she slammed into one man’s back and disarmed him, cutting his rope, dropping him unceremoniously to the ground.
Turning, Max kicked against the wall for momentum, and rebounded. With expert agility she used the bungee to keep moving stopping her attackers by any means necessary, dodging bullets and firing as she flew across the expansive room. Several men lay dead on the floor below another still in his harness midair.
Bullets sliced through one bungee, suddenly leaving her unbalanced with only one remaining. Grabbing the dead man, Max used his body as a shield from a rain of bullets. Suddenly she heard Sketchy yell out “Port!” and angled to the left.
Sketchy’s shot was true as the man fell dead over the railing. Of the dozen men who dropped through the ceiling only few remained. They were after her clock. Sketchy yelled out again, “Go!”
Max ducked and moved as Sketchy fired, and drew cover for her. Max dropped to the second floor and ran toward her safe room.
Once it was in sight, Max saw it was too late. The room was devastated - they had the disc - all she could do was chase after them.
Heading toward the garage, Max caught up to two men bringing up the rear. One she shot and killed; the other engaged her in hand to hand combat and she easily took him down.
In the garage, hidden between cars, Max tried to find an advantage. Around her different car alarms were going off as they tried to stop her. Just before she moved to fire back Max heard Logan calling out her name. Glancing through the broken window of the car beside her, Max saw an earpiece that had been left in the car seat. Max reached in and grabbed it, fitting it into her ear, talking to Logan, “Got you.”
Even through the racket, it was easy for Max to hear the concern behind Logan’s words. “You okay?”
“Besides that they stole my clock…” then she added with a bit more buoyancy. “Found the keys I was looking for.”
“Well if you found your keys...” Logan trailed off; Max could hear him clicking away on his keyboard before starting up again. “Simon’s still down. But my sensors are picking up seven more heat signatures in your vicinity…
“No wait, there’re more moving fast toward you. Get down!” Max ducked and scrambled away. Behind her she heard the sounds of massive gunfire. It took her a second to realize the fire power wasn’t directed at her. Cautiously she looked up and was surprised to see that Sheppard and the other two military men that were with him yesterday had taken cover and were firing at her intruders.
Someone suddenly screamed out, “Grenade, run!”
Without question Max followed the order and ran.
---
Dazed, Max raised a hand to her temple feeling the bump and the reason for her head pounding. Sitting up, Max hung her head between her knees while trying to remember what the hell had happened. Then she remembered she had been attacked in her home. They stole the disc that had been hidden inside the clock.
Max moved to stand, and immediately regretted the action as the room swayed around her.
“Take it easy, you took a hell of a hit.”
Max turned toward the voice knowing before she saw him that it came from John Sheppard. The man was standing there with a look of concern replacing the goofy smile she remembered from yesterday. Funny his hair looked the same, bed head, with the ends sticking out in odd angles. Apparently it was a style he preferred and had perfected.
The only difference today was that John looked like he was military. Whether it was from the almost uniform feel of the black pants and shirt he was wearing, his reactions during the exchange of fire she had witnessed or the casual way he had a PS90 strapped to a sling attached to his tac vest - Max couldn’t say, but like the friends he introduced yesterday, Lorne and Ronon, John Sheppard suddenly screamed military. The man held a confidence despite however unconventional he might appear occasionally, Max could now see why the man was in charge.
Refocusing, Max said, “They stole the disc.”
“Disc?”
“What was inside the clock.”
“I knew it! If you just would have let me examine the clock, we’d still have it…”
John cut Rodney off. “It doesn’t matter now. If White has it that means Michael has it.”
Max looked between the two men and distractedly asked, “Who is Michael?” while searching the room seeking out her friends. “And where are Sketchy and Logan?”
When no one answered, Max stood. Ignoring how the floor swayed under her feet, Max grabbed the arm of the couch and straightened her stance, the adrenaline of fear pumping into her veins. “Where are my men?”
John, place a finger to his ear. “Lorne what’s your status?” It was the first time Max noticed the small earpiece.
Lorne’s voice was amplified loud enough for her to hear. “Well David slowed the bleeding, but it’s not enough. If he’s going to make it we need to get him back to base. Doc needs to see him right away.”
Although she was apprehensive of the answer, Max asked, “Who?”
It was Sketchy who answered over the house intercom. “Max, can you hear me? Logan was hit.”
“Where are you?” Max didn’t wait for Sketchy to answer and started running where she thought Logan would be, in his trailer.
“Logan’s study, with two of the men that visited us yesterday.”
“I’m on my way.”
Behind her at a slower pace Max heard the distinctive sounds of John and Rodney following her; of John talking to Rodney or someone else.
Outside the trailer Max saw the man Lorne that John had been talking to. She slowed going up the short steps. Inside was chaos. Smoke lingered as sparks continued to flicker off of Logan’s damaged computer board.
Max glanced behind the console chair. Logan lay on the floor with a man kneeling by his side. She remembered it was the polite thin man from yesterday. She recalled that he’d been introduced as David Parrish, and Lorne had just said his name, David, again to John. David had slowed the bleeding but it wasn’t enough.
Nervously the man stood with his head bowed, giving Max the clear impression there was nothing else he could do. David stepped away, but not before Max saw the blood on his clothes - Logan’s blood.
Warily Max turned back to Logan and stared wide-eyed at all the blood, and dropped like a stone to her knees. Scared at the thought of losing him she swallowed and gingerly bushed Logan’s hair out of his eyes.
Suddenly a hand rested on her shoulder, as someone knelt down on the other side of Logan. “Excuse me dear, but if you’ll back up just a wee bit… there you go that’s better. I just need to stop the bleeding and read his vitals.”
Max watched as the man in front of her held a small instrument over Logan’s body. When he spoke he had an accent, Scottish if she wasn’t mistaken. “Colonel, I need to get him back to the infirmary now.”
“Alright Doc, Stackhouse will take you back, but keep me updated, okay?”
“Aye. Call my team, they’re on standby; we’ll need a stretcher.”
Confused, Max demanded the doctor’s attention. “What are you talking about? We need to Life Star him the closest hospital as soon as possible.”
