Fic: Communing with Atlantis (McShep, R) It's only just begun fest

[indusnm]

It should be raining the night your world changes, Rodney will think later. It should be stormy, the scene lit only by flashes of moonlight, everyone should be wearing cheap suits with hats over their eyes, and it should be a fifties movie. But it’s 2009 and late, and everyone is either in uniform or wearing whatever was at hand, though Rodney has a sneaking suspicion that Jennifer Keller, the Medical Examiner, is actually in her pajamas.

Carter has been staring at the body for the past half-hour, but then suddenly sighs and turns away. Exchanging a quick glance at her partner, she then stares Rodney down. “Well, is this the end of your case?”

“What, because my missing girl turns up dead?” Rodney scoffs. “You know how I work. Even if the family doesn’t hire me to find out what happened, which they will because I’m the best around, I won’t stop here. I hate to lose the people I’m hired to find; they won’t take her from me.”

Cameron Mitchell looks a little disgusted, but it’s only because he doesn’t know Rodney as well as the rest of them, his partner knows. “Yes, it’s all about you, McKay.”

Carter, who could, if she weren’t constrained by police rules and budgets, give Rodney a run for his money, tries to soothe the sting she knows her partner’s words leave. “Thanks for the help you’ve given us so far, Rodney. Jennifer, any conclusions?”

Keller straightens and sighs. “Well, I’ll be able to tell you more after a detailed autopsy, but at the moment I can say that the cause of death is most likely the bullet hole in the center of her forehead. She’s been dead at least a few hours, but the exact time is tough to tell right now because she’s been lying outside and it’s cold.”

“Center of her forehead?” Carter muses. “It looks professional, doesn’t it?”

“Kolya?” Her partner asks, referring to one of the major crime lords in the city. Rodney snorts, knowing they’ll go shake him down and get absolutely nothing. Kolya rarely admits to or denies anything, but every now and then, when it’s in his interests, he’ll give them a hint. It’s rare, but there is an outside chance and the cops always have to try him. Rodney doesn’t; he has his own sources and he’d rather stay away from that psycho, thank you very much.

Sam shrugs, her lips pursed. “I guess,” she says, not very hopefully.

Rodney turns to leave, but then spins around again. “I want to see the autopsy report, when it’s ready.” Cam looks like he wants to say no, for principle’s sake, but he shuts up. Sam gets Rodney, knows it’s in this girl’s best interest to have everyone working on this, so she nods immediately. He smiles at her awkwardly, and goes back to his car.

There, he opens up the dashboard and takes out a Ziploc bag. Inside is a carefully preserved iphone, a young girl’s pride and joy. He remembered putting it away when he’d seen it in the parents’ home. She never leaves home without it, her mother had sobbed. That’s why we called you. The police told us to wait a couple of days because she’s eighteen, but when we tried to call her and it rang here, that’s when we knew something was wrong.

It’s not his job to tell the parents; Captain Landry has that joy. Knowing the man, he will probably send Dr. Heightmeyer, who somehow emotes compassion and sorrow the way Rodney does contempt and sarcasm, so it’s better if she goes and Rodney stays far away from them right now. He can’t give them comfort, but he can get them justice. And for that, there’s somewhere else he needs to be right now.

***

John smiles, even though Teyla can’t see him, as he brushes away her concern. “I know it’s been a while since I was over there, but I’ll drop by soon for chicken soup and meditation, I promise.”

Teyla’s rich laugh echoes through the telephone line. “Well, I will see what Kanaan can do about the soup, but I can provide the meditation, and maybe a few hours practice with the banta sticks? It’s been a long time since you practiced John; you are probably rusty.” Although Teyla’s family came over with her commune generations ago, she still speaks without contractions and with the gentle formality of her ancestors. He doesn’t mind; it’s always disconcerting when she slips up.

