TEAM HOME: Zero Tolerance, "Unpredictable"
Title: Unpredictable
Author: emeraldsword
Team: Home
Prompt: Zero Tolerance
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: Adult
Warnings: None
Summary: In which Rodney keeps getting everyone arrested, Zelenka has cake-related schemes, Teyla has a saying and John has choices to make…
Author's notes: Thank you so much to gumbie_cat, lycoris, roaringmice and sabethea for being excellent betas! I'm extremely grateful to all of you for your extremely useful comments, critique and general support; all mistakes left are my own.
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**
Just occasionally, John forgot why he'd wanted McKay on his team. The mission to P3X-847 was one of those days.
"….unbearable. Biting insects, could be carrying any sort of evil alien parasite, not to mention they hurt!" McKay was flushed and swatting angrily at any of the midge-like things which dared to come anywhere near him. John now shared his unease with bugs (stupid Pegasus and its stupid monsters) but in the end he was pretty sure that these bugs were mostly harmless.
"I do not believe that these insects cause disease," Teyla said calmly. "There will be fewer of them when we come out from under the trees."
"I'm an astrophysicist!" McKay told her. John was fairly sure that Teyla had no idea what one of those was; from the look on Ford's face, he didn't think Teyla knew either, but McKay was already barrelling on. "Theoretical work, that's what I signed up to do, not hiking through mountains being attacked by wildlife!"
"It's not exactly a mountain, Doctor McKay," Ford pointed out. "I'd call this a hill."
"Are you a scientist? Are you a geographer? Then how would you know whether it's a hill or not?" McKay snapped.
"Looks like a hill to me," John observed in his mildest tone, one which he had already realised drove McKay absolutely nuts. "Teyla, do you think it's a hill?"
"The inhabitants of the village refer to it as such," Teyla informed him.
"Three to one," John told McKay.
"Three to one?" and it was strange that McKay wasn't panting harder, possibly the man was fitter than he thought himself. "Majority rule has nothing to do with this!" John was saved from having to answer that one as they crested the hill to see the village nestled in the valley in front of them.
"Down we go," John said, giving McKay a gentle little nudge with his shoulder. "And remember, McKay, we're here to make nice."
McKay sniffed.
"I am perfectly capable of that," he said loftily, and forged on ahead, ignoring John's raised eyebrow and Ford's barely-muffled cough of disbelief.
That was the first, although very far from the last, mission to wind up with them in the local prison. McKay panicked solidly for twenty minutes, which didn't stop him working out how to Macgyver a sort of pulley-winch device allowing them, with much effort on the part of John and Ford, to raise Teyla up to the roof where she was able to break through the strange combination of wood and thatch and wriggle through into freedom. Once she was out, it took ten minutes (during which McKay kept up a steady litany of things that could have happened to her to prevent her rescuing them) for them to be out as well. Though the journey to the Stargate was more eventful than John would really have liked, everyone got through it more or less unscathed, for once the Wraith didn't show up and John didn't have to count the mission as a complete disaster.
~ ~
As if the Wraith weren't giving them enough to worry about, once McKay had started getting them arrested he just couldn't seem to stop. Even Teyla looked annoyed when they were dragged through the streets to the local prison for the third time running.
"I believe our missions would progress better if you could learn to curb your tongue," she said sharply to McKay as the door slammed shut behind them.
"I only gave them some constructive criticism," McKay informed her, staring around the small and dirty cell in disgust.
"There is a difference between constructive criticism and calculated rudeness," Teyla said, moving swiftly towards the small window set high on the far wall. "Aidan, could you help me? I wish to examine this window."
Ford followed her over and boosted her up so she could check the bars.
"Well then," John said, before McKay could settle too far into the sulky silence which he tended to develop when he recognised that he might have been wrong but didn't want to admit it. "Any escape plans?"
"None that immediately spring to mind," McKay said, watching as Teyla cautiously and methodically tested each bar in turn. "However…" he said, brightening up slightly, and he was off and running, tossing ideas left, right and centre and leaving John to pick and choose which ones to try.
"Another day, another great escape," John said philosophically as he and Ford attempted to support a structure made of bedsprings and a very mangy blanket for long enough for Teyla to get a safe purchase on the ceiling beam, which she was supposed to swing along to the high but large for a prison cell window, smash it with the sole of her boot and then wriggle through. Looking at the resigned expression on her face, John suspected that she wasn't expecting this plan to be very successful. Judging by the look on Ford's face, he didn't expect it either. Personally, John would have preferred to be the one swinging along the ceiling but Rodney had pointed out that Teyla was more likely to fit through the window than John was, and anyway, there was no point in getting someone out if they were too directionally challenged to return and rescue everyone. John had pouted, and McKay had presented him with the blanket and told him to hold still.
At that point, the blanket ripped. Teyla lost her tenuous hold on the beam and it was more by luck than judgement that Ford managed to catch her. McKay sighed the sigh of those who are surrounded by idiots, and began inspecting the remains of the blanket.
~
In the end, an escape wasn't actually required as the villagers returned after three hours.
"A verdict has been reached," an upsettingly muscular man told John. "We will not tolerate him here." He pointed at McKay for emphasis, though it had been perfectly clear who he meant. "You will take him and leave."
At that, Teyla and John stopped their casual drift in front of McKay, and Teyla asked:
"What of our equipment?"
"You will find it waiting for you at the ring," the man told them.
"What happens if we come back?" inquired John.
"Doctor McKay will not be allowed to remain," the man said implacably.
"I mean, if we come back without Doctor McKay," John clarified, ignoring Rodney's hurt expression.
"If you come back without Doctor McKay, an agreement may be possible."
"Right, well, we'll be off then. Glad we had this chat," said John. He took point, jerking his head at the others who fell in behind him, Teyla and Ford subtly manoeuvring to put McKay in the centre of their formation. The villagers watched them go in silence.
~
Needless to say, Elizabeth was not pleased by the way that the mission had ended.
"We are short enough of friends in this galaxy," she said. "We cannot afford to make more enemies."
"I do not believe that we have made a new enemy," Teyla said smoothly. "The leader indicated that a return without Doctor McKay might meet with some success, though I would recommend a gift as a goodwill gesture before reopening negotiations."
"Okay. In that case, John, if you could select a temporary fourth to go with you, Teyla and Aidan to try and establish trade, then we'll run that."
"You're grounding me?" McKay exclaimed. "For one mistake?"
"If the Halluunan won't trade with you, they won't trade with you," Elizabeth said, not as sharply as she might have done. "I'm sorry Rodney, but we need all the allies we can get. Once we've established a trading relationship, any future missions to P3C-729 will be assigned to another team, but for now we need SGA-1."
John shifted slightly in his chair, once again regretting his lack of experience with the Stargate program because McKay looked crushed. He barely spoke for the rest of the meeting and hurried away when Elizabeth finally called it to a close.
When John didn't see him in the mess that evening, he decided to drop by the lab. McKay was frowning, absorbed in his work and the empty lab felt unusually silent. John stood for a moment, a funny twist under his ribs, waiting for McKay to notice him. When the other man showed no signs of doing so, John cleared his throat.
"You been here since the meeting?" he asked. McKay jumped as if he'd been shot.
"What are you doing, sneaking up on me? Don't you have better things to do than sneak up on people, people who are actually doing something useful?"
"Nope," said John, simply. "Lab's empty, McKay. Time to call it a night."
"Genius cannot be bound by mundanities such as time," McKay told him with a sniff, but he was already starting to save his work and clear up the general detritus that tended to surround him when he'd been working for a long period. John watched quietly, letting McKay's complaining drift over him.
"You wanna watch a movie?" he asked. It was hard to say whether he or McKay was more surprised.
"What?" McKay asked, sounding both sceptical and hopeful all at once. John over-rode the bits of his brain that were screaming 'bad idea' to say,
"A movie?" He even managed an eyebrow raise which he hoped would convey 'you don't know what a movie is' but suspected was just making him look insecure.
"I'm pretty sure I don't want to watch any movie you'd choose," McKay said, sounding cheerful. "But I'm sure I've got something worth re-watching for the millionth time and I suppose you could join me if you want to."
"Lead on," John said. And that was how they ended up sprawled on a pile of blankets on McKay's floor, not so much watching a film as bickering gently in its general direction. When John woke up fully-dressed and grubby on the floor next morning, Rodney flat-out and snoring next to him, he wasn't even surprised. He left Rodney a note saying 'your back, your floor, your fault,' and went back to his own quarters to shower and prepare for their next attempt at making a treaty with P3C-729.
~
Without McKay in tow, the mission went smoothly, even if it was one of the most boring missions that John had ever been on. A part of him would have welcomed the Wraith just for some action, though the fact that they didn't show probably meant that the problem really had been Teyla's pendant rather than a spy. The debrief seemed even longer than the mission, something which John would have sworn wasn't possible. On the pretext of asking McKay a question about subjective time dilation fields, John made his way to the lab when Elizabeth FINALLY let them go. He was surprised to find McKay and Zelenka bickering over off-world missions.
"What'cha doin?" he asked, ambling up behind them to peer at the screen.
"He is running a betting pool on our imminent demise!" McKay told him shrilly.
John blinked.
"That's not very nice," he said to Zelenka. "We're doing fine so far."
"If by 'fine', you mean 'constantly in prison'," the Czech told him. "It is not true, anyway. I do not wish you ill, Major, I merely observed that your team is leading the incarceration table," ("Incarceration table?" mouthed John,) "and Rodney attempted to dispute this."
"I'm a little concerned by the keeping of statistics," John said.
"Is scientific," Zelenka told him. "Also, it annoys Rodney greatly, which is more important."
"Hello, I'm standing right here," snapped McKay. "And the Major is right, there must be a better use of the data than this, not to mention your time."
"If you are imprisoned on your next off-world mission, I win two lemon cake-bars," Zelenka told him. "Cake is best use of data there is."
"And what are you actually here for anyway?" McKay said, staring at John. "The Halluunan didn't prove as obliging as you'd hoped?"
"Apparently to provide cake and comedy," John said. "Lunch?"
"I suppose a break from these idiots might do me some good," Rodney said, but without heat. Zelenka said something almost certainly mildly unpleasant in Czech and turned back to his own workstation, thereby missing the face McKay pulled at his back. John surprised both of them by laughing out loud.
"Come on, Rodney. Get there early, maybe you can get double your share of pudding." McKay gave him a strange look but fell into step beside him cheerfully enough.
~~
On M8C-762, a misunderstanding about a goat and a not-quite hasty enough exit on McKay's part resulted in yet another jail cell. John took comfort in the fact that Teyla and Ford seemed to have managed to get away, and began to check out his surroundings. It was only after he had spent ten fruitless minutes examining the windowless basement selected as the prison cell of the week that he registered McKay's silence. Frowning, he turned to look at him, and was surprised to see him settled against a relatively clean piece of wall, tapping away at his data pad.
"Um, a little help, please?" he asked. McKay looked up.
"With what?" He gestured around the room. "Windowless cell, tiny air vents, lit by flaming torches that are really more smouldering than flaming anyway but would still set you on fire if you tried to get them out of those brackets, and the door is locked with bolts. We're not getting out of here without outside assistance so why waste energy trying?" And McKay turned his attention back to his data pad.
John scowled. "These torches…" he began.
"Don't even think about it," McKay told him, without looking up. "Far too firmly bolted to the walls for you to have any hope of getting them loose - all you'll do is singe your hair and put the already inadequate lights out." He smirked. "Not that it wouldn't be amusing to see something happen to your hair, but the negatives outweigh the positives. Face it, Major, we're waiting."
