SGA FIC: Tagged
WARNING: Ep 4:05 - Travelers Spoilers (mild) behind the cut.
Tagged
by Sapphire
Summary: What’s Rodney to do when Sheppard keeps getting lost?
Beta: Much thanks to maisierita for the quick beta and, as always, helpful hints.
Genre: Ep Tag. Humor. Slash.
Author's Notes: Strangely enough, this will be my first “published” McShep piece. And, yeah, I would be one of those that falls in the category of really liking the Travelers ep and actually sort of liked the het implications in this one.
Pairing: McShep
Published: October 28, 2007
Rating: R
SPOILERS: Travelers
WORDS: 735
WEBSITE: Posted to LJ: http://sapphiresmuse.livejournal.com/
Will eventually be posted to my website at: http://musings.slashcity.net/
Panting, John collapsed facedown in his bed.
Rodney slid out of him and then rolled to one side, a leg and arm resting heavily but reassuringly on John’s backside.
“Good?” Rodney asked between breaths.
“Mmmm,” John mumbled, not even caring he was lying in his own wet spot.
They lay there silently for several moments, sweaty and satisfied, basking in the afterglow of good sex and having survived one more thing the Pegasus Galaxy had thrown at them.
Eventually, John could feel Rodney’s fingers tracing lines on his back and moving lower to a hip and knew the other man was tracing the outlines of bruises leftover from his latest escapade. He waited but, as usual, Rodney didn’t say anything about the residual damage. Rodney’s silent acknowledgment that John’s hurts were Rodney’s too always disturbed John yet made him feel better at the same time. He tried not to examine that one too closely, even if he understood it all too well.
Then the touch disappeared and John was just beginning to drift off into a light slumber when there was sudden stab of pain on his rear-end.
“OW!” He slapped at his ass, barely missing Rodney’s retreating hand. What the hell?
Twisting, he saw something silver flash in Rodney’s hand. Glaring accusingly, he demanded, “What the fuck, McKay?”
Rodney shrugged, trying for innocent and failing miserably, leaving John wondering, not for the first time, how Rodney survived when he was so transparent.
“What is that?” John demanded again, making a grab for the syringe-type object Rodney was not-very-subtly attempting to hide.
Rodney pulled it out of his reach but John rolled in the same direction as Rodney’s flailing arm in an attempt to capture the evidence. Rodney rolled right along with him and before either knew what was happening they were in freefall for all of the two seconds it took them to reach the floor.
Pain exploded in John’s posterior and he yelped-again-but kept his hold on Rodney, who came to rest atop him.
“What?” exclaimed Rodney, indignation vibrating through him and leaching into John.
“You stuck me!”
Rodney smirked, his expression turning dirty.
John swatted him, even as his own mind went to sex. “Not that! What’d you stick me with?”
Rodney’s indignation suddenly took a turn into arrogant smugness. “I tagged you.”
“You . . . tagged me . . .” John stared at him in confusion. “What the hell, McKay?”
“You keep getting lost,” McKay explained in a are-you-stupid-or-what tone. “Or kidnapped. Or some bimbo steals you for your DNA.” Rodney paused as he gathered further ammunition. “Or the Genii want you to be their torture boy. Or-”
John’s exasperation at this coming up again showed when he thumped his head-not once but twice-against the floor. He interrupted Rodney before this came back around to Chaya again.
“Rodney, I have a subcutaneous-”
Rodney waved John’s words away. “That only tracks you if we know where to look. I invented something better. This one sends out a signal to my LSD.” Rodney looked very pleased with himself.
“Yeah, but . . .” John shifted around uncomfortably, his rear-end still throbbing in the wrong place. “In my ass?”
“Oh. That. Could have injected it anywhere.”
“Rodney,” John growled.
Rodney gave him a waspish look. “Maybe you’ll think twice before kissing the next bimbo that comes along.”
“McKay.”
“Don’t get all snitty, Sheppard. Your cover won’t be blown with Keller. The whole team will be getting the new implants. But you and I know the real reason for the tracking implant.”
“Which is?”
“You’ll get lost and we’ll have to find you. Again.”
“I don’t get lost that often!”
“Oh, come on, Sheppard. You get lost more often than Bush loses his train of thought.”
“Hey!”
Rodney’s smirk was displaced by surprise when he abruptly found himself rudely ejected from atop Sheppard to the floor.
John climbed to his feet, heading for the bathroom. “I want to be there when you try to ‘tag’ Ronon.”
“Oh, hey, about that,” said Rodney as he climbed to his feet and followed John into the bathroom. “I have an idea. How are you with long-range pea-shooters . . .”
John’s reply was lost in the wash of the shower powering up but Rodney’s yelp at being yanked into the shower was briefly heard before being muffled by an exuberant kiss.