He reluctantly agrees to let her beat him up, and then ends the call when he hears a knock on the door. It’s Rodney; he’s known the detective was coming from the minute he touched his tarot cards this morning and he’s been alternating between anticipation and dread the entire time. Anticipation because seeing, hearing, smelling Rodney is sometimes all that stands between him and putting the gun in his bedroom in his mouth, and dread because it’s all the more painful to know exactly what you want, to know that the other person wants it too, but to have it all just out of reach.

John Sheppard has not had sex or been in a relationship for 20 years. Put another way, John Sheppard has not touched a human being aside from Teyla since the day he had a vision that his lover, Mitch, would be in a serious car accident. In the effort to alter the future, and prevent the accident from happening, John managed to escalate the incident and at the end of the day, both Mitch and their best friend Dex were dead. Learning his lesson, John has stayed away from the fortunes of the living and only concerns himself with the affairs of the dead. Because touching someone opens his mind to visions about them and picking up on their emotional state, he wears gloves and covers himself from the neck down, allowing no one but Teyla, whose mental control prevents him from reading anything off her, to lay a finger on him. Touching a dead person’s belongings on the other hand exposes him only to visions of the past, stripped of all emotions.

Other things open his mind up to random visions; the intense effect of an orgasm prevents him from masturbating except immediately after a meditation session at the commune, which is why Teyla called in concern when he hadn’t come by to meditate for some time. But John’s almost become used not to satisfying some physical needs; he’s a little afraid that he won’t know how to have sex when (if ) he gets the chance again. Which is a pity, because John was good at it.

Rodney comes in when John yells that the door is open. Grumbling about the fact that John left the door open again all the while he dons the gloves John has never directly touched and keeps by the door for visitors, Rodney makes himself at home as usual.

“Well, what is it? Who is dead?” John’s voice is unusually sharp. He’s been antsy all day and he doesn’t know why.

Rodney raises an eyebrow at the tone. “Why, you have somewhere to go, people to meet?” Rodney can be a bastard sometimes, but that’s part of his charm.

“Just get on with it.”

For once, Rodney obeys. “Sora, age 18. Her body was found today-shot, execution style. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why anyone wants to assassinate an 18-year-old girl who is still in high school, unless they’ve taken bullying to a whole new level since I was a teenager.”

“Well, they’ve made a lot of progress since then,” John shoots back. “I think they even sent a man to the moon…” As Rodney splutters something about being younger than him, John snaps his fingers. “Well, what do you have?”

“What every teenage girl never leaves home without-her cell phone.” Rodney tosses it over, waits.

John catches it smoothly, and that’s all it takes with something as personal and often used as a phone. He doesn’t see much, but it’s enough. “Talk to Teyla.”

Rodney frowns, confused. “Teyla? What does Atlantis have to do with this? Didn’t see a connection between the girl’s family and the commune, and there was nothing on the phone records. Are you…”

John interrupts, his skin crawling with something he can’t identify. “Go, now.”

“Is something going to happen? Is the killer going after someone at Atlantis? Teyla?” Rodney’s voice rises. He doesn’t have half the relationship John has with the leader of Atlantis, but he cares for her deeply.

John shakes his head, stops, and then just looks bewildered. “No… yes, I don’t know! Something’s going down, Rodney, and I don’t know what it is, but I know that she visited Teyla recently and that whatever happened, it was life-changing. Go talk to Teyla, now.”

***

There are no fences around the commune, and from its appearance, a passing stranger might think that that the property is unguarded. Teyla prefers it that way, and is more than happy to let passers-by avail themselves of the fruits that adorn the trees on the outskirts of Atlantis. But her eyes, or rather those of her Chief of Security, Ronon, are everywhere, and anyone coming too far inside the commune is soon made to realize his or her mistake. If they happen to be armed, they would be lucky to make it two steps inside its borders. Elizabeth Weir, the U.S. government official responsible for ensuring the protection of the communes within the country, has had to smooth over some ruffled feathers every time a trespasser has left the commune in an ambulance, but Ronon’s message was received loud and clear. No one, not even mob boss Kolya who practically controls the city, dares step into the commune with the intention of doing anyone or anything harm.

