Sacred Bench of Rust - Pg13 - Faith/Sheppard (Fic-a-Thon)
Title: Sacred Bench of Rust
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Notes: Written for azraelz_angel for the SG/BtVS Fic-a-Thon at sg_btvs. She said she’d like Faith/Sheppard and 1. A lecture from General Hammond, General O’Neill, Dr. Weir, or Giles (or anyone in charge of wherever you put your fic) 2. Traveling through the Stargate 3. Something going wrong / not according to plan
Summary: It was the lamest excuse she’d ever heard.
Wordcount: 2015
~*~*~
Going through the Stargate was a lot like playing the lottery. If you got lucky, you won. Hit the jackpot. Made some new friends, traded for some finger-licking-good grub, and then headed on your merry way without a scratch on you. Most of the time, though, you just flat out lost. Wraith attack. Genii assholes that didn’t seem to get the fact that they’d gotten their asses kicked more than once by the best and the brightest of Atlantis. Sometimes planetary natives that just didn’t understand that we come in peace meant that no one on Atlantis wanted to hurt them.
And then there were the times somewhere in between, when Faith wasn’t sure if they’d won or lost, but she knew for a fact that Doc Weir was going to have some words for them when they got back.
Faith rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the tension in the middle of her back. All Sheppard had to do was say the word and she would snap the little ropes these people had tied her up with, to a big ass pole, in the middle of their damn village.
Tied her to a pole.
Crap like this just didn’t happen back on Earth. Hell, she didn’t even let lovers tie her down, much less pygmies hopped up on Wraith enzyme. If her no-so-fearless leader hadn’t told her to stand down, she was sure she could have taken out enough of them to give the rest of the team a chance to use their guns. Apparently that was what Sheppard didn’t want happening, though.
“They are peaceful people,” Teyla had admonished in a gentle tone, “Usually.”
Faith snorted at the memory. No shit. People that were peaceful all the time didn’t tie visitors to huge phallic-representations in the frickin’ village square. At least it didn’t look like she was going to be sacrificed. No wood for a fire. No one standing around with sacrificial knives. Okay, so there were the guys with the spears, but if one of those assholes got near her she was going to take his arm off, Sheppard’s orders or not. Trying to make nice and not cause a scene with the natives while Teyla talked their way out of things was all fine and good, but there came a point when someone had to say enough was enough.
Someone started walking up and Faith didn’t even have to try to twist her head around to see who it was. Not really necessary when the guy was radiating smug like it was going out of style. Like a wave of ha, ha, you got caught that spread out around him in an aura of mockery.
“Knock it off, McKay,” she growled.
The footsteps paused, then, “How’d you know it was me? One of your little Slayer parlor tricks?” She could hear the sneer in his tone. He liked to get in those digs whenever he could. Like she’d done something personally wrong by setting his world on end with the big old magic is out there speech. You’d think she’d done it just to make his life more difficult or something.
Besides, she’d show him a Slayer parlor trick if someone didn’t get her cut down from this damned pole soon.
“I could smell your sunscreen from a mile away,” she lied. Well, not completely.
He started walking again, coming right over until he was in front of her. But, hey, at least he was blocking out the sun. Of course, the way that he was smirking down at her, arms crossed over his chest, only made her want to smack him around a little. Or a lot. Most of the time she thought McKay was a pretty cool guy, then he did shit like this and the urge to throttle him was pretty damned strong.
He just continued to smirk and stare, rocking back and forth on his heels. The guards were watching them both closely, but making no move to force him to back up - or just go away entirely - and Faith didn’t know if that was a good thing or a very, very bad thing. Because McKay when he was being a smug ass was not a fun-filled time for all.
“You just had to touch it, didn’t you?” he taunted.
“I wanted to sit down,” Faith defended herself for the thousandth time since she’d accidentally sat on the Sacred Rusting Bench … or whatever it was that these people called it.
