The Hostage Major, Part Two--by Frostfire
When Rodney showed up the next day, he had a laptop and a
briefcase full of papers with him. John watched, bemused, as he set everything
up on the dressing table. “What are you doing?”
“Working. I can’t get anything done in the lab, it’s full of people being idiots and distracting me. I usually work with Zelenka, who’s actually almost as smart as I am, but he left for Russia yesterday, which leaves no buffer between me and the idiots. So I figured I’d come in here, because you at least aren’t too much of an idiot. Aside from the whole marriage thing, which we aren’t talking about because I’m in a good mood and want to stay that way.”
“I don’t know, Rodney, aren’t you afraid I’ll distract you, too?” John asked. He was way too amused for his own good, but it was just-so Rodney. Well. What he was thinking was more like “so weird”, but in his head, the two terms were just about synonymous, anyway. And it wasn’t bad weird.
“Nope, because you’re going to be working on these.” Rodney thrust a stack of papers and a calculator at him. “Equations. Go.”
John blinked. “Now you’re using me for slave labor?”
“You wanted amusement, and you claimed to be able to do math. If they’re too hard, let me know and I’ll give you easier ones. And if you’re worried about slave labor, I’ll pay you. How’s a thousand per equation, and a bonus if you finish them before I need them?”
“American or Canadian?” John asked, because he’d caught the “Zed” in ZPM last night, and he vaguely remembered his dad calling McKay a Canadian sonofabitch, back when he first started working for him.
“You’d take Canadian?”
“Well-no.”
“That’s what I figured. Hard ugly green American money. Now start working.”
John grinned and bent down over the math.
It actually was kind of fun, working through the numbers, although he couldn’t figure out what they were going to be used for to save his life. Something complicated, okay, but usually if he was working through physics, he could at least figure out what sort of movement, force, mass, whatever he was dealing with. This, no way.
But the numbers were fun.
He handed the first set to Rodney when he was done, who scanned them with surprised approval. “Huh. I really didn’t expect you to be able to do these.”
John shrugged. “It’s just math.”
“Yes, well, knowing prime numbers really doesn’t prepare you for this sort of thing. Good job. And, bonus, I won’t need them for another ten minutes or so.” Rodney smiled, a quick lopsided thing, and turned back to his laptop.
Huh, thought John, and bent over the next set.
It occurred to him at one point that he probably shouldn’t be aiding and abetting the enemy like this. But Rodney probably knew hundreds of people who he could order to do this, and-well. Rodney just didn’t seem the type for a superweapon.
He hoped.
That thought kept him uncomfortable and mildly worried for half an hour, thinking about scientists at Los Alamos and who really knew what these equations were for, anyway? But then Rodney snapped his fingers and said, “What, aren’t you done yet? Better be in the next five minutes, come on,” and the irritation at his-McKay-ish-ness-got him through to the end.
And he really didn’t believe that Rodney was developing a superweapon. He just-he didn’t believe it. What would he do with it, first of all? He was already a billionaire, already had tons of people who maybe he called idiots, but yeah right, working for him, and okay, maybe Rodney might like the idea of the Rodney McKay Empire, but he’d never seriously want that much responsibility, John figured.
He was good at judging his people. And he judged Rodney to be an arrogant asshole, but not a power-hungry megalomaniac.
“Come on,” said Rodney, “aren’t you finished yet? You started out so well,” and John made a couple more calculations and handed him another stack of papers.
“Huh,” said Rodney just after lunch. “That was amazing. Not as fast as the computer does it, but you’re less likely to crash when I’ve forgotten to save. I don’t suppose you want to quit the Air Force and work for me?”
“That’d be a no,” said John.
“Right, right, I figured. But this is working, it’s really working.”
“What is it, exactly?” John asked, waiting for the can’t tell you.
“It’s a theoretical wormhole physics model.”
John blinked. “Oh.” Wormhole physics? McKay was maybe more interested in science fiction than he’d thought.
“Oh,” said Rodney as an afterthought, “don’t mention those words to any of your superiors, because if any of them are actually cleared to know about stuff like this, you might end up under interrogation or something. But, yeah, wormhole physics. If I could tell you more about it, I would.”
“Okay,” said John, but Rodney had jumped up and wasn’t listening anymore.
“And, wow, it’s finished. Okay, I have to go test this. I’ll come back tonight. Read for awhile or something. I wish you could see what this is going to do!”
So, not a superweapon, then.
Probably.
~~~
When Rodney showed up again, after dinner, John really kind of wanted to relax and banter and maybe play a round of prime/not prime, but this was the end of Day Five, here, and if he wanted to convince McKay, he was going to have to start lobbying now.
So after a couple minutes of small talk, John said, “So. My parents.”
Rodney winced and said, “John, I’ve told you. No. I-I’m sorry if this means that you hate me forever. I’m-probably more sorry than you realize. But I can’t.”
“Okay, I get that,” said John, even though he totally didn’t, “but couldn’t you-like-do something else? Something that just looks like you’re getting back at them?”
“What, like kidnap you forever, for real?” Rodney kind of perked up at that idea, and John jumped forward to stomp on it, because as much as it sounded kind of nice, he was already climbing the walls after five days. Plus, duty to the USAF and everything.
“No, sorry, I have this job thing-but maybe something else. They could move and you could pretend you’d disappeared them. Or you could make like it was a plan against your enemies” which, okay, sounded hokey beyond belief, but also very Rodney, so whatever “and Dad was on your side the whole time, or-or something, Rodney.” Because if you don’t, I’m going to have to do something horrible to you just so I can live with myself, and I don’t want to. I really, really don’t.
Rodney looked thoughtful. “Huh. I wonder why I didn’t think of that before. All your ideas are stupid and pedantic, of course-”
Of course. John wasn’t even offended.
“-but maybe I can work something out. I-let me think about it. But maybe-maybe it could work.” Rodney was frowning slightly, but also looking suddenly really, really happy.
“So, uh,” said John, “3317.”
“What? Oh-not prime.” And he was seeing that lopsided smile again, and, huh, John thought, Rodney hardly ever smiles.
~~~
This time, it was two AM.
John wasn’t even surprised, really. He didn’t bother sitting up. Rodney wasn’t actively talking on the cell phone, but he was carrying it and it was on, the same little blue glow. “Rodney-”
“Shut up,” said Rodney, and his voice was high, tight, tense. John snapped fully awake and tried to study Rodney’s face in the cell phone light, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
And then Rodney sat down on the bed, which he’d never done before, not in five days of captivity, and Jesus Christ, what was wrong?
Rodney spent about thirty seconds sitting there, not saying anything, and then he grabbed John’s hand with one of his, and dialed the phone with the other one. John stared down at their joined hands and couldn’t make any sense out of anything.
“Yes, it’s McKay again,” snapped Rodney when whoever it was picked up. “Have they made any progress? Look, I don’t care about clearance, I think that as a person who lives on this world I have a right to know-yes, please put him on.” Pause. “How is it? Have they figured it-no, of course they haven’t. Look, General, you need me on this one, I can help you-I have sources of intelligence, if you must know-oh.” Quieter, suddenly. “Oh. That isn’t long enough, no. But-they’re trying something. All right. Tell Carter-no.” Fierce, suddenly, and looking right at John. “Don’t tell her anything. Thank you, General. Goodbye.”
“Rodney, what-” John started.
“Don’t. Just-don’t.”
After that, going by the cell phone, there were five minutes of silence. Rodney’s grip on his hand got tighter every time the numbers clicked over. Eventually John gave up watching the clock and studied Rodney’s face. It was too dark to see much, but Rodney looked-hurt. Bruised.
Three minutes later, Rodney squeezed his eyes shut. John was still clueless, but he tightened his own grip and waited.
Eventually, Rodney said, “John?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you tell me what time it is?”
John looked at the cell phone. “Three twenty-seven.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Rodney opened his eyes and stared at the phone. Then at John. And then his whole body seemed to relax, all at once. “Oh thank God.”
Okay.
Rodney picked up the phone, and-his hand was shaking. What the hell was going on here?
“Hello, it’s McKay-they did? It is? Good, good. Just-checking. Yes, thank you, me too. Yes. Yes. Goodbye.”
The phone landed on the bedspread, and Rodney just seemed to collapse. He landed sort of on top of John, and didn’t move.
“Rodney?” John asked after a second.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
Okay. “Do you-” want to move, but he didn’t finish the sentence, because Rodney was shifting a little, just moving so his head was on John’s chest and his thumb was stroking softly along the strip of skin between the loose shirt and pants John had been wearing to bed, and wow, that was new. His other hand was still holding onto John’s.
Who knew he had so many nerves right there?
“Rodney,” John tried again. He didn’t have any idea what he was going to say, but-this. This was against the rules.
He’d never tried to apply the rules in a four-poster with silk sheets, before, though. And he’d never tried with someone like Rodney.
“Shh,” said Rodney. “In a second I’m going to think about what I’m doing. But the last twenty minutes were up there with the worst in my life, and I think I deserve a few minutes doing whatever the hell I want to.”