However, Rodney has never felt fear when entering the commune. Perhaps it’s that he and Ronan, an unlikely pair, have actually become friends. Or maybe it’s that Teyla believes so strongly that he and John are meant to be together that she practically draws hearts and flowers in the air around them.

But he’s pretty sure that it’s the standing date he has with John to sit in Teyla’s guest room and watch the psychic masturbate after meditating, while jerking off to the sight. Last time he got to see John stick a dildo he brought from his own home into his ass and beg him to fuck him. It was a little hard to walk out of the room afterwards and look Teyla and Kanaan in the eye afterwards, but while he may have been embarrassed, he wasn’t afraid. And Rodney’s not the type to stay embarrassed for long.

He walks through the fields, pausing for a few minutes to watch residents slowly work the naquadria caves. There are a lot of machines available that would help them step production up, but Teyla won’t allow it. Not only is she unwilling to risk even a hair on someone’s head, but she associates the longevity of the commune with its commitment to hard work for every advantage it reaps, and she’s afraid of the effect too much wealth will have on it. He can’t fault her for that, he supposes, especially as she uses their still-considerable profits to ensure that their living conditions and social services are of the highest standard, and then some.

Just then, he turns a corner and even though he’s seen it a hundred times, he has to stop and gape. The gleaming towers of Atlantis’s beautiful structure are breathtaking and a true testament to the brilliance of its residents. Only the best and brightest come to Atlantis; outsiders must demonstrate true devotion to the world to be admitted, and residents must maintain strong commitment to preserving the commune if they are allowed to stay. All the materials used to make her were obtained through barter, and all the work was done by Atlantean scientists, architects and engineers, escaping the harsh brutality of the outside world. It’s an impressive example of what people are capable of, and if he weren’t given free rein to come and leave as he pleases, Rodney would be truly jealous.

“Rodney?”

He turns and is dazzled. The light is shining behind her, and she’s beautiful and strong and smiling at him as if everything is going to be fine, as if he isn’t in love with a man he can never touch. As he reaches out to clasp her shoulders and touch her forehead with his in the traditional embrace of her people, he’s conscious of how long it’s been since he sought her guidance. “Teyla, we should talk.”

“Is John all right?” she asks immediately. He doesn’t pretend to understand their relationship; he knows they’ve been close for a long time, and he often thinks they’re like platonic soul-mates. Or maybe he’s just seen too much Dawson’s Creek.

He sidesteps the question, not sure what the answer is, and instead pulls her to the kitchen table. “Teyla, do you know this woman?”

She picks up the photograph he puts down, and her eyes widen. “Sora? Yes, I do. Why?”

“You do?” He’s shocked; Teyla leaves the commune to represent her people on business or political gatherings, and that’s pretty much it. He can’t think how she came across a teenage girl, unless… “Did she want to join the commune?” But that can’t be it; teenagers usually have a hard time demonstrating service to the world, and therefore generally aren’t admissible unless they’re legacy.

“Did she?” Teyla parrots, no one’s fool. “Is she dead then? Oh no, I had wondered why she hadn’t called for so many days. Poor little Sora. It was murder then. That is why you are here?”

Rodney nods, and begins to put the pieces together. “Sora is legacy then? But I didn’t find any connection between her parents and this place, and I’m pretty thorough in my background checks. Oh… Sora’s biological father! I didn’t really look into him because he died before she was born and her mother remarried before she was old enough to remember.”

“And she is just at that age when young men and women begin to explore their heritage. Some mementos in her father’s possession led her here, where she asked about the commune. Her father was very close to mine, in his inner circle, and so I told her a great deal about what she had come from.”

“Okay,” Rodney says slowly, knowing there was more. “I guess that explains why you know her, but not really why she was shot execution-style. I can see her stepfather becoming pissed if she threatened to leave his home to come here, but that doesn’t translate to a professional hit!”