“Lady Guevera…”
Max cut John off and snapped, “My name is Max.”
She heard his sigh of relief, when the doctor intervened. “Max, I’m Doctor Carson Beckett. I’m sorry lass, but if we take him to the hospital, his chances of surviving will be less than thirty percent. Then if he does live he’ll have a higher than eighty percent chance that he’ll never walk again.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Aye, I do. This device tells me where the bullet is located and the condition of the nerves around it. There’s no hospital or surgeon here that can remove the bullet without causing more damage.”
Max stared at the device. Immediately she noticed that the design, although different from the design on her disc, was obviously was made by the same culture. She didn’t know these people and didn’t trust the military. How could she put Logan’s fate in their hands? Then she reminded herself that Logan and probably Sketchy, and herself would have died if they hadn’t shown up when they did. Torn, Max stared down at Logan. “Your percentage?”
“Though there’s no guarantee, barring any unforeseen problems I predict he’ll be fine. As for the nerve damage there’s still a chance he’ll be paralyzed.”
“Percentage?”
“I’d say sixty - forty in favor he’ll walk again.”
“He’s going to need a blood transfusion?”
“Aye.”
“Good, then you can have mine.”
“Lass that’s very kind of you, but-”
Max didn’t let him finish. “It’s not out of kindness. My blood is special it’ll help him. You want me to trust you then you’ll have to trust me.” Max held her breath imploring him to hear her.
Reluctantly Beckett nodded, “Alright lass.”
Before he could say anything else, Max spoke up. “Sketchy can you…”
She didn’t have to finish before Sketchy called out as he left. “Going right now!”
Max heard someone ask out loud, “Where’s he going?”
Ignoring the person who asked, her gaze stayed leveled on the doctor. “I store a few pints in case of an emergency.” She watched Beckett’s mouth drop open. Pushing forward before she lost her nerve. “My blood, it has special properties, universal for any blood type.”
Taken aback Beckett tried to protest, “That’s not possible.”
“Trust me it is. You can test it all you want, but you have to use it on Logan. Promise me?”
Suddenly it was a staring contest, a combat of wills, and for the first time Max didn’t feel like she had the upper hand. Finally Beckett gave a curt nod. “After I test it and if it shows no signs it’d hurt him, then aye lass, I’ll use your blood.”
Max let go of the shaky breath she had been holding. Her heart ached; how could she make such a decision? Behind her she heard Sketchy say, “Max, I’m back.” Then suddenly the decision was taken out of her hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll go with him. Make sure they take care of him.” Then he added sternly, “I won’t leave his side.” Though she didn’t turn around, Max was sure Sketchy was doing his best to project a threatening pose, directed at the doctor.
Reluctantly Max nodded and bent down. Under her breath she whispered, “Logan stay strong, it’s not your time to die just yet. I need you, and so does Alec.” Then even lower, her emotions spilling to the fore, she huskily whispered, “We love you, I love you.” Her lips brushed over Logan’s still lips in a brief kiss.
Abruptly she pulled back and straightened. Like she did when her father disappeared, she shoved her emotions down, allowing only her anger to linger.
Outside the trailer Max heard a bustle of people arriving, the doctor’s team. Standing, she moved out of their way. Following Beckett’s orders they secured Logan and moved him onto the stretcher.
Sketchy came over and his hand curled around hers for a brief moment and squeezed. Then he let her go and followed the medical team wheeling the stretcher across the lawn to a strange aircraft sitting there.
Max watched with unease shading to growing curiosity as the team boarded the craft. It was one Max had never seen before. It had no propellers, yet lifted easily and took off faster than any helicopter or airplane she had seen. She turned to John and raised an eyebrow wondering if he’d give her any explanation.
John flushed and averted his eyes.
Instinctively she knew John was disobeying his orders. He didn’t say or acknowledge anything only shrugged his shoulders. However his actions and silence only garnered her respect for the man - he wasn’t a soldier to blindly follow orders. Looking past John, Max eyed his team that remained behind: the two scientists, McKay and Parrish and two soldiers, Ronon and Lorne. None of them appeared uncomfortable with John’s actions. It was obvious they trusted him. And given the way they handled themselves against White’s men, that trust extended to risking their own lives.
She still didn’t trust the military, but Max had to admit she wouldn’t mind having John Sheppard and his team, military or not, at her back.
Feeling more confident, Max strode toward the house. “Can your people stop White’s people before they leave the country with the disc?”
Max noticed the pained look on John’s face. “We’re not exactly working inside proper channels. But if we can figure out where they’re going I’d say it’s a safe bet we can get there before them.”
“Well then I think it’s time we pay Mr. White a visit, possibly return the favor?” Stopping in mid-stride, Max turned around to face John. “You have another one of those aircraft? And are they fast, good for long distances?”
John pursed his lips, and crossed his arms confidently. “A puddlejumper - yeah, I just might have access to another one.” Then John started to rock on his heels, his lips sliding into a slanted, mischievous grin. “Fast oh yeah! And that depends on what you consider long distance.”
---
It didn’t take long for them to establish a plan. Mainly because there was no option other than take the fight to White.
Prior to the meeting she had arranged with White, Max had heard rumors he was heading an expedition to Cambodia. When Otto showed up in White’s place, she knew White was in the process of leaving the country or had already left. It was a matter of plausible deniability. How could she accuse a man of stealing the disc if he was out of the country?
McKay confirmed her suspicions the disc was a key, but it would be useless unless it was used in the correct lock; the location of which was where White was headed.
Inside the craft, Max watched John engaged the puddlejumper to take flight. Everything around her was different - alien. As quickly as the word slipped into her mind Max knew that it fit and was the answer. The puddlejumper, the disc, the instrument Beckett held they were all alien - none of it was from Earth.
Max sought out the other passengers for answers, only Ronon and Lorne met her gaze before they looked away. It was obvious any questions she had would be answered only by their colonel, John Sheppard. Accepting their silence Max glanced at the two scientists; perhaps she could get a few answers from them.