“Okay,” said John, because…okay.
And Rodney just kept stroking, right there, and it was starting to feel like every single nerve in his body was right there in that two-inch space. It went on for what felt like hours.
But eventually Rodney sat up, looked down, and went, “Um.” And he let go of John’s hand, which had pins-and-needles by now, and picked up the cell phone, and said, “Um. Thanks. And I-have to go. Now. So I’ll…see you tomorrow.”
“Wait-Rodney, what was that?”
Rodney sighed. “It’s classified,” he said, and he turned and left.
And John stared up at the ceiling and thought, I didn’t mean that.
~~~
At nine AM on Day Six, Rodney turned up determinedly cheerful, and apparently pretending that the night before had never happened. John hadn’t decided whether he was going to let him get away with it or not, but he played along for the moment.
This time, Rodney had a bunch of papers and a laptop and a little metal thing, which he set on the dressing table. “Don’t touch that,” he said. “I was going to do some more work, do you want to do some more work?”
“I-” said John.
“Good, because I have plenty of work. What do you say to more equations? And did you have a good breakfast? I had them go out and buy orange juice especially for you, which I hope you appreciate, because normally I don’t even let the stuff inside my house-”
“Rodney, I need to ask you something,” said John, because after last night he was really paranoid.
Rodney stopped, and his mouth did that thing where he wasn’t sure what to say and it was a bad thing. “Okay,” he said finally, nervously.
“Are we building a weapon?”
And Rodney looked so surprised that John breathed out in relief before he even answered, because no way was Rodney that good of a liar. “What-no! No, we are not building a weapon, and even if we were, it wouldn’t be used on-” and he stopped really fast. “No,” he said. “I don’t build weapons for the military. This is something else, I swear.”
“Okay,” said John, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders start unraveling. “Good.”
Rodney brightened. “So-equations?”
So John worked equations for awhile, while Rodney typed away, and occasionally opened up the little metal thing and did things to its insides, and typed some more, and pounced on John’s math whenever he handed a new set over.
And really, it was kind of fun. Math, which John hadn’t done in forever, and also he got to watch Rodney work, which was a treat. All focused and intent and totally manic, and his eyes were bright and excited whenever he looked at John, and-
-and maybe it was kind of a turn-on. But-whatever.
When lunch arrived, Rodney snapped the laptop shut and jumped up, sending Waiter, No Really out the door and making happy noises over the food. John grinned at him, although he felt mildly thwarted that he couldn’t lean over and figure out what Rodney was working on, because the laptop was kept pointedly turned away from him whenever they were working.
Instead, he reached out and picked up the little metal thing.
It lit up in his hand, and he said, “Whoa!” because it hadn’t done anything like that with Rodney, and almost dropped it.
“What are you-I said not to touch that! Except-wait-” Rodney practically teleported over and stared at the thing, which was now glowing bluish and humming happily. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“What?” said John. “Why is it doing that?”
“Because you have been sent by God into my hands, that’s why,” said Rodney. “I cannot believe I have had you locked up in a room for a week and I never realized-this is amazing. You have to come with me right now.”
“I-what?” John asked, but Rodney was already dragging him out of the room-and hey, hallways! Guard Slash Waiter guy gave them kind of a bug-eyed look, but since John was going about Mach 2 by then, he only saw it for a second.
Rodney pulled him through several miles of hallways, up some stairs, down some other stairs, and finally into an elevator, where he spent the three-second ride bouncing on his toes, impatient. When the doors pinged open, he grabbed John’s hand again-and what was it with the hand-holding, lately?-and dragged him down more hallways, until he finally deposited John in a gleaming silver lab populated by a bunch of people wearing lab coats and surprised expressions.
“Salvation,” said Rodney, “has arrived. In the form of Major Sheppard, here. Pick that up, John.” He pointed to a weirdly-shaped metal thingy sitting on a table.
John picked it up. It started vibrating in his hand, but he’d expected something like this, so he managed not to drop it. It also felt kind of weird-like there was someone inside it, almost. Like it was a sentient thing, itself. “What is this?”
“That,” said Rodney, “is an Ancient artifact. It was found in Antarctica, and I acquired it through semilegal means. I have no idea what it does. But now I’m going to learn. You are my new favorite person ever. Now touch that.”
John put his hand on the other thing. It felt-empty, kind of. “I think this one’s out of power.”
“Oh my God, you can tell that? What else can you tell? Do you know what it does? Do you know what the other thing does?”
John looked around the room. The people were in various states of shock. “Forget them, Rodney,” said one, an Asian man. “He needs to touch this one.”
“And this one,” said a redheaded woman. “Oh, God. He needs to try the chair.”
“The chair is under military control, thank you, and I’m keeping Major Sheppard-oh, wait. Huh. You probably could get to the chair, couldn’t you.” Rodney was staring at him with a contemplative expression that kind of made John worried.
“Okay,” said John. “I’m happy that I can make the stuff light up for you. That’s great. But you need to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Ah.” Rodney fidgeted a little. “That’s-kind of a long story.”
“First touch this,” said the Asian guy. “Just-touch it. It’ll probably help with your question, anyway.”
John really wasn’t sure about that, but he picked the thing up and-whoa.
There was a galaxy in his head-no, two galaxies-and a city, a city in the sea. He was spiraling between two stars-there was a star map, and there were eight weird symbols, looked like an ancient language-or-no, an alien language-or no, wait, both-and then there was a big metal circle thingy and what the hell was that, water or something?
Rodney caught the thing when John dropped it.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” said John. “Aliens. Or-what?”
“That’s pretty much it,” said Rodney. “Aliens. Or what.”
~~~
So apparently the world had almost ended the night before.
Which, okay, John understood the freaking out and the hand-holding and the telephone call a lot better, but-the world had almost ended. And nobody even knew about it. Jesus fucking Christ.
Maybe he understood a little better why Rodney would have been willing to bankrupt mostly-innocent (or, well, guilty) people, if it was going to keep the world from ending. Although, still no, and he thought he was going to stay mad at Rodney about that for a long, long time.
They kept giving him stuff to touch, and also they kept talking about the Antarctican chair, which was one of the things he wasn’t too clear on yet. Also he couldn’t pronounce the name of the evil aliens to save his life, but judging from the four different ways he heard it among the scientist people, that was sort of a universal thing.
He also got to hold the Ancient star-map thing again, which was cool. The second time he put it down, Rodney was looking at him speculatively. “What?”
“You just look really-interesting when you do that.”
“Interesting.”
“Um-yes. Here-hold this now,” and something else was being thrust at him.
Eventually they ran out of artifacts, and Rodney snapped from you are the light of my life to John who? and waved him out of the lab. “Go get some food or something, I’m done with you for now,” except John didn’t know where the hell anything was, and when he tried to point that out, Rodney just snapped, “Busy now! Thank you, you’re very helpful, but I need to look at this stuff now! I’ll pay you a million dollars for this, but go away now.”
John actually felt kind of hurt at that, although he supposed that up till now, his sole contact with Rodney had been when Rodney wanted to see him, and sometimes even when he wanted to give a groveling apology. If he was going to be hanging around Rodney for any foreseeable future, he’d have to get used to taking second place to the glowy Ancient artifacts.
Which…huh. Was he going to be hanging around Rodney in the foreseeable future?
There was the whole matter of having to be back at base in two days. The idea of that actually stopping Rodney if he decided he wanted John around anyway was laughable, but the question was, how would he go about it, exactly? And did John get to be a living thinking being in this decision, or was he another obstacle between The Great and Powerful McKay and his glowy Ancient artifacts? And/or Nobel Prize.
Because okay, sure, watching Rodney get all lit-up (metaphorically) and happy about the Ancient objects being lit up (literally) and happy was…nice. But he maybe didn’t want to spend the next few years touching things at Rodney’s command. He was happy with the Air Force gig, despite certain…misunderstandings. And he could see how being at Rodney’s permanent beck and call would be both boring and irritating, oh yeah.
But-Rodney.
Right. And that was another problem.
~~~
He explored the mansion for awhile. It was huge, and full of rooms that were really, obviously, tastelessly rich, and also rooms that were full of science paraphernalia, and also rooms that looked like they belonged to a penniless slob of a grad student. So John figured that, in reverse order, they were the rooms in which Rodney lived, worked, and laughed smugly at all the people who had less money than he did.
Eventually, he ran out of rooms, and for lack of anything better to do (and because he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the house) he went back to his own room, and sprawled out on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
~~~
After a really long time, during which he was served dinner, and the room slowly darkened, and he eventually picked up War and Peace again, Rodney came in. Right behind him was a blond woman. No, a blond lieutenant colonel. In dress blues. John pushed himself up. “Colonel.”
“Major.” She nodded. “At ease.”
John relaxed and looked at Rodney, who looked-twitchy.