Teyla whitens, and pushes her chair back. After pacing the room several times she whirls back to plant her hands down on the table and look at Rodney more closely. “Professional hit?” She repeats, and waits for him to nod his head before turning to the window and gaze through it unseeingly.

“Teyla?” Rodney whispers, his heart beating quickly. “What’s going on?”

She obviously comes to a decision, because when she turns back her eyes are resolute. Quickly, she explains the system of government her ancestors created for Atlantis. A democratically-elected body does the bulk of the work, but final decision power for all major issues lies with the councils, whose members belong to the original ruling families. “Currently, those members are myself, Dr. Beckett, Kanaan, Ronon, and three others you do not know.”

“So there are seven members.”

“Yes, but there were ten original members. Only six of us are direct descendants of the original members, but the seventh, Ronon, was given the position when the last member of the Sumner family was dying. The Ancestors allowed the position to be given away, but only in the event that there are no more competent members of the original family. You know the eighth family-the O’Neills.”

“General Jack O’Neill?” Rodney is amazed; the Major General is a frequent visitor to the commune because of his personal relationship with the resident historian, Dr. Daniel Jackson, but he has never behaved like a member of Atlantis, let alone a leader.

“Yes, he was a very active member until the death of his young son, Charlie. Shortly after the tragic loss, he left Atlantis and therefore the council. He has already chosen his successor, but Dr. Jackson cannot serve on the council until Jack O’Neill is dead. The General may still return and take his place, but it is unlikely that he will do so.”

“Sora’s father?”

“The ninth family. Rodney, important economic decisions require a simple majority. If the council is evenly split, the measure cannot pass. Oh Ancestors! Rodney, I know why Sora was killed, and by whom!”

“The professional hit suggests it was Kolya.”

“Yes, two months ago we were approached by the Genii Corporation. We have worked with them before, but this time they wanted to infringe upon our sovereignty to a much greater degree. Instead of just bartering for what we brought to them, they want to come here and mine a section of our property themselves. They would promise us much more in resources in exchange for the right to do so. I am against such a decision, as are Carson and Ronon, but we are outnumbered by Kanaan and the others, who believe that it is time we expanded.”

“You’ve heard the rumors of Kolya’s association with Genii?”

Teyla nods.

“And of course, Sora’s vote could have potentially overset everything. If she votes with you, the council is split and the deal won’t go through. So he took her out of the equation.”

“Yes. Oh, if I had known!” Teyla isn’t one for tears, and her grief and anger shows itself in a vicious punch against a wall. She shakes off the pain and collapses into a chair, suddenly tired.

Rodney’s eyes narrow. “That’s nine…”

“What?”

“Seven plus O’Neill plus Sora-that’s nine. Who is the tenth, Teyla?” When she doesn’t answer, he leans closer. “Who is the tenth?”

She looks up at him mutely, and it dawns, slowly and horribly. “It’s John, isn’t it? That’s why you’re so close, and why he seems so much more at home here. Damn it!” He runs out, looking for his car. Because he’s upset, it takes him twice as long to find it, and by the time he reaches the garage someone else is on the hood of his sedan. It’s Ronon.

“I’m coming with you,” he states, and Rodney knows arguing is futile. Besides, why argue? Ronon’s bulk and enhanced weaponry can only be an asset.

***

Until this morning, John hadn’t touched a living person aside from Teyla for 20 years. But all that has changed now.

“Two bodies are a little much, even for me,” Kolya is speaking casually, despite John’s screams only a few feet away, and if he weren’t in so much pain, John would be horrified at the other man’s callousness. “So I think I’d prefer a guarantee that you won’t rejoin Atlantis and vote against me, Mr. Sheppard.”

As Kolya’s chief minion, a thin, spotted man with a distinctive signet ring on one short finger, releases John, the psychic takes the brief reprieve to catch his breath before giving an answer he knows will not be popular. “No.”