Not that either of them paid any attention to her as they were sitting side by side, busily working on their laptops. From their conversation, they were working to translate symbols in order to pinpoint the exact location of the lock. McKay was loud, his movements animated as he dominated the conversation. However Parrish seemed well aware of and accustomed to McKay’s personality. Although he was quiet in comparison, Parrish held his own, especially when it came to discussing his specialty. Like the clock, the disc and whatever was on the laptop, the symbolic language they were deciphering was more carved etchings of plants - Parrish’s expertise; he was a Botanist she had learned from Lorne when they boarded.
Both Ronon and Lorne were aware and didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact she was gathering as much information as she could. Instead they sat back quietly watching the men in front of them.
Max wasn’t sure when it dawned on her, but it was at some point when both Lorne and Ronon relaxed as they continued to observe the men in front of them. Their facial expressions gave them away as McKay and Parrish droned on, their expressions went from various stages of being annoyed to tender. It was obvious they both held a high level of affection for the two scientists - specifically Lorne for Parrish and Ronon for McKay.
Max didn’t have to wait or wonder for very long before finding out the affection she saw wasn’t one-sided. Overhead she heard John’s voice stating now would be a good time to eat. Neither scientist moved or acknowledged the colonel, but Lorne and Ronon did as they both stood. Ronon physically picked up McKay’s laptop, apparently hit save and closed the laptop while McKay protested the entire time. The man glared at him, and gruffly said, “It’s time to eat.” McKay opened and closed his mouth. Then he blinked in surprise as his stomach answered louder than his uttered, “Oh.”
Lorne returned and held out a backpack for her to take, “Hungry? We have a variety of rations to choose from.”
Nodding her thanks, Max took the bag and started to look through it reading the labels of the MREs.
McKay rambled loudly, “If you see anything with lemon, go ahead and take that.”
Ronon stated, “There’s nothing with lemon.”
“You’re sure, sometimes people for…”
“I never forget.”
Max couldn’t see Ronon’s eyes, but whatever he was conveying to McKay made the man blush and grin like a loon, leaving her no doubt that there was something going on between the two, just as there appeared to be something between McKay and Sheppard.
Perhaps MacKay had what she had with Alec and Logan.
Thinking of Logan, Max lost her appetite and put the backpack on the seat in front of her. From under her lashes she saw Ronon take the bag and direct Rodney to sit down a few seats ahead of her while Lorne and Parrish settled across from her. The pretense of hiding that they were any sort of couple evaporated. Not that they were doing anything overtly, but each couple leaned into the other’s personal space and spoke in hushed tones.
Max turned away, closing her eyes to feign sleep. It hurt to watch them. It drew her mind back to Logan, wondering if he was okay, if she’d have that with Logan again, or to see him with Alec.
Max stilled when she felt someone sit down beside her. It was a good couple of minutes before he spoke, his tone casual just above a whisper. Words he intended only for her. Max easily recognized the voice: Evan Lorne. “Hi…. I just wanted to… listen he’s in good hands, okay. Doc, he’s the best.”
Max turned and met his gaze.
Lorne didn’t waver under her scrutiny.
“Doc’s patched all of us up more than once at one time or another.” Then he inhaled and glanced meaningfully over to Parrish, his voice changing, carrying the weight of his words as he turned back to face her. “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have anyone else but him working on someone I loved.”
Max could see the raw honesty in Lorne’s eyes. Overwhelmed, Max nodded her gratitude and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it. Lorne returned the gesture, offering what comfort he could while she collected herself. Finally she was able to speak. “Thank you, Evan.”
Evan startled, surprised to hear his first name, but by the smile gracing his face, Max could see he was pleased she remembered.
---
At some point Max dozed off only to wake as she felt a shift under her and she wondered if they’d hit a patch of turbulence.
Abruptly she watched as the others stood. “Come on, we’re here.”
Max eyed them, realizing they were serious. Her mind supplied the words, ‘that’s impossible’. Suddenly the hatch door opened and John was standing beside the door. “What’s the hold up?” then looked over at Max.
Patting the wall overhead, an easy grin in place, John stated, “You asked if she was fast.”
Max couldn’t shake her disbelief as she met John’s stare then glanced down at her watch to confirm the time. They had only been in flight just under two hours. There was no way they could be in Cambodia. Even if the Concorde was out of retirement, they’d still be in flight.
Rodney whined, “Could have been here faster if we left the atmosphere and re-entered.”
John glanced over at Rodney. “Did you eat?”
Rodney mumbled, “Yes.” But apparently John wasn’t satisfied and turned to Ronon, “You made him stop and eat right?”
Rodney blinked, but his confusion quickly bled into irritation that John was questioning Ronon after he already answered. More assertively, Rodney replied, “Yes, I ate. And don’t think I didn’t notice turkey was on the list with no turkey in sight.” Then he conceded, “but at least there was no lemon - Ronon checked.”
Max wasn’t sure, but thought she saw the corners of Ronon’s mouth twitch as if he was pleased with Rodney’s answer. Ronon replied, “He’s anxious.” and handed John a power bar.
“Thanks. Yeah, I get that, we all are.”
The smirk gone, John jutted his chin out in thought. “Listen, there’s a lot I can’t officially explain, so how about we go with a, ‘Don’t ask don’t tell’ policy’?
Max didn’t bother to respond although around them a silence descended. John looked over at his team in time to see the confused hurt on their faces.
John rolled his eyes. “Not that side of it. Trust me I don’t want it back either, I like how things are right now.”
Ronon grunted his approval then moved past John, to go out and down the ramp. Following Ronon’s lead they all started to file out of the puddlejumper.
Outside on the ground Max could see they were indeed in Cambodia. Max immediately started to think of various ways she could get Rodney to supply the answers to the growing number of questions she had. When she turned around to say something, it was lost as she watched the puddlejumper disappear under a cloak.
It was unexpected enough that Max was in shock. Long moments passed before she smirked, realizing they each had their secrets. “Fine then, DADT in regards to your technology. I guess I can live with that.” Max added when she passed John, “Just know the policy works both ways.”
“Both ways? What the hell does that mean?"
---
next~
Sweat started to bead across Max’s temple. It had only been ten minutes, but fighting the large robot was giving her one hell of a workout. Its arm extended and fired live rounds. Max weaved then ducked and rolled out of the way. Turning, she took aim, firing then scrambling for cover.