“Ah. John, this is Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter. Sam, Major John Sheppard. Sam’s been involved in the Stargate program since its inception, and I thought she’d be a better choice to fill you in on the military side of things.” Rodney paused. “Since you’ll obviously be working with them in the future. And you’ve been given full clearance by General O’Neill-”
“Because you’d already told him everything,” Carter put in, but she was smiling.
“Right, right, well, you’d have gotten it anyway, this just pushed things along faster. So, uh, you two talk. Have fun. I have to-go.” He almost bolted out the door.
What the hell is with him? John thought. And-Sam? But Colonel Carter was smiling and saying, “So, Major Sheppard. May I sit down?”
“Sure,” said John, and she took the chair at the dressing table. He sat back down on the bed. Having a colonel in his bedroom felt-weird. Especially a gorgeous colonel, because how often did you see one of those?
“So I’m guessing this is all a little overwhelming right now,” Carter said, crossing her legs and leaning forward.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean-aliens.”
“Exactly,” she said. “So…let me fill you in a little better than Rodney probably did.”
She talked for awhile, and John just sat back and absorbed it all. Aliens and wormholes and ancient civilizations and lost cities and glowy white ascended beings. She’d brought a laptop in a carrying case, and she set it up and showed him a clip of the wormhole engaging.
“Wait,” said John, sitting up. “I saw that.”
She frowned. “You actually saw this? When? Where?”
“No, I mean-the thing showed it to me. The ancient device,” John clarified. “There were stars and weird symbols and I saw the-wormhole. And-actually, I saw the floating city, too. Rodney was really excited about it,” he added reflectively.
Carter leaned forward. “I bet he was. Can you draw the symbols for me?”
She handed him a notepad, and he drew them out. She frowned at the paper. “There’s eight symbols here.”
“Those are the ones I saw.”
“But a gate address is only seven-except-” Her eyes widened. “Eight. Eight symbols. Of course. I have to tell General O’Neill about this-I have to tell Daniel about this-Dr. Weir is going to be thrilled.”
This thing where he didn’t know what was going on was starting to get really, really irritating. “Why, exactly? What is it?”
She grinned at him. “This is the address of the lost city of the Ancients. Atlantis. We’ve been trying to put together an expedition to go there for a long time, but we could never find out where it was.” She took a breath, staring down at the paper. “This is amazing. Did you show these to Rodney?”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to mention the symbols, he was too busy shoving things into my hands. But he wants to go, doesn’t he.” It wasn’t really a question. Judging from Rodney’s reaction to the ten or twelve pieces of Ancient technology in his lab, going to a whole city full of it would probably be orgasmic.
“He’s been telling us forever that we aren’t going to find it, which we’ve taken to mean that he wants to find it first,” Carter said, her mouth twitching. There was some sort of history between these two, definitely, even forgetting that they were on a first-name basis. “But now that we have you, I’m sure he’ll want to come back to the program. I can’t believe that he’s been satisfied with the black market for seven years.”
But-you didn’t have to have me, John thought. Rodney could have kept me all to himself, or he could have traded me for something. But he hadn’t, had he? He’d called up Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter here, and just given John to them. He’d even said-Since you’ll obviously be working with them in the future.
“Where does Rodney fit in to all this, exactly?” John asked abruptly. “I mean, I know he was with the program at the beginning, and he left for-well, he said moral reasons-” because he’d figured out where that new place was right away; it hadn’t been hard to fill in the blanks on the why-I-hate-the-military story at all-“but that’s about all I know.”
“Don’t tell him I said this, but Rodney’s one of the most brilliant scientists on the planet at the moment,” Carter started.
“I think he knows that already.”
She laughed. “Point taken. What you said is true-he was an integral part of the program, at its start. But-well, the U.S. military isn’t perfect,” and, well, first, no shit, and second there was some weight behind those words. She’d seen some of that up close. “Sometimes, when coming into contact with new civilizations, there are problems. Honestly, I’m not sure I entirely disagree with Rodney’s decision to leave. That was a bad situation, and it was handled badly, and given policy, it’s possible that it could happen again.” She paused, breathed deep. “Anyway, Rodney left. He’s spent the last seven years working independently. Every so often we’ll get him in to consult on something, and he’s published a few papers that have been helpful.” She smiled. “He’s very good at working Gate-related material into what looks like normal advances in astrophysics. He also usually manages to get his hands on anything published within the Stargate community, which we haven’t tried too hard to stop, because when he chooses to be, he is helpful, and despite being an arrogant jerk most of the time,” John started at that, but she was still smiling, and, well, it was true, “several people in the SGC vouch for his basic goodwill. He doesn’t quite have security clearance, because he did leave the program, and got some of the powers that be mad at him in the process, but he’s…around.”
“Huh.” John contemplated this. “So…he’ll be going on this expedition, then?”
“The Atlantis expedition will be a civilian-run operation, so I’m certain that he’ll at least be invited, considering his level of expertise in wormhole physics and Ancient technology. Whether he accepts is his decision. The same goes for you.”
“Oh-wait, what?” That sounded like-
“You’re being considered for the mission, Major. I understand your record is being reviewed by Dr. Weir, who will be heading the expedition, and General O’Neill.”
Well, there went that opportunity.
“Major.”
He looked up.
“General O’Neill is a-well, he’s somewhat unorthodox. And Dr. Weir is a civilian.” She paused. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think there will be as many problems as you might expect. Also, you’ll have a personal meeting with each of them. Dr. Weir will probably want to give you a tour of the facility in Antarctica. And, of course, if they decide to invite you, the final decision is yours.”
God. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
“Of course.” She stood, and when he followed, handed him a blank card with a phone number written on it in pen. “If you have any other questions, please feel free to call me at this number.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“Major.” She nodded and left.
John sprawled out on the bed again.
Another planet. Another galaxy. Atlantis. Aliens. Wormholes. Rodney.
Jesus fucking Christ.
It was too much to take in all at once. He couldn’t get his head around it.
At least, he thought hysterically, his parents probably wouldn’t have to worry. Rodney was going to be thinking about other things.
Jesus. All this, because he said yes to a date with Trixie Venables.
~~~
Rodney came back after awhile. It was late-night by then, but John wasn’t asleep and he hadn’t bothered to turn out the lights. He watched as Rodney fidgeted around the room for a minute, then turned the dressing table chair around backwards and sat in it.
“So,” said Rodney.
“So?”
“So what did you think? Did Sam sell it? Are you joining the SG program? What are you going to do?”
John sighed. “Good question.”
Rodney’s mouth quirked. “Yeah, I see that.” A pause. “So, Sam said you had something to tell me?”
John blinked. “I do?”
“Yeah, something about the little-star-map thing.”
“She didn’t tell you? I saw the Gate symbols for Atlantis. They’re going to send an expedition. Or that was what Carter implied.”
Rodney had frozen at Atlantis and was just staring at him.
“Rodney?”
“They’re sending the expedition.”
“Probably, yeah.”
“The expedition to Atlantis.”
“Rodney, are you okay?”
Rodney jumped up from the chair. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it. You saw the symbols. Why didn’t you tell me, for God’s sake? Do you realize-I might not have-but this means-do they want you?”
“What?” said John, who’d been trying to follow the sentence fragments.
“On the mission,” said Rodney, impatient. “Do they want you on the mission.”
“I don’t know yet. But Carter seemed to think it was pretty likely.”
“I knew it. I knew it! They want you, and they’ll ask me, and oh my God” and Rodney spun to a stop right in front of him and there were big hands on his face and Rodney was kissing him, hard.
That lasted for about half a second, until Rodney stumbled back, looking absolutely horrified. “I-I’m sorry. John. I-I-the body does strange things under stress, do you know how much adrenaline is coursing through my system right now-”
This wasn’t allowed. He couldn’t-dammit. “Rodney. Rodney. Shut up.” Because he couldn’t think with the light, panicky ramble going on all around him, couldn’t look at Rodney’s nervous, twitchy expression, because-
Sex. Sex with Rodney. Jesus, he was almost hard already.
Screw it. Getting invited to go to another galaxy had to be some kind of special occasion, and he deserved something for being held captive for a week, and Rodney had shut up and was staring at him, wide-eyed.
He stared back for a second-are you really going to do this-and yes he was, dammit. “Do that again,” and it came out low and sexy, and he got to watch Rodney’s pupils dilate.
“I-okay-” and then Rodney was kissing him again, and thank God, he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
Rodney kissed hard and fast, like he was starving for it, and John opened his mouth and took it, because, God. And before he really knew what was going on, he’d been pushed back against the pillows, Rodney breaking off from his mouth to lick along his collarbone, whispering, “God, I wanted you the first day I saw you, do you have any idea, can’t believe I gave you these clothes-” and John arched his back and gasped for air.
Soon they were back to making out, John’s legs falling apart to let Rodney in between them, which felt amazing. Rodney was really solid, heavy over him, so much mass moving against his body. John licked his way down Rodney’s neck, stopping at the space right between neck and shoulder, even though it kind of hurt his neck to bend that way, and bit down. Rodney shuddered. God. “Clothes,” John gasped. “Clothes off, now.”