The thin man reaches forward again, and touches his naked palm to John’s face. Suddenly, John’s mind explodes with visions of the violence this man has committed. John can feel it, remember it, and now he knows what it feels like to kill, to burn the mark of your ring into someone’s skin as they scream… “Oh, God!”

“Will you give your word?” Kolya asks silkily.

John looks at him and in that brief meeting of the eyes, there is no room for lies or deception. Kolya knows that after this attack nothing will stop John from walking back into Atlantis and taking his rightful place, if only to stand in his way. Kolya’s face twists into an ugly scowl. “Fine, so be it. I’m going to let you live, Mr. Sheppard, but I promise you, you won’t be capable of anything more complex than breathing.”

John looks up at him, horrified. Kolya gestures, and another man steps forward from behind him. Although his gifts are usually triggered by touch, John can sometimes pick up on people’s aura, and he now recognizes pure evil. He tries to scoot backwards, but his back is already against the wall.

“Do you know who this man is, Mr. Sheppard? You may-he’s a registered sex offender. He served his time, but I don’t think it taught him very much. Now, there are some things I’m capable of, and there are some that I just can’t bear. I don’t mind taking out the trash once in a while, and I have no problems lying and bribing my way into Atlantis to make a tidy profit, but even I draw the line at dirty old men touching little boys. So when I heard Todd was up to his old tricks again, I had my guys take him off the street. But I didn’t kill him; I had a feeling he would of use one day. And today is that day, John. Because today, he’s going to break you.”

John hates himself for cringing, but he can’t stop it. He doesn’t feel Todd’s hand; all he is conscious of is the wave of images that sweeps through his mind and the emotions that sink into his skin. It would be easier if he gave into it, but he won’t. He will fight until his mind breaks rather than accept feeling pleasure while raping a child; Kolya was right. John will not be good for anything after this.

As his meager defenses bow underneath the extraordinary curse that has ruined his life, John tries to close what is left of his mind to the images and sensations he’s picking up on. He can’t hear his own screams, but he can feel the pain in his throat and knows he’s being loud. The roaring in his ears grows stronger, and as he finally gives into the blackness, he feels warm liquid trickling from his nose and ears.

He’s unconscious when Rodney and Ronon burst in and take in the whole scene in seconds, so he misses Ronon’s battle-cry and truly impressive leap into the fray. He doesn’t see Rodney pull out his gun and shoot the pedophile dead inches away from his prostrate body. And through the quick transport to Atlantis and Teyla’s care, Rodney all the while giving a shaky report to Sam and Cam on the phone, his mind is firmly disengaged from his body.

***

“Go now.” Teyla’s voice leaves no room for argument, and her eyes are gentle but firm. “Leave him in my care.”

So Rodney gets up from the chair he’s been sitting in for what feels like days, wipes his grimy eyes, and leaves the small, strong woman in John’s bed, her arms around his still body as she attempts to connect with his mind. He walks out of Teyla’s home, not knowing where he’s going or why. Ronon is on the porch, sharpening his many, many knives. The two men exchange glances, nod, and share the understanding that comes from doing battle together.

Deciding to go for a walk, Rodney wanders around until he finds himself in a corner of the commune that he’s never been to before. There’s a tall, slightly bowed figure on the small hill adjacent to his path; the profile is familiar, and Rodney shades his eyes and looks more carefully. “O’Neill!”

The man does not turn or jerk in surprise, but knowing his reputation Rodney would not be surprised if he has been aware of Rodney’s approach for some time. He remains where he is, leaving Rodney no choice but to join him. It isn’t until Rodney is almost upon him that the detective realizes he is at a memorial, and Jack O’Neill is caressing the engraving of his son’s name. He pauses, prepares to turn and silently leave, when the older man speaks. “Atlantis doesn’t bury her dead in caskets, you know. We want the dead to be part of our lives, so we bury them unpreserved in the ground and after ten years, we plow over it. We truly return to the soil from whence we came, give life to the plants and trees that feed our children.” His voice catches on the last word, and Rodney looks away, gives him a mockery of privacy. After a few seconds, O’Neill goes on. “But the living need somewhere to mourn, so after the ten years are over, and the land is plowed so we can’t visit their “graves,” their names go on this wall. Unless you believe in all that flowery tripe about them being a part of everything grown here, that’s all that remains of what they once were. A name on a wall and painful memories.”