McKay’s smirk grew. “Yes, yes - and last time, you just wanted a drink of water. I suppose that was too much to ask that you be both bright and beautifully-strong. The ability to learn from one’s mistakes -“
“McKay!” Faith snapped. “You do realize that I won’t be tied up here forever, right? And when I get free, I might not be happy with you. I bet I can get Sheppard to agree that you need some hand-to-hand time with me.”
The threat hung in the air between them, and she did her best to look at menacing as possible.
He rolled his eyes, but backed up a couple steps, and that was as good as waving a white flag, in Faith’s eyes. “Just because the two of you are shacking up doesn’t mean that he’ll do everything you say.”
Before she could even open her mouth to reply to that little piece of - well, jealousy was the best word she could come up with - the object of conversation joined the fray, “Sure it doesn’t, Rodney. But it helps.”
She smirked. Couldn’t help it. Sheppard knew how to make an entrance, that much was for sure. He squatted down next to her, one hand on his P-90, sunlight gleaming off of his sunglasses, and gave her a half-smile as he murmured, “They’re coming up right now to cut you free, just… play along.”
Play along? What did that mean?
The next thing she knew, the village leader was cutting her loose, and Sheppard was helping her to her feet, as yet another village-person offered her sweet, cold water.
“Our apologies,” the leader offered, sincerely, in his nasally voice. The fuck? “Had we known sooner that you were with child, we would have, of course, understood your need to rest.”
With child?
“Right,” she swallowed thickly, glancing at Sheppard out of the corner of her eye. That innocent look on his face wasn’t going to earn him any points. “Yeah, sorry… my feet were…sore. From, y’know, swelling. Which happens when you’ve got a bun in the oven.”
The leader nodded sagely, though she was guessing he’d never heard that particular phrase before. Teyla looked amused by everything. Ronon just looked… well, like Ronon. Well, she was free and not in trouble, and hey, that had to count for something, but to hell if she was going to just let this slide without making Shep squirm just a little.
She grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed, giving the pygmy leader a wide, completely fake smile. “Hubby here should’ve told you sooner, though. Just like him to get me knocked up then make me suffer.”
The leader cast a disparaging eye at Sheppard, and Faith crowed silently as a lecture on the proper care of a breeding woman began.
Sweet. Sweet. Revenge.
~*~*~
The briefing room was quiet. Weir looked at each of them in turn and Faith did her best not to flinch, even though the woman was almost as intimidating as Giles when she wanted to be. The whole not-flinching thing lasted a good minute before Weir stared right at her, arching an eyebrow.
“You sat on their sacred bench?”
“I didn’t know it was some sort of special bench,” Faith argued.
Weir’s lips pursed together, thin and tight. “Out of the last ten missions I’ve allowed you on, five of those you have managed to defile one sacred relic or another.” Her eyebrows went up. “This is the only planet that is still speaking to us out of those five.”
When she put it like that, Faith couldn’t really argue.
Rodney huffed a big sigh. “Look - we all make mistakes, Elizabeth. I’m sure eventually she’ll learn to keep her hands to herself.”
She wasn’t going to read too much into his defense of what she’d done, considering she knew damn well he just wanted to get the briefing over with so that he could get back to his lab and tinker with the little piece of Ancient tech he’d scavenged before her bench faux pas.
“Or someone will cut her hands off,” Ronon said in a low rumble.
Doc Weir’s gaze narrowed, but at Ronon this time. Then, she nodded and turned her attention to Sheppard.
“And you were able to ease the tensions with the elder without endangering our trade possibilities?”
“Teyla did most of the talking. I may have…helped out with a few ideas of my own, though.”
The kind of ideas that had led to a highly embarrassing ceremonial cleansing ritual for her and her ‘unborn child’. Spawn of the devil, was more like it. That fly away hair of Sheppard’s was hiding horns, Faith just knew it.