“Yes, yes, good,” said Rodney, and rolled off, and they got naked, sex-clumsy with buttons and zippers but getting there eventually, and then they were kissing again, hot and hungry and so much skin.
And he wanted-“Fuck me,” he said, low and hoarse. And seeing Rodney’s eyes glaze over might have been almost enough of a reward, but then Rodney was reaching for the spindly bedside table. John had found the condoms and lube there the first day, when he was searching the room, and had figured that if you had a room like this, you kept it stocked, and forgotten about it until just now, and Rodney was slicking his fingers-
Rodney really had very big hands, John thought abstractedly a second later, which he’d known, but hadn’t really had driven home before. Rodney added a second finger, and John started to feel the burn, just a little. It hadn’t been too long since he’d last done this-remembering his last trip out, the guy who’d fucked him into the mattress, still feeling it on base the next day, which was almost the best part-and Rodney’s fingers were more than long enough to find his prostate oh Jesus God. He was making noise, seeing bright sparks in the air every time Rodney hit the spot, and he was going to come just like this if Rodney didn’t get on with it.
But then the fingers were gone, and Rodney was tearing open a condom package with shaking, slippery hands, and John closed his eyes and waited. And-yes, there it was, Rodney’s dick pressing into him, burning.
Rodney paused once, just all the way in, and breathed for a second, until John squirmed a little and said, “Hurry up already, fuck me,” and Rodney made a sharp noise in the back of his throat and pulled out and started thrusting.
God. God. He always forgot just how good this was. Rodney bit his collarbone on the downstroke, and John groaned.
“God,” said Rodney, “oh God, you’re so-you’re-” and thrust once, hard, and that was it, he was coming.
After that was a boneless minute or so where every thrust just tossed him higher, till he thought he’d be speaking in tongues by the time Rodney came. When Rodney froze over him, mouth open, and let out his breath in a long sigh, he was almost fainting.
After a long, sweaty, sticky moment, Rodney pulled out and disposed of the condom, came back with a wet washcloth and cleaned them off, and then flopped down next to John. “God. That was fabulous. That was maybe the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Mmm,” said John, thinking, of course he’s wired after sex. Of course.
But Rodney seemed content to just lie there, thrumming, and eventually rubbing circles into the palm of John’s hand, while John slowly drifted off to sleep.
~~~
When he woke up, it was bright outside and Rodney was sitting bolt upright, looking around frantically.
John stretched, which felt really good. Just a little sore in all the right places, yeah. “What is it, Rodney?”
“What time is it?”
“Dunno.” He yawned. “No clock in here.”
“There’s no clock in here? Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
“Well, I thought about it a couple times.”
“I can imagine. God. I really didn’t put a clock in here? Why would I do that?” Rodney was up and pulling his clothes on. “Well, I know approximately what time it is, which is late, so I’ll be going now, see you later, last night was really great. Oh, except-” and Rodney paused with only his pants and socks on and leaned in to kiss him, closemouthed but long. John closed his eyes and enjoyed it.
“I-I want to tell you you’re amazing, but I think I’d just sound like every cheesy movie ever, so-something else that means the same thing but is witty and original, okay?”
“Okay,” said John. He watched Rodney finish getting dressed and leave, and sank back down into the pillows for more sleep.
~~~
Breakfast woke him up again, and amid waffles and out-of-season fruit-although come to think of it, he had no idea where he was, it could be in season here-he started wondering what was going to happen next. It was the morning of Day Seven of Rodney’s hospitality. He assumed that Colonel Carter or General O’Neill or someone had contacted Colonel Harrisburg, and he was being transferred to the SGC at least temporarily, but he didn’t have any orders to that effect in his hands yet. He also assumed that that would happen today, since his leave was officially over tomorrow morning, but really, whatever. Assuming the transfer did happen, the SGC knew where to find him.
After breakfast, though, In Conclusion: Waiter told him to follow him, so John walked behind him as he wheeled the little breakfast cart thing through the halls, paused briefly while he dropped the thing off in the kitchen, and ended up in a sitting room that he remembered vaguely from his self-guided tour the day before. There was a slender, dark-haired woman waiting, and she stood up when John came in.
“Major Sheppard,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Elizabeth Weir. It’s nice to meet you.”
~~~
“You’ve been officially transferred to the SGC, and General O’Neill has agreed to allow you on the mission. I’m the last link in the chain before your decision, and I have to say, I like what I’ve read, and I like what I see. And what I’ve heard that you can do with Ancient technology is amazing.” Weir was perched on the edge of a couch, sipping a cup of tea. John hadn’t decided if he liked her yet or not.
“Thank you,” he said after a second.
She nodded. “Let me see if I can fill you in a little bit as to what the mission would actually entail. You’d be serving under Colonel Marshall Sumner, who is an excellent officer, alongside some of the best men and women in the service. It’s a small mission, seventy or so people, and civilian-run. There’ll be a lot of scientists-physicists, chemists, biologists-under your protection.”
“And where we’re going?”
Weir sat back. “Atlantis. Well-no one really knows. We’re talking about huge amounts of time here, Major. Anything could have happened to the city. It could be totally gone-or it could be exactly as it was millennia ago. One thing I’m absolutely certain of, though,” leaning forward again, “is that the Ancients must have left their mark on that galaxy, just as they left their mark on ours. We’ll find something, Major. I know it.”
Huh. Obviously a dedicated person, sure. He wondered how many other people knew that.
“There is something else,” she continued, looking less starry-eyed. “Rodney and the people at the SGC have been looking this over” and when had Rodney done that? this morning? He worked fast, “and, given the huge amounts of previous research done by Rodney especially,” okay, not this morning, good, “there’s a good chance that this may be a one-way trip. We have no way of knowing if we’ll find a power source at the other end strong enough to send us back home.”
There was always a catch.
Weir spent a few more minutes talking about the wonders of Atlantis and all the great people he’d be working with, then stood up. He stood with her, and as she shook his hand, she said, “Major Sheppard, I hope you’ll choose to come with us. But whether you do or you don’t, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving us this opportunity.”
Which left him with nothing to say, really, but she gave him a firm nod and walked out right away, so he didn’t have to.
Come to Atlantis. Where the technology will love you, unless there isn’t any anymore. Where wonders will be discovered, unless they’re all gone. Where you’ll get amazing stories to tell all your friends, unless it turns out you can never come home. Where you and Dr. Rodney McKay can have as much sex as you want, unless you run into something that kills you all.
Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis.
John decided what he really needed was perspective.
~~~
He was officially transferred to the SGC, who approved another week’s leave-he’d built up a lot, lately, and if he was going to another galaxy, he might as well use it all-which he spent appreciating Earth. Hamburgers, bad science fiction movies, road trips, sushi, bars. He thought about going to see the pyramids, and then he remembered a couple things that someone had told him about the Goa’uld and didn’t.
He did visit his parents, which could have been really unpleasant, but he came in on the attack, stationing himself attention-straight in the living room, and said “I solved your problem for you.”
His dad had always been semi-awed by John as Competent Military Guy, which meant that he spent more time at attention at his parents’ house than he did when on base, most visits. He’d waited while his dad stared, mouth working silently, until he’d absorbed the information and could say, kind of choking, “Thanks, Johnny. That means a lot.”
Which felt pretty good, even though he then had to calm his mother down about the kidnapping thing. They made him stay for dinner, which reminded him again that while he loved his parents just fine, prolonged exposure drove him insane.
After he left, he went to an amusement park, and thought about all the stuff he might never see again. And then he went back to his hotel and tried to sleep, and the next morning he got up and flew to New York, where he went up in the Empire State Building and ate a turkey sandwich sitting in Central Park.
Pros, cons. Pros, cons.
Rodney had said goodbye without looking him in the eye, and had then launched into a crazy monologue about considering things carefully and he knew it was a big step, but really, John, understand the opportunity here-and John had cut him off with a kiss, and after that Rodney had only said, very quietly, “Please come.” And then he’d turned around and left John standing in the hallway with nothing to say.
Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis.
Even the machines wanted him to come. He’d picked up a few more for Rodney and for the SGC, and they-hummed at him, and he could almost hear them whispering in his ear, Come to Atlantis. You belong in Atlantis.
Or maybe he was just going nuts.
But he thought about it. He thought about it and thought about it and thought about it, until he was driving himself up the wall, Atlantis or not? Atlantis or not? Atlantis or not? He even flipped a coin once, which didn’t help, because it came up pro, which just felt like the universe was conspiring against him.
He thought about Rodney a lot. He kept starting awake at three in the morning and expecting to see the cell phone bobbing in through the door.
On the seventh day, he went to Canada (where, it turned out, Rodney’s mansion was) and was let in through the security gate and the other security gate and searched for weapons and oranges and finally let through the door and showed to the sitting room in which he’d met Dr. Weir.
Rodney showed up in less than five minutes, looking anxious and twitchy. “John. Hello. Welcome back. I-have you decided?”