"Something you are usually more concerned about," John pointed out. "Unless you've learned to gracefully accept the inevitable…"
McKay snorted, which raised John's spirits slightly.
"No, I've found a better use for that data." At John's blank look, Rodney gave him glare number five, 'you are being slow, even for you.' "The mission data he's been analysing instead of working."
"The lemon cake bars," John said, earning himself glare number seven, 'talking to you is only marginally better than talking to myself.'
"We're calling it the Expected Release Calculator; you just enter the details of your current situation into the program and it analyses the variables to predict when you'll be released."
"So?" John said.
"Is that all you can say? It may sound simple to the uneducated but, thanks to the sheer volume of variables, this is actually an extremely complex…"
"So when does it say we'll be out of here?" John asked patiently.
"Oh." McKay looked mollified and began feverishly tapping away again. "Well, windowless basement, no other exits, no electronics, Teyla and Ford not captured as far as we know…oh."
McKay looked crestfallen, and John grabbed for the tablet.
"Ten days?" he exclaimed. McKay grabbed it right back and began editing the data.
"If Teyla were in here with us it would be twenty," he said with what John felt was an inappropriate note of triumph.
"Give me that," John took the data pad and began scanning through the program.
"You put the variables in here…" McKay began and the two bickered until their release six hours later.
~ ~
Planet of the Kids, as McKay called it and 'the one where McKay stole from children' as Ford liked to call it ("How very FRIENDS of you," McKay said. "Oh. My Gaahhhd," John said, causing McKay to stare at him in horror and Ford to burst out in a what could only be described as a giggle) and its aftermath kept John rather busy, though not half as busy as the encounter with the Genii a few weeks later did, and John didn't think about the Expected Release Calculator again until they were trapped in a cave by a rock fall. After McKay had ranted for fifteen minutes about structural integrity, lack of oxygen/food/water, the possibility of dangerous macro/micro fauna plus a few other things and had started to repeat himself, John interrupted with,
"You still got that gizmo?"
"What gizmo?" called Ford from the back of the cave where he was cautiously checking for alternative exits and predatory animals in what John suspected were pretty much equal amounts.
"The Great Escape gizmo," John told him, methodically checking the collapsed rock face for weak spots.
"A device which will help us to escape?" asked Teyla, but John suspected that she'd grown used to him now because she continued checking for exits despite the cut on her arm which was still oozing blood despite being staunched with a (fairly grubby) bandage.
"No, it's the Expected Release Calculator," McKay said, sounding irritated instead of panicky, which was what John had been aiming for. "You put in the…"
"Skip this bit," John told him. "Get putting already." He couldn't see very well through the dim light but he could feel McKay glaring at him. "Either that or get over here and help me haul rocks," John said, as his fingers found something that might just be a weakness. Teyla and Ford immediately moved over to help, and McKay sniffed.
"It's not really worth it if you've already found a way out," he said, standing far enough away from the heavy lifting not to actually have to do any, but close enough to direct operations. "I'll just write it up later to add to the data it draws on for next time. Move the one on the left next."
"You update it?" John said, slightly breathlessly thanks to the very large rock he and Ford were attempting to rock out of position.
"Well, of course - it's not exactly the most accurate thing, is it? The more data it has, the more reliable it will be." McKay pointed out, moving almost absent-mindedly to help Teyla enlarge the hole through which a small shaft of daylight was slowly becoming visible.
"So that thing can really tell you when you're going to get out of somewhere?" Ford asked sceptically as McKay boosted Teyla up to try and wriggle through the hole they'd made.
"It analyses the variables and predicts the most likely outcome," McKay said, dodging as Teyla's boot nearly caught him in the face. "Obviously, it doesn't predict the future. Though, it would be a lot more successful if this galaxy weren't so inherently unpredictable. Farmers with nukes," he muttered.
"So, you run that program and then decide whether or not to try and escape? Sounds like a pointless waste of time to me," Ford said.
"This route is sound," Teyla reported. "The drop on the other side is not far, and I believe we will be able to make it out safely."
"Boost me up next," John commanded. "Then McKay, and Ford, you last." McKay muttered something incomprehensible. John suspected it to be a mixture of irritation with Ford's disinterest in the scientific approach and resentment at not being next out. John threw a rather large rock down just close enough to make the other man jump.
"While I'm up here, might as well widen it," he pointed out sweetly. Ford was grinning slightly and McKay was clearly sulking now. John made sure to throw the rest of the debris outside, rather than inside the cave, lessening the drop slightly. When he judged that McKay would be able to fit through, he moved out into the fresh air and took a position which would help get McKay down as quickly and safely as possible. McKay emerged with more grace, and more swearing, than John had expected, but he emerged and grumbled all the way back to the jumper, which John took as a good sign.
~ ~
M5C-539 brought a new hazard to the floor. Much to John's surprise (and probable embarrassment, if everything hadn't been so warm and fuzzy and nice), he found himself being half-carried back to the jumper by a long suffering McKay.
"I know you can walk better than this," Rodney told him, irritation and amusement mingling in his voice. "You're just not trying. And how does a man as thin as you manage to weigh so damn much? Even you don't have that much hair."
"Like my hair," John told him, trying and failing to pick his feet up more. "Why so fast?"
"We're not going fast, you are going exceptionally slowly," Rodney informed him.
"We believe you ate one of the ke-to," Teyla told him. "They have this effect on those who are not accustomed to them."
"They were nice," agreed John. "Nice, nice, nice." Rodney snorted in what could have been amusement.
"Yes Major, everyone knows how nice you think everything is right now," he said. "Personally, I think you could use another adjective - you claim to be reading War and Peace! Though, I found very little 'nice' about Russia so I suppose it's not a word they'd use often." He stopped and attempted to readjust John's weight slightly, trying to use the arm John had slung over Rodney's shoulders as a sort of lever. John settled himself more comfortably into Rodney's side and Rodney sighed slightly but started moving again.
"Do you want any help, Sir?" Ford asked. He had a funny expression on his face, halfway between amusement and deep embarrassment, and even in John's state he could see that the last thing he wanted was to be taken up on his offer.
"He's fine, Lieutenant," Rodney said. "High as a kite and heavy as hell, but if you dislodge him now we'll probably never get him moving again."
"Will so," John said determinedly. He made a half-hearted attempt to stand unaided but Rodney had clearly been prepared for that one and John was really too happy to go round proving points.
"Teyla ate one of those cakes!" John told Ford. "I saw her!"
"But I am accustomed to them," Teyla told him. She and Ford exchanged amused glances and John pouted slightly, anchoring himself more firmly against Rodney's side because the world was spinning a bit too much for a safe dismount and Rodney might get some ideas about dropping him. John tried to take more of his own weight.
"We going home now?" he asked, somewhat plaintively.
"No, I'm just carrying you all over this desolate rock of a planet for the good of my health."
John giggled.
"Kyritoth is regarded as one of the most civilised worlds." Teyla said, somewhat coldly.
Ford started laughing and Rodney sent him a killer glare. Ford was accustomed to these by now and took no notice, which only made Rodney glare harder.
"Oh, for…. All right, it's fine, it's lovely, it's the nicest planet I've been to all day and yes, we are going home now." Rodney said, as the spot where they had left the jumper came into view. "You'll have to let go now Major," Rodney told him. "Ford can't fly them, remember?"
"Poor Ford," John said, watching as Teyla operated the device to make the cloak disappear and the jumper shimmered into view. Then they were somehow in the cockpit and Rodney abandoned him in the co-pilot's chair to chart a very bumpy course back to the gate. By the time they got home to Atlantis, John felt considerably less happy and considerably more nauseous. He managed to avoid being confined to the infirmary and spent the remainder of the day hiding in his office trying not to throw up and swearing never to eat anything off world ever again. Ford had come in at one point, but had left, looking sympathetic and far too amused, when John had threatened to shoot him for thinking too loudly about food. He was slumped over his desk, half-dozing and calculating and recalculating the chances of getting to his quarters safely and uninterrupted when he heard the door open.
"Major?" Rodney said, and somehow John wasn't even surprised.
"If I said no, would you go away?" he asked.
Rodney made a quiet noise of amusement. "I brought you a power bar," he said. "Easy on the stomach."
"I don't want it," John said, but somehow found himself sitting up and eating it anyway.
"You want to watch a movie?" Rodney asked, and John smiled despite himself.
"Only if I get to pick," he said.
"I'm really not sure that anything you've got will be worth watching," Rodney told him, looking hopeful. "But I suppose it's my duty to make sure you don't mope yourself to death."
"I'm hung over!" John pointed out.
Rodney sniffed. "If you say so." He didn't quite resort to saying 'la la la I can't hear you,' but he did change the subject so effectively that John barely noticed that they were going to Rodney's quarters rather than his own. Wishing very strongly for a couch, John helped Rodney arrange the room and then flopped down on the big pile of blankets.
The problem with being sprawled on the floor was that John couldn't keep his eyes open. He was woken by the silence when the credits rolled, and found that not only had he wound up flat on the floor, his head was pillowed on Rodney's thigh. He sat up quickly, rubbing a hand across his face.
"Thank God for that," Rodney said, standing quickly and awkwardly and heading for the bathroom. The moment the door closed behind him, John got to his feet and left.
~
If Rodney had any opinions about that evening, he didn't share them. John didn't avoid him as such, but he made sure to only see the scientist in public areas and Rodney didn't make any attempt to seek him out. John did overhear half a discussion between him and Zelenka in the mess ("If we start adding hallucinogens into the mix, the variables will take forever to compute!" "You cannot just miss out data because you don't like it!" "It's supposed to be a useful field tool, not an interesting academic exercise!" "This is not useful tool, this is distraction." "Fine, but if we add hallucinogens we have to add anaphylaxis, not to mention…") which proved that the mission had not been forgotten but seemed to indicate that it had been forgiven, and also proved that the Great Escape Generator might well be in need of a version 2.0. In an attempt to avoid paperwork, John scribbled down a few thoughts on it, and quickly saw why Rodney and Zelenka had seized onto it as an excellent diversion - it really was a lot more complicated than it originally appeared. He was halfway through working the whole thing out from first principles when he was interrupted by the need to prepare for the mission to M5S-224.
Earth. Back to Earth.
"Home," Rodney said wistfully. "Teyla, you'll love it, I swear. You can meet my cat…OK, well, maybe that's not the most exciting thing you can imagine but I'm sure the Major here will have nine million ideas about risky adrenaline rushes you can endure, but my cat is really… I'd hate to say nice, exactly, she's not a pushover…"
"Keep this up, McKay, and I'm going to have to make a joke about you being pussy-whipped," John drawled, causing Ford to snort drink out of his nose and Teyla to look confused. Then, of course, John had to explain the reference. He looked at Rodney for help, but Rodney just smirked and said:
"You got yourself into it, you can get yourself out."
"Rather an unfortunate choice of wording," Teyla observed, looking extremely innocent. Ford turned crimson and John howled with laughter.
Rodney shook his head, but he was grinning helplessly. "Yes, yes, very funny," he said. "When I get home I plan to eat the largest pizza I can find."
"Burgers," Ford said immediately. "Real burgers with fries and loads of sauce."
"Oh, and Twinkies," Rodney said. Teyla and John exchanged amused glances.
"What will you do on your return to Earth?" Teyla asked. John shrugged. 'Get court-martialled,' he thought.
"I guess I'll just play it by ear," he said.
"Oh, come on, you must have something you want to do," Rodney said.
"Yeah, Sir, there must be something," Ford agreed. John shrugged again.
"I'd kinda like another book. I'm on schedule with War and Peace, but it'd be nice to have something to break it up a bit," he said. Both Rodney and Ford rolled their eyes.