When they managed to get out of the briefing with only five more minutes of lecturing from Weir, and not a single mention of the fact that they’d lied and told the elder she was, oh joy, knocked up, Faith felt relieved. This was definitely not going in her report back to the Council. Fuck if Willow wouldn’t find some way to magic over a pair of baby booties just to rub it in her face, if she ever found out.
A quick trip to Beckett for her post-mission exam, and she was able to head back to her room. Sitting in the hot sun, tied to a pole, in the middle of a bunch of dust and dead grass made for one sweaty, dirty Slayer. Not in a good way, either.
She kicked off her boots, shucking her clothes right to the floor before she ever hit the bathroom door. The shower had to be turned on manually since she didn’t have that nifty gene, but that was all right by her. Turning the knob, adjusting the temperature, that was normal and very Earth-like. Whereas turning it on with her mind would be just plain weird.
The water washed away the dirt, sending it streaming in a cloudy river down her body, swirling into the drain. Faith leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, just for a second. This other-galaxy thing took some getting used to. Maybe she hadn’t been the best choice to come out here, but she was doing the best she could. Red wouldn’t screw up as often, that was for sure. But Red wasn’t here. Faith was. All she had to do was quit thinking that it was okay to do anything other than, fuck, breathe when she was off-world, and maybe this shit would quit happening to her.
She heard Shep before she saw him, so was ready when the door to the shower slid open. Her eyes cracked to slits. “Well,” she drawled. “If it isn’t my baby daddy.”
He flushed. Good for him. That had been the lamest excuse ever, and if even one person found out about it, he was so in the doghouse.
“Got you free, didn’t it?” he asked, and she knew she should get irritated that he was smirking, but she just couldn’t manage it.
Hell, it was sort of funny.
“So - when are we due, pops?”
Sheppard’s frown came out more like a pout. “You can knock it off any time now.”
Faith snorted.
“That’s what you think. I figure I’ve got nine months worth of bringing this up to look forward to.”
Then,
“Hey, can you order McKay to spar with me tomorrow? I promise not to hurt the baby.”
END
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Notes: Written for azraelz_angel for the SG/BtVS Fic-a-Thon at sg_btvs. She said she’d like Faith/Sheppard and 1. A lecture from General Hammond, General O’Neill, Dr. Weir, or Giles (or anyone in charge of wherever you put your fic) 2. Traveling through the Stargate 3. Something going wrong / not according to plan
Summary: It was the lamest excuse she’d ever heard.
Wordcount: 2015
~*~*~
Going through the Stargate was a lot like playing the lottery. If you got lucky, you won. Hit the jackpot. Made some new friends, traded for some finger-licking-good grub, and then headed on your merry way without a scratch on you. Most of the time, though, you just flat out lost. Wraith attack. Genii assholes that didn’t seem to get the fact that they’d gotten their asses kicked more than once by the best and the brightest of Atlantis. Sometimes planetary natives that just didn’t understand that we come in peace meant that no one on Atlantis wanted to hurt them.
And then there were the times somewhere in between, when Faith wasn’t sure if they’d won or lost, but she knew for a fact that Doc Weir was going to have some words for them when they got back.
Faith rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the tension in the middle of her back. All Sheppard had to do was say the word and she would snap the little ropes these people had tied her up with, to a big ass pole, in the middle of their damn village.
Tied her to a pole.
Crap like this just didn’t happen back on Earth. Hell, she didn’t even let lovers tie her down, much less pygmies hopped up on Wraith enzyme. If her no-so-fearless leader hadn’t told her to stand down, she was sure she could have taken out enough of them to give the rest of the team a chance to use their guns. Apparently that was what Sheppard didn’t want happening, though.
“They are peaceful people,” Teyla had admonished in a gentle tone, “Usually.”