John breathed in. Come to Atlantis. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
end
“Working. I can’t get anything done in the lab, it’s full of people being idiots and distracting me. I usually work with Zelenka, who’s actually almost as smart as I am, but he left for Russia yesterday, which leaves no buffer between me and the idiots. So I figured I’d come in here, because you at least aren’t too much of an idiot. Aside from the whole marriage thing, which we aren’t talking about because I’m in a good mood and want to stay that way.”
“I don’t know, Rodney, aren’t you afraid I’ll distract you, too?” John asked. He was way too amused for his own good, but it was just-so Rodney. Well. What he was thinking was more like “so weird”, but in his head, the two terms were just about synonymous, anyway. And it wasn’t bad weird.
“Nope, because you’re going to be working on these.” Rodney thrust a stack of papers and a calculator at him. “Equations. Go.”
John blinked. “Now you’re using me for slave labor?”
“You wanted amusement, and you claimed to be able to do math. If they’re too hard, let me know and I’ll give you easier ones. And if you’re worried about slave labor, I’ll pay you. How’s a thousand per equation, and a bonus if you finish them before I need them?”
“American or Canadian?” John asked, because he’d caught the “Zed” in ZPM last night, and he vaguely remembered his dad calling McKay a Canadian sonofabitch, back when he first started working for him.
“You’d take Canadian?”
“Well-no.”
“That’s what I figured. Hard ugly green American money. Now start working.”
John grinned and bent down over the math.
It actually was kind of fun, working through the numbers, although he couldn’t figure out what they were going to be used for to save his life. Something complicated, okay, but usually if he was working through physics, he could at least figure out what sort of movement, force, mass, whatever he was dealing with. This, no way.
But the numbers were fun.
He handed the first set to Rodney when he was done, who scanned them with surprised approval. “Huh. I really didn’t expect you to be able to do these.”
John shrugged. “It’s just math.”
“Yes, well, knowing prime numbers really doesn’t prepare you for this sort of thing. Good job. And, bonus, I won’t need them for another ten minutes or so.” Rodney smiled, a quick lopsided thing, and turned back to his laptop.
Huh, thought John, and bent over the next set.
It occurred to him at one point that he probably shouldn’t be aiding and abetting the enemy like this. But Rodney probably knew hundreds of people who he could order to do this, and-well. Rodney just didn’t seem the type for a superweapon.
He hoped.
That thought kept him uncomfortable and mildly worried for half an hour, thinking about scientists at Los Alamos and who really knew what these equations were for, anyway? But then Rodney snapped his fingers and said, “What, aren’t you done yet? Better be in the next five minutes, come on,” and the irritation at his-McKay-ish-ness-got him through to the end.
And he really didn’t believe that Rodney was developing a superweapon. He just-he didn’t believe it. What would he do with it, first of all? He was already a billionaire, already had tons of people who maybe he called idiots, but yeah right, working for him, and okay, maybe Rodney might like the idea of the Rodney McKay Empire, but he’d never seriously want that much responsibility, John figured.
He was good at judging his people. And he judged Rodney to be an arrogant asshole, but not a power-hungry megalomaniac.
“Come on,” said Rodney, “aren’t you finished yet? You started out so well,” and John made a couple more calculations and handed him another stack of papers.
“Huh,” said Rodney just after lunch. “That was amazing. Not as fast as the computer does it, but you’re less likely to crash when I’ve forgotten to save. I don’t suppose you want to quit the Air Force and work for me?”
“That’d be a no,” said John.
“Right, right, I figured. But this is working, it’s really working.”
“What is it, exactly?” John asked, waiting for the can’t tell you.
“It’s a theoretical wormhole physics model.”
John blinked. “Oh.” Wormhole physics? McKay was maybe more interested in science fiction than he’d thought.
“Oh,” said Rodney as an afterthought, “don’t mention those words to any of your superiors, because if any of them are actually cleared to know about stuff like this, you might end up under interrogation or something. But, yeah, wormhole physics. If I could tell you more about it, I would.”
“Okay,” said John, but Rodney had jumped up and wasn’t listening anymore.
“And, wow, it’s finished. Okay, I have to go test this. I’ll come back tonight. Read for awhile or something. I wish you could see what this is going to do!”
So, not a superweapon, then.
Probably.
~~~
When Rodney showed up again, after dinner, John really kind of wanted to relax and banter and maybe play a round of prime/not prime, but this was the end of Day Five, here, and if he wanted to convince McKay, he was going to have to start lobbying now.
So after a couple minutes of small talk, John said, “So. My parents.”
Rodney winced and said, “John, I’ve told you. No. I-I’m sorry if this means that you hate me forever. I’m-probably more sorry than you realize. But I can’t.”
“Okay, I get that,” said John, even though he totally didn’t, “but couldn’t you-like-do something else? Something that just looks like you’re getting back at them?”
“What, like kidnap you forever, for real?” Rodney kind of perked up at that idea, and John jumped forward to stomp on it, because as much as it sounded kind of nice, he was already climbing the walls after five days. Plus, duty to the USAF and everything.
“No, sorry, I have this job thing-but maybe something else. They could move and you could pretend you’d disappeared them. Or you could make like it was a plan against your enemies” which, okay, sounded hokey beyond belief, but also very Rodney, so whatever “and Dad was on your side the whole time, or-or something, Rodney.” Because if you don’t, I’m going to have to do something horrible to you just so I can live with myself, and I don’t want to. I really, really don’t.
Rodney looked thoughtful. “Huh. I wonder why I didn’t think of that before. All your ideas are stupid and pedantic, of course-”
Of course. John wasn’t even offended.
“-but maybe I can work something out. I-let me think about it. But maybe-maybe it could work.” Rodney was frowning slightly, but also looking suddenly really, really happy.
“So, uh,” said John, “3317.”
“What? Oh-not prime.” And he was seeing that lopsided smile again, and, huh, John thought, Rodney hardly ever smiles.
~~~
This time, it was two AM.
John wasn’t even surprised, really. He didn’t bother sitting up. Rodney wasn’t actively talking on the cell phone, but he was carrying it and it was on, the same little blue glow. “Rodney-”
“Shut up,” said Rodney, and his voice was high, tight, tense. John snapped fully awake and tried to study Rodney’s face in the cell phone light, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
And then Rodney sat down on the bed, which he’d never done before, not in five days of captivity, and Jesus Christ, what was wrong?
Rodney spent about thirty seconds sitting there, not saying anything, and then he grabbed John’s hand with one of his, and dialed the phone with the other one. John stared down at their joined hands and couldn’t make any sense out of anything.
“Yes, it’s McKay again,” snapped Rodney when whoever it was picked up. “Have they made any progress? Look, I don’t care about clearance, I think that as a person who lives on this world I have a right to know-yes, please put him on.” Pause. “How is it? Have they figured it-no, of course they haven’t. Look, General, you need me on this one, I can help you-I have sources of intelligence, if you must know-oh.” Quieter, suddenly. “Oh. That isn’t long enough, no. But-they’re trying something. All right. Tell Carter-no.” Fierce, suddenly, and looking right at John. “Don’t tell her anything. Thank you, General. Goodbye.”
“Rodney, what-” John started.
“Don’t. Just-don’t.”
After that, going by the cell phone, there were five minutes of silence. Rodney’s grip on his hand got tighter every time the numbers clicked over. Eventually John gave up watching the clock and studied Rodney’s face. It was too dark to see much, but Rodney looked-hurt. Bruised.
Three minutes later, Rodney squeezed his eyes shut. John was still clueless, but he tightened his own grip and waited.
Eventually, Rodney said, “John?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you tell me what time it is?”
John looked at the cell phone. “Three twenty-seven.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Rodney opened his eyes and stared at the phone. Then at John. And then his whole body seemed to relax, all at once. “Oh thank God.”
Okay.
Rodney picked up the phone, and-his hand was shaking. What the hell was going on here?
“Hello, it’s McKay-they did? It is? Good, good. Just-checking. Yes, thank you, me too. Yes. Yes. Goodbye.”
The phone landed on the bedspread, and Rodney just seemed to collapse. He landed sort of on top of John, and didn’t move.
“Rodney?” John asked after a second.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
Okay. “Do you-” want to move, but he didn’t finish the sentence, because Rodney was shifting a little, just moving so his head was on John’s chest and his thumb was stroking softly along the strip of skin between the loose shirt and pants John had been wearing to bed, and wow, that was new. His other hand was still holding onto John’s.
Who knew he had so many nerves right there?
“Rodney,” John tried again. He didn’t have any idea what he was going to say, but-this. This was against the rules.
He’d never tried to apply the rules in a four-poster with silk sheets, before, though. And he’d never tried with someone like Rodney.
“Shh,” said Rodney. “In a second I’m going to think about what I’m doing. But the last twenty minutes were up there with the worst in my life, and I think I deserve a few minutes doing whatever the hell I want to.”
“Okay,” said John, because…okay.