"You are crazy," Rodney told him. "Your lack of interest in food quite frankly disturbs me."
"The Star Wars prequels," John said. "Gotta see whether film 3 was as bad as the others."
"Oh, I don't know, Attack of the Clones did have some redeeming features," Rodney said thoughtfully.
"It did not!" exclaimed John and Ford in unison.
Teyla sat back to watch, looking amused as Ford and John fired points at Rodney, who countered them with much hand waving. John found himself grinning as the back-and-forth between them got more and more spirited. Rodney eventually appealed to Teyla.
"You've seen it, what did you think?"
"I do not believe I feel these things as deeply as you do," Teyla said. "However, I would very much like some of the tools used by Jango Fett. They are not entirely honourable, perhaps, but they would indeed be handy."
"Teyla agrees with me!" Rodney said triumphantly.
"Teyla does nothing of the kind!" John said, and the discussion continued.
When he finally had to return to work, John found that even discussing Star Wars hadn't quelled his doubts about returning to Earth. If anything, it had intensified them. He pushed his thoughts determinedly aside and actually started to get his paperwork in order so that whoever took over would have nothing to complain about.
~
Something so far inside John he liked to pretend it wasn't there was relieved when it turned out that they couldn't actually get back to Earth after all. Explanations, court-martials, reassignment, all delayed a bit longer. But now, John was aware that the clock was ticking. Sure, the missions they'd been going on had always had the primary aim of "find a ZPM so we can go home," and OK they'd had secondary aims as well, aims they'd managed to fulfil much more successfully, but that wasn't what they were supposed to be doing. John was supposed to be in charge of finding a way out of this galaxy, and the irony that, if given a choice, he'd choose to stay, was not one that was lost on him.
~~~
The first mission after the storm was strange. Rodney was quieter than usual, his movements slightly jerky even though Beckett had released him for duty and John knew that the arm didn't hurt him any more. His complaints lacked their usual energy; if it had been anyone else John would have wondered whether or not they were just complaining because that was what was expected of them, but this was Rodney and complaining came as naturally to him as breathing. Whatever was going on, the whole team dynamic was off somehow, and perhaps it was because of this that Rodney drank one (or two) too many glasses of the local brew.
"You OK, buddy?" John asked. Rodney was slumped right over, almost bent in two, and staring unseeingly at his almost-empty glass.
"I don't know," Rodney said, not looking up. "I have no idea. You tell me." He looked up then, meeting John's eyes with a surprisingly steady gaze even as he completely failed to put his glass onto the bench beside him. He didn't even react when it smashed on the floor and the beer splashed over his boots.
"Maybe we should get you some air," John said. Rodney nodded and got to his feet. He staggered slightly, and put a hand to his head.
"Guess that stuff was stronger than I thought," he said woozily.
"This way," John said, putting out an arm as Rodney staggered again. Rodney shook him off and they made silent and unsteady progress towards the external door. After the heat of the hall, the cold air hit John like a slap in the face. He breathed deeply, pulling in the smells of an alien world, the familiar undertones of mud and sweat overlaid with spices and the scent of flowers John couldn't begin to identify. He took another breath, recognising the fact that he himself was not as sober as he'd thought, and then set off after Rodney who was headed determinedly in the direction of a wall-bench thing barely visible at the far end of the courtyard. He reached it without incident, though he sat down so heavily he almost fell off backwards. He righted himself quickly and gave John a belligerent glare.
"Fresh air," John said, seating himself cautiously next to Rodney. "Clear your head."
"My head is perfectly…" began Rodney. He trailed off partway through and for a moment John thought he was going to throw up and regretted having sat so close. He could deal with vomit, but he'd rather not have to.
"You OK?" he asked in alarm. He realised his mistake when, instead of throwing up, Rodney rounded on him.
"Do I look OK to you? You have a brain under all that hair, not to mention some extremely well-honed fighting skills which I am grateful for because if we'd lost Elizabeth…" He broke off for a moment and John tried to jump in but Rodney was already barrelling on. "I mean, there I was, and you…" he waved a hand around in what John assumed meant 'killed 55 people with one push of a button' but could equally have meant 'behaved in an incredibly stupid and reckless manner which I will forgive this one time because it actually paid off.' Whichever he meant, he overbalanced and almost fell off the wall again.
"You did good," John said hastily. "Seriously. You're OK, you know you are." Rodney exhaled heavily and slumped again, all the fight going out of him. John patted him awkwardly on the nearest place he could reach, which happened to be Rodney's thigh. Rodney was still for a moment, then placed his own hand over John's. John's ribs clenched as Rodney turned to face him, bringing his hand to cup John's jaw gently as he leaned in.
When their lips met, John felt a shock right through him. He froze for a second, his grip tightening on Rodney's thigh, and then he kissed back, hard. The kiss got hot and dirty fast. Rodney's hand was at the back of John's neck, fingers in his hair, thumb stroking his ear. Not to be outdone, John slid his own hand up Rodney's thigh to rest on his waist, under his shirt. One of them moaned, John had the suspicion it might have been him but he didn't care because, god, Rodney.
"Major Sheppard. Doctor McKay."
The unfamiliar voice cut sharply through the sex-haze surrounding them. John jerked away, snapping his head towards the source of the sound so sharply he unbalanced them both and Rodney went sprawling on the floor. Facing them was the village elder, with a face like thunder.
"We have zero tolerance for this sort of behaviour," he told them. "Your kind are not welcome here. You and your team will leave at first light and you will not return." Rodney got clumsily to his feet.
"But…" he began.
"Leave it, McKay," John snapped. He stood abruptly, hands clenched by his sides. "Let's find Teyla and Ford." He waiting just long enough to see that Rodney was following before stalking back indoors. The crowd parted as he went in, whether because of his new-found notoriety or his barely-concealed rage, he wasn't sure. Teyla caught his eye and began heading over immediately.
"No deal," he told her. "We leave at first light. Where's Ford?"
"I will find him," Teyla said. The elder stepped forward.
"You will accompany these men to the room you have been allocated," he told her. "Your colleague will be brought to you." Teyla looked startled, but one glance at John's steely expression and Rodney's shell-shocked face convinced her to keep silent.
~
The room was conspicuously nicer than previous cells, possibly because it hadn't been intended for the purpose, but the guards were even more heavily-armed than usual and looked distinctly annoyed about having to be there. John forced himself to keep his head up but couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. The door slammed, blocking out their stares, and Rodney flopped heavily across the nearest bed, face hidden. John headed over to the window and stared blindly out, forcing his hands into his pockets in case the shaking gave him away. Teyla said nothing, merely seated herself on the edge of one of the beds.
A few minutes later the door banged open and Ford was thrown in, red-faced and spluttering.
"What the hell?" he asked.
"Turns out the Zalunans don't allow homosexuals," said John through clenched teeth. "It's a one strike policy. Fags equals no deal." Even the poor reflection in the murky glass of the window allowed John to see Ford's eyes dart to McKay.
"We'll be leaving at first light and no one will be coming back," John told them.
Ford made a frustrated noise.
"Get some sleep," John told him. He was ready to make it an order, but thankfully Ford just went over to one of the two remaining beds and lay down. Teyla followed suit, but John stood at the window and watched the light change.
As soon as there was enough light for them to find their way safely back to the gate, John woke them. Everyone looked subdued and pale. Rodney had beard burn; he also had what looked to be the hangover from hell, which John hoped would distract from it somewhat.
The guards were only too happy to show them off-world. John set a brisk pace back to the gate and no-one said a word.
"Cultural differences," was all John said when Elizabeth asked what had happened.
~ ~
John didn't see Rodney for almost a week. He wasn't sure whether to not the other man was avoiding him because he himself was making sure he had to spend as little time with McKay as possible.
The next mission was beyond awkward. McKay was making a determined effort to pretend that nothing had ever happened but his usual ranting had reduced to a sort of mutter, not directed at anyone and he kept trailing off mid-sentence. Ford and Teyla were clearly uncomfortable, and kept exchanging glances and looking at John when they thought he couldn't see. John put Teyla on point and took six himself to avoid them. Ford and McKay kept pace in the centre for a while, but then McKay dropped back.
"Call off your dog," he said in a low voice. John wasn't sure which surprised him most, the fact that McKay was talking to him or the venom in his voice.
"What?" he said.
"You heard me," McKay said. "Tell Lieutenant Ford to keep his opinions to himself."
"I…" John began.
"You know exactly what I mean!" McKay yelled. Teyla and Ford both stopped and looked around; John waved them on with a quick stab of his hand.
"I've let you pretend," McKay said quietly. "I'm not going to say anything but I will not stand for being treated like shit by some callow little grunt. So sort him out."
"Rodney,"
"I don't want to hear it," Rodney said, sounding tired. "Just tell Ford to knock it off."
John blew out a frustrated breath.
"OK," he said.
Once they were at the village, he took Ford aside.
"Any issues you have with Doctor McKay can't affect the team," he said, face as blank as possible. "We've all made mistakes, so leave this one alone." He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering whether there were prizes for getting the maximum of management-speak into the minimum of words.
"That's not…" Ford began. John opened his eyes and frowned slightly.
Ford looked frustrated but his voice was steady when he said,
"Yes, Sir."
~ ~
Thankfully uneventful mission and unnecessarily long debrief later, John was heading for his quarters to shower and pretend this day had never happened when Teyla fell into step beside him.
"I wish to discuss with you the incident on Zaluna," she said.
"I don't think any discussion is necessary," John said calmly, not breaking stride.
"Distaste for homosexuals is natural but we cannot allow our feelings about Doctor McKay's proclivities to affect the working of the team," Teyla told him. "I do not wish to endure another mission like today's."
"That's not what this is about," said John, startled. "McKay's Canadian, he can kiss whoever he wants."
Teyla frowned. "What does his country have to do with it?"
"In Canada, homosexuals can even get married," John paused, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "The Athosians have taboos on homosexuality?"
Teyla looked as though she was choosing her words carefully.
"There is a saying," she told him. "A man who supports his wife and child may do what he likes on feast days."
"Ah," said John. "American military has 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'."
"So, Doctor McKay's behaviour on Zaluna was acceptable to your people but yours was not."
John stumbled and stopped in the middle of the corridor, face turning crimson. "What?" he asked, voice low, glancing up and down the corridor and feeling an overwhelming rush of relief when he realised it was empty.
Teyla gave him a look he couldn't decipher. "Aidan and I are not blind, John, nor are we stupid. It was unkind of you to imply that Rodney alone was responsible for the incident on Zaluna."
"I…" John said, and swallowed. "I could lose my job. Lose everything."
Teyla's expression softened somewhat but she waited in silence.
"Atlantis is my home now," he said. "I don't want to jeopardise that."
"For this to be home, it must have family. You may never regain contact with Earth, and I am sure that if you do, Elizabeth would not allow you to be forced to leave against your will. We would not allow you to leave."
John looked at her cautiously.
"You do not support a wife, but you support the city and that is enough," Teyla told him. "I will speak to Aidan and he will make sure that nobody asks." She smiled, a strained smile that did not quite reach her eyes but a smile nonetheless, and walked away.
John scrubbed a hand through his hair, thinking about the fact that he had nothing to tell.
~ ~
He thought about that for a couple of days, then manoeuvred the situation so that he and Rodney found themselves alone in a transporter. John pressed the button to transport them out to the East Pier and just as quickly activated the locking mechanism, hoping that Rodney hadn't seen what he'd done. He took a breath, steeling himself.
"So, I've been kind of a jerk," he began awkwardly. Rodney looked startled, glanced at the controls and then glared at him.
