TEAM FINE: wild goose chase, "In Pursuit of Undomesticated Migratory Aquatic Fowl"
Title: In Pursuit of Undomesticated Migratory Aquatic Fowl
Author: inu_spockya
Team: Fine
Prompt: wild goose chase
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Warnings: None except for lots of cussing. Don't blame me, blame Rodney and the Marines!
Word count: 4391
Summary: It started as just an ordinary market run to the mainland. Then John got the idea to make it a barbecue as well. So far, so good; proper equipment and supplies, check. Jumper signed out til graveyard shift, check. And then, Rodney found a new energy source, one that everyone else had missed, and yeah.That happened...
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“There it is,” Rodney pointed at the HUD. John watched him make fingerprints on the Jumper's windshield and winced, but said nothing. Not like it mattered; the Jumper showed him everything sharply-focused whether the windshield was dirty or clean. Ancient tech was pretty awesome like that.
He glanced off to his right, enjoying the Rodney McKay show rather more than usual - and usually he enjoyed McKay a lot. Rodney was far and away the least boring person John Sheppard had ever met in his life. And for reasons John still didn't understand, Rodney enjoyed him just as much, so, yeah. That happened...
John blinked and shook his head, drawn to the controls suddenly. A quick glance around the dash didn't show him anything alarming, but the hair on the back of his neck prickled. There was nothing showing on scan.
“Huh. That's weird.” Rodney's hands danced over his laptop.
“What's weird, Rodney? You know I hate it when you just say 'Huh.' I never know if you mean, huh, that's interesting, or holy fuck, we're all gonna die!” John firmly ignored the way his own pulse was now speeding up. Pics, or it didn't happen, bitch, he thought to himself. If he just ignored impending trouble hard enough...
Rodney frowned. Call it a #4 on the McKay Frown scale. “Oh, it's just... there's an energy reading I haven't seen before, even though we've flown through here more than once, ferrying Athosian hunting parties.”
“Thought it looked familiar. So, where is this new energy reading? And how close is it to the New Moon market gathering? I want steak for supper!” John flicked a glance to the side again, watching McKay's hands. Those hands... those hands could do things to his central nervous system John couldn't even begin to describe - but he sure as hell enjoyed them.
“It's almost in the same direction, about 5 kilometers further out. Want to check it out? We have time; Teyla told me the market will stay open for another four days yet.”
“Yeah - but will they still have tormack?” The stuff looked pretty weird, being purple and all - but it tasted pretty damn fine chopped up and fried like hash browns. Or mashed. Or roasted. Or made into mush and sweetened with not-honey. Damn. John was making himself hungry, and they weren't even close to lunchtime yet, much less supper.
Rodney's hands stilled suddenly. “Point, Sheppard. You definitely have a point there.” He looked down, checking the readings one more time. “Well, when you put it like that - these readings are holding rock steady, and I already have enough data to track the source now. Whatever's causing this hasn't moved a bit since I first spotted it.”
“So, market first, then energy source?”
“Works for me!”
*******
They made it in and out of the market in fairly short order, maybe an hour, not much more than that. Teyla herself had cleared their trade goods, and neither cared much for shopping as a recreational activity, so that worked out. And now they had about forty kilos of Lantea's version of venison in insulated coolers in the cargo area, plus a dozen fat sacks of tormack, which meant tonight's dinner was, in John's words, “gonna be fucking awesome!!” He smacked Rodney's shoulder by way of punctuation. That got him a snarl, a punch in the shoulder, and the #3 McKay Imminent Death Glare.
Seriously. John and Ronon had a whole catalogue of the various different McKay Death Glares, the McKay Frown Scale, all that stuff. Important information; asses, theirs, for the saving of.
That little bit of juvenilia had been well worth it, though, to see Rodney's face turn that particular shade of red. John chewed on the inside of his lip as he tried not to burst out laughing. He made it almost five whole minutes before he dissolved into a gigglepuddle in the Jumper's pilot seat. Rodney just huffed, and kept his gaze firmly glued to the HUD, focused on the energy source he was tracking.
Eventually, John ran out of giggles and leaned back in his chair, wiping his eyes and sighing happily. It wasn't every day he managed to wind Rodney up to that extent; such occasions were to be treasured and enjoyed. He stayed like that for the next few minutes, just enjoying the day, and the company. It wasn't very often the two of them could get away for even part of a day; usually there was just too much going on for either one to leave for purely recreational purposes, much less both. They had the Jumper until tonight, despite the fact that the New Moon market fair was only an hour or so away from the city.
Rodney was busy studiously ignoring him now, scowling up at the HUD, then down at his precious laptop, as if it was letting him down grievously...
John didn't mind. It was all part of the show. Every day was different, in McKay World.
Finally, Rodney turned to face him, looking more interested now than annoyed. “Okay, then... we should be coming up on that reading any time now.”
John pulled his boots off the center console and sat back upright. He frowned at the HUD for a moment. “The top end of that canyon, there, is that what we're looking for?”
“Right around there, yes. I'll know more once I get outside.”
Huh. Not bad; for once they could set down within easy walking distance of their goal. Now that didn't happen every day.
*******
“Easy, easy... I don't understand, you should be right on top of it now!”
John turned himself around, eying their surroundings uneasily. He wished Rodney hadn't said that. It never ended well...
CRACK!
...and the ground fell out from under him, dropping him into the middle of a cascade of rocks, dirt, tree roots, clumps of grass, and pissed-off bugs.