And Rodney just kept stroking, right there, and it was starting to feel like every single nerve in his body was right there in that two-inch space. It went on for what felt like hours.
But eventually Rodney sat up, looked down, and went, “Um.” And he let go of John’s hand, which had pins-and-needles by now, and picked up the cell phone, and said, “Um. Thanks. And I-have to go. Now. So I’ll…see you tomorrow.”
“Wait-Rodney, what was that?”
Rodney sighed. “It’s classified,” he said, and he turned and left.
And John stared up at the ceiling and thought, I didn’t mean that.
~~~
At nine AM on Day Six, Rodney turned up determinedly cheerful, and apparently pretending that the night before had never happened. John hadn’t decided whether he was going to let him get away with it or not, but he played along for the moment.
This time, Rodney had a bunch of papers and a laptop and a little metal thing, which he set on the dressing table. “Don’t touch that,” he said. “I was going to do some more work, do you want to do some more work?”
“I-” said John.
“Good, because I have plenty of work. What do you say to more equations? And did you have a good breakfast? I had them go out and buy orange juice especially for you, which I hope you appreciate, because normally I don’t even let the stuff inside my house-”
“Rodney, I need to ask you something,” said John, because after last night he was really paranoid.
Rodney stopped, and his mouth did that thing where he wasn’t sure what to say and it was a bad thing. “Okay,” he said finally, nervously.
“Are we building a weapon?”
And Rodney looked so surprised that John breathed out in relief before he even answered, because no way was Rodney that good of a liar. “What-no! No, we are not building a weapon, and even if we were, it wouldn’t be used on-” and he stopped really fast. “No,” he said. “I don’t build weapons for the military. This is something else, I swear.”
“Okay,” said John, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders start unraveling. “Good.”
Rodney brightened. “So-equations?”
So John worked equations for awhile, while Rodney typed away, and occasionally opened up the little metal thing and did things to its insides, and typed some more, and pounced on John’s math whenever he handed a new set over.
And really, it was kind of fun. Math, which John hadn’t done in forever, and also he got to watch Rodney work, which was a treat. All focused and intent and totally manic, and his eyes were bright and excited whenever he looked at John, and-
-and maybe it was kind of a turn-on. But-whatever.
When lunch arrived, Rodney snapped the laptop shut and jumped up, sending Waiter, No Really out the door and making happy noises over the food. John grinned at him, although he felt mildly thwarted that he couldn’t lean over and figure out what Rodney was working on, because the laptop was kept pointedly turned away from him whenever they were working.
Instead, he reached out and picked up the little metal thing.
It lit up in his hand, and he said, “Whoa!” because it hadn’t done anything like that with Rodney, and almost dropped it.
“What are you-I said not to touch that! Except-wait-” Rodney practically teleported over and stared at the thing, which was now glowing bluish and humming happily. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“What?” said John. “Why is it doing that?”
“Because you have been sent by God into my hands, that’s why,” said Rodney. “I cannot believe I have had you locked up in a room for a week and I never realized-this is amazing. You have to come with me right now.”
“I-what?” John asked, but Rodney was already dragging him out of the room-and hey, hallways! Guard Slash Waiter guy gave them kind of a bug-eyed look, but since John was going about Mach 2 by then, he only saw it for a second.
Rodney pulled him through several miles of hallways, up some stairs, down some other stairs, and finally into an elevator, where he spent the three-second ride bouncing on his toes, impatient. When the doors pinged open, he grabbed John’s hand again-and what was it with the hand-holding, lately?-and dragged him down more hallways, until he finally deposited John in a gleaming silver lab populated by a bunch of people wearing lab coats and surprised expressions.
“Salvation,” said Rodney, “has arrived. In the form of Major Sheppard, here. Pick that up, John.” He pointed to a weirdly-shaped metal thingy sitting on a table.
John picked it up. It started vibrating in his hand, but he’d expected something like this, so he managed not to drop it. It also felt kind of weird-like there was someone inside it, almost. Like it was a sentient thing, itself. “What is this?”
“That,” said Rodney, “is an Ancient artifact. It was found in Antarctica, and I acquired it through semilegal means. I have no idea what it does. But now I’m going to learn. You are my new favorite person ever. Now touch that.”
John put his hand on the other thing. It felt-empty, kind of. “I think this one’s out of power.”
“Oh my God, you can tell that? What else can you tell? Do you know what it does? Do you know what the other thing does?”
John looked around the room. The people were in various states of shock. “Forget them, Rodney,” said one, an Asian man. “He needs to touch this one.”
“And this one,” said a redheaded woman. “Oh, God. He needs to try the chair.”
“The chair is under military control, thank you, and I’m keeping Major Sheppard-oh, wait. Huh. You probably could get to the chair, couldn’t you.” Rodney was staring at him with a contemplative expression that kind of made John worried.
“Okay,” said John. “I’m happy that I can make the stuff light up for you. That’s great. But you need to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Ah.” Rodney fidgeted a little. “That’s-kind of a long story.”
“First touch this,” said the Asian guy. “Just-touch it. It’ll probably help with your question, anyway.”
John really wasn’t sure about that, but he picked the thing up and-whoa.
There was a galaxy in his head-no, two galaxies-and a city, a city in the sea. He was spiraling between two stars-there was a star map, and there were eight weird symbols, looked like an ancient language-or-no, an alien language-or no, wait, both-and then there was a big metal circle thingy and what the hell was that, water or something?
Rodney caught the thing when John dropped it.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” said John. “Aliens. Or-what?”
“That’s pretty much it,” said Rodney. “Aliens. Or what.”
~~~
So apparently the world had almost ended the night before.
Which, okay, John understood the freaking out and the hand-holding and the telephone call a lot better, but-the world had almost ended. And nobody even knew about it. Jesus fucking Christ.
Maybe he understood a little better why Rodney would have been willing to bankrupt mostly-innocent (or, well, guilty) people, if it was going to keep the world from ending. Although, still no, and he thought he was going to stay mad at Rodney about that for a long, long time.
They kept giving him stuff to touch, and also they kept talking about the Antarctican chair, which was one of the things he wasn’t too clear on yet. Also he couldn’t pronounce the name of the evil aliens to save his life, but judging from the four different ways he heard it among the scientist people, that was sort of a universal thing.
He also got to hold the Ancient star-map thing again, which was cool. The second time he put it down, Rodney was looking at him speculatively. “What?”
“You just look really-interesting when you do that.”
“Interesting.”
“Um-yes. Here-hold this now,” and something else was being thrust at him.
Eventually they ran out of artifacts, and Rodney snapped from you are the light of my life to John who? and waved him out of the lab. “Go get some food or something, I’m done with you for now,” except John didn’t know where the hell anything was, and when he tried to point that out, Rodney just snapped, “Busy now! Thank you, you’re very helpful, but I need to look at this stuff now! I’ll pay you a million dollars for this, but go away now.”
John actually felt kind of hurt at that, although he supposed that up till now, his sole contact with Rodney had been when Rodney wanted to see him, and sometimes even when he wanted to give a groveling apology. If he was going to be hanging around Rodney for any foreseeable future, he’d have to get used to taking second place to the glowy Ancient artifacts.
Which…huh. Was he going to be hanging around Rodney in the foreseeable future?
There was the whole matter of having to be back at base in two days. The idea of that actually stopping Rodney if he decided he wanted John around anyway was laughable, but the question was, how would he go about it, exactly? And did John get to be a living thinking being in this decision, or was he another obstacle between The Great and Powerful McKay and his glowy Ancient artifacts? And/or Nobel Prize.
Because okay, sure, watching Rodney get all lit-up (metaphorically) and happy about the Ancient objects being lit up (literally) and happy was…nice. But he maybe didn’t want to spend the next few years touching things at Rodney’s command. He was happy with the Air Force gig, despite certain…misunderstandings. And he could see how being at Rodney’s permanent beck and call would be both boring and irritating, oh yeah.
But-Rodney.
Right. And that was another problem.
~~~
He explored the mansion for awhile. It was huge, and full of rooms that were really, obviously, tastelessly rich, and also rooms that were full of science paraphernalia, and also rooms that looked like they belonged to a penniless slob of a grad student. So John figured that, in reverse order, they were the rooms in which Rodney lived, worked, and laughed smugly at all the people who had less money than he did.
Eventually, he ran out of rooms, and for lack of anything better to do (and because he was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the house) he went back to his own room, and sprawled out on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
~~~
After a really long time, during which he was served dinner, and the room slowly darkened, and he eventually picked up War and Peace again, Rodney came in. Right behind him was a blond woman. No, a blond lieutenant colonel. In dress blues. John pushed himself up. “Colonel.”
“Major.” She nodded. “At ease.”
John relaxed and looked at Rodney, who looked-twitchy.
“Ah. John, this is Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter. Sam, Major John Sheppard. Sam’s been involved in the Stargate program since its inception, and I thought she’d be a better choice to fill you in on the military side of things.” Rodney paused. “Since you’ll obviously be working with them in the future. And you’ve been given full clearance by General O’Neill-”
“Because you’d already told him everything,” Carter put in, but she was smiling.