"Kind of?" he spluttered. "You leave me to take all of the blame for what was, in hindsight, a totally foreseeable and avoidable disaster of a mission, completely humiliate me and you think you might have been kind of a jerk? Oh, and now you're kidnapping me!"
"OK, a lot. I was a lot of a jerk. And I'm not kidnapping you, I just want you to hear me out without being interrupted."
"I have no interest in hearing anything you could possible have to say." Rodney's tone was final, and John said urgently,
"Look, I panicked, OK? I could lose my job over this, Rodney!"
"Elizabeth would never let that happen," Rodney said dismissively. "But luckily for you, there is no 'this' for you to lose your job over. Now, will you let me out?"
"I came in from nowhere and killed their commanding officer. Elizabeth can say what she likes." John shook his head, forcing himself to get back on track. "Give me another chance, Rodney," he said softly. "Please."
Rodney's face was a mass of expressions but the one he settled on was angry.
"I don't know what your problem is, Major, but I don't want to be a part of it. Now, if you've finished holding me hostage, some of us have real work to do." He stepped around John to the controls, took them to the labs and unlocked the doors. John stood still as Rodney barrelled past him. When the doors closed, he punched the wall.
~
John went back to his quarters but instead of showering he went for a run, deliberately taking a route that took him far away from the inhabited areas. He set a deliberately punishing pace, determined to drive all thoughts of Rodney and Zaluna out of his head.
He wasn't surprised when he wound up at Grounding Station 3. They'd repaired it enough, but the marks were still there. John sat on some debris, trying not to imagine Rodney's blood on the floor. As soon as he'd caught his breath, he headed back to his quarters. He showered and headed to his office, a man with a plan.
~ ~
"Um, Sir, what are you doing?"
John backed out from under the desk, clutching another pile of papers that weren't what he was looking for.
"The Great Escape Generator," he said.
Ford blinked. "That thing of McKay's?" he said, somewhat cautiously. "What about it?"
"I had notes about it here somewhere," John said. "If I could just remember where I put them."
Ford shrugged.
"You write all over everything and most of it's meaningless," he said. "No offence, Sir," he added quickly, as John raised an eyebrow. "Have you tried the back of the report you wrote on that world?"
John sighed. "A paperless base. Why did we even bring this much crap through the Stargate?" he asked.
"We traded for it on P4C-236," Ford said dryly. "Mistranslation," he explained, when John gave him a baffled look.
"Riiight," John said. "OK, new plan, start over."
"Why don't you ask McKay for it?"
"Can't do that, Lieutenant. More than my life's worth," John said. "Since when did you start doing my paperwork anyway?" he asked.
"Since I realised that no one else even knows this room is here." John gave him a look and Ford had the grace to look sheepish. John gave him the task of sorting all the papers into date order with specific instructions to look out for the Great Escape calculations ("And that's an order, Lieutenant,") while he himself went to pursue a different line of enquiry.
~
Zelenka gave him a beady-eyed stare.
"And for what purpose would you need this?" he asked. "You opposed the keeping of statistics."
"I'm coming to reconsider my stance," John said cautiously. "Besides, it's not exactly the statistics I want."
"You wish to profit from the fruits of my labours," Zelenka told him.
"I wouldn't call it that," John hedged.
"No? Then what would you call it?" Zelenka asked sweetly. When John didn't answer, he continued. "I have put much time into this."
"I'm sure we can come to some agreement," John said.
"I have found that items containing citrus tend to last the longest in my work environment," Zelenka said. "Curious, this. However, chocolate will also be acceptable."
"How about if I spend five evenings working on the jumpers with you?" John said, thinking of the rapidly-dwindling supply of chocolate in his quarters, at least some of which he was going to use to placate Rodney.
"In addition to snack food, this would be excellent," Zelenka said. There was a glint in his eye that told John this was about the best he was going to get.
"You drive a hard bargain," he said, grudgingly.
"Rodney has been unbearable recently. Does not take genius to realise why," Zelenka's smile suddenly seemed to contain a great many teeth. "You owe me more than 15 hours of jumper maintenance and some confectionary, but this will do for now." He turned to walk away.
"The files?" John said.
"They will be in your inbox this afternoon," Zelenka told him. John gave him a lemon cake bar to seal the deal, and headed off to check his emails.
~
The files came through as promised, along with a little cartoon of John being at least three-quarters hair and extremely confused. John snorted, and spent the next week working on the program in every spare minute. The ideas he'd developed before began to come back to him, and the fact that he didn't want or need half of the variables McKay and Zelenka seemed to feel were vital (what colour uniform the guards were wearing?) and was, in fact, aiming for a different result, helped speed things up a little. It still took him longer than he'd like to get a version he was even halfway satisfied with, but he was almost there by the time he and the team had to go on another mission.
After their confrontation in the transporter, John had made a determined effort to be as normal as possible with Rodney, and he had been somewhat surprised to find that the other man responded. John suspected that Teyla might well have made her general displeasure with the team situation known to Rodney as well; certainly Rodney came to any and all team bonding exercises that John saw fit to organise with only minimal grumbling. The fact that the team bonding exercises now tended to involve either food or movies and avoided exercise might also have something to do with this. Whatever the cause, the team dynamic was somewhat restored and John had even been allowed to enter the lab one night. That had cost him chocolate pudding as an entrance fee and several hours of playing human light switch while Zelenka smirked at him but by the end of it, Rodney seemed almost to have forgotten that they were fighting so John considered it worth it.
The discovery of the Ancient satellite and the downed Wraith ship changed the situation somewhat. Travelling back together in the jumper with the bodies of Gaul and Abrams in the back made John determined not to wait any longer than he had to.
"You did good," he said softly, after about eight hours.
Rodney was staring out glumly into space, and startled at the sound.
"They both died," he said. "You almost died. I'm not sure how that counts as good."
"You saved me," John told him. "You came after me and you saved me." Rodney shrugged and went back to his staring, but he looked less glum and John allowed the glimmer of hope to flicker just that little bit stronger.
When they got back to Atlantis, he spent two hours on last minute adjustments and the following morning he emailed the program to Rodney.
~ ~
Rodney didn't mention it for two days. John was on tenterhooks the whole time. He only stopped himself from spending hours analysing Rodney's every word and gesture by practicing stick-fighting with Teyla. When she refused to fight with him any more, saying that it was too cruel, he went and stood in the shower for a long time before being interrupted by the door chime. Not allowing himself to hope, he hastily wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to open the door.
"Major, may I… oh," Rodney's voice faltered as he took in the sight of John in a towel.
"Come in," John said, stepping out of the way.
Rodney looked uncertain.
"I'm getting cold here," John pointed out, and Rodney moved into the room. When the door was closed, John slapped the lock as he headed back to the bathroom to put on some sweats. When he came out a few minutes later, he found Rodney poring over the notes on his desk.
"How long did it take you?" he demanded.
"A long time," John admitted.
"You're crazy, you know that?" Rodney asked, but he sounded amused and affectionate rather than accusatory. John felt the grin spreading across his face.
"In a good way," he said.
"What happened to your career?" Rodney looked determined, and John pulled a face.
"We're not on Earth now," he said with a shrug. "We can be discreet, the men won't find out."
"Everyone knows everything in this city," Rodney said.
"So we'll be discreet and if we ever get back in touch with Earth, you can use the time I spent in the court-martial I'll get for shooting Sumner to work out how to save me from a dishonourable discharge," John said. Rodney winced and opened his mouth to speak but John didn't let him.
"I don't care, Rodney. I don't care," John repeated, moving slowly towards the other man. Rodney pulled a face and looked at him, wary and turned on in about equal amounts.
John's breathing quickened. "What did the program show?" he asked.
"What?" Rodney asked. He was staring at John's lips, his own breathing speeding up to match John's.
"The program," John reminded him. "The one I emailed you, the one that made you come here?"
"We're the constants," Rodney said with the echo of old surprise in his voice. "All those variables but we're the constants."
"We can have this," John told him. There was a pause, and then Rodney nodded decisively and closed the gap between them.
John felt the same jolt go through him as last time as Rodney's mouth pressed against his. John slid his tongue over Rodney's lower lip and Rodney gasped, hands going to John's shoulders. John grabbed for him and suddenly they were stumbling over to the single bed, kissing desperately. John wanted to touch, he wanted to touch everywhere, he slid his hands up under Rodney's shirt until he reached a nipple, causing Rodney to mewl and buck against him. Rodney yanked for the hem of John's T-shirt, pulling it up and tugging sharply until John co-operated and removed it completely, leaving him clad only in a pair of sweats which were doing nothing to hide his arousal. Rodney stared greedily at him for a moment, breathing heavily, and John let him look.
"Fair's fair," he reminded, and began tugging at Rodney's belt as Rodney took care of the shirt.
They got a bit distracted at the feel of skin on skin. As soon as Rodney's shirt was off, John pushed him onto his back and kissed him hard, chest to chest, making both of them moan. Rodney's hands were on his back, sliding down to cup his ass through his sweats and John ground against him as Rodney slid his hands under the sweats. John left a trail of kisses along his jaw to his ear, and then moved lower, turning his attention to his nipples. John had fantasised about Rodney's nipples, and the first experimental lick made them both shudder. Rodney wriggled, pushing at John's hips until one of John's thighs was between his own. John closed his mouth over the nipple and sucked slowly and Rodney started rubbing against him, making a noise that almost made John come in his pants right there and then. John gasped and moved back to kiss him, rubbing himself against Rodney's thigh. This was great, this was awesome, this was…
"Clothes," he gasped.
Rodney stared at him, eyes dark with lust, and John separated them enough to fumble with Rodney's button-fly.
"God, yes," Rodney agreed, and took over that task as John got rid of his own sweats. Suddenly self-conscious, he hesitated for a moment as Rodney wriggled out of his own pants and stretched out on the bed, proudly and gloriously naked.
"Get over here," he told John, and John did as he was told. This time it was Rodney that took control, pushing him down onto the bed and kissing and biting at his chest where any marks would be hidden by his shirt. John groaned, running his hands all over Rodney's back, feeling the muscles shifting under his hands before sliding his hands down to Rodney's ass. Rodney took the hint and moved to kiss him again, taking his weight on his left elbow and moving his right hand to John's cock. He had big hands. John had known this intellectually but now he knew it physically. He made a thoroughly embarrassing sound and bucked his hips into Rodney's fist, moving so that they were on their sides and he could return the favour. Rodney's cock was hot and thick in his hand and he wanted to take time to explore it, enjoy it, but Rodney's hand was already moving again and John couldn't help speeding his own hand in response.
"God," Rodney groaned, and then he was coming, spurting onto John's hand and his belly and oh, and then John was coming himself, so hard he could see stars.
John exhaled shakily and lowered his head to rest on Rodney's chest as he shuddered through the last of the aftershocks. Rodney gently released his dick and slid his arms cautiously around John.
"Stupid Ancients and their tiny beds," he said by way of explanation, and John nodded sleepily and did something that was most definitely not snuggling.
They drowsed for a while, then Rodney shifted awkwardly and John made a complaining noise.
"Come on, move, it's cold," Rodney said, and John reluctantly moved away. Rodney got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. John regarded his stomach, then shrugged and moved to get under the blankets. Rodney reappeared with a damp cloth and swabbed half-heartedly at John's stomach before joining him in the bed again. John already knew that Rodney snored, and would have bet money on the fact that he hogged the covers as well, but as Rodney slapped off the light and moved in next to him, John just didn't care. It was warm, it was dark, he was comfortable and he was in Atlantis with Rodney by his side. Life was good.