Above her she heard the doorbell. Within seconds Max released the clip and reloaded; ready, she stood and fired. Simon staggered back as each bullet found its target and embedded itself in Simon’s metal chest until the robot slumped where he stood.
Once Max was close enough, avoiding the spray of fried circuits, she opened Simon’s control panel. Max took out a disc then entered a new one and hit enter. The display screen recognized the disc, ‘Max’s party mix4’ and suddenly the room filled with music.
Without looking at the camera, Max shrugged her shoulders as she passed Simon’s large metal frame. “Sorry Logan, gotta blaze.” Engaging the safety, Max securely put her pistols back in the cabinet.
Doors to the playroom slid open as Logan rushed in and made a beeline over to Simon. “Live rounds?”
“He fired first. Was he programmed to stop before he took my head off?”
“Ah... no, but you said you wanted a challenge.”
“True, I did and he was, for five - ten minutes?”
Max ignored Logan’s exaggerated exhale as he busily started to work on Simon; muttering under his breath, his focus completely on Simon. “Don’t worry Simon; I’ll get you fixed up in no time.” Sparks sizzling was Simon’s only response.
Max smiled, leaving Logan to go see who Sketchy let in.
---
Reaching the library, Max saw Sketchy coming toward her with a tray holding a larger pitcher of ice tea and two stacks of glasses. Raising a brow at the number of glasses, she kept her voice low as she inquired “Who’s here?”
“Dr. Rodney McKay and a Dr. David Parrish, they’re accompanied by three others. Two of them, not that they look it, although the shorter one does, but they feel like military, possibly mercenaries?”
Max raised both brows. “Huh, interesting. Then let’s keep an eye on things.” She pulled the door open and moved aside for Sketchy to enter first. She came in behind him eyeing the occupants in the room. The one with dreads was sufficiently taller and muscular judging by the confining jacket he wore and although his companion was shorter, he was compact and broad in the shoulders - his entire demeanor screamed military. Sketchy was right - they both felt like soldiers. Although the one she deducted wasn’t military appeared to be in charge as he stood and faced her. He was easy to smile with a boyish grin, his stance too casual, with hair he had a tad too much gel in if she wasn’t mistaken. He was definitely unconventional in regards to military standards. While the other two, even out of uniform, their postures alone exemplified soldiers.
Sketchy had just finished handing the last guest a glass of iced tea then hesitated to see if she needed anything else. With the slightest nod she dismissed him - knowing Sketchy would inform Logan and they’d watch on the close-circuit camera, in case she needed them.
Sitting down, Max took a long sip and directed her gaze back to the man with a lopsided grin. As she put her glass down, before he could say anything, a man behind him moved, offering his hand. “I’m Doctor McKay, Rodney McKay. I’d like to see the clock you recently discovered.”
Max didn’t have to say anything, as the doctor’s companions collectively gasped their own annoyance. “Way to be subtle, Rodney.”
“What? David and I need to look at the clock if we’re going to have a chance to figure…”
The man with the hair gel put his hand on McKay’s shoulder and pulled the man back. “Rodney, you’re being rude, introductions first.”
His smile widening, he turned his focus back to Max. “Lady Guevara, please accept my apologies. Rodney here, well the truth is Rodney’s a bit eager. Maybe we can start over? Hi, I’m John Sheppard.” He gently patted Rodney’s shoulder, “this here is Rodney. And to his left are Dr. David Parrish, Evan Lorne and Ronon Dex.”
Nodding to the men, Max poured more ice tea into her glass. “And what can I do for you gentlemen?”
“Do? I already said we need to have a look at your clo…”
Sheppard interrupted again. “Rodney…”
“What? We don’t have time to play games. You already said White is probably on his way there.”
At the mention of White, Max leveled her gaze at John Sheppard. “White, as in Ames White?”
“Yeah, though it was only a guess on my part not fact. Rodney’s jumping the gun a bit.”
“Regarding White, I’d say it’s wise to be cautious. The man has no scruples. Now, what does he have to do with my clock?”
John looked forlorn. “We can’t tell you.”
Max snorted, “And you just expect me to just hand over my clock?”
Parrish stepped closer and asked, “Perhaps we can just have a look at it?”
Max turned toward the tall thin man behind McKay who spoke. There was a distinct air of desperation and hope within Parrish’s voice, but it was his added, ‘please’ that swayed her own curiosity. Nodding her acceptance Max moved to retrieve the clock. Smiling, she spoke over her shoulder, “At least one of you has manners.”
Leaving the library, Max said, “I’ll be right back” as she closed the doors behind her.
---
It didn’t take Max long to return to the library. McKay and Parrish were instantly at her side examining the clock, both solely focused on the clock before them.
Parrish sighed in awe. “Beautiful. See there, the carved etchings. An exact duplicate of the hydrangea purodielios which populates and grows wild in sector four.”
“Yes, yes, there’s no doubt the design is ancient.” Rodney leaned in to trace his finger along the carved etchings, “but there’s nothing else to indicate the ancients created it. It’s more decorative…” Abruptly Rodney picked the clock up and turned it around inspecting the back then snapped his fingers. “Hand me a screwdriver.”
“McKay!”
At John’s warning tone, Rodney looked up, clearly annoyed he was being interrupted. “What?”
“Doctor McKay, he’s trying to tell you, you don’t have permission to open it - not without telling me why you’re so fascinated with my clock. You can start by telling me what ancients you’re referring to?”
Max watched McKay visibly pale, as he nervously looked to Sheppard for guidance. It was clear McKay had no idea he’d given away any information until that moment.
Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck and stepped forward. “Listen, we’d like to tell you, but for your own safety I can’t.”
Max eyed the man then asked, “It’s classified then?”
McKay quickly answered with a boost of enthusiasm that she understood. “Yes.”
Max didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “A military operation.”
Sheppard sighed, his exasperation growing. “Rodney not another word!”
“Then I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“What? No! We need to take it apart and fully examine the clock.”
“Again, not unless I know why. At the very least what White has to do with this, and who the ancients are?”