“Right, right, well, you’d have gotten it anyway, this just pushed things along faster. So, uh, you two talk. Have fun. I have to-go.” He almost bolted out the door.
What the hell is with him? John thought. And-Sam? But Colonel Carter was smiling and saying, “So, Major Sheppard. May I sit down?”
“Sure,” said John, and she took the chair at the dressing table. He sat back down on the bed. Having a colonel in his bedroom felt-weird. Especially a gorgeous colonel, because how often did you see one of those?
“So I’m guessing this is all a little overwhelming right now,” Carter said, crossing her legs and leaning forward.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean-aliens.”
“Exactly,” she said. “So…let me fill you in a little better than Rodney probably did.”
She talked for awhile, and John just sat back and absorbed it all. Aliens and wormholes and ancient civilizations and lost cities and glowy white ascended beings. She’d brought a laptop in a carrying case, and she set it up and showed him a clip of the wormhole engaging.
“Wait,” said John, sitting up. “I saw that.”
She frowned. “You actually saw this? When? Where?”
“No, I mean-the thing showed it to me. The ancient device,” John clarified. “There were stars and weird symbols and I saw the-wormhole. And-actually, I saw the floating city, too. Rodney was really excited about it,” he added reflectively.
Carter leaned forward. “I bet he was. Can you draw the symbols for me?”
She handed him a notepad, and he drew them out. She frowned at the paper. “There’s eight symbols here.”
“Those are the ones I saw.”
“But a gate address is only seven-except-” Her eyes widened. “Eight. Eight symbols. Of course. I have to tell General O’Neill about this-I have to tell Daniel about this-Dr. Weir is going to be thrilled.”
This thing where he didn’t know what was going on was starting to get really, really irritating. “Why, exactly? What is it?”
She grinned at him. “This is the address of the lost city of the Ancients. Atlantis. We’ve been trying to put together an expedition to go there for a long time, but we could never find out where it was.” She took a breath, staring down at the paper. “This is amazing. Did you show these to Rodney?”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to mention the symbols, he was too busy shoving things into my hands. But he wants to go, doesn’t he.” It wasn’t really a question. Judging from Rodney’s reaction to the ten or twelve pieces of Ancient technology in his lab, going to a whole city full of it would probably be orgasmic.
“He’s been telling us forever that we aren’t going to find it, which we’ve taken to mean that he wants to find it first,” Carter said, her mouth twitching. There was some sort of history between these two, definitely, even forgetting that they were on a first-name basis. “But now that we have you, I’m sure he’ll want to come back to the program. I can’t believe that he’s been satisfied with the black market for seven years.”
But-you didn’t have to have me, John thought. Rodney could have kept me all to himself, or he could have traded me for something. But he hadn’t, had he? He’d called up Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter here, and just given John to them. He’d even said-Since you’ll obviously be working with them in the future.
“Where does Rodney fit in to all this, exactly?” John asked abruptly. “I mean, I know he was with the program at the beginning, and he left for-well, he said moral reasons-” because he’d figured out where that new place was right away; it hadn’t been hard to fill in the blanks on the why-I-hate-the-military story at all-“but that’s about all I know.”
“Don’t tell him I said this, but Rodney’s one of the most brilliant scientists on the planet at the moment,” Carter started.
“I think he knows that already.”
She laughed. “Point taken. What you said is true-he was an integral part of the program, at its start. But-well, the U.S. military isn’t perfect,” and, well, first, no shit, and second there was some weight behind those words. She’d seen some of that up close. “Sometimes, when coming into contact with new civilizations, there are problems. Honestly, I’m not sure I entirely disagree with Rodney’s decision to leave. That was a bad situation, and it was handled badly, and given policy, it’s possible that it could happen again.” She paused, breathed deep. “Anyway, Rodney left. He’s spent the last seven years working independently. Every so often we’ll get him in to consult on something, and he’s published a few papers that have been helpful.” She smiled. “He’s very good at working Gate-related material into what looks like normal advances in astrophysics. He also usually manages to get his hands on anything published within the Stargate community, which we haven’t tried too hard to stop, because when he chooses to be, he is helpful, and despite being an arrogant jerk most of the time,” John started at that, but she was still smiling, and, well, it was true, “several people in the SGC vouch for his basic goodwill. He doesn’t quite have security clearance, because he did leave the program, and got some of the powers that be mad at him in the process, but he’s…around.”
“Huh.” John contemplated this. “So…he’ll be going on this expedition, then?”
“The Atlantis expedition will be a civilian-run operation, so I’m certain that he’ll at least be invited, considering his level of expertise in wormhole physics and Ancient technology. Whether he accepts is his decision. The same goes for you.”
“Oh-wait, what?” That sounded like-
“You’re being considered for the mission, Major. I understand your record is being reviewed by Dr. Weir, who will be heading the expedition, and General O’Neill.”
Well, there went that opportunity.
“Major.”
He looked up.
“General O’Neill is a-well, he’s somewhat unorthodox. And Dr. Weir is a civilian.” She paused. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think there will be as many problems as you might expect. Also, you’ll have a personal meeting with each of them. Dr. Weir will probably want to give you a tour of the facility in Antarctica. And, of course, if they decide to invite you, the final decision is yours.”
God. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
“Of course.” She stood, and when he followed, handed him a blank card with a phone number written on it in pen. “If you have any other questions, please feel free to call me at this number.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“Major.” She nodded and left.
John sprawled out on the bed again.
Another planet. Another galaxy. Atlantis. Aliens. Wormholes. Rodney.
Jesus fucking Christ.
It was too much to take in all at once. He couldn’t get his head around it.
At least, he thought hysterically, his parents probably wouldn’t have to worry. Rodney was going to be thinking about other things.
Jesus. All this, because he said yes to a date with Trixie Venables.
~~~
Rodney came back after awhile. It was late-night by then, but John wasn’t asleep and he hadn’t bothered to turn out the lights. He watched as Rodney fidgeted around the room for a minute, then turned the dressing table chair around backwards and sat in it.
“So,” said Rodney.
“So?”
“So what did you think? Did Sam sell it? Are you joining the SG program? What are you going to do?”
John sighed. “Good question.”
Rodney’s mouth quirked. “Yeah, I see that.” A pause. “So, Sam said you had something to tell me?”
John blinked. “I do?”
“Yeah, something about the little-star-map thing.”
“She didn’t tell you? I saw the Gate symbols for Atlantis. They’re going to send an expedition. Or that was what Carter implied.”
Rodney had frozen at Atlantis and was just staring at him.
“Rodney?”
“They’re sending the expedition.”
“Probably, yeah.”
“The expedition to Atlantis.”
“Rodney, are you okay?”
Rodney jumped up from the chair. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it. You saw the symbols. Why didn’t you tell me, for God’s sake? Do you realize-I might not have-but this means-do they want you?”
“What?” said John, who’d been trying to follow the sentence fragments.
“On the mission,” said Rodney, impatient. “Do they want you on the mission.”
“I don’t know yet. But Carter seemed to think it was pretty likely.”
“I knew it. I knew it! They want you, and they’ll ask me, and oh my God” and Rodney spun to a stop right in front of him and there were big hands on his face and Rodney was kissing him, hard.
That lasted for about half a second, until Rodney stumbled back, looking absolutely horrified. “I-I’m sorry. John. I-I-the body does strange things under stress, do you know how much adrenaline is coursing through my system right now-”
This wasn’t allowed. He couldn’t-dammit. “Rodney. Rodney. Shut up.” Because he couldn’t think with the light, panicky ramble going on all around him, couldn’t look at Rodney’s nervous, twitchy expression, because-
Sex. Sex with Rodney. Jesus, he was almost hard already.
Screw it. Getting invited to go to another galaxy had to be some kind of special occasion, and he deserved something for being held captive for a week, and Rodney had shut up and was staring at him, wide-eyed.
He stared back for a second-are you really going to do this-and yes he was, dammit. “Do that again,” and it came out low and sexy, and he got to watch Rodney’s pupils dilate.
“I-okay-” and then Rodney was kissing him again, and thank God, he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
Rodney kissed hard and fast, like he was starving for it, and John opened his mouth and took it, because, God. And before he really knew what was going on, he’d been pushed back against the pillows, Rodney breaking off from his mouth to lick along his collarbone, whispering, “God, I wanted you the first day I saw you, do you have any idea, can’t believe I gave you these clothes-” and John arched his back and gasped for air.
Soon they were back to making out, John’s legs falling apart to let Rodney in between them, which felt amazing. Rodney was really solid, heavy over him, so much mass moving against his body. John licked his way down Rodney’s neck, stopping at the space right between neck and shoulder, even though it kind of hurt his neck to bend that way, and bit down. Rodney shuddered. God. “Clothes,” John gasped. “Clothes off, now.”