End.
**
Poll Vote for this story
Author: emeraldsword
Team: Home
Prompt: Zero Tolerance
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: Adult
Warnings: None
Summary: In which Rodney keeps getting everyone arrested, Zelenka has cake-related schemes, Teyla has a saying and John has choices to make…
Author's notes: Thank you so much to gumbie_cat, lycoris, roaringmice and sabethea for being excellent betas! I'm extremely grateful to all of you for your extremely useful comments, critique and general support; all mistakes left are my own.
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 and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
Just occasionally, John forgot why he'd wanted McKay on his team. The mission to P3X-847 was one of those days.
"….unbearable. Biting insects, could be carrying any sort of evil alien parasite, not to mention they hurt!" McKay was flushed and swatting angrily at any of the midge-like things which dared to come anywhere near him. John now shared his unease with bugs (stupid Pegasus and its stupid monsters) but in the end he was pretty sure that these bugs were mostly harmless.
"I do not believe that these insects cause disease," Teyla said calmly. "There will be fewer of them when we come out from under the trees."
"I'm an astrophysicist!" McKay told her. John was fairly sure that Teyla had no idea what one of those was; from the look on Ford's face, he didn't think Teyla knew either, but McKay was already barrelling on. "Theoretical work, that's what I signed up to do, not hiking through mountains being attacked by wildlife!"
"It's not exactly a mountain, Doctor McKay," Ford pointed out. "I'd call this a hill."
"Are you a scientist? Are you a geographer? Then how would you know whether it's a hill or not?" McKay snapped.
"Looks like a hill to me," John observed in his mildest tone, one which he had already realised drove McKay absolutely nuts. "Teyla, do you think it's a hill?"
"The inhabitants of the village refer to it as such," Teyla informed him.
"Three to one," John told McKay.
"Three to one?" and it was strange that McKay wasn't panting harder, possibly the man was fitter than he thought himself. "Majority rule has nothing to do with this!" John was saved from having to answer that one as they crested the hill to see the village nestled in the valley in front of them.
"Down we go," John said, giving McKay a gentle little nudge with his shoulder. "And remember, McKay, we're here to make nice."
McKay sniffed.
"I am perfectly capable of that," he said loftily, and forged on ahead, ignoring John's raised eyebrow and Ford's barely-muffled cough of disbelief.
That was the first, although very far from the last, mission to wind up with them in the local prison. McKay panicked solidly for twenty minutes, which didn't stop him working out how to Macgyver a sort of pulley-winch device allowing them, with much effort on the part of John and Ford, to raise Teyla up to the roof where she was able to break through the strange combination of wood and thatch and wriggle through into freedom. Once she was out, it took ten minutes (during which McKay kept up a steady litany of things that could have happened to her to prevent her rescuing them) for them to be out as well. Though the journey to the Stargate was more eventful than John would really have liked, everyone got through it more or less unscathed, for once the Wraith didn't show up and John didn't have to count the mission as a complete disaster.
~ ~
As if the Wraith weren't giving them enough to worry about, once McKay had started getting them arrested he just couldn't seem to stop. Even Teyla looked annoyed when they were dragged through the streets to the local prison for the third time running.
"I believe our missions would progress better if you could learn to curb your tongue," she said sharply to McKay as the door slammed shut behind them.
"I only gave them some constructive criticism," McKay informed her, staring around the small and dirty cell in disgust.
"There is a difference between constructive criticism and calculated rudeness," Teyla said, moving swiftly towards the small window set high on the far wall. "Aidan, could you help me? I wish to examine this window."
Ford followed her over and boosted her up so she could check the bars.
"Well then," John said, before McKay could settle too far into the sulky silence which he tended to develop when he recognised that he might have been wrong but didn't want to admit it. "Any escape plans?"
"None that immediately spring to mind," McKay said, watching as Teyla cautiously and methodically tested each bar in turn. "However…" he said, brightening up slightly, and he was off and running, tossing ideas left, right and centre and leaving John to pick and choose which ones to try.
"Another day, another great escape," John said philosophically as he and Ford attempted to support a structure made of bedsprings and a very mangy blanket for long enough for Teyla to get a safe purchase on the ceiling beam, which she was supposed to swing along to the high but large for a prison cell window, smash it with the sole of her boot and then wriggle through. Looking at the resigned expression on her face, John suspected that she wasn't expecting this plan to be very successful. Judging by the look on Ford's face, he didn't expect it either. Personally, John would have preferred to be the one swinging along the ceiling but Rodney had pointed out that Teyla was more likely to fit through the window than John was, and anyway, there was no point in getting someone out if they were too directionally challenged to return and rescue everyone. John had pouted, and McKay had presented him with the blanket and told him to hold still.
At that point, the blanket ripped. Teyla lost her tenuous hold on the beam and it was more by luck than judgement that Ford managed to catch her. McKay sighed the sigh of those who are surrounded by idiots, and began inspecting the remains of the blanket.
~
In the end, an escape wasn't actually required as the villagers returned after three hours.
"A verdict has been reached," an upsettingly muscular man told John. "We will not tolerate him here." He pointed at McKay for emphasis, though it had been perfectly clear who he meant. "You will take him and leave."
At that, Teyla and John stopped their casual drift in front of McKay, and Teyla asked:
"What of our equipment?"
"You will find it waiting for you at the ring," the man told them.
"What happens if we come back?" inquired John.
"Doctor McKay will not be allowed to remain," the man said implacably.
"I mean, if we come back without Doctor McKay," John clarified, ignoring Rodney's hurt expression.
"If you come back without Doctor McKay, an agreement may be possible."
"Right, well, we'll be off then. Glad we had this chat," said John. He took point, jerking his head at the others who fell in behind him, Teyla and Ford subtly manoeuvring to put McKay in the centre of their formation. The villagers watched them go in silence.
~
Needless to say, Elizabeth was not pleased by the way that the mission had ended.
"We are short enough of friends in this galaxy," she said. "We cannot afford to make more enemies."
"I do not believe that we have made a new enemy," Teyla said smoothly. "The leader indicated that a return without Doctor McKay might meet with some success, though I would recommend a gift as a goodwill gesture before reopening negotiations."
"Okay. In that case, John, if you could select a temporary fourth to go with you, Teyla and Aidan to try and establish trade, then we'll run that."
"You're grounding me?" McKay exclaimed. "For one mistake?"
"If the Halluunan won't trade with you, they won't trade with you," Elizabeth said, not as sharply as she might have done. "I'm sorry Rodney, but we need all the allies we can get. Once we've established a trading relationship, any future missions to P3C-729 will be assigned to another team, but for now we need SGA-1."
John shifted slightly in his chair, once again regretting his lack of experience with the Stargate program because McKay looked crushed. He barely spoke for the rest of the meeting and hurried away when Elizabeth finally called it to a close.
When John didn't see him in the mess that evening, he decided to drop by the lab. McKay was frowning, absorbed in his work and the empty lab felt unusually silent. John stood for a moment, a funny twist under his ribs, waiting for McKay to notice him. When the other man showed no signs of doing so, John cleared his throat.
"You been here since the meeting?" he asked. McKay jumped as if he'd been shot.
"What are you doing, sneaking up on me? Don't you have better things to do than sneak up on people, people who are actually doing something useful?"
"Nope," said John, simply. "Lab's empty, McKay. Time to call it a night."
"Genius cannot be bound by mundanities such as time," McKay told him with a sniff, but he was already starting to save his work and clear up the general detritus that tended to surround him when he'd been working for a long period. John watched quietly, letting McKay's complaining drift over him.
"You wanna watch a movie?" he asked. It was hard to say whether he or McKay was more surprised.
"What?" McKay asked, sounding both sceptical and hopeful all at once. John over-rode the bits of his brain that were screaming 'bad idea' to say,
"A movie?" He even managed an eyebrow raise which he hoped would convey 'you don't know what a movie is' but suspected was just making him look insecure.
"I'm pretty sure I don't want to watch any movie you'd choose," McKay said, sounding cheerful. "But I'm sure I've got something worth re-watching for the millionth time and I suppose you could join me if you want to."
"Lead on," John said. And that was how they ended up sprawled on a pile of blankets on McKay's floor, not so much watching a film as bickering gently in its general direction. When John woke up fully-dressed and grubby on the floor next morning, Rodney flat-out and snoring next to him, he wasn't even surprised. He left Rodney a note saying 'your back, your floor, your fault,' and went back to his own quarters to shower and prepare for their next attempt at making a treaty with P3C-729.
~
Without McKay in tow, the mission went smoothly, even if it was one of the most boring missions that John had ever been on. A part of him would have welcomed the Wraith just for some action, though the fact that they didn't show probably meant that the problem really had been Teyla's pendant rather than a spy. The debrief seemed even longer than the mission, something which John would have sworn wasn't possible. On the pretext of asking McKay a question about subjective time dilation fields, John made his way to the lab when Elizabeth FINALLY let them go. He was surprised to find McKay and Zelenka bickering over off-world missions.
"What'cha doin?" he asked, ambling up behind them to peer at the screen.
"He is running a betting pool on our imminent demise!" McKay told him shrilly.
John blinked.
"That's not very nice," he said to Zelenka. "We're doing fine so far."
"If by 'fine', you mean 'constantly in prison'," the Czech told him. "It is not true, anyway. I do not wish you ill, Major, I merely observed that your team is leading the incarceration table," ("Incarceration table?" mouthed John,) "and Rodney attempted to dispute this."
"I'm a little concerned by the keeping of statistics," John said.
"Is scientific," Zelenka told him. "Also, it annoys Rodney greatly, which is more important."
"Hello, I'm standing right here," snapped McKay. "And the Major is right, there must be a better use of the data than this, not to mention your time."
"If you are imprisoned on your next off-world mission, I win two lemon cake-bars," Zelenka told him. "Cake is best use of data there is."
"And what are you actually here for anyway?" McKay said, staring at John. "The Halluunan didn't prove as obliging as you'd hoped?"
"Apparently to provide cake and comedy," John said. "Lunch?"
"I suppose a break from these idiots might do me some good," Rodney said, but without heat. Zelenka said something almost certainly mildly unpleasant in Czech and turned back to his own workstation, thereby missing the face McKay pulled at his back. John surprised both of them by laughing out loud.
"Come on, Rodney. Get there early, maybe you can get double your share of pudding." McKay gave him a strange look but fell into step beside him cheerfully enough.
~~
On M8C-762, a misunderstanding about a goat and a not-quite hasty enough exit on McKay's part resulted in yet another jail cell. John took comfort in the fact that Teyla and Ford seemed to have managed to get away, and began to check out his surroundings. It was only after he had spent ten fruitless minutes examining the windowless basement selected as the prison cell of the week that he registered McKay's silence. Frowning, he turned to look at him, and was surprised to see him settled against a relatively clean piece of wall, tapping away at his data pad.
"Um, a little help, please?" he asked. McKay looked up.
"With what?" He gestured around the room. "Windowless cell, tiny air vents, lit by flaming torches that are really more smouldering than flaming anyway but would still set you on fire if you tried to get them out of those brackets, and the door is locked with bolts. We're not getting out of here without outside assistance so why waste energy trying?" And McKay turned his attention back to his data pad.
John scowled. "These torches…" he began.
"Don't even think about it," McKay told him, without looking up. "Far too firmly bolted to the walls for you to have any hope of getting them loose - all you'll do is singe your hair and put the already inadequate lights out." He smirked. "Not that it wouldn't be amusing to see something happen to your hair, but the negatives outweigh the positives. Face it, Major, we're waiting."