Rodney blinked, flabbergasted he had said so much then silently pleaded she give him another chance. Unswayed Max walked to the door and opened it. “Gentlemen?”
Sheppard licked his bottom lip, staring at the clock and contemplating whether or not to say something in their defense. Instead he caved and inclined his head. Parrish and the other two followed his silent order and walked out leaving him and McKay still standing there.
Sheppard walked over to McKay who was still staring, mesmerized by the clock and softly said, “Come on, Rodney let’s go.”
Rodney didn’t budge, his voice filled with conviction. “But the answer has to be in there. John, if I can just take it apart I’m sure I can....”
“We have to go. We’ll just find another way.” John reached out and clasped Rodney’s shoulder and squeezed. It was a simple comforting gesture with nothing to suggest otherwise, but Max’s instincts told her there was something more intimate between the two men.
Rodney’s exclaimed, “Another way, how…”
“I don’t know, but we’ll discuss it later.” John’s hand was still on Rodney’s shoulder as he guided Rodney out of the library to the front door. Sketchy stood holding the front door open, waiting for them to leave. Sheppard nodded to Sketchy and turned back toward her. “Lady Guevara, thank you for your time.”
With that Sketchy closed the door behind them, Rodney’s rising voice insisting her clock held the answer.
Max held Sketchy’s gaze for a long moment then turned back to the library to go collect the clock. Talking over her shoulder she said, “Have Logan meet me in the lab, let’s see if we can find what McKay thinks is so interesting.”
---
Logan stared at the clock as if it was going to spring open like a jack-in-the-box.
Max couldn’t help but state the obvious. “It’s a clock… and it’s ticking.”
Logan nodded and deadpanned, “Think I got that, a clock good for telling time.” He looked at his own watch. “It’s wrong.”
“That’s not the point, it wasn’t ticking before and no one wound it up. It started ticking on its own right after they left.”
“And they thought it was something more than just a clock?”
“Yup. Open it; let’s see if their instincts have any merit.”
Hesitating, Logan quietly asked, “You think this has something to do with your dad?”
“Yes. It could be why the military is interested and why White is involved; if there’s a chance dad is alive...”
“Max…”
Max heard Logan’s tone, it was a conversation they had many times, one she wasn’t about to rehash now. Thankfully they were interrupted when Sketchy joined them.
“Problem?” Sketchy asked.
Leveling a stare at Logan, Max crossed her arms and answered, “No, let’s get started shall we?”
Logan eyed her promising they’d finish their conversation at a later date then nodded his acceptance to move on.
Relieved, Max watched patiently as Logan started to unscrew the back. Once the backing was taken off, it only displayed the complexity of the clock. There was another backing with over a dozen more screws.
A half hour later, Max paced the room while Sketchy stood at Logan’s back watching.
With total focus Logan worked diligently and slowly took the clock apart, talking out loud as he named and committed to memory each screw, “…thirteen to quadrant three, screw fourteen to quadrant four...”
Losing patience, Sketchy rolled his eyes and sighed, “Oh please…”
Feeling the pressure, Logan heatedly replied, “It’s my system! So I know where they all came from.”
Abruptly Max stopped pacing as insight struck. “It’s camouflage.” She picked up a hammer and before anyone could stop her, she smashed the clock.
In shock, Logan sat back staring at the debris in front of him. “Okay.”
Max’s fingers brushed away the debris to discover a gleaming raised disc. Max picked it up; feeling the material she realized it had a design similar to the one Dr. Parrish recognized as ancient when he first inspected the clock.
Stating the obvious, Max said, “This was what they were looking for.”
Sketchy asked curiously, “What is it?”
“I’ve no idea, but I believe White does.”
Sketchy opened his mouth before thinking about what he was saying. “White, as in your half brother, Ames White?”
Annoyed by the reminder, Max curtly replied, “Yes.” Max raised the disc as she took a closer look. “It seems Mr. White has an interest in this.” Then she shrugged her shoulders. “Since Sheppard isn’t willing to share any further information maybe White will.”
Logan piped up, “You can’t trust White.”
“I don’t, but he might be able to shed some light on what this is. I’ll contact his people to set up a meet.” Max was about to leave and go put the disc in her safe when Logan stopped her.
“Max, just... be careful. White doesn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own.”
Max met Logan’s gaze. Although she couldn’t deny she and Logan were more than friends, more than occasional sex partners, they weren’t exclusive and saw other people - or rather one other person - at different times and took turns sharing. Logan never pushed Max for more than she was willing to give. She smiled, acknowledging his worry. Her eyes softened then she walked back to lean down to give him a light peck on the cheek. “Warning duly noted.”
---
After arranging a meet with White, his response was to send Otto in his stead.
Max didn’t bother to hide that she had the disc or that Sheppard’s group had an interest and wanted to acquire the piece. However it was no secret within her circle that she had problems dealing with secretive government covert ops since her dad disappeared while working on such a project. Appeased with her explanation, Otto promised he’d talk to White later that night quickly assuring her he’d have an offer by morning.
Returning home Max headed upstairs to shower. Afterward she wrapped herself in a towel and walked into the bedroom.
Sketchy, who prided himself on being not only Max’s butler, but also her personal valet, was standing there with an offer of clothes. Max smirked seeing the pile of suggested clothes he’d like her to wear to bed. “Oh… very funny.”
“I'm only making a suggestion - things a lady wears when retiring for the evening.”
“Mm...” and walked past him dropping her towel.
Sketchy sighed. “I’m told a lady is suppose to be modest.”
Max’s smirk stretched into a genuine smile, nodding her agreement, then made her point she was no lady. “Yes, a *lady* should be modest.”
---
The next morning in the game room, standing on the outside of the banister rail of the third floor Max looked down. With the harness secure, a bungee attached to the harness on each side. She was ready.
Max let go of the railing to fall then bounce back up. With small bounces, Max started her routine of aerial ballet exercises.
Twenty minutes into her routine, Max sensed something was wrong - she stopped. Resting back at the railing on the third floor, she grabbed the only weapon within her reach, a knife. Eyeing the area, her hand clutched tightly around the blade’s handle.