“John is more than that,” Rodney says stubbornly.

“Yes, he is. He’s still alive.” General O’Neill turns to Rodney now, a sardonic smile twisting his face. “So why are you wandering around what passes as a cemetery, Mr. McKay?”

Rodney flushes, and then shrugs. “I was just walking-I don’t really know. Teyla kicked me out.”

O’Neill nods. “Yeah, makes sense. If anyone can reach him, it’s her. She’s telepathic, you know.”

“Now I do,” Rodney grouses.

“And she loves him.”

“He’s gay, and she’s with Kanaan.”

O’Neill turns to stare at him in disbelief. “First, the two (three?) aren’t mutually exclusive. I happen to still love my ex-wife, who is an elementary schoolteacher here, but I also love Daniel, whom I also have an intimate relationship with. But John and Teyla aren’t even ex-lovers. He’s been having problems with controlling his gifts since he was a kid but ever since she was born, she’s been able to reach him and calm him the way no one else can. Don’t get me wrong, they’re never going to set up house together, but anyone who wants to be a part of his life has to put up with the fact that he likes to work out with Ronan and gets his mental balance from Teyla.”

“The banta sticks?”

“There are some physical benefits, but mostly the practice is just another Zen thing. I don’t get it; I don’t have to. But I do know this-Sheppard has always had the ability to control his powers and live a normal life, as long as he does it here and with a lot of help from Teyla. But he’s been keeping himself from reaching that level of stability out of a misguided sense of guilt and hatred of his gifts. He’s punishing himself.”

Rodney tries to wrap his mind around that and fails. Swiping at eyes that are suddenly wet, he looks at the military man helplessly. “Now what?”

O’Neill smiles, a little pale but with something approaching happiness. “Now I retire and come back home, so I can stop punishing myself. But before I do that, I’m going to finish the damage control Elizabeth and I’ve been doing so you and Ronon aren’t punished for your little body count at Sheppard’s place. And you will stay here and rest, and see what happens.” He walks away, leaving Rodney at the memorial without any trite words about Sheppard being okay. Neither of them know that for sure.

***

It is two weeks after the day they rescued Sheppard from Kolya when Teyla sends Ronon to bring Rodney to her home. He’s been working on setting up some kind of investigative force in the commune; they have a defacto police force through which Ronon keeps order, but nothing to investigate and figure out incidents such as the one that nearly brought Kolya into their little paradise. There’s a place for him here, Halling has assured him, and Rodney knows he could be happy, but everything depends on John now.

Halling has also apologized on behalf of all those who supported the Genii. It’s not their fault; the rumors about Kolya and the Genii were just that, rumors, and he can’t blame them for looking towards a lucrative deal. They’ve learned their lesson, and will be twice as cautious now. But he can’t rid himself of the feeling that there’s something more. How did Kolya know about Sora? How did he know that the council vote was so close? But these questions aren’t for him to ask, at least not yet.

“Are you coming?” Ronon asks gruffly, and though it’s a question it’s embarrassingly obvious that the big man is ready to pick Rodney up and take him there by force. He’s closer to John than Rodney realized.

Rodney swallows, nods, and then follows Ronon to Teyla’s home. The door is open, and Teyla walks out, smiles impishly at Rodney and grabs Ronon to pull him away. Confused, the detective continues into the house and steps into Sheppard’s room. It’s empty. Gasping, knowing from Teyla’s smile that it’s good news but still panicked that Sheppard’s gone, Rodney rushes to the living room.

John is sitting on a mat, legs crossed, with an expression of peace on his face that Rodney has never seen before. When Rodney comes in, he smiles and opens his eyes. “Come here,” he says softly, and holds out a bare hand.