Faith snorted at the memory. No shit. People that were peaceful all the time didn’t tie visitors to huge phallic-representations in the frickin’ village square. At least it didn’t look like she was going to be sacrificed. No wood for a fire. No one standing around with sacrificial knives. Okay, so there were the guys with the spears, but if one of those assholes got near her she was going to take his arm off, Sheppard’s orders or not. Trying to make nice and not cause a scene with the natives while Teyla talked their way out of things was all fine and good, but there came a point when someone had to say enough was enough.
Someone started walking up and Faith didn’t even have to try to twist her head around to see who it was. Not really necessary when the guy was radiating smug like it was going out of style. Like a wave of ha, ha, you got caught that spread out around him in an aura of mockery.
“Knock it off, McKay,” she growled.
The footsteps paused, then, “How’d you know it was me? One of your little Slayer parlor tricks?” She could hear the sneer in his tone. He liked to get in those digs whenever he could. Like she’d done something personally wrong by setting his world on end with the big old magic is out there speech. You’d think she’d done it just to make his life more difficult or something.
Besides, she’d show him a Slayer parlor trick if someone didn’t get her cut down from this damned pole soon.
“I could smell your sunscreen from a mile away,” she lied. Well, not completely.
He started walking again, coming right over until he was in front of her. But, hey, at least he was blocking out the sun. Of course, the way that he was smirking down at her, arms crossed over his chest, only made her want to smack him around a little. Or a lot. Most of the time she thought McKay was a pretty cool guy, then he did shit like this and the urge to throttle him was pretty damned strong.
He just continued to smirk and stare, rocking back and forth on his heels. The guards were watching them both closely, but making no move to force him to back up - or just go away entirely - and Faith didn’t know if that was a good thing or a very, very bad thing. Because McKay when he was being a smug ass was not a fun-filled time for all.
“You just had to touch it, didn’t you?” he taunted.
“I wanted to sit down,” Faith defended herself for the thousandth time since she’d accidentally sat on the Sacred Rusting Bench … or whatever it was that these people called it.
McKay’s smirk grew. “Yes, yes - and last time, you just wanted a drink of water. I suppose that was too much to ask that you be both bright and beautifully-strong. The ability to learn from one’s mistakes -“
“McKay!” Faith snapped. “You do realize that I won’t be tied up here forever, right? And when I get free, I might not be happy with you. I bet I can get Sheppard to agree that you need some hand-to-hand time with me.”
The threat hung in the air between them, and she did her best to look at menacing as possible.
He rolled his eyes, but backed up a couple steps, and that was as good as waving a white flag, in Faith’s eyes. “Just because the two of you are shacking up doesn’t mean that he’ll do everything you say.”
Before she could even open her mouth to reply to that little piece of - well, jealousy was the best word she could come up with - the object of conversation joined the fray, “Sure it doesn’t, Rodney. But it helps.”
She smirked. Couldn’t help it. Sheppard knew how to make an entrance, that much was for sure. He squatted down next to her, one hand on his P-90, sunlight gleaming off of his sunglasses, and gave her a half-smile as he murmured, “They’re coming up right now to cut you free, just… play along.”
Play along? What did that mean?
The next thing she knew, the village leader was cutting her loose, and Sheppard was helping her to her feet, as yet another village-person offered her sweet, cold water.
“Our apologies,” the leader offered, sincerely, in his nasally voice. The fuck? “Had we known sooner that you were with child, we would have, of course, understood your need to rest.”
With child?
“Right,” she swallowed thickly, glancing at Sheppard out of the corner of her eye. That innocent look on his face wasn’t going to earn him any points. “Yeah, sorry… my feet were…sore. From, y’know, swelling. Which happens when you’ve got a bun in the oven.”
The leader nodded sagely, though she was guessing he’d never heard that particular phrase before. Teyla looked amused by everything. Ronon just looked… well, like Ronon. Well, she was free and not in trouble, and hey, that had to count for something, but to hell if she was going to just let this slide without making Shep squirm just a little.
She grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed, giving the pygmy leader a wide, completely fake smile. “Hubby here should’ve told you sooner, though. Just like him to get me knocked up then make me suffer.”
The leader cast a disparaging eye at Sheppard, and Faith crowed silently as a lecture on the proper care of a breeding woman began.
Sweet. Sweet. Revenge.
~*~*~
The briefing room was quiet. Weir looked at each of them in turn and Faith did her best not to flinch, even though the woman was almost as intimidating as Giles when she wanted to be. The whole not-flinching thing lasted a good minute before Weir stared right at her, arching an eyebrow.
“You sat on their sacred bench?”
“I didn’t know it was some sort of special bench,” Faith argued.
Weir’s lips pursed together, thin and tight. “Out of the last ten missions I’ve allowed you on, five of those you have managed to defile one sacred relic or another.” Her eyebrows went up. “This is the only planet that is still speaking to us out of those five.”
When she put it like that, Faith couldn’t really argue.
Rodney huffed a big sigh. “Look - we all make mistakes, Elizabeth. I’m sure eventually she’ll learn to keep her hands to herself.”
She wasn’t going to read too much into his defense of what she’d done, considering she knew damn well he just wanted to get the briefing over with so that he could get back to his lab and tinker with the little piece of Ancient tech he’d scavenged before her bench faux pas.
“Or someone will cut her hands off,” Ronon said in a low rumble.
Doc Weir’s gaze narrowed, but at Ronon this time. Then, she nodded and turned her attention to Sheppard.
“And you were able to ease the tensions with the elder without endangering our trade possibilities?”
“Teyla did most of the talking. I may have…helped out with a few ideas of my own, though.”
The kind of ideas that had led to a highly embarrassing ceremonial cleansing ritual for her and her ‘unborn child’. Spawn of the devil, was more like it. That fly away hair of Sheppard’s was hiding horns, Faith just knew it.
When they managed to get out of the briefing with only five more minutes of lecturing from Weir, and not a single mention of the fact that they’d lied and told the elder she was, oh joy, knocked up, Faith felt relieved. This was definitely not going in her report back to the Council. Fuck if Willow wouldn’t find some way to magic over a pair of baby booties just to rub it in her face, if she ever found out.
A quick trip to Beckett for her post-mission exam, and she was able to head back to her room. Sitting in the hot sun, tied to a pole, in the middle of a bunch of dust and dead grass made for one sweaty, dirty Slayer. Not in a good way, either.
She kicked off her boots, shucking her clothes right to the floor before she ever hit the bathroom door. The shower had to be turned on manually since she didn’t have that nifty gene, but that was all right by her. Turning the knob, adjusting the temperature, that was normal and very Earth-like. Whereas turning it on with her mind would be just plain weird.
The water washed away the dirt, sending it streaming in a cloudy river down her body, swirling into the drain. Faith leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, just for a second. This other-galaxy thing took some getting used to. Maybe she hadn’t been the best choice to come out here, but she was doing the best she could. Red wouldn’t screw up as often, that was for sure. But Red wasn’t here. Faith was. All she had to do was quit thinking that it was okay to do anything other than, fuck, breathe when she was off-world, and maybe this shit would quit happening to her.
She heard Shep before she saw him, so was ready when the door to the shower slid open. Her eyes cracked to slits. “Well,” she drawled. “If it isn’t my baby daddy.”
He flushed. Good for him. That had been the lamest excuse ever, and if even one person found out about it, he was so in the doghouse.
“Got you free, didn’t it?” he asked, and she knew she should get irritated that he was smirking, but she just couldn’t manage it.
Hell, it was sort of funny.
“So - when are we due, pops?”
Sheppard’s frown came out more like a pout. “You can knock it off any time now.”
Faith snorted.
“That’s what you think. I figure I’ve got nine months worth of bringing this up to look forward to.”
Then,
“Hey, can you order McKay to spar with me tomorrow? I promise not to hurt the baby.”
END