There just had to be bugs. John hated bugs. He hated missions involving bugs. Any kind of bugs, but especially the big, metal-flake green, blue, and red, Pegasus galaxy bugs, the ones that liked to go running up pant legs or under a guy's shirt, not to even mention the fucking neck-chewing Iratus fucking bugs... “Hey,” he told himself, “Forget that bullshit. Time to get the fuck out of here.” He pulled the neck of his black T-shirt up to cover his nose and mouth; no point inhaling even more dirt.
“Hey, Sheppard! John!! You hear me?” Rodney sounded muffled. John wondered just how deep he'd fallen. The air was still thick with dust and schmutz; he couldn't see clearly enough to even guess.
On the bright side, nothing seemed to be hurting too badly, it didn't smell of mold or crude oil down here, and he hadn't broken anything, as far as he could tell. So, there was that. Seriously, as weird shit went, on the Pegasus scale, this barely registered at all. He felt around for something solid enough to pull himself upright, then tilted his head back to where he could just barely see daylight, of a sort.
“Yeah, I hear ya, Rodney. Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I found a hole in the ground!” John smirked, as he imagined the look on Rodney's face.
“Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
“Well, yeah, it kind of is. Anyhow, do you still show that energy reading? Might as well check it out, since I'm already down here.” John perched on a rock long enough to lean forward and shake most of the dust and crap out of his hair and off the back of his neck. Just for good measure, he shook out his shirt, then tucked it back in. Yeah, that definitely felt better.
“Huh. Good point... Gimme a minute.” The slide was settling down, now; he could even hear Rodney's rapidfire typing. Hopefully the rest of the dust would settle too - sooner better than later. “Okay, I'm showing a reading about 2 meters in front of you, around waist height, if nothing's distorting these readouts.”
“Any idea what I'm looking for?” John shaded his eyes, but saw nothing that stood out amid the dirt and rocks and swirling, billowing dust.
“No, I'm sorry, I left my scrying stone at home!” The snark factor was climbing nicely now.
John grinned. Point for him. “Well, that's unfortunate.” Right then he felt... something. Nothing familiar, but it tasted Ancient. Which yeah, made no sense at all-- except it did. What are you? Moving carefully, hoping not to set off any more slides, he made his way across the small chamber he'd fallen into. Nothing visible yet, nor could he hear anything except Rodney, and the slowly settling dirt. But there was definitely something there. What are you, and where are you hiding? There was something... not exactly a chirp, in fact he didn't think, now, that it was a sound at all. But he could feel? Taste? Smell it? All of these, and none. He was almost there, now. He hopped onto a pretty big rockpile - good thing he hadn't landed underneath that, for damned sure - then knelt on the highest point and reached out with one arm, fingers outstretched. Dirt, rock, more dirt... tink!
“Huh. There you are.” He leaned a bit further out, and very carefully dug around the thing he'd found. The dirt was still loose, so it wasn't hard to move. Whatever “it” was, it had sounded like glass, which was interesting all by itself. Damned tough glass, if that's what it was; it hadn't been broken.
He was pretty sure it wasn't a ZPM, Rodney's instruments would have detected that - still, it could be damn near anything. The Ancients had been crazy bastards on their good days. And their bad days, well - Doranda came to mind...
Tink! “Gotcha. Okay, now what are you?” Very carefully, John poked and pried until he pulled it completely free. He cradled it carefully in one hand, while he climbed back down to somewhat steadier footing. Most of the dust had settled now, leaving a nice big pool of sunlight in the center of the cavern. John perched on one of the larger rocks, relieved to feel it stay motionless, and peered down at his prize.
A small, eight-sided container in the familiar Ancient stained-glass style, purple and blue, this time. Well, that was new and different. It was about one handspan across, surprisingly heavy, still cool from the earth John had dug it out of. And it was glowing, faintly, now that he had it dusted off. Hopefully not glowing in a bad way.
Hopefully...
“Well? Did you find it?”
“I found something. Looks like a little glass box, except for the whole, landslide-didn't-break-it thing. It's kind of cool-looking; it's all purple and blue.”
“Cool-looking? Wow. Dazzling vocabulary there, Colonel!” Sound of velcro, then rustling noises. “Okay, hang on a second.” More rustling and some clanking noises, and then a coil of rope slithered down into the hole, coiling its last few feet right next to John's boots. John sat up straighter and gave it a good tug - solid. Didn't budge. Rodney's getting better at this stuff. “Can you climb out?”
“Yep. Be right up. I see you remembered the rope!” Moving carefully, John zipped his tac vest up most of the way, wrapped the little box in his favourite black bandana for luck, and tucked it into the vest. Then he wrapped the rope around arms and legs, and started climbing.
The only really hard part was getting over the edge at the top without falling or dropping the box. But he did it, and was bemused to find it easier than it had ever been before.
Even though Carson had pronounced him Officially Debugged, John had noticed that ever since the Great Retrovirus Fiasco, he had a little more of everything physical; a bit more strength, a bit more speed, quicker reflexes. Fortunately, though, no more compulsion to go skittering up the walls like a cockroach. Which was good, since he hated cockroaches, with the fire of a thousand nukes.
Another nice thing about living in Atlantis - no fucking roaches. They'd seen them on some of the other worlds, but never a one inside the city, or even on the Jumpers. Suited John just fine, please and thankya.
“So, let's see it! What did you find?” Rodney was practically bouncing, he was so eager to get a look. John just smirked, reached into his vest, then handed over the still-wrapped box. Rodney already had his scanner out before he even got it unwrapped, and John shook more dirt out of his hair and off his uniform, then stood back to enjoy the show some more, smiling wider when the first thing Rodney did was rush back into the Jumper and sit down. Given that the pilot's chair was way more comfortable than the ground, John thought that was a brilliant idea, and quickly resumed his own station. Neither mentioned the cave-in again. Shit like that just happened in the Pegasus Galaxy; it was the safe way to bet, pretty much every time.
