Maintaining Control by liketheriver (role reversal challenge)
Title: Maintaining Control
Author: liketheriver
Category: John/Rodney
Word Count: ~ 4,300
Rating: T
Characters: John, Rodney, and a smidge of the others.
Spoilers: Anything through The Seed
A/N: Thanks as always to Koschka for the beta.
Summary: Just because you're in command doesn't mean you can control everything that happens.
Maintaining Control
by liketheriver
John ducked behind the remains of the wall of the dilapidated building to avoid the stunner blast before straightening and returning fire. To his right, McKay and Teyla were also firing their P90s at the advancing Wraith. A blast impacting the stone wall above Rodney’s head had the scientist dropping for cover and Teyla turning and firing behind them.
“Sheppard, they’re closing in! They’ll have us completely surrounded soon!” Rodney was yelling frantically to be heard over the gunfire… at least, that was part of the reason.
John didn’t need that little news bulletin, nor the readings of the life signs detector McKay held to tell him how totally screwed they were if the others didn’t set those charges soon. “Gee, Rodney, ya’ think?”
Having expended the magazine in his P90, Sheppard popped it out, only to remember that it was his second clip he’d run through since they’d first encountered resistance in the Wraith laboratory. “Shit, I’m out.” Sliding down the wall next to Rodney, he put out an impatient hand. “Give me your spare clip.”
McKay handed it over without argument, flinching away from the staccato spurt of Teyla’s weapon firing beside him. “I don’t have a lot left myself.”
“You won’t need it,” John promised, eyes skimming over the small trickle of blood running down Rodney’s cheek. It was a scratch from a piece of rock shrapnel from the wall, no doubt. Minor, not serious, not like the shit that was going down around them. “As soon as the teams finish planting the C4, we’re out of here.”
“Yeah? Well, when the hell will that be?”
Sheppard didn’t have a chance to answer, although he was wondering the same damn thing, because at that moment Teyla yelled, “John!” in warning. The Athosian was already turning to vault over the low wall in escape of the Wraith grenade that was blinking a few feet away.
“Move!” he ordered, grabbing a fistful of Rodney’s vest and practically pulling the man to his feet to follow quickly on Teyla’s heels.
The blast a few second later had the three of them face down in the grass, small stones from the remains of the wall raining down on them, and John’s ears ringing as he struggled to his knees to look to his other teammates. He could see, more than hear Rodney calling Teyla’s name, helping her to her feet as she swiped dazedly at the blood running from her nose.
Staggering to his own feet, Sheppard waved the two on before Rodney could stop and try to help him, too. “Get to the trees!” His own voice echoed in the sound baffling that had suddenly filled his head. He could taste blood when he swallowed, trying to ignore the way the ground seemed to tilt as he ran after his teammates.
Rodney was firing blindly behind him with his free hand as he practically dragged Teyla into the tree line. McKay’s mouth screwed into a curse when he fired his last round and he literally shook the gun, as if he could jar loose one more bullet that was somehow stuck in the weapon. John managed to turn and fire even as he jogged backwards, hitting two Wraith in the chest and providing enough suppressive fire for Teyla and Rodney to find cover behind a fallen log. Sheppard squatted behind a nearby tree trunk, firing another spray of bullets.
“You were saying?” McKay’s acidic tone was able to cut through the cotton in John’s head.
Ignoring the comment, John asked instead, “How’s Teyla?”
She waited until he stopped firing once more to respond. “I am fine now. I was momentarily disoriented by the blast, but it has passed.” And she set to proving that point by sitting up and shooting at the approaching Wraith, even with a smear of red across her cheek.
“Sheppard, I’ve set my charges.” Ronon’s voice spoke in John’s earpiece. “How are you guys doing?”
Wincing as a blast hit the ground next to him, John confessed, “Oh, you know, business as usual.”
“I’m on my way,” Ronon assured him.
Rodney breathed a sigh of relief at the news, but John stopped Ronon before he could act on his impulse to help his team, earning Sheppard a glare from McKay.