Max tried to pinpoint the source of what was disturbing her then glanced up seconds before a group of armed men crashed through the glass ceiling.
Immediately they started firing. Using the bungee to her advantage, Max vaulted into a somersault before she slammed into one man’s back and disarmed him, cutting his rope, dropping him unceremoniously to the ground.
Turning, Max kicked against the wall for momentum, and rebounded. With expert agility she used the bungee to keep moving stopping her attackers by any means necessary, dodging bullets and firing as she flew across the expansive room. Several men lay dead on the floor below another still in his harness midair.
Bullets sliced through one bungee, suddenly leaving her unbalanced with only one remaining. Grabbing the dead man, Max used his body as a shield from a rain of bullets. Suddenly she heard Sketchy yell out “Port!” and angled to the left.
Sketchy’s shot was true as the man fell dead over the railing. Of the dozen men who dropped through the ceiling only few remained. They were after her clock. Sketchy yelled out again, “Go!”
Max ducked and moved as Sketchy fired, and drew cover for her. Max dropped to the second floor and ran toward her safe room.
Once it was in sight, Max saw it was too late. The room was devastated - they had the disc - all she could do was chase after them.
Heading toward the garage, Max caught up to two men bringing up the rear. One she shot and killed; the other engaged her in hand to hand combat and she easily took him down.
In the garage, hidden between cars, Max tried to find an advantage. Around her different car alarms were going off as they tried to stop her. Just before she moved to fire back Max heard Logan calling out her name. Glancing through the broken window of the car beside her, Max saw an earpiece that had been left in the car seat. Max reached in and grabbed it, fitting it into her ear, talking to Logan, “Got you.”
Even through the racket, it was easy for Max to hear the concern behind Logan’s words. “You okay?”
“Besides that they stole my clock…” then she added with a bit more buoyancy. “Found the keys I was looking for.”
“Well if you found your keys...” Logan trailed off; Max could hear him clicking away on his keyboard before starting up again. “Simon’s still down. But my sensors are picking up seven more heat signatures in your vicinity…
“No wait, there’re more moving fast toward you. Get down!” Max ducked and scrambled away. Behind her she heard the sounds of massive gunfire. It took her a second to realize the fire power wasn’t directed at her. Cautiously she looked up and was surprised to see that Sheppard and the other two military men that were with him yesterday had taken cover and were firing at her intruders.
Someone suddenly screamed out, “Grenade, run!”
Without question Max followed the order and ran.
---
Dazed, Max raised a hand to her temple feeling the bump and the reason for her head pounding. Sitting up, Max hung her head between her knees while trying to remember what the hell had happened. Then she remembered she had been attacked in her home. They stole the disc that had been hidden inside the clock.
Max moved to stand, and immediately regretted the action as the room swayed around her.
“Take it easy, you took a hell of a hit.”
Max turned toward the voice knowing before she saw him that it came from John Sheppard. The man was standing there with a look of concern replacing the goofy smile she remembered from yesterday. Funny his hair looked the same, bed head, with the ends sticking out in odd angles. Apparently it was a style he preferred and had perfected.
The only difference today was that John looked like he was military. Whether it was from the almost uniform feel of the black pants and shirt he was wearing, his reactions during the exchange of fire she had witnessed or the casual way he had a PS90 strapped to a sling attached to his tac vest - Max couldn’t say, but like the friends he introduced yesterday, Lorne and Ronon, John Sheppard suddenly screamed military. The man held a confidence despite however unconventional he might appear occasionally, Max could now see why the man was in charge.
Refocusing, Max said, “They stole the disc.”
“Disc?”
“What was inside the clock.”
“I knew it! If you just would have let me examine the clock, we’d still have it…”
John cut Rodney off. “It doesn’t matter now. If White has it that means Michael has it.”
Max looked between the two men and distractedly asked, “Who is Michael?” while searching the room seeking out her friends. “And where are Sketchy and Logan?”
When no one answered, Max stood. Ignoring how the floor swayed under her feet, Max grabbed the arm of the couch and straightened her stance, the adrenaline of fear pumping into her veins. “Where are my men?”
John, place a finger to his ear. “Lorne what’s your status?” It was the first time Max noticed the small earpiece.
Lorne’s voice was amplified loud enough for her to hear. “Well David slowed the bleeding, but it’s not enough. If he’s going to make it we need to get him back to base. Doc needs to see him right away.”
Although she was apprehensive of the answer, Max asked, “Who?”
It was Sketchy who answered over the house intercom. “Max, can you hear me? Logan was hit.”
“Where are you?” Max didn’t wait for Sketchy to answer and started running where she thought Logan would be, in his trailer.
“Logan’s study, with two of the men that visited us yesterday.”
“I’m on my way.”
Behind her at a slower pace Max heard the distinctive sounds of John and Rodney following her; of John talking to Rodney or someone else.
Outside the trailer Max saw the man Lorne that John had been talking to. She slowed going up the short steps. Inside was chaos. Smoke lingered as sparks continued to flicker off of Logan’s damaged computer board.
Max glanced behind the console chair. Logan lay on the floor with a man kneeling by his side. She remembered it was the polite thin man from yesterday. She recalled that he’d been introduced as David Parrish, and Lorne had just said his name, David, again to John. David had slowed the bleeding but it wasn’t enough.
Nervously the man stood with his head bowed, giving Max the clear impression there was nothing else he could do. David stepped away, but not before Max saw the blood on his clothes - Logan’s blood.
Warily Max turned back to Logan and stared wide-eyed at all the blood, and dropped like a stone to her knees. Scared at the thought of losing him she swallowed and gingerly bushed Logan’s hair out of his eyes.
Suddenly a hand rested on her shoulder, as someone knelt down on the other side of Logan. “Excuse me dear, but if you’ll back up just a wee bit… there you go that’s better. I just need to stop the bleeding and read his vitals.”
Max watched as the man in front of her held a small instrument over Logan’s body. When he spoke he had an accent, Scottish if she wasn’t mistaken. “Colonel, I need to get him back to the infirmary now.”
“Alright Doc, Stackhouse will take you back, but keep me updated, okay?”
“Aye. Call my team, they’re on standby; we’ll need a stretcher.”