“Yes, yes, good,” said Rodney, and rolled off, and they got naked, sex-clumsy with buttons and zippers but getting there eventually, and then they were kissing again, hot and hungry and so much skin.
And he wanted-“Fuck me,” he said, low and hoarse. And seeing Rodney’s eyes glaze over might have been almost enough of a reward, but then Rodney was reaching for the spindly bedside table. John had found the condoms and lube there the first day, when he was searching the room, and had figured that if you had a room like this, you kept it stocked, and forgotten about it until just now, and Rodney was slicking his fingers-
Rodney really had very big hands, John thought abstractedly a second later, which he’d known, but hadn’t really had driven home before. Rodney added a second finger, and John started to feel the burn, just a little. It hadn’t been too long since he’d last done this-remembering his last trip out, the guy who’d fucked him into the mattress, still feeling it on base the next day, which was almost the best part-and Rodney’s fingers were more than long enough to find his prostate oh Jesus God. He was making noise, seeing bright sparks in the air every time Rodney hit the spot, and he was going to come just like this if Rodney didn’t get on with it.
But then the fingers were gone, and Rodney was tearing open a condom package with shaking, slippery hands, and John closed his eyes and waited. And-yes, there it was, Rodney’s dick pressing into him, burning.
Rodney paused once, just all the way in, and breathed for a second, until John squirmed a little and said, “Hurry up already, fuck me,” and Rodney made a sharp noise in the back of his throat and pulled out and started thrusting.
God. God. He always forgot just how good this was. Rodney bit his collarbone on the downstroke, and John groaned.
“God,” said Rodney, “oh God, you’re so-you’re-” and thrust once, hard, and that was it, he was coming.
After that was a boneless minute or so where every thrust just tossed him higher, till he thought he’d be speaking in tongues by the time Rodney came. When Rodney froze over him, mouth open, and let out his breath in a long sigh, he was almost fainting.
After a long, sweaty, sticky moment, Rodney pulled out and disposed of the condom, came back with a wet washcloth and cleaned them off, and then flopped down next to John. “God. That was fabulous. That was maybe the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Mmm,” said John, thinking, of course he’s wired after sex. Of course.
But Rodney seemed content to just lie there, thrumming, and eventually rubbing circles into the palm of John’s hand, while John slowly drifted off to sleep.
~~~
When he woke up, it was bright outside and Rodney was sitting bolt upright, looking around frantically.
John stretched, which felt really good. Just a little sore in all the right places, yeah. “What is it, Rodney?”
“What time is it?”
“Dunno.” He yawned. “No clock in here.”
“There’s no clock in here? Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
“Well, I thought about it a couple times.”
“I can imagine. God. I really didn’t put a clock in here? Why would I do that?” Rodney was up and pulling his clothes on. “Well, I know approximately what time it is, which is late, so I’ll be going now, see you later, last night was really great. Oh, except-” and Rodney paused with only his pants and socks on and leaned in to kiss him, closemouthed but long. John closed his eyes and enjoyed it.
“I-I want to tell you you’re amazing, but I think I’d just sound like every cheesy movie ever, so-something else that means the same thing but is witty and original, okay?”
“Okay,” said John. He watched Rodney finish getting dressed and leave, and sank back down into the pillows for more sleep.
~~~
Breakfast woke him up again, and amid waffles and out-of-season fruit-although come to think of it, he had no idea where he was, it could be in season here-he started wondering what was going to happen next. It was the morning of Day Seven of Rodney’s hospitality. He assumed that Colonel Carter or General O’Neill or someone had contacted Colonel Harrisburg, and he was being transferred to the SGC at least temporarily, but he didn’t have any orders to that effect in his hands yet. He also assumed that that would happen today, since his leave was officially over tomorrow morning, but really, whatever. Assuming the transfer did happen, the SGC knew where to find him.
After breakfast, though, In Conclusion: Waiter told him to follow him, so John walked behind him as he wheeled the little breakfast cart thing through the halls, paused briefly while he dropped the thing off in the kitchen, and ended up in a sitting room that he remembered vaguely from his self-guided tour the day before. There was a slender, dark-haired woman waiting, and she stood up when John came in.
“Major Sheppard,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Elizabeth Weir. It’s nice to meet you.”
~~~
“You’ve been officially transferred to the SGC, and General O’Neill has agreed to allow you on the mission. I’m the last link in the chain before your decision, and I have to say, I like what I’ve read, and I like what I see. And what I’ve heard that you can do with Ancient technology is amazing.” Weir was perched on the edge of a couch, sipping a cup of tea. John hadn’t decided if he liked her yet or not.
“Thank you,” he said after a second.
She nodded. “Let me see if I can fill you in a little bit as to what the mission would actually entail. You’d be serving under Colonel Marshall Sumner, who is an excellent officer, alongside some of the best men and women in the service. It’s a small mission, seventy or so people, and civilian-run. There’ll be a lot of scientists-physicists, chemists, biologists-under your protection.”
“And where we’re going?”
Weir sat back. “Atlantis. Well-no one really knows. We’re talking about huge amounts of time here, Major. Anything could have happened to the city. It could be totally gone-or it could be exactly as it was millennia ago. One thing I’m absolutely certain of, though,” leaning forward again, “is that the Ancients must have left their mark on that galaxy, just as they left their mark on ours. We’ll find something, Major. I know it.”
Huh. Obviously a dedicated person, sure. He wondered how many other people knew that.
“There is something else,” she continued, looking less starry-eyed. “Rodney and the people at the SGC have been looking this over” and when had Rodney done that? this morning? He worked fast, “and, given the huge amounts of previous research done by Rodney especially,” okay, not this morning, good, “there’s a good chance that this may be a one-way trip. We have no way of knowing if we’ll find a power source at the other end strong enough to send us back home.”
There was always a catch.
Weir spent a few more minutes talking about the wonders of Atlantis and all the great people he’d be working with, then stood up. He stood with her, and as she shook his hand, she said, “Major Sheppard, I hope you’ll choose to come with us. But whether you do or you don’t, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving us this opportunity.”
Which left him with nothing to say, really, but she gave him a firm nod and walked out right away, so he didn’t have to.
Come to Atlantis. Where the technology will love you, unless there isn’t any anymore. Where wonders will be discovered, unless they’re all gone. Where you’ll get amazing stories to tell all your friends, unless it turns out you can never come home. Where you and Dr. Rodney McKay can have as much sex as you want, unless you run into something that kills you all.
Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis.
John decided what he really needed was perspective.
~~~
He was officially transferred to the SGC, who approved another week’s leave-he’d built up a lot, lately, and if he was going to another galaxy, he might as well use it all-which he spent appreciating Earth. Hamburgers, bad science fiction movies, road trips, sushi, bars. He thought about going to see the pyramids, and then he remembered a couple things that someone had told him about the Goa’uld and didn’t.
He did visit his parents, which could have been really unpleasant, but he came in on the attack, stationing himself attention-straight in the living room, and said “I solved your problem for you.”
His dad had always been semi-awed by John as Competent Military Guy, which meant that he spent more time at attention at his parents’ house than he did when on base, most visits. He’d waited while his dad stared, mouth working silently, until he’d absorbed the information and could say, kind of choking, “Thanks, Johnny. That means a lot.”
Which felt pretty good, even though he then had to calm his mother down about the kidnapping thing. They made him stay for dinner, which reminded him again that while he loved his parents just fine, prolonged exposure drove him insane.
After he left, he went to an amusement park, and thought about all the stuff he might never see again. And then he went back to his hotel and tried to sleep, and the next morning he got up and flew to New York, where he went up in the Empire State Building and ate a turkey sandwich sitting in Central Park.
Pros, cons. Pros, cons.
Rodney had said goodbye without looking him in the eye, and had then launched into a crazy monologue about considering things carefully and he knew it was a big step, but really, John, understand the opportunity here-and John had cut him off with a kiss, and after that Rodney had only said, very quietly, “Please come.” And then he’d turned around and left John standing in the hallway with nothing to say.
Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis. Come to Atlantis.
Even the machines wanted him to come. He’d picked up a few more for Rodney and for the SGC, and they-hummed at him, and he could almost hear them whispering in his ear, Come to Atlantis. You belong in Atlantis.
Or maybe he was just going nuts.
But he thought about it. He thought about it and thought about it and thought about it, until he was driving himself up the wall, Atlantis or not? Atlantis or not? Atlantis or not? He even flipped a coin once, which didn’t help, because it came up pro, which just felt like the universe was conspiring against him.
He thought about Rodney a lot. He kept starting awake at three in the morning and expecting to see the cell phone bobbing in through the door.
On the seventh day, he went to Canada (where, it turned out, Rodney’s mansion was) and was let in through the security gate and the other security gate and searched for weapons and oranges and finally let through the door and showed to the sitting room in which he’d met Dr. Weir.
Rodney showed up in less than five minutes, looking anxious and twitchy. “John. Hello. Welcome back. I-have you decided?”
John breathed in. Come to Atlantis. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”
end