As he leaned back, sprawling comfortably, he noticed that Rodney had coiled up the rope and brought it in with him. We'll make a soldier of you yet, John thought, grinning.
“So tell me, did it light up brightly when you first touched it?” Rodney turned it end over end, throwing his scanner results up on the HUD for ease of reading.
“You know, it didn't.” Which was... odd. Most Ancient tech lit up like the 4th of July when John first touched it. He hadn't noticed at the time, being preoccupied just then with getting out of the hole he'd fallen into. Without taking a step. Again.
Rodney frowned. “But it still has some remaining power, enough to make that little glow, at least. That's pretty weird.” He scanned it some more, mumbling. “Hope it isn't-- well, hmm, it, ah, doesn't seem to be radioactive. Yet.”
John echoed Rodney's eye-roll. “It glows, though - so many times that doesn't end well.”
“I'm not thrilled, myself. So the question then is, why doesn't it light up? Is this almost drained, or is it locked, biometrically or otherwise?” Just the tip of Rodney's tongue showed as he glared at the so-far inoffensive glass box. He'd already tried opening it, without success. None of the various scans he'd done so far had told him anything useful.
“I don't know. Want me to try initializing it?”
“Not yet. Soon. I'll let you know.” Rodney looked up from his scanner momentarily. “What did we bring for supper, or were you figuring to go back in time for supper?”
“Heh. No, we don't have to be back until 2300. I figured a little peace and quiet would be good. No-one can pester us out here. Supper? I was thinking, how does beefalo steak sound?”
“Tasty - though how you're going to cook it out here, I don't know.”
“That's the easy part. I borrowed Teyla's camp stove, so we can keep warm and cook dinner, all at the same time.”
It was Rodney's turn to smirk. Now this he had to see. Being Canadian, not to mention literally getting posted to Siberia a few years back, Rodney knew all the tricks for messing with cantankerous wood stoves - and every woodstove was cantankerous. And evil. Some just hid it better. The odds of John, on the other hand, knowing what to do with one... Not likely. Pity Radek isn't here to bet with, hah!
John scowled. “What are you smirking at now?”
“That's for me to know, and you to find out. Now, I believe mention was made of steak?”
John rolled his eyes again. Rodney won the snark-off damn near every time. It was embarrassing, dammit. Ronon laughed his big, furry ass off every time he saw it happen.
Being hungry, though, he lost no time getting Teyla's campstove out of the back of the Jumper and setting it up. For the first time all day, he felt stiff and sore. Must be from that fall. He scowled, and kept moving, his muscles taking their own sweet time to loosen up. Fortunately, it didn't take him too long to find fuel; it was summer-warm on this part of the mainland right now, and there was plenty of dry downed wood. Plus, there was an axe in the Jumper's emergency kit. John set to with a will.
Damn! Lucky Rodney didn't see him bounce the axehead off his boot. Yay, steeltoes. Dave and his dad would have ridden him for weeks about that one. It had been too long since he'd done this. Still, Teyla's stove was a pretty basic model, no fancy bells and whistles, just your basic cookstove.
John worked diligently at his woodpile until he had, he hoped, enough for an evening.
The whole time he was doing that, Rodney kept typing, and poking at the artifact, and consulting his scanner. And John-watching. But he could be very sly when he really wanted to, and good at seeming to be interested in something else. Every time John looked over at him, Rodney was looking down at his laptop, or at the artifact, or at the Jumper's HUD, where he'd already posted all kinds of strange stuff.
Initial setup on the stove wasn't hard, just a matter of finding a patch of bare earth, or sand. Even gravel would work. That part was easy; so was attaching the chimney, which stood up past even Ronon's height. The ashcatcher had already been emptied, and John had collected several handsful of bark, dried grass, not-pine needles, seed cones, chopping block scraps - miscellaneous burnable crap. The good part was, now he could almost move normally; the work had warmed his muscles up and made him feel a lot better.
It was the actual fire itself that turned out to be the hard part. The first batch of tinder flamed up and vanished so quickly, none of the wood ignited. The second smouldered uneasily, smoke sneaking out the top of the stove and the joins in the chimney. He rattled the damper around and carefully relaid the kindling, and found some small branches/heavy twigs to be the middle of the fire pile. Bigger branches next. Some were surprisingly heavy, although they all seemed dry enough. He took more time and built it up until the stovetop was good and hot, the door was fully shut, and the chimney was drawing right. The skill came back to him slowly as he worked, remembering summers at the lake house, when his mother had still been alive...
Rodney had actually just put his scanner down when John decided it was officially a Fire. He had just turned to tell him so, when a loud BANG made both men dive for the ground. Duck first, live to ask questions later, always sound practice in the Pegasus galaxy. Nothing more exploded, and finally both of them stood up, brushing grass and dirt off one another's uniforms. It was Rodney that noticed it first.
“Holy crap. She's going to kill you, John. She's gonna kill you dead for this.”
Reluctantly, John followed Rodney's gaze... “Aw, you have got to be kidding me!” John pointed at the corner of the stove, and the fire that was now visible through a gaping crack there. “Aw, man. Teyla is gonna kill me.” The chimney was torn wide open at the bottom, jaggedly, and one corner of the stovebox now had a visible gap, through which the remains of the fire still shone fitfully. “The chimney might be fixable. But the woodbox - I don't know.”