"Something you are usually more concerned about," John pointed out. "Unless you've learned to gracefully accept the inevitable…"
McKay snorted, which raised John's spirits slightly.
"No, I've found a better use for that data." At John's blank look, Rodney gave him glare number five, 'you are being slow, even for you.' "The mission data he's been analysing instead of working."
"The lemon cake bars," John said, earning himself glare number seven, 'talking to you is only marginally better than talking to myself.'
"We're calling it the Expected Release Calculator; you just enter the details of your current situation into the program and it analyses the variables to predict when you'll be released."
"So?" John said.
"Is that all you can say? It may sound simple to the uneducated but, thanks to the sheer volume of variables, this is actually an extremely complex…"
"So when does it say we'll be out of here?" John asked patiently.
"Oh." McKay looked mollified and began feverishly tapping away again. "Well, windowless basement, no other exits, no electronics, Teyla and Ford not captured as far as we know…oh."
McKay looked crestfallen, and John grabbed for the tablet.
"Ten days?" he exclaimed. McKay grabbed it right back and began editing the data.
"If Teyla were in here with us it would be twenty," he said with what John felt was an inappropriate note of triumph.
"Give me that," John took the data pad and began scanning through the program.
"You put the variables in here…" McKay began and the two bickered until their release six hours later.
~ ~
Planet of the Kids, as McKay called it and 'the one where McKay stole from children' as Ford liked to call it ("How very FRIENDS of you," McKay said. "Oh. My Gaahhhd," John said, causing McKay to stare at him in horror and Ford to burst out in a what could only be described as a giggle) and its aftermath kept John rather busy, though not half as busy as the encounter with the Genii a few weeks later did, and John didn't think about the Expected Release Calculator again until they were trapped in a cave by a rock fall. After McKay had ranted for fifteen minutes about structural integrity, lack of oxygen/food/water, the possibility of dangerous macro/micro fauna plus a few other things and had started to repeat himself, John interrupted with,
"You still got that gizmo?"
"What gizmo?" called Ford from the back of the cave where he was cautiously checking for alternative exits and predatory animals in what John suspected were pretty much equal amounts.
"The Great Escape gizmo," John told him, methodically checking the collapsed rock face for weak spots.
"A device which will help us to escape?" asked Teyla, but John suspected that she'd grown used to him now because she continued checking for exits despite the cut on her arm which was still oozing blood despite being staunched with a (fairly grubby) bandage.
"No, it's the Expected Release Calculator," McKay said, sounding irritated instead of panicky, which was what John had been aiming for. "You put in the…"
"Skip this bit," John told him. "Get putting already." He couldn't see very well through the dim light but he could feel McKay glaring at him. "Either that or get over here and help me haul rocks," John said, as his fingers found something that might just be a weakness. Teyla and Ford immediately moved over to help, and McKay sniffed.
"It's not really worth it if you've already found a way out," he said, standing far enough away from the heavy lifting not to actually have to do any, but close enough to direct operations. "I'll just write it up later to add to the data it draws on for next time. Move the one on the left next."
"You update it?" John said, slightly breathlessly thanks to the very large rock he and Ford were attempting to rock out of position.
"Well, of course - it's not exactly the most accurate thing, is it? The more data it has, the more reliable it will be." McKay pointed out, moving almost absent-mindedly to help Teyla enlarge the hole through which a small shaft of daylight was slowly becoming visible.
"So that thing can really tell you when you're going to get out of somewhere?" Ford asked sceptically as McKay boosted Teyla up to try and wriggle through the hole they'd made.
"It analyses the variables and predicts the most likely outcome," McKay said, dodging as Teyla's boot nearly caught him in the face. "Obviously, it doesn't predict the future. Though, it would be a lot more successful if this galaxy weren't so inherently unpredictable. Farmers with nukes," he muttered.
"So, you run that program and then decide whether or not to try and escape? Sounds like a pointless waste of time to me," Ford said.
"This route is sound," Teyla reported. "The drop on the other side is not far, and I believe we will be able to make it out safely."
"Boost me up next," John commanded. "Then McKay, and Ford, you last." McKay muttered something incomprehensible. John suspected it to be a mixture of irritation with Ford's disinterest in the scientific approach and resentment at not being next out. John threw a rather large rock down just close enough to make the other man jump.
"While I'm up here, might as well widen it," he pointed out sweetly. Ford was grinning slightly and McKay was clearly sulking now. John made sure to throw the rest of the debris outside, rather than inside the cave, lessening the drop slightly. When he judged that McKay would be able to fit through, he moved out into the fresh air and took a position which would help get McKay down as quickly and safely as possible. McKay emerged with more grace, and more swearing, than John had expected, but he emerged and grumbled all the way back to the jumper, which John took as a good sign.
~ ~
M5C-539 brought a new hazard to the floor. Much to John's surprise (and probable embarrassment, if everything hadn't been so warm and fuzzy and nice), he found himself being half-carried back to the jumper by a long suffering McKay.
"I know you can walk better than this," Rodney told him, irritation and amusement mingling in his voice. "You're just not trying. And how does a man as thin as you manage to weigh so damn much? Even you don't have that much hair."
"Like my hair," John told him, trying and failing to pick his feet up more. "Why so fast?"
"We're not going fast, you are going exceptionally slowly," Rodney informed him.
"We believe you ate one of the ke-to," Teyla told him. "They have this effect on those who are not accustomed to them."
"They were nice," agreed John. "Nice, nice, nice." Rodney snorted in what could have been amusement.
"Yes Major, everyone knows how nice you think everything is right now," he said. "Personally, I think you could use another adjective - you claim to be reading War and Peace! Though, I found very little 'nice' about Russia so I suppose it's not a word they'd use often." He stopped and attempted to readjust John's weight slightly, trying to use the arm John had slung over Rodney's shoulders as a sort of lever. John settled himself more comfortably into Rodney's side and Rodney sighed slightly but started moving again.
"Do you want any help, Sir?" Ford asked. He had a funny expression on his face, halfway between amusement and deep embarrassment, and even in John's state he could see that the last thing he wanted was to be taken up on his offer.
"He's fine, Lieutenant," Rodney said. "High as a kite and heavy as hell, but if you dislodge him now we'll probably never get him moving again."
"Will so," John said determinedly. He made a half-hearted attempt to stand unaided but Rodney had clearly been prepared for that one and John was really too happy to go round proving points.
"Teyla ate one of those cakes!" John told Ford. "I saw her!"
"But I am accustomed to them," Teyla told him. She and Ford exchanged amused glances and John pouted slightly, anchoring himself more firmly against Rodney's side because the world was spinning a bit too much for a safe dismount and Rodney might get some ideas about dropping him. John tried to take more of his own weight.
"We going home now?" he asked, somewhat plaintively.
"No, I'm just carrying you all over this desolate rock of a planet for the good of my health."
John giggled.
"Kyritoth is regarded as one of the most civilised worlds." Teyla said, somewhat coldly.
Ford started laughing and Rodney sent him a killer glare. Ford was accustomed to these by now and took no notice, which only made Rodney glare harder.
"Oh, for…. All right, it's fine, it's lovely, it's the nicest planet I've been to all day and yes, we are going home now." Rodney said, as the spot where they had left the jumper came into view. "You'll have to let go now Major," Rodney told him. "Ford can't fly them, remember?"
"Poor Ford," John said, watching as Teyla operated the device to make the cloak disappear and the jumper shimmered into view. Then they were somehow in the cockpit and Rodney abandoned him in the co-pilot's chair to chart a very bumpy course back to the gate. By the time they got home to Atlantis, John felt considerably less happy and considerably more nauseous. He managed to avoid being confined to the infirmary and spent the remainder of the day hiding in his office trying not to throw up and swearing never to eat anything off world ever again. Ford had come in at one point, but had left, looking sympathetic and far too amused, when John had threatened to shoot him for thinking too loudly about food. He was slumped over his desk, half-dozing and calculating and recalculating the chances of getting to his quarters safely and uninterrupted when he heard the door open.
"Major?" Rodney said, and somehow John wasn't even surprised.
"If I said no, would you go away?" he asked.
Rodney made a quiet noise of amusement. "I brought you a power bar," he said. "Easy on the stomach."
"I don't want it," John said, but somehow found himself sitting up and eating it anyway.
"You want to watch a movie?" Rodney asked, and John smiled despite himself.
"Only if I get to pick," he said.
"I'm really not sure that anything you've got will be worth watching," Rodney told him, looking hopeful. "But I suppose it's my duty to make sure you don't mope yourself to death."
"I'm hung over!" John pointed out.
Rodney sniffed. "If you say so." He didn't quite resort to saying 'la la la I can't hear you,' but he did change the subject so effectively that John barely noticed that they were going to Rodney's quarters rather than his own. Wishing very strongly for a couch, John helped Rodney arrange the room and then flopped down on the big pile of blankets.
The problem with being sprawled on the floor was that John couldn't keep his eyes open. He was woken by the silence when the credits rolled, and found that not only had he wound up flat on the floor, his head was pillowed on Rodney's thigh. He sat up quickly, rubbing a hand across his face.
"Thank God for that," Rodney said, standing quickly and awkwardly and heading for the bathroom. The moment the door closed behind him, John got to his feet and left.
~
If Rodney had any opinions about that evening, he didn't share them. John didn't avoid him as such, but he made sure to only see the scientist in public areas and Rodney didn't make any attempt to seek him out. John did overhear half a discussion between him and Zelenka in the mess ("If we start adding hallucinogens into the mix, the variables will take forever to compute!" "You cannot just miss out data because you don't like it!" "It's supposed to be a useful field tool, not an interesting academic exercise!" "This is not useful tool, this is distraction." "Fine, but if we add hallucinogens we have to add anaphylaxis, not to mention…") which proved that the mission had not been forgotten but seemed to indicate that it had been forgiven, and also proved that the Great Escape Generator might well be in need of a version 2.0. In an attempt to avoid paperwork, John scribbled down a few thoughts on it, and quickly saw why Rodney and Zelenka had seized onto it as an excellent diversion - it really was a lot more complicated than it originally appeared. He was halfway through working the whole thing out from first principles when he was interrupted by the need to prepare for the mission to M5S-224.
Earth. Back to Earth.
"Home," Rodney said wistfully. "Teyla, you'll love it, I swear. You can meet my cat…OK, well, maybe that's not the most exciting thing you can imagine but I'm sure the Major here will have nine million ideas about risky adrenaline rushes you can endure, but my cat is really… I'd hate to say nice, exactly, she's not a pushover…"
"Keep this up, McKay, and I'm going to have to make a joke about you being pussy-whipped," John drawled, causing Ford to snort drink out of his nose and Teyla to look confused. Then, of course, John had to explain the reference. He looked at Rodney for help, but Rodney just smirked and said:
"You got yourself into it, you can get yourself out."
"Rather an unfortunate choice of wording," Teyla observed, looking extremely innocent. Ford turned crimson and John howled with laughter.
Rodney shook his head, but he was grinning helplessly. "Yes, yes, very funny," he said. "When I get home I plan to eat the largest pizza I can find."
"Burgers," Ford said immediately. "Real burgers with fries and loads of sauce."
"Oh, and Twinkies," Rodney said. Teyla and John exchanged amused glances.
"What will you do on your return to Earth?" Teyla asked. John shrugged. 'Get court-martialled,' he thought.
"I guess I'll just play it by ear," he said.
"Oh, come on, you must have something you want to do," Rodney said.
"Yeah, Sir, there must be something," Ford agreed. John shrugged again.
"I'd kinda like another book. I'm on schedule with War and Peace, but it'd be nice to have something to break it up a bit," he said. Both Rodney and Ford rolled their eyes.