“ Negative. Hold your position until the building’s down. That’s your primary objective. Got it?” John ignored Rodney’s glower. He was in charge here and sometimes you had to make decision that not everyone liked but that needed to be made. If he could say nothing else about Rodney, the scientist may not have always agreed with John’s calls in the field, but he rarely challenged him once John had made it… at least not in public.
“Then when the hell can I blow it?” Ronon demanded impatiently.
Sheppard sat up to shoot some more. “How about we let Lorne and the others set their charges and have a chance to hightail it out of there first?”
Lorne reported in then. “We’re placing our last one now and should be clear in a minute, but I’ve lost contact with Dixon and Romero. They were setting the last charges in the control room.”
Clicking his own radio, John called, “Dixon, this is Sheppard, report.” Waiting a second and receiving no reply, he tried again. “Romero, Dixon, come in.” Turning to McKay, he asked, “Would there be anything in that part of the facility that would interfere with their radio transmission?”
“Maybe,” Rodney told him, pulling his handgun and shooting now that his P90 was empty.
“Maybe isn’t good enough, McKay,” Sheppard snapped back before firing.
“Look, I’m a genius not a psychic. We’ve seen shielding in other Wraith facilities but it could just as easily be that they’ve been captured or killed. I just don’t know.”
Son of a bitch. Here it was; the real rub of being in command. It was all about maintaining control of the situation. If you lost control and couldn’t regain it, then you’re ass and the asses of those counting on you were toast. John had two missing men who could be alive or dead. He had four others ready to blow a facility swarming with Wraith and two more plus himself pinned down and cut off from their Jumper with no help coming until the others completed their mission and destroyed the lab.
“Dixon, Romero, this is Sheppard! Respond!” Nothing. Turning back to McKay, he asked, “If they didn’t set their charges will it be enough to bring it down?”
Rodney shook his head. “Not the whole building but an awful big chunk. It will definitely do more damage than just talking about it is,” McKay pointed out needlessly.
“Colonel,” Lorne reported, “we’re clear of the building.”
The rapid firing of Teyla’s P90 ended abruptly and Sheppard realized she was out of ammo, too. Letting the large gun drop to dangle from her vest, she pulled her nine millimeter.
“John?” Teyla’s voice held a little more sympathy than Rodney’s but all the same desperation.
Why the fuck didn’t they respond? How many times had his team been in a situation where they were cut off or trapped or out of communications range and managed to pull off a miracle? Were Dixon and Romero doing the same and by blowing the building would Sheppard be condemning them to death?
Another grenade blew behind their position, dirt and debris pouring down on all of them and John looked frantically to where his two teammates were hunkering low behind the log to see if they were okay.
“Sheppard!” McKay’s voice was going rough around the edges as he rose to his knees to look at where his team leader squatted behind the tree and John waved to indicate he was unharmed.
“McKay, keep your goddamn head down!” He also knew they really didn’t have a choice at this point if wanted to regain any control whatsoever over this piece of shit mission. Keying his radio, he ordered, “Blow it, now! And get a Jumper over to our location pronto.”
The blast in the distance was blocked by the trees, but it had the ground rumbling beneath their feet and the Wraith halting in their advance to look back toward their collapsing facility. John took advantage of the delay to dart over to join his teammates and fire at the Wraith as soon as they turned their attention back to their human quarry.
Sheppard did his best to keep his eyes forward, ignoring the looks both McKay and Teyla were shooting his direction. When Rodney started to open his mouth to say something, John cut him off. “We’re not out of this yet,” he reminded them, stopping shooting only long enough to hand an extra clip of nine millimeter ammo over to Rodney when he ran out.
* * * * *
“So, let me make sure I understand you, Colonel. When Captain Dixon and Sergeant Romero didn’t respond, you ordered the facility destroyed?”
Sheppard tried his best to control his defensive tone, but the way Woolsey sat there, hands neatly folded over a folder of paper, John wasn’t sure he possessed the requisite amount of control necessary to do it. “We were under heavy fire, running out of ammunition, with no means of escape…”
Woolsey held up his hand. “This is not an inquisition, Colonel. I just need all the facts so that I can make my report back to the SGC. Reporting two men as MIA is not an easy thing to do.”