Rodney whistled, “Yeah, she really might kill you, for that.” He pointed to the gaping hole, then the chimney. “You know, I don't think that's really safe to cook on. Let's not get carbon monoxide poisoning, and say we did...”
“But what are we going to eat?” John might have pouted, just the tiniest bit. Normally he just didn't get all that hungry. But after climbing out of that cave, chopping a bunch of wood - oh, and let's not forget, blowing up Teyla's camp stove... I am so dead! ...he'd worked up quite an appetite. Dammit, his belly had been all set for that beefalo steak!
Rodney grinned. “As it happens, my pyrotechnically-inclined friend, we have MREs in the Jumper - turkey pot pie for you, and mac n' cheese for me. Chocolate brownies for afters.”
John gaped, impressed where just a few minutes ago, he'd have been annoyed by the smugness. He still couldn't figure how he'd managed to blow up Teyla's stove - though now that he thought about it, he wasn't entirely sure he'd checked that chimney, for bird's nests or some such. Or maybe he'd missed some pitchwood? He might have missed something. Hell, he must have missed something, the damned thing exploded!
“You are a genius, Rodney. Nice save!” Mmm, pot pie...
“Thank you,” Rodney crowed, in that ha-ha, I win sing-song tone he and Zelenka always used. John pretended to scowl, all the while gloating over his MRE - the turkey pot pie was his favourite, one that he didn't get to eat very often. Lots of people liked those; they were always the first to vanish.
“Score! Thanks.” John sketched a bare-bones salute.
Rodney looked up from his own MRE and grinned. “Turns out Corporal Yates, in the mess, is a big Dr. Who fan. And I just happen to have the latest season, so voila! Dinner is saved!”
“Geek.” John stuck his tongue out.
“Nerd.” Rodney made the manga face: eyelid pulled down, tongue sticking out.
“Otaku!” Both of them yelled that in unison, then cracked up. Rodney finished his first MRE and grabbed a second one. John just finished his first. He never ate a lot; hell, if it hadn't been chocolate brownie, Rodney would already have conned his desert out of him. Chocolate brownie, though, was Serious Business. Men had died for less than that.
John patted his stomach happily, then picked up his brownie. “I have to admit it, Rodney; sometimes MREs have their moments.”
“Absolutely! I'll have you know, unless it's very well cooked, fresh food can be hazardous, not to mention, vastly overrated. I mean, hello? We invented preservatives for a reason!”
John laughed til he fell over sideways and lay on the ground, still wheezing and giggling. Yeah. Just like Ancient technology, Rodney was cool like that.
*******
It was going to be another beautiful day, John could tell. He'd just finished his morning run and shower, and here they had fresh bacon and eggs this morning. Made of win! He took his tray out to the team's usual table, where Ronon was already laying waste to a heavily-laden tray of his own.
No matter how quickly he got back to his quarters and showered after their run, Ronon always beat him to the chow line. Clean, too - he wasn't cheating. John had to respect that level of dedication. In a hypothetical munch-off between Rodney and Ronon, he couldn't even guess which one would win. Let's just say, he made damn sure never to get between either man and the nearest food.
“So, how'd your market run go yesterday?”
“Ah, it was okay. Found lots of meat and tormack, fell in a hole. McKay's got a new toy. The usual.”
“Huh.” One big reason John and Ronon got along so well. Neither had a lot to say, most of the time.
A rising commotion in the mess hall turned out to be Rodney and Radek, arguing vociferously as they carried their trays outside.
“Admit it, Rodney. You are wrong, you must pay up!”
“I'll admit no such thing, Dr. Weasel!” Somehow both men managed to sit down without spilling their trays, even though neither looked away from their argument.
“Weasel? You are cheapskate, Rodney McKay! Whole lab heard you say it, and you were wrong, so pay up!”
“Now children, no fighting at the breakfast table,” John drawled, earning himself twin scorching glares. “What are you fighting about this time?”
“Hah! Go ahead, Rodney, tell him.”
Rodney scowled. John just grinned at both of them, well aware that would piss off Rodney even more. A guy had to take his entertainment where he could find it, was John's philosophy.
Finally, Rodney relented. “That stupid box you found yesterday, Colonel.” He clammed up, scowling even more fiercely now. Oops. So much for tonight. Ah, well - with John's luck, there'd just be some stupid emergency tonight anyway.
“What about the box, Rodney?” In for a penny, in for a pound...
Radek laughed, earning his very own McKay Death Glare. “It is Ancient version of... little girl's music box. Plays music, has jewelry and crystals inside. Takes ATA gene and puzzle-solving skills to open.”
“Stupid puzzle!” Rodney snarled. No surprise there - Rodney was pretty damned good at solving puzzles, and never took defeat nobly.
“What's stupid about it?” There really weren't many puzzles Rodney couldn't solve, after all.
“The puzzle was based on philosophy, of all the idiotic things. How does that test a child's skills in any useful way?”
“Yes, and did not help matter that Dr. Simone solved it, yes?” Radek couldn't stop grinning.
Rodney huffed. “Idiot woman - I could have gotten another astrophysicist, but no, somebody at the SGC just had to send us a philosopher. Well, I wish her much luck with it. Not.”
“So much for Great Discovery, hmm? Chased wild goose, caught chicken instead.”
Both Ronon and John cracked up at that. The look on Rodney's face, as he handed over three of his treasured chocolate power bars to the evilly smirking Czech, oh, man - if John could bottle that, he could use it to clear out blocked thrusters, easily. It made up, just a little, for the fact that their whole expedition after the market yesterday had been a giant waste of time.