Confused, Max demanded the doctor’s attention. “What are you talking about? We need to Life Star him the closest hospital as soon as possible.”
“Lady Guevera…”
Max cut John off and snapped, “My name is Max.”
She heard his sigh of relief, when the doctor intervened. “Max, I’m Doctor Carson Beckett. I’m sorry lass, but if we take him to the hospital, his chances of surviving will be less than thirty percent. Then if he does live he’ll have a higher than eighty percent chance that he’ll never walk again.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Aye, I do. This device tells me where the bullet is located and the condition of the nerves around it. There’s no hospital or surgeon here that can remove the bullet without causing more damage.”
Max stared at the device. Immediately she noticed that the design, although different from the design on her disc, was obviously was made by the same culture. She didn’t know these people and didn’t trust the military. How could she put Logan’s fate in their hands? Then she reminded herself that Logan and probably Sketchy, and herself would have died if they hadn’t shown up when they did. Torn, Max stared down at Logan. “Your percentage?”
“Though there’s no guarantee, barring any unforeseen problems I predict he’ll be fine. As for the nerve damage there’s still a chance he’ll be paralyzed.”
“Percentage?”
“I’d say sixty - forty in favor he’ll walk again.”
“He’s going to need a blood transfusion?”
“Aye.”
“Good, then you can have mine.”
“Lass that’s very kind of you, but-”
Max didn’t let him finish. “It’s not out of kindness. My blood is special it’ll help him. You want me to trust you then you’ll have to trust me.” Max held her breath imploring him to hear her.
Reluctantly Beckett nodded, “Alright lass.”
Before he could say anything else, Max spoke up. “Sketchy can you…”
She didn’t have to finish before Sketchy called out as he left. “Going right now!”
Max heard someone ask out loud, “Where’s he going?”
Ignoring the person who asked, her gaze stayed leveled on the doctor. “I store a few pints in case of an emergency.” She watched Beckett’s mouth drop open. Pushing forward before she lost her nerve. “My blood, it has special properties, universal for any blood type.”
Taken aback Beckett tried to protest, “That’s not possible.”
“Trust me it is. You can test it all you want, but you have to use it on Logan. Promise me?”
Suddenly it was a staring contest, a combat of wills, and for the first time Max didn’t feel like she had the upper hand. Finally Beckett gave a curt nod. “After I test it and if it shows no signs it’d hurt him, then aye lass, I’ll use your blood.”
Max let go of the shaky breath she had been holding. Her heart ached; how could she make such a decision? Behind her she heard Sketchy say, “Max, I’m back.” Then suddenly the decision was taken out of her hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll go with him. Make sure they take care of him.” Then he added sternly, “I won’t leave his side.” Though she didn’t turn around, Max was sure Sketchy was doing his best to project a threatening pose, directed at the doctor.
Reluctantly Max nodded and bent down. Under her breath she whispered, “Logan stay strong, it’s not your time to die just yet. I need you, and so does Alec.” Then even lower, her emotions spilling to the fore, she huskily whispered, “We love you, I love you.” Her lips brushed over Logan’s still lips in a brief kiss.
Abruptly she pulled back and straightened. Like she did when her father disappeared, she shoved her emotions down, allowing only her anger to linger.
Outside the trailer Max heard a bustle of people arriving, the doctor’s team. Standing, she moved out of their way. Following Beckett’s orders they secured Logan and moved him onto the stretcher.
Sketchy came over and his hand curled around hers for a brief moment and squeezed. Then he let her go and followed the medical team wheeling the stretcher across the lawn to a strange aircraft sitting there.
Max watched with unease shading to growing curiosity as the team boarded the craft. It was one Max had never seen before. It had no propellers, yet lifted easily and took off faster than any helicopter or airplane she had seen. She turned to John and raised an eyebrow wondering if he’d give her any explanation.
John flushed and averted his eyes.
Instinctively she knew John was disobeying his orders. He didn’t say or acknowledge anything only shrugged his shoulders. However his actions and silence only garnered her respect for the man - he wasn’t a soldier to blindly follow orders. Looking past John, Max eyed his team that remained behind: the two scientists, McKay and Parrish and two soldiers, Ronon and Lorne. None of them appeared uncomfortable with John’s actions. It was obvious they trusted him. And given the way they handled themselves against White’s men, that trust extended to risking their own lives.
She still didn’t trust the military, but Max had to admit she wouldn’t mind having John Sheppard and his team, military or not, at her back.
Feeling more confident, Max strode toward the house. “Can your people stop White’s people before they leave the country with the disc?”
Max noticed the pained look on John’s face. “We’re not exactly working inside proper channels. But if we can figure out where they’re going I’d say it’s a safe bet we can get there before them.”
“Well then I think it’s time we pay Mr. White a visit, possibly return the favor?” Stopping in mid-stride, Max turned around to face John. “You have another one of those aircraft? And are they fast, good for long distances?”
John pursed his lips, and crossed his arms confidently. “A puddlejumper - yeah, I just might have access to another one.” Then John started to rock on his heels, his lips sliding into a slanted, mischievous grin. “Fast oh yeah! And that depends on what you consider long distance.”
---
It didn’t take long for them to establish a plan. Mainly because there was no option other than take the fight to White.
Prior to the meeting she had arranged with White, Max had heard rumors he was heading an expedition to Cambodia. When Otto showed up in White’s place, she knew White was in the process of leaving the country or had already left. It was a matter of plausible deniability. How could she accuse a man of stealing the disc if he was out of the country?
McKay confirmed her suspicions the disc was a key, but it would be useless unless it was used in the correct lock; the location of which was where White was headed.
Inside the craft, Max watched John engaged the puddlejumper to take flight. Everything around her was different - alien. As quickly as the word slipped into her mind Max knew that it fit and was the answer. The puddlejumper, the disc, the instrument Beckett held they were all alien - none of it was from Earth.
Max sought out the other passengers for answers, only Ronon and Lorne met her gaze before they looked away. It was obvious any questions she had would be answered only by their colonel, John Sheppard. Accepting their silence Max glanced at the two scientists; perhaps she could get a few answers from them.