"You are crazy," Rodney told him. "Your lack of interest in food quite frankly disturbs me."
"The Star Wars prequels," John said. "Gotta see whether film 3 was as bad as the others."
"Oh, I don't know, Attack of the Clones did have some redeeming features," Rodney said thoughtfully.
"It did not!" exclaimed John and Ford in unison.
Teyla sat back to watch, looking amused as Ford and John fired points at Rodney, who countered them with much hand waving. John found himself grinning as the back-and-forth between them got more and more spirited. Rodney eventually appealed to Teyla.
"You've seen it, what did you think?"
"I do not believe I feel these things as deeply as you do," Teyla said. "However, I would very much like some of the tools used by Jango Fett. They are not entirely honourable, perhaps, but they would indeed be handy."
"Teyla agrees with me!" Rodney said triumphantly.
"Teyla does nothing of the kind!" John said, and the discussion continued.
When he finally had to return to work, John found that even discussing Star Wars hadn't quelled his doubts about returning to Earth. If anything, it had intensified them. He pushed his thoughts determinedly aside and actually started to get his paperwork in order so that whoever took over would have nothing to complain about.
~
Something so far inside John he liked to pretend it wasn't there was relieved when it turned out that they couldn't actually get back to Earth after all. Explanations, court-martials, reassignment, all delayed a bit longer. But now, John was aware that the clock was ticking. Sure, the missions they'd been going on had always had the primary aim of "find a ZPM so we can go home," and OK they'd had secondary aims as well, aims they'd managed to fulfil much more successfully, but that wasn't what they were supposed to be doing. John was supposed to be in charge of finding a way out of this galaxy, and the irony that, if given a choice, he'd choose to stay, was not one that was lost on him.
~~~
The first mission after the storm was strange. Rodney was quieter than usual, his movements slightly jerky even though Beckett had released him for duty and John knew that the arm didn't hurt him any more. His complaints lacked their usual energy; if it had been anyone else John would have wondered whether or not they were just complaining because that was what was expected of them, but this was Rodney and complaining came as naturally to him as breathing. Whatever was going on, the whole team dynamic was off somehow, and perhaps it was because of this that Rodney drank one (or two) too many glasses of the local brew.
"You OK, buddy?" John asked. Rodney was slumped right over, almost bent in two, and staring unseeingly at his almost-empty glass.
"I don't know," Rodney said, not looking up. "I have no idea. You tell me." He looked up then, meeting John's eyes with a surprisingly steady gaze even as he completely failed to put his glass onto the bench beside him. He didn't even react when it smashed on the floor and the beer splashed over his boots.
"Maybe we should get you some air," John said. Rodney nodded and got to his feet. He staggered slightly, and put a hand to his head.
"Guess that stuff was stronger than I thought," he said woozily.
"This way," John said, putting out an arm as Rodney staggered again. Rodney shook him off and they made silent and unsteady progress towards the external door. After the heat of the hall, the cold air hit John like a slap in the face. He breathed deeply, pulling in the smells of an alien world, the familiar undertones of mud and sweat overlaid with spices and the scent of flowers John couldn't begin to identify. He took another breath, recognising the fact that he himself was not as sober as he'd thought, and then set off after Rodney who was headed determinedly in the direction of a wall-bench thing barely visible at the far end of the courtyard. He reached it without incident, though he sat down so heavily he almost fell off backwards. He righted himself quickly and gave John a belligerent glare.
"Fresh air," John said, seating himself cautiously next to Rodney. "Clear your head."
"My head is perfectly…" began Rodney. He trailed off partway through and for a moment John thought he was going to throw up and regretted having sat so close. He could deal with vomit, but he'd rather not have to.
"You OK?" he asked in alarm. He realised his mistake when, instead of throwing up, Rodney rounded on him.
"Do I look OK to you? You have a brain under all that hair, not to mention some extremely well-honed fighting skills which I am grateful for because if we'd lost Elizabeth…" He broke off for a moment and John tried to jump in but Rodney was already barrelling on. "I mean, there I was, and you…" he waved a hand around in what John assumed meant 'killed 55 people with one push of a button' but could equally have meant 'behaved in an incredibly stupid and reckless manner which I will forgive this one time because it actually paid off.' Whichever he meant, he overbalanced and almost fell off the wall again.
"You did good," John said hastily. "Seriously. You're OK, you know you are." Rodney exhaled heavily and slumped again, all the fight going out of him. John patted him awkwardly on the nearest place he could reach, which happened to be Rodney's thigh. Rodney was still for a moment, then placed his own hand over John's. John's ribs clenched as Rodney turned to face him, bringing his hand to cup John's jaw gently as he leaned in.
When their lips met, John felt a shock right through him. He froze for a second, his grip tightening on Rodney's thigh, and then he kissed back, hard. The kiss got hot and dirty fast. Rodney's hand was at the back of John's neck, fingers in his hair, thumb stroking his ear. Not to be outdone, John slid his own hand up Rodney's thigh to rest on his waist, under his shirt. One of them moaned, John had the suspicion it might have been him but he didn't care because, god, Rodney.
"Major Sheppard. Doctor McKay."
The unfamiliar voice cut sharply through the sex-haze surrounding them. John jerked away, snapping his head towards the source of the sound so sharply he unbalanced them both and Rodney went sprawling on the floor. Facing them was the village elder, with a face like thunder.
"We have zero tolerance for this sort of behaviour," he told them. "Your kind are not welcome here. You and your team will leave at first light and you will not return." Rodney got clumsily to his feet.
"But…" he began.
"Leave it, McKay," John snapped. He stood abruptly, hands clenched by his sides. "Let's find Teyla and Ford." He waiting just long enough to see that Rodney was following before stalking back indoors. The crowd parted as he went in, whether because of his new-found notoriety or his barely-concealed rage, he wasn't sure. Teyla caught his eye and began heading over immediately.
"No deal," he told her. "We leave at first light. Where's Ford?"
"I will find him," Teyla said. The elder stepped forward.
"You will accompany these men to the room you have been allocated," he told her. "Your colleague will be brought to you." Teyla looked startled, but one glance at John's steely expression and Rodney's shell-shocked face convinced her to keep silent.
~
The room was conspicuously nicer than previous cells, possibly because it hadn't been intended for the purpose, but the guards were even more heavily-armed than usual and looked distinctly annoyed about having to be there. John forced himself to keep his head up but couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. The door slammed, blocking out their stares, and Rodney flopped heavily across the nearest bed, face hidden. John headed over to the window and stared blindly out, forcing his hands into his pockets in case the shaking gave him away. Teyla said nothing, merely seated herself on the edge of one of the beds.
A few minutes later the door banged open and Ford was thrown in, red-faced and spluttering.
"What the hell?" he asked.
"Turns out the Zalunans don't allow homosexuals," said John through clenched teeth. "It's a one strike policy. Fags equals no deal." Even the poor reflection in the murky glass of the window allowed John to see Ford's eyes dart to McKay.
"We'll be leaving at first light and no one will be coming back," John told them.
Ford made a frustrated noise.
"Get some sleep," John told him. He was ready to make it an order, but thankfully Ford just went over to one of the two remaining beds and lay down. Teyla followed suit, but John stood at the window and watched the light change.
As soon as there was enough light for them to find their way safely back to the gate, John woke them. Everyone looked subdued and pale. Rodney had beard burn; he also had what looked to be the hangover from hell, which John hoped would distract from it somewhat.
The guards were only too happy to show them off-world. John set a brisk pace back to the gate and no-one said a word.
"Cultural differences," was all John said when Elizabeth asked what had happened.
~ ~
John didn't see Rodney for almost a week. He wasn't sure whether to not the other man was avoiding him because he himself was making sure he had to spend as little time with McKay as possible.
The next mission was beyond awkward. McKay was making a determined effort to pretend that nothing had ever happened but his usual ranting had reduced to a sort of mutter, not directed at anyone and he kept trailing off mid-sentence. Ford and Teyla were clearly uncomfortable, and kept exchanging glances and looking at John when they thought he couldn't see. John put Teyla on point and took six himself to avoid them. Ford and McKay kept pace in the centre for a while, but then McKay dropped back.
"Call off your dog," he said in a low voice. John wasn't sure which surprised him most, the fact that McKay was talking to him or the venom in his voice.
"What?" he said.
"You heard me," McKay said. "Tell Lieutenant Ford to keep his opinions to himself."
"I…" John began.
"You know exactly what I mean!" McKay yelled. Teyla and Ford both stopped and looked around; John waved them on with a quick stab of his hand.
"I've let you pretend," McKay said quietly. "I'm not going to say anything but I will not stand for being treated like shit by some callow little grunt. So sort him out."
"Rodney,"
"I don't want to hear it," Rodney said, sounding tired. "Just tell Ford to knock it off."
John blew out a frustrated breath.
"OK," he said.
Once they were at the village, he took Ford aside.
"Any issues you have with Doctor McKay can't affect the team," he said, face as blank as possible. "We've all made mistakes, so leave this one alone." He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering whether there were prizes for getting the maximum of management-speak into the minimum of words.
"That's not…" Ford began. John opened his eyes and frowned slightly.
Ford looked frustrated but his voice was steady when he said,
"Yes, Sir."
~ ~
Thankfully uneventful mission and unnecessarily long debrief later, John was heading for his quarters to shower and pretend this day had never happened when Teyla fell into step beside him.
"I wish to discuss with you the incident on Zaluna," she said.
"I don't think any discussion is necessary," John said calmly, not breaking stride.
"Distaste for homosexuals is natural but we cannot allow our feelings about Doctor McKay's proclivities to affect the working of the team," Teyla told him. "I do not wish to endure another mission like today's."
"That's not what this is about," said John, startled. "McKay's Canadian, he can kiss whoever he wants."
Teyla frowned. "What does his country have to do with it?"
"In Canada, homosexuals can even get married," John paused, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "The Athosians have taboos on homosexuality?"
Teyla looked as though she was choosing her words carefully.
"There is a saying," she told him. "A man who supports his wife and child may do what he likes on feast days."
"Ah," said John. "American military has 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'."
"So, Doctor McKay's behaviour on Zaluna was acceptable to your people but yours was not."
John stumbled and stopped in the middle of the corridor, face turning crimson. "What?" he asked, voice low, glancing up and down the corridor and feeling an overwhelming rush of relief when he realised it was empty.
Teyla gave him a look he couldn't decipher. "Aidan and I are not blind, John, nor are we stupid. It was unkind of you to imply that Rodney alone was responsible for the incident on Zaluna."
"I…" John said, and swallowed. "I could lose my job. Lose everything."
Teyla's expression softened somewhat but she waited in silence.
"Atlantis is my home now," he said. "I don't want to jeopardise that."
"For this to be home, it must have family. You may never regain contact with Earth, and I am sure that if you do, Elizabeth would not allow you to be forced to leave against your will. We would not allow you to leave."
John looked at her cautiously.
"You do not support a wife, but you support the city and that is enough," Teyla told him. "I will speak to Aidan and he will make sure that nobody asks." She smiled, a strained smile that did not quite reach her eyes but a smile nonetheless, and walked away.
John scrubbed a hand through his hair, thinking about the fact that he had nothing to tell.
~ ~
He thought about that for a couple of days, then manoeuvred the situation so that he and Rodney found themselves alone in a transporter. John pressed the button to transport them out to the East Pier and just as quickly activated the locking mechanism, hoping that Rodney hadn't seen what he'd done. He took a breath, steeling himself.
"So, I've been kind of a jerk," he began awkwardly. Rodney looked startled, glanced at the controls and then glared at him.