Now, if only he could find Teyla a new stove before she beat him to death in the gym... A guy could dream, right?
**
Poll
Author: inu_spockya
Team: Fine
Prompt: wild goose chase
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Warnings: None except for lots of cussing. Don't blame me, blame Rodney and the Marines!
Word count: 4391
Summary: It started as just an ordinary market run to the mainland. Then John got the idea to make it a barbecue as well. So far, so good; proper equipment and supplies, check. Jumper signed out til graveyard shift, check. And then, Rodney found a new energy source, one that everyone else had missed, and yeah.That happened...
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
“There it is,” Rodney pointed at the HUD. John watched him make fingerprints on the Jumper's windshield and winced, but said nothing. Not like it mattered; the Jumper showed him everything sharply-focused whether the windshield was dirty or clean. Ancient tech was pretty awesome like that.
He glanced off to his right, enjoying the Rodney McKay show rather more than usual - and usually he enjoyed McKay a lot. Rodney was far and away the least boring person John Sheppard had ever met in his life. And for reasons John still didn't understand, Rodney enjoyed him just as much, so, yeah. That happened...
John blinked and shook his head, drawn to the controls suddenly. A quick glance around the dash didn't show him anything alarming, but the hair on the back of his neck prickled. There was nothing showing on scan.
“Huh. That's weird.” Rodney's hands danced over his laptop.
“What's weird, Rodney? You know I hate it when you just say 'Huh.' I never know if you mean, huh, that's interesting, or holy fuck, we're all gonna die!” John firmly ignored the way his own pulse was now speeding up. Pics, or it didn't happen, bitch, he thought to himself. If he just ignored impending trouble hard enough...
Rodney frowned. Call it a #4 on the McKay Frown scale. “Oh, it's just... there's an energy reading I haven't seen before, even though we've flown through here more than once, ferrying Athosian hunting parties.”
“Thought it looked familiar. So, where is this new energy reading? And how close is it to the New Moon market gathering? I want steak for supper!” John flicked a glance to the side again, watching McKay's hands. Those hands... those hands could do things to his central nervous system John couldn't even begin to describe - but he sure as hell enjoyed them.
“It's almost in the same direction, about 5 kilometers further out. Want to check it out? We have time; Teyla told me the market will stay open for another four days yet.”
“Yeah - but will they still have tormack?” The stuff looked pretty weird, being purple and all - but it tasted pretty damn fine chopped up and fried like hash browns. Or mashed. Or roasted. Or made into mush and sweetened with not-honey. Damn. John was making himself hungry, and they weren't even close to lunchtime yet, much less supper.
Rodney's hands stilled suddenly. “Point, Sheppard. You definitely have a point there.” He looked down, checking the readings one more time. “Well, when you put it like that - these readings are holding rock steady, and I already have enough data to track the source now. Whatever's causing this hasn't moved a bit since I first spotted it.”
“So, market first, then energy source?”
“Works for me!”
*******
They made it in and out of the market in fairly short order, maybe an hour, not much more than that. Teyla herself had cleared their trade goods, and neither cared much for shopping as a recreational activity, so that worked out. And now they had about forty kilos of Lantea's version of venison in insulated coolers in the cargo area, plus a dozen fat sacks of tormack, which meant tonight's dinner was, in John's words, “gonna be fucking awesome!!” He smacked Rodney's shoulder by way of punctuation. That got him a snarl, a punch in the shoulder, and the #3 McKay Imminent Death Glare.
Seriously. John and Ronon had a whole catalogue of the various different McKay Death Glares, the McKay Frown Scale, all that stuff. Important information; asses, theirs, for the saving of.
That little bit of juvenilia had been well worth it, though, to see Rodney's face turn that particular shade of red. John chewed on the inside of his lip as he tried not to burst out laughing. He made it almost five whole minutes before he dissolved into a gigglepuddle in the Jumper's pilot seat. Rodney just huffed, and kept his gaze firmly glued to the HUD, focused on the energy source he was tracking.
Eventually, John ran out of giggles and leaned back in his chair, wiping his eyes and sighing happily. It wasn't every day he managed to wind Rodney up to that extent; such occasions were to be treasured and enjoyed. He stayed like that for the next few minutes, just enjoying the day, and the company. It wasn't very often the two of them could get away for even part of a day; usually there was just too much going on for either one to leave for purely recreational purposes, much less both. They had the Jumper until tonight, despite the fact that the New Moon market fair was only an hour or so away from the city.
Rodney was busy studiously ignoring him now, scowling up at the HUD, then down at his precious laptop, as if it was letting him down grievously...
John didn't mind. It was all part of the show. Every day was different, in McKay World.
Finally, Rodney turned to face him, looking more interested now than annoyed. “Okay, then... we should be coming up on that reading any time now.”
John pulled his boots off the center console and sat back upright. He frowned at the HUD for a moment. “The top end of that canyon, there, is that what we're looking for?”
“Right around there, yes. I'll know more once I get outside.”
Huh. Not bad; for once they could set down within easy walking distance of their goal. Now that didn't happen every day.
*******
“Easy, easy... I don't understand, you should be right on top of it now!”
John turned himself around, eying their surroundings uneasily. He wished Rodney hadn't said that. It never ended well...
CRACK!
...and the ground fell out from under him, dropping him into the middle of a cascade of rocks, dirt, tree roots, clumps of grass, and pissed-off bugs.