~Finis
Tagged
by Sapphire
Summary: What’s Rodney to do when Sheppard keeps getting lost?
Beta: Much thanks to maisierita for the quick beta and, as always, helpful hints.
Genre: Ep Tag. Humor. Slash.
Author's Notes: Strangely enough, this will be my first “published” McShep piece. And, yeah, I would be one of those that falls in the category of really liking the Travelers ep and actually sort of liked the het implications in this one.
Pairing: McShep
Published: October 28, 2007
Rating: R
SPOILERS: Travelers
WORDS: 735
WEBSITE: Posted to LJ: http://sapphiresmuse.livejournal.com/
Will eventually be posted to my website at: http://musings.slashcity.net/
Panting, John collapsed facedown in his bed.
Rodney slid out of him and then rolled to one side, a leg and arm resting heavily but reassuringly on John’s backside.
“Good?” Rodney asked between breaths.
“Mmmm,” John mumbled, not even caring he was lying in his own wet spot.
They lay there silently for several moments, sweaty and satisfied, basking in the afterglow of good sex and having survived one more thing the Pegasus Galaxy had thrown at them.
Eventually, John could feel Rodney’s fingers tracing lines on his back and moving lower to a hip and knew the other man was tracing the outlines of bruises leftover from his latest escapade. He waited but, as usual, Rodney didn’t say anything about the residual damage. Rodney’s silent acknowledgment that John’s hurts were Rodney’s too always disturbed John yet made him feel better at the same time. He tried not to examine that one too closely, even if he understood it all too well.
Then the touch disappeared and John was just beginning to drift off into a light slumber when there was sudden stab of pain on his rear-end.
“OW!” He slapped at his ass, barely missing Rodney’s retreating hand. What the hell?
Twisting, he saw something silver flash in Rodney’s hand. Glaring accusingly, he demanded, “What the fuck, McKay?”
Rodney shrugged, trying for innocent and failing miserably, leaving John wondering, not for the first time, how Rodney survived when he was so transparent.
“What is that?” John demanded again, making a grab for the syringe-type object Rodney was not-very-subtly attempting to hide.
Rodney pulled it out of his reach but John rolled in the same direction as Rodney’s flailing arm in an attempt to capture the evidence. Rodney rolled right along with him and before either knew what was happening they were in freefall for all of the two seconds it took them to reach the floor.
Pain exploded in John’s posterior and he yelped-again-but kept his hold on Rodney, who came to rest atop him.
“What?” exclaimed Rodney, indignation vibrating through him and leaching into John.
“You stuck me!”
Rodney smirked, his expression turning dirty.
John swatted him, even as his own mind went to sex. “Not that! What’d you stick me with?”
Rodney’s indignation suddenly took a turn into arrogant smugness. “I tagged you.”
“You . . . tagged me . . .” John stared at him in confusion. “What the hell, McKay?”
“You keep getting lost,” McKay explained in a are-you-stupid-or-what tone. “Or kidnapped. Or some bimbo steals you for your DNA.” Rodney paused as he gathered further ammunition. “Or the Genii want you to be their torture boy. Or-”
John’s exasperation at this coming up again showed when he thumped his head-not once but twice-against the floor. He interrupted Rodney before this came back around to Chaya again.
“Rodney, I have a subcutaneous-”
Rodney waved John’s words away. “That only tracks you if we know where to look. I invented something better. This one sends out a signal to my LSD.” Rodney looked very pleased with himself.
“Yeah, but . . .” John shifted around uncomfortably, his rear-end still throbbing in the wrong place. “In my ass?”
“Oh. That. Could have injected it anywhere.”
“Rodney,” John growled.
Rodney gave him a waspish look. “Maybe you’ll think twice before kissing the next bimbo that comes along.”
“McKay.”
“Don’t get all snitty, Sheppard. Your cover won’t be blown with Keller. The whole team will be getting the new implants. But you and I know the real reason for the tracking implant.”
“Which is?”
“You’ll get lost and we’ll have to find you. Again.”
“I don’t get lost that often!”
“Oh, come on, Sheppard. You get lost more often than Bush loses his train of thought.”
“Hey!”
Rodney’s smirk was displaced by surprise when he abruptly found himself rudely ejected from atop Sheppard to the floor.
John climbed to his feet, heading for the bathroom. “I want to be there when you try to ‘tag’ Ronon.”
“Oh, hey, about that,” said Rodney as he climbed to his feet and followed John into the bathroom. “I have an idea. How are you with long-range pea-shooters . . .”
John’s reply was lost in the wash of the shower powering up but Rodney’s yelp at being yanked into the shower was briefly heard before being muffled by an exuberant kiss.
~Finis