"Kind of?" he spluttered. "You leave me to take all of the blame for what was, in hindsight, a totally foreseeable and avoidable disaster of a mission, completely humiliate me and you think you might have been kind of a jerk? Oh, and now you're kidnapping me!"
"OK, a lot. I was a lot of a jerk. And I'm not kidnapping you, I just want you to hear me out without being interrupted."
"I have no interest in hearing anything you could possible have to say." Rodney's tone was final, and John said urgently,
"Look, I panicked, OK? I could lose my job over this, Rodney!"
"Elizabeth would never let that happen," Rodney said dismissively. "But luckily for you, there is no 'this' for you to lose your job over. Now, will you let me out?"
"I came in from nowhere and killed their commanding officer. Elizabeth can say what she likes." John shook his head, forcing himself to get back on track. "Give me another chance, Rodney," he said softly. "Please."
Rodney's face was a mass of expressions but the one he settled on was angry.
"I don't know what your problem is, Major, but I don't want to be a part of it. Now, if you've finished holding me hostage, some of us have real work to do." He stepped around John to the controls, took them to the labs and unlocked the doors. John stood still as Rodney barrelled past him. When the doors closed, he punched the wall.
~
John went back to his quarters but instead of showering he went for a run, deliberately taking a route that took him far away from the inhabited areas. He set a deliberately punishing pace, determined to drive all thoughts of Rodney and Zaluna out of his head.
He wasn't surprised when he wound up at Grounding Station 3. They'd repaired it enough, but the marks were still there. John sat on some debris, trying not to imagine Rodney's blood on the floor. As soon as he'd caught his breath, he headed back to his quarters. He showered and headed to his office, a man with a plan.
~ ~
"Um, Sir, what are you doing?"
John backed out from under the desk, clutching another pile of papers that weren't what he was looking for.
"The Great Escape Generator," he said.
Ford blinked. "That thing of McKay's?" he said, somewhat cautiously. "What about it?"
"I had notes about it here somewhere," John said. "If I could just remember where I put them."
Ford shrugged.
"You write all over everything and most of it's meaningless," he said. "No offence, Sir," he added quickly, as John raised an eyebrow. "Have you tried the back of the report you wrote on that world?"
John sighed. "A paperless base. Why did we even bring this much crap through the Stargate?" he asked.
"We traded for it on P4C-236," Ford said dryly. "Mistranslation," he explained, when John gave him a baffled look.
"Riiight," John said. "OK, new plan, start over."
"Why don't you ask McKay for it?"
"Can't do that, Lieutenant. More than my life's worth," John said. "Since when did you start doing my paperwork anyway?" he asked.
"Since I realised that no one else even knows this room is here." John gave him a look and Ford had the grace to look sheepish. John gave him the task of sorting all the papers into date order with specific instructions to look out for the Great Escape calculations ("And that's an order, Lieutenant,") while he himself went to pursue a different line of enquiry.
~
Zelenka gave him a beady-eyed stare.
"And for what purpose would you need this?" he asked. "You opposed the keeping of statistics."
"I'm coming to reconsider my stance," John said cautiously. "Besides, it's not exactly the statistics I want."
"You wish to profit from the fruits of my labours," Zelenka told him.
"I wouldn't call it that," John hedged.
"No? Then what would you call it?" Zelenka asked sweetly. When John didn't answer, he continued. "I have put much time into this."
"I'm sure we can come to some agreement," John said.
"I have found that items containing citrus tend to last the longest in my work environment," Zelenka said. "Curious, this. However, chocolate will also be acceptable."
"How about if I spend five evenings working on the jumpers with you?" John said, thinking of the rapidly-dwindling supply of chocolate in his quarters, at least some of which he was going to use to placate Rodney.
"In addition to snack food, this would be excellent," Zelenka said. There was a glint in his eye that told John this was about the best he was going to get.
"You drive a hard bargain," he said, grudgingly.
"Rodney has been unbearable recently. Does not take genius to realise why," Zelenka's smile suddenly seemed to contain a great many teeth. "You owe me more than 15 hours of jumper maintenance and some confectionary, but this will do for now." He turned to walk away.
"The files?" John said.
"They will be in your inbox this afternoon," Zelenka told him. John gave him a lemon cake bar to seal the deal, and headed off to check his emails.
~
The files came through as promised, along with a little cartoon of John being at least three-quarters hair and extremely confused. John snorted, and spent the next week working on the program in every spare minute. The ideas he'd developed before began to come back to him, and the fact that he didn't want or need half of the variables McKay and Zelenka seemed to feel were vital (what colour uniform the guards were wearing?) and was, in fact, aiming for a different result, helped speed things up a little. It still took him longer than he'd like to get a version he was even halfway satisfied with, but he was almost there by the time he and the team had to go on another mission.
After their confrontation in the transporter, John had made a determined effort to be as normal as possible with Rodney, and he had been somewhat surprised to find that the other man responded. John suspected that Teyla might well have made her general displeasure with the team situation known to Rodney as well; certainly Rodney came to any and all team bonding exercises that John saw fit to organise with only minimal grumbling. The fact that the team bonding exercises now tended to involve either food or movies and avoided exercise might also have something to do with this. Whatever the cause, the team dynamic was somewhat restored and John had even been allowed to enter the lab one night. That had cost him chocolate pudding as an entrance fee and several hours of playing human light switch while Zelenka smirked at him but by the end of it, Rodney seemed almost to have forgotten that they were fighting so John considered it worth it.
The discovery of the Ancient satellite and the downed Wraith ship changed the situation somewhat. Travelling back together in the jumper with the bodies of Gaul and Abrams in the back made John determined not to wait any longer than he had to.
"You did good," he said softly, after about eight hours.
Rodney was staring out glumly into space, and startled at the sound.
"They both died," he said. "You almost died. I'm not sure how that counts as good."
"You saved me," John told him. "You came after me and you saved me." Rodney shrugged and went back to his staring, but he looked less glum and John allowed the glimmer of hope to flicker just that little bit stronger.
When they got back to Atlantis, he spent two hours on last minute adjustments and the following morning he emailed the program to Rodney.
~ ~
Rodney didn't mention it for two days. John was on tenterhooks the whole time. He only stopped himself from spending hours analysing Rodney's every word and gesture by practicing stick-fighting with Teyla. When she refused to fight with him any more, saying that it was too cruel, he went and stood in the shower for a long time before being interrupted by the door chime. Not allowing himself to hope, he hastily wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to open the door.
"Major, may I… oh," Rodney's voice faltered as he took in the sight of John in a towel.
"Come in," John said, stepping out of the way.
Rodney looked uncertain.
"I'm getting cold here," John pointed out, and Rodney moved into the room. When the door was closed, John slapped the lock as he headed back to the bathroom to put on some sweats. When he came out a few minutes later, he found Rodney poring over the notes on his desk.
"How long did it take you?" he demanded.
"A long time," John admitted.
"You're crazy, you know that?" Rodney asked, but he sounded amused and affectionate rather than accusatory. John felt the grin spreading across his face.
"In a good way," he said.
"What happened to your career?" Rodney looked determined, and John pulled a face.
"We're not on Earth now," he said with a shrug. "We can be discreet, the men won't find out."
"Everyone knows everything in this city," Rodney said.
"So we'll be discreet and if we ever get back in touch with Earth, you can use the time I spent in the court-martial I'll get for shooting Sumner to work out how to save me from a dishonourable discharge," John said. Rodney winced and opened his mouth to speak but John didn't let him.
"I don't care, Rodney. I don't care," John repeated, moving slowly towards the other man. Rodney pulled a face and looked at him, wary and turned on in about equal amounts.
John's breathing quickened. "What did the program show?" he asked.
"What?" Rodney asked. He was staring at John's lips, his own breathing speeding up to match John's.
"The program," John reminded him. "The one I emailed you, the one that made you come here?"
"We're the constants," Rodney said with the echo of old surprise in his voice. "All those variables but we're the constants."
"We can have this," John told him. There was a pause, and then Rodney nodded decisively and closed the gap between them.
John felt the same jolt go through him as last time as Rodney's mouth pressed against his. John slid his tongue over Rodney's lower lip and Rodney gasped, hands going to John's shoulders. John grabbed for him and suddenly they were stumbling over to the single bed, kissing desperately. John wanted to touch, he wanted to touch everywhere, he slid his hands up under Rodney's shirt until he reached a nipple, causing Rodney to mewl and buck against him. Rodney yanked for the hem of John's T-shirt, pulling it up and tugging sharply until John co-operated and removed it completely, leaving him clad only in a pair of sweats which were doing nothing to hide his arousal. Rodney stared greedily at him for a moment, breathing heavily, and John let him look.
"Fair's fair," he reminded, and began tugging at Rodney's belt as Rodney took care of the shirt.
They got a bit distracted at the feel of skin on skin. As soon as Rodney's shirt was off, John pushed him onto his back and kissed him hard, chest to chest, making both of them moan. Rodney's hands were on his back, sliding down to cup his ass through his sweats and John ground against him as Rodney slid his hands under the sweats. John left a trail of kisses along his jaw to his ear, and then moved lower, turning his attention to his nipples. John had fantasised about Rodney's nipples, and the first experimental lick made them both shudder. Rodney wriggled, pushing at John's hips until one of John's thighs was between his own. John closed his mouth over the nipple and sucked slowly and Rodney started rubbing against him, making a noise that almost made John come in his pants right there and then. John gasped and moved back to kiss him, rubbing himself against Rodney's thigh. This was great, this was awesome, this was…
"Clothes," he gasped.
Rodney stared at him, eyes dark with lust, and John separated them enough to fumble with Rodney's button-fly.
"God, yes," Rodney agreed, and took over that task as John got rid of his own sweats. Suddenly self-conscious, he hesitated for a moment as Rodney wriggled out of his own pants and stretched out on the bed, proudly and gloriously naked.
"Get over here," he told John, and John did as he was told. This time it was Rodney that took control, pushing him down onto the bed and kissing and biting at his chest where any marks would be hidden by his shirt. John groaned, running his hands all over Rodney's back, feeling the muscles shifting under his hands before sliding his hands down to Rodney's ass. Rodney took the hint and moved to kiss him again, taking his weight on his left elbow and moving his right hand to John's cock. He had big hands. John had known this intellectually but now he knew it physically. He made a thoroughly embarrassing sound and bucked his hips into Rodney's fist, moving so that they were on their sides and he could return the favour. Rodney's cock was hot and thick in his hand and he wanted to take time to explore it, enjoy it, but Rodney's hand was already moving again and John couldn't help speeding his own hand in response.
"God," Rodney groaned, and then he was coming, spurting onto John's hand and his belly and oh, and then John was coming himself, so hard he could see stars.
John exhaled shakily and lowered his head to rest on Rodney's chest as he shuddered through the last of the aftershocks. Rodney gently released his dick and slid his arms cautiously around John.
"Stupid Ancients and their tiny beds," he said by way of explanation, and John nodded sleepily and did something that was most definitely not snuggling.
They drowsed for a while, then Rodney shifted awkwardly and John made a complaining noise.
"Come on, move, it's cold," Rodney said, and John reluctantly moved away. Rodney got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. John regarded his stomach, then shrugged and moved to get under the blankets. Rodney reappeared with a damp cloth and swabbed half-heartedly at John's stomach before joining him in the bed again. John already knew that Rodney snored, and would have bet money on the fact that he hogged the covers as well, but as Rodney slapped off the light and moved in next to him, John just didn't care. It was warm, it was dark, he was comfortable and he was in Atlantis with Rodney by his side. Life was good.
End.
**
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