There just had to be bugs. John hated bugs. He hated missions involving bugs. Any kind of bugs, but especially the big, metal-flake green, blue, and red, Pegasus galaxy bugs, the ones that liked to go running up pant legs or under a guy's shirt, not to even mention the fucking neck-chewing Iratus fucking bugs... “Hey,” he told himself, “Forget that bullshit. Time to get the fuck out of here.” He pulled the neck of his black T-shirt up to cover his nose and mouth; no point inhaling even more dirt.
“Hey, Sheppard! John!! You hear me?” Rodney sounded muffled. John wondered just how deep he'd fallen. The air was still thick with dust and schmutz; he couldn't see clearly enough to even guess.
On the bright side, nothing seemed to be hurting too badly, it didn't smell of mold or crude oil down here, and he hadn't broken anything, as far as he could tell. So, there was that. Seriously, as weird shit went, on the Pegasus scale, this barely registered at all. He felt around for something solid enough to pull himself upright, then tilted his head back to where he could just barely see daylight, of a sort.
“Yeah, I hear ya, Rodney. Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I found a hole in the ground!” John smirked, as he imagined the look on Rodney's face.
“Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
“Well, yeah, it kind of is. Anyhow, do you still show that energy reading? Might as well check it out, since I'm already down here.” John perched on a rock long enough to lean forward and shake most of the dust and crap out of his hair and off the back of his neck. Just for good measure, he shook out his shirt, then tucked it back in. Yeah, that definitely felt better.
“Huh. Good point... Gimme a minute.” The slide was settling down, now; he could even hear Rodney's rapidfire typing. Hopefully the rest of the dust would settle too - sooner better than later. “Okay, I'm showing a reading about 2 meters in front of you, around waist height, if nothing's distorting these readouts.”
“Any idea what I'm looking for?” John shaded his eyes, but saw nothing that stood out amid the dirt and rocks and swirling, billowing dust.
“No, I'm sorry, I left my scrying stone at home!” The snark factor was climbing nicely now.
John grinned. Point for him. “Well, that's unfortunate.” Right then he felt... something. Nothing familiar, but it tasted Ancient. Which yeah, made no sense at all-- except it did. What are you? Moving carefully, hoping not to set off any more slides, he made his way across the small chamber he'd fallen into. Nothing visible yet, nor could he hear anything except Rodney, and the slowly settling dirt. But there was definitely something there. What are you, and where are you hiding? There was something... not exactly a chirp, in fact he didn't think, now, that it was a sound at all. But he could feel? Taste? Smell it? All of these, and none. He was almost there, now. He hopped onto a pretty big rockpile - good thing he hadn't landed underneath that, for damned sure - then knelt on the highest point and reached out with one arm, fingers outstretched. Dirt, rock, more dirt... tink!
“Huh. There you are.” He leaned a bit further out, and very carefully dug around the thing he'd found. The dirt was still loose, so it wasn't hard to move. Whatever “it” was, it had sounded like glass, which was interesting all by itself. Damned tough glass, if that's what it was; it hadn't been broken.
He was pretty sure it wasn't a ZPM, Rodney's instruments would have detected that - still, it could be damn near anything. The Ancients had been crazy bastards on their good days. And their bad days, well - Doranda came to mind...
Tink! “Gotcha. Okay, now what are you?” Very carefully, John poked and pried until he pulled it completely free. He cradled it carefully in one hand, while he climbed back down to somewhat steadier footing. Most of the dust had settled now, leaving a nice big pool of sunlight in the center of the cavern. John perched on one of the larger rocks, relieved to feel it stay motionless, and peered down at his prize.
A small, eight-sided container in the familiar Ancient stained-glass style, purple and blue, this time. Well, that was new and different. It was about one handspan across, surprisingly heavy, still cool from the earth John had dug it out of. And it was glowing, faintly, now that he had it dusted off. Hopefully not glowing in a bad way.
Hopefully...
“Well? Did you find it?”
“I found something. Looks like a little glass box, except for the whole, landslide-didn't-break-it thing. It's kind of cool-looking; it's all purple and blue.”
“Cool-looking? Wow. Dazzling vocabulary there, Colonel!” Sound of velcro, then rustling noises. “Okay, hang on a second.” More rustling and some clanking noises, and then a coil of rope slithered down into the hole, coiling its last few feet right next to John's boots. John sat up straighter and gave it a good tug - solid. Didn't budge. Rodney's getting better at this stuff. “Can you climb out?”
“Yep. Be right up. I see you remembered the rope!” Moving carefully, John zipped his tac vest up most of the way, wrapped the little box in his favourite black bandana for luck, and tucked it into the vest. Then he wrapped the rope around arms and legs, and started climbing.
The only really hard part was getting over the edge at the top without falling or dropping the box. But he did it, and was bemused to find it easier than it had ever been before.
Even though Carson had pronounced him Officially Debugged, John had noticed that ever since the Great Retrovirus Fiasco, he had a little more of everything physical; a bit more strength, a bit more speed, quicker reflexes. Fortunately, though, no more compulsion to go skittering up the walls like a cockroach. Which was good, since he hated cockroaches, with the fire of a thousand nukes.
Another nice thing about living in Atlantis - no fucking roaches. They'd seen them on some of the other worlds, but never a one inside the city, or even on the Jumpers. Suited John just fine, please and thankya.
“So, let's see it! What did you find?” Rodney was practically bouncing, he was so eager to get a look. John just smirked, reached into his vest, then handed over the still-wrapped box. Rodney already had his scanner out before he even got it unwrapped, and John shook more dirt out of his hair and off his uniform, then stood back to enjoy the show some more, smiling wider when the first thing Rodney did was rush back into the Jumper and sit down. Given that the pilot's chair was way more comfortable than the ground, John thought that was a brilliant idea, and quickly resumed his own station. Neither mentioned the cave-in again. Shit like that just happened in the Pegasus Galaxy; it was the safe way to bet, pretty much every time.