“You can touch me?” Rodney gasps, then stumbles forward but stops himself an inch or two before their fingers meet.

John wiggles his eyebrows. “I can do a little more than that.”

For more than a year, they’ve been restricted to watching each other masturbate every week after John and Teyla meditate, and even then, if John’s inner peace dissipates too quickly, they may not make it to orgasm. So when Rodney is allowed to touch John, it’s over much too quickly. They don’t even make it to taking each other’s clothes off, and just rub against each other, thrusting to messy completion. It’s still the best sex either of them has ever had.

As they lie together, spent, John explains in a whisper that Teyla has spent the last two weeks working with him, bringing him back and teaching him barriers. “I want to continue doing what I’ve done, helping bring justice to the dead, but now I can make sure that I never get a vision of a living person again. I had some rudimentary ability to do this as a kid, but it was destroyed when my powers resulted in the deaths of my boyfriend and our best friend. I suppose I always knew that Teyla could bring it back, but I also knew it wouldn’t be easy and would probably require weeks or months of meditating to bring myself deep enough to start building barriers. In a weird way, Todd gave me my life back, because he took me that deep in seconds.”

“Why didn’t you do it? A few months doesn’t seem like much when it’s compared to decades of celibacy.” Rodney’s voice is gentle because O’Neill’s words are echoing in his head. He’s punishing himself.

“I guess I didn’t really think I deserved a full life,” John admits, “while Mitch and Dex were dead. But while she was in my head, Teyla beat some sense into it. They wouldn’t have wanted this, and it doesn’t do them any good.”

Rodney smiles, holds the slighter, wiry man closer. “No, it doesn’t.”

They lie in silence together, until John sighs and speaks in a rush. “I want to stay here.” When Rodney rears back to stare at him in surprise, he goes on quickly. “This is home, Rodney, and I think staying out of Atlantis has been one more way to punish myself for my stupidity 20 years ago. I have more control here, and it’s easier for me to test my boundaries in a relatively safe environment. Besides, they need me here. Ronon’s a great trainer and a phenomenal soldier, but he’s not the best strategist. They’ve been asking me here to run the Atlantis police force for years. I know that might make things more complicated for us, but O’Neill and Jackson have managed to stay together long-distance. I can still consult for you…”

Rodney puts a finger on John’s lips. “I can see them needing someone to rein Ronon in and give his fighting force some structure, but Atlantis also needs someone to investigate things like what just happened. Ronon can handle the brawny stuff, I’ll handle the brains, you do the logistical and practical issues and figure out how to do what I think we need to do, and Teyla can make sure we all don’t have our heads up our asses or get out of shape. We’ll be a team, and we’ll keep this commune safe. Together.”

John’s eyes sparkle, but instead of moving Rodney’s finger in order to speak, he licks it and then takes it into his mouth. He sucks slightly, and Rodney feels the corresponding pull on his dick. He rolls them over until John is trapped beneath him, sandwiched between his legs. “We’re sticky,” John says with something embarrassingly close to a giggle.

Rodney smiles, and leans down to kiss his lover. It’s a brief kiss, only long enough for their tongues to meet and tangle for a second before they reluctantly separate. “We should shower before this becomes uncomfortable,” Rodney admits. Before he can get to his feet, John grabs him and holds him still.

“I never, ever want to get a vision of you,” he says earnestly, “And I’m going to do my damnedest to make sure that never happens. But I would like to know what you’re feeling. I should warn you though, if you give me permission to open myself to you empathically, I will know when you start to hate me, when you fall for someone else, maybe even before you do.”

Rodney smiles. “I can live with that.”

John closes his eyes and relaxes his grip on Rodney until he’s barely touching him. His brow wrinkles for a second as he concentrates, and then his eyes open in a gasp. He looks at Rodney, who stares back at him in concern. And then John smiles. “I love you too.”

THE END.