Not that either of them paid any attention to her as they were sitting side by side, busily working on their laptops. From their conversation, they were working to translate symbols in order to pinpoint the exact location of the lock. McKay was loud, his movements animated as he dominated the conversation. However Parrish seemed well aware of and accustomed to McKay’s personality. Although he was quiet in comparison, Parrish held his own, especially when it came to discussing his specialty. Like the clock, the disc and whatever was on the laptop, the symbolic language they were deciphering was more carved etchings of plants - Parrish’s expertise; he was a Botanist she had learned from Lorne when they boarded.
Both Ronon and Lorne were aware and didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact she was gathering as much information as she could. Instead they sat back quietly watching the men in front of them.
Max wasn’t sure when it dawned on her, but it was at some point when both Lorne and Ronon relaxed as they continued to observe the men in front of them. Their facial expressions gave them away as McKay and Parrish droned on, their expressions went from various stages of being annoyed to tender. It was obvious they both held a high level of affection for the two scientists - specifically Lorne for Parrish and Ronon for McKay.
Max didn’t have to wait or wonder for very long before finding out the affection she saw wasn’t one-sided. Overhead she heard John’s voice stating now would be a good time to eat. Neither scientist moved or acknowledged the colonel, but Lorne and Ronon did as they both stood. Ronon physically picked up McKay’s laptop, apparently hit save and closed the laptop while McKay protested the entire time. The man glared at him, and gruffly said, “It’s time to eat.” McKay opened and closed his mouth. Then he blinked in surprise as his stomach answered louder than his uttered, “Oh.”
Lorne returned and held out a backpack for her to take, “Hungry? We have a variety of rations to choose from.”
Nodding her thanks, Max took the bag and started to look through it reading the labels of the MREs.
McKay rambled loudly, “If you see anything with lemon, go ahead and take that.”
Ronon stated, “There’s nothing with lemon.”
“You’re sure, sometimes people for…”
“I never forget.”
Max couldn’t see Ronon’s eyes, but whatever he was conveying to McKay made the man blush and grin like a loon, leaving her no doubt that there was something going on between the two, just as there appeared to be something between McKay and Sheppard.
Perhaps MacKay had what she had with Alec and Logan.
Thinking of Logan, Max lost her appetite and put the backpack on the seat in front of her. From under her lashes she saw Ronon take the bag and direct Rodney to sit down a few seats ahead of her while Lorne and Parrish settled across from her. The pretense of hiding that they were any sort of couple evaporated. Not that they were doing anything overtly, but each couple leaned into the other’s personal space and spoke in hushed tones.
Max turned away, closing her eyes to feign sleep. It hurt to watch them. It drew her mind back to Logan, wondering if he was okay, if she’d have that with Logan again, or to see him with Alec.
Max stilled when she felt someone sit down beside her. It was a good couple of minutes before he spoke, his tone casual just above a whisper. Words he intended only for her. Max easily recognized the voice: Evan Lorne. “Hi…. I just wanted to… listen he’s in good hands, okay. Doc, he’s the best.”
Max turned and met his gaze.
Lorne didn’t waver under her scrutiny.
“Doc’s patched all of us up more than once at one time or another.” Then he inhaled and glanced meaningfully over to Parrish, his voice changing, carrying the weight of his words as he turned back to face her. “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have anyone else but him working on someone I loved.”
Max could see the raw honesty in Lorne’s eyes. Overwhelmed, Max nodded her gratitude and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it. Lorne returned the gesture, offering what comfort he could while she collected herself. Finally she was able to speak. “Thank you, Evan.”
Evan startled, surprised to hear his first name, but by the smile gracing his face, Max could see he was pleased she remembered.
---
At some point Max dozed off only to wake as she felt a shift under her and she wondered if they’d hit a patch of turbulence.
Abruptly she watched as the others stood. “Come on, we’re here.”
Max eyed them, realizing they were serious. Her mind supplied the words, ‘that’s impossible’. Suddenly the hatch door opened and John was standing beside the door. “What’s the hold up?” then looked over at Max.
Patting the wall overhead, an easy grin in place, John stated, “You asked if she was fast.”
Max couldn’t shake her disbelief as she met John’s stare then glanced down at her watch to confirm the time. They had only been in flight just under two hours. There was no way they could be in Cambodia. Even if the Concorde was out of retirement, they’d still be in flight.
Rodney whined, “Could have been here faster if we left the atmosphere and re-entered.”
John glanced over at Rodney. “Did you eat?”
Rodney mumbled, “Yes.” But apparently John wasn’t satisfied and turned to Ronon, “You made him stop and eat right?”
Rodney blinked, but his confusion quickly bled into irritation that John was questioning Ronon after he already answered. More assertively, Rodney replied, “Yes, I ate. And don’t think I didn’t notice turkey was on the list with no turkey in sight.” Then he conceded, “but at least there was no lemon - Ronon checked.”
Max wasn’t sure, but thought she saw the corners of Ronon’s mouth twitch as if he was pleased with Rodney’s answer. Ronon replied, “He’s anxious.” and handed John a power bar.
“Thanks. Yeah, I get that, we all are.”
The smirk gone, John jutted his chin out in thought. “Listen, there’s a lot I can’t officially explain, so how about we go with a, ‘Don’t ask don’t tell’ policy’?
Max didn’t bother to respond although around them a silence descended. John looked over at his team in time to see the confused hurt on their faces.
John rolled his eyes. “Not that side of it. Trust me I don’t want it back either, I like how things are right now.”
Ronon grunted his approval then moved past John, to go out and down the ramp. Following Ronon’s lead they all started to file out of the puddlejumper.
Outside on the ground Max could see they were indeed in Cambodia. Max immediately started to think of various ways she could get Rodney to supply the answers to the growing number of questions she had. When she turned around to say something, it was lost as she watched the puddlejumper disappear under a cloak.
It was unexpected enough that Max was in shock. Long moments passed before she smirked, realizing they each had their secrets. “Fine then, DADT in regards to your technology. I guess I can live with that.” Max added when she passed John, “Just know the policy works both ways.”
“Both ways? What the hell does that mean?"
---
next~