As he leaned back, sprawling comfortably, he noticed that Rodney had coiled up the rope and brought it in with him. We'll make a soldier of you yet, John thought, grinning.
“So tell me, did it light up brightly when you first touched it?” Rodney turned it end over end, throwing his scanner results up on the HUD for ease of reading.
“You know, it didn't.” Which was... odd. Most Ancient tech lit up like the 4th of July when John first touched it. He hadn't noticed at the time, being preoccupied just then with getting out of the hole he'd fallen into. Without taking a step. Again.
Rodney frowned. “But it still has some remaining power, enough to make that little glow, at least. That's pretty weird.” He scanned it some more, mumbling. “Hope it isn't-- well, hmm, it, ah, doesn't seem to be radioactive. Yet.”
John echoed Rodney's eye-roll. “It glows, though - so many times that doesn't end well.”
“I'm not thrilled, myself. So the question then is, why doesn't it light up? Is this almost drained, or is it locked, biometrically or otherwise?” Just the tip of Rodney's tongue showed as he glared at the so-far inoffensive glass box. He'd already tried opening it, without success. None of the various scans he'd done so far had told him anything useful.
“I don't know. Want me to try initializing it?”
“Not yet. Soon. I'll let you know.” Rodney looked up from his scanner momentarily. “What did we bring for supper, or were you figuring to go back in time for supper?”
“Heh. No, we don't have to be back until 2300. I figured a little peace and quiet would be good. No-one can pester us out here. Supper? I was thinking, how does beefalo steak sound?”
“Tasty - though how you're going to cook it out here, I don't know.”
“That's the easy part. I borrowed Teyla's camp stove, so we can keep warm and cook dinner, all at the same time.”
It was Rodney's turn to smirk. Now this he had to see. Being Canadian, not to mention literally getting posted to Siberia a few years back, Rodney knew all the tricks for messing with cantankerous wood stoves - and every woodstove was cantankerous. And evil. Some just hid it better. The odds of John, on the other hand, knowing what to do with one... Not likely. Pity Radek isn't here to bet with, hah!
John scowled. “What are you smirking at now?”
“That's for me to know, and you to find out. Now, I believe mention was made of steak?”
John rolled his eyes again. Rodney won the snark-off damn near every time. It was embarrassing, dammit. Ronon laughed his big, furry ass off every time he saw it happen.
Being hungry, though, he lost no time getting Teyla's campstove out of the back of the Jumper and setting it up. For the first time all day, he felt stiff and sore. Must be from that fall. He scowled, and kept moving, his muscles taking their own sweet time to loosen up. Fortunately, it didn't take him too long to find fuel; it was summer-warm on this part of the mainland right now, and there was plenty of dry downed wood. Plus, there was an axe in the Jumper's emergency kit. John set to with a will.
Damn! Lucky Rodney didn't see him bounce the axehead off his boot. Yay, steeltoes. Dave and his dad would have ridden him for weeks about that one. It had been too long since he'd done this. Still, Teyla's stove was a pretty basic model, no fancy bells and whistles, just your basic cookstove.
John worked diligently at his woodpile until he had, he hoped, enough for an evening.
The whole time he was doing that, Rodney kept typing, and poking at the artifact, and consulting his scanner. And John-watching. But he could be very sly when he really wanted to, and good at seeming to be interested in something else. Every time John looked over at him, Rodney was looking down at his laptop, or at the artifact, or at the Jumper's HUD, where he'd already posted all kinds of strange stuff.
Initial setup on the stove wasn't hard, just a matter of finding a patch of bare earth, or sand. Even gravel would work. That part was easy; so was attaching the chimney, which stood up past even Ronon's height. The ashcatcher had already been emptied, and John had collected several handsful of bark, dried grass, not-pine needles, seed cones, chopping block scraps - miscellaneous burnable crap. The good part was, now he could almost move normally; the work had warmed his muscles up and made him feel a lot better.
It was the actual fire itself that turned out to be the hard part. The first batch of tinder flamed up and vanished so quickly, none of the wood ignited. The second smouldered uneasily, smoke sneaking out the top of the stove and the joins in the chimney. He rattled the damper around and carefully relaid the kindling, and found some small branches/heavy twigs to be the middle of the fire pile. Bigger branches next. Some were surprisingly heavy, although they all seemed dry enough. He took more time and built it up until the stovetop was good and hot, the door was fully shut, and the chimney was drawing right. The skill came back to him slowly as he worked, remembering summers at the lake house, when his mother had still been alive...
Rodney had actually just put his scanner down when John decided it was officially a Fire. He had just turned to tell him so, when a loud BANG made both men dive for the ground. Duck first, live to ask questions later, always sound practice in the Pegasus galaxy. Nothing more exploded, and finally both of them stood up, brushing grass and dirt off one another's uniforms. It was Rodney that noticed it first.
“Holy crap. She's going to kill you, John. She's gonna kill you dead for this.”
Reluctantly, John followed Rodney's gaze... “Aw, you have got to be kidding me!” John pointed at the corner of the stove, and the fire that was now visible through a gaping crack there. “Aw, man. Teyla is gonna kill me.” The chimney was torn wide open at the bottom, jaggedly, and one corner of the stovebox now had a visible gap, through which the remains of the fire still shone fitfully. “The chimney might be fixable. But the woodbox - I don't know.”
Rodney whistled, “Yeah, she really might kill you, for that.” He pointed to the gaping hole, then the chimney. “You know, I don't think that's really safe to cook on. Let's not get carbon monoxide poisoning, and say we did...”
“But what are we going to eat?” John might have pouted, just the tiniest bit. Normally he just didn't get all that hungry. But after climbing out of that cave, chopping a bunch of wood - oh, and let's not forget, blowing up Teyla's camp stove... I am so dead! ...he'd worked up quite an appetite. Dammit, his belly had been all set for that beefalo steak!
Rodney grinned. “As it happens, my pyrotechnically-inclined friend, we have MREs in the Jumper - turkey pot pie for you, and mac n' cheese for me. Chocolate brownies for afters.”
John gaped, impressed where just a few minutes ago, he'd have been annoyed by the smugness. He still couldn't figure how he'd managed to blow up Teyla's stove - though now that he thought about it, he wasn't entirely sure he'd checked that chimney, for bird's nests or some such. Or maybe he'd missed some pitchwood? He might have missed something. Hell, he must have missed something, the damned thing exploded!
“You are a genius, Rodney. Nice save!” Mmm, pot pie...
“Thank you,” Rodney crowed, in that ha-ha, I win sing-song tone he and Zelenka always used. John pretended to scowl, all the while gloating over his MRE - the turkey pot pie was his favourite, one that he didn't get to eat very often. Lots of people liked those; they were always the first to vanish.
“Score! Thanks.” John sketched a bare-bones salute.
Rodney looked up from his own MRE and grinned. “Turns out Corporal Yates, in the mess, is a big Dr. Who fan. And I just happen to have the latest season, so voila! Dinner is saved!”
“Geek.” John stuck his tongue out.
“Nerd.” Rodney made the manga face: eyelid pulled down, tongue sticking out.
“Otaku!” Both of them yelled that in unison, then cracked up. Rodney finished his first MRE and grabbed a second one. John just finished his first. He never ate a lot; hell, if it hadn't been chocolate brownie, Rodney would already have conned his desert out of him. Chocolate brownie, though, was Serious Business. Men had died for less than that.
John patted his stomach happily, then picked up his brownie. “I have to admit it, Rodney; sometimes MREs have their moments.”
“Absolutely! I'll have you know, unless it's very well cooked, fresh food can be hazardous, not to mention, vastly overrated. I mean, hello? We invented preservatives for a reason!”
John laughed til he fell over sideways and lay on the ground, still wheezing and giggling. Yeah. Just like Ancient technology, Rodney was cool like that.
*******
It was going to be another beautiful day, John could tell. He'd just finished his morning run and shower, and here they had fresh bacon and eggs this morning. Made of win! He took his tray out to the team's usual table, where Ronon was already laying waste to a heavily-laden tray of his own.
No matter how quickly he got back to his quarters and showered after their run, Ronon always beat him to the chow line. Clean, too - he wasn't cheating. John had to respect that level of dedication. In a hypothetical munch-off between Rodney and Ronon, he couldn't even guess which one would win. Let's just say, he made damn sure never to get between either man and the nearest food.
“So, how'd your market run go yesterday?”
“Ah, it was okay. Found lots of meat and tormack, fell in a hole. McKay's got a new toy. The usual.”
“Huh.” One big reason John and Ronon got along so well. Neither had a lot to say, most of the time.
A rising commotion in the mess hall turned out to be Rodney and Radek, arguing vociferously as they carried their trays outside.
“Admit it, Rodney. You are wrong, you must pay up!”
“I'll admit no such thing, Dr. Weasel!” Somehow both men managed to sit down without spilling their trays, even though neither looked away from their argument.
“Weasel? You are cheapskate, Rodney McKay! Whole lab heard you say it, and you were wrong, so pay up!”
“Now children, no fighting at the breakfast table,” John drawled, earning himself twin scorching glares. “What are you fighting about this time?”
“Hah! Go ahead, Rodney, tell him.”
Rodney scowled. John just grinned at both of them, well aware that would piss off Rodney even more. A guy had to take his entertainment where he could find it, was John's philosophy.
Finally, Rodney relented. “That stupid box you found yesterday, Colonel.” He clammed up, scowling even more fiercely now. Oops. So much for tonight. Ah, well - with John's luck, there'd just be some stupid emergency tonight anyway.
“What about the box, Rodney?” In for a penny, in for a pound...
Radek laughed, earning his very own McKay Death Glare. “It is Ancient version of... little girl's music box. Plays music, has jewelry and crystals inside. Takes ATA gene and puzzle-solving skills to open.”
“Stupid puzzle!” Rodney snarled. No surprise there - Rodney was pretty damned good at solving puzzles, and never took defeat nobly.
“What's stupid about it?” There really weren't many puzzles Rodney couldn't solve, after all.
“The puzzle was based on philosophy, of all the idiotic things. How does that test a child's skills in any useful way?”
“Yes, and did not help matter that Dr. Simone solved it, yes?” Radek couldn't stop grinning.
Rodney huffed. “Idiot woman - I could have gotten another astrophysicist, but no, somebody at the SGC just had to send us a philosopher. Well, I wish her much luck with it. Not.”
“So much for Great Discovery, hmm? Chased wild goose, caught chicken instead.”
Both Ronon and John cracked up at that. The look on Rodney's face, as he handed over three of his treasured chocolate power bars to the evilly smirking Czech, oh, man - if John could bottle that, he could use it to clear out blocked thrusters, easily. It made up, just a little, for the fact that their whole expedition after the market yesterday had been a giant waste of time.
Now, if only he could find Teyla a new stove before she beat him to death in the gym... A guy could dream, right?
**
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