John was able to control his humorless laugh and kept himself from asking how easy Woolsey thought it was to order the building destroyed where the two men were last seen. “If you let us go back to recover the bodies, they won’t be MIA anymore.”
“I understand that you and Major Lorne are anxious to attempt a recovery of your missing men, but you must understand that I cannot allow that. Not after the exposure to the Wraith virus that infected everyone who was in Michael’s collapsed facility.”
Sheppard did understand. It was one of the reasons he had refused to let Lorne carry out the search when the major had first requested it back on the planet. That and the fact that the area was still crawling with Wraith. Nodding wordlessly, Sheppard sat back in his seat and tried to maintain a calm demeanor.
“The Daedalus is scheduled to arrive in two days time,” Woolsey pointed out, “and I have already sent word to Colonel Caldwell redirecting him to the planet to recover the bodies… following proper containment protocol… using their subcutaneous transmitters.”
Having closed discussion on the recovery effort, Woolsey moved on to other matters. “Now then, aside from the obvious tragedy associated with the loss of two expedition members, how successful was the mission?”
“The laboratory facility was completely destroyed,” John told him quietly.
Woolsey narrowed his eyes at the reserved tone before he keyed in on what Sheppard had just told him. “Completely destroyed?”
“Yeah, leveled to the ground.”
“But it was my understanding from what Dr. McKay told us in the pre-mission briefing that if all the charges weren’t set properly…”
John’s back went rigid as he cut off the expedition leader. “I know what McKay said, Mr. Woolsey, and I also know what that means.”
Dixon and Romero had set their charges; at least one of them had been alive long enough to do that. And that meant at least one of them could have been alive when the building came crumbling down on top of them. John had experienced that situation first hand. He’d also been lucky, damned lucky, to have survived. Unfortunately, neither of the two men had been so fortunate; the fly over with the Jumper confirmed there were no human life signs anywhere in the debris. As much as Sheppard wanted to recover the bodies of the missing men, he almost dreaded seeing what they would show. What the hell did it say about him that he was damn well hoping they had been fed upon by the Wraiths? Because as horrific as that was to suffer, at least he would know he hadn’t been the one to cause their deaths by ordering the building blown.
Woolsey studied Sheppard for a moment before closing the folder before him. “Colonel Sheppard, I haven’t had a great deal of experience making life or death decisions. In fact, I believe you’ve been present for all of them. But even with my limited familiarity, I know how difficult it can be to make those sorts of choices even when you have all the pertinent facts in front of you. Having to do it with limited information while under fire by a hostile enemy force… well, let’s just say I don’t envy your job.”
John gave one terse nod before asking, “So, are we done here?”
Woolsey stood and Sheppard took that as his cue to do the same. “I think I have all the information I need for the time being, but I’ll expect your full report submitted first thing in the morning. If you’ll excuse me, I need to contact the SGC. Believe me, having to report the loss of two members of the expedition, this is one call I don’t want to make.”
John turned on his heels, speaking under his breath as he headed quickly out the door, “It sure the fuck wasn’t a call I wanted to make either.”
* * * *
John walked into his room to find McKay sitting on his bed, reading one of his comic books, and pretty much making himself completely at home. Hell, seeing as Rodney kept a toothbrush and spare underwear here, he practically was at home.
Rodney sat up quickly, dropping the comic as soon as the door slid open. “Hey, so how did it go?”
John ignored the question, instead asking, “What are you doing here? I thought I was going to meet you in the cafeteria.”
“And, yet, here you are in your room,” Rodney countered. “Besides, I’m not really all that hungry.”
Raising his eyebrows in disbelief, Sheppard challenged, “You’re not hungry?”
Rodney waved a hand as he scooted down to the foot of the bed, “Fine, I grabbed a sandwich on my way over here while you were still in Woolsey’s office. But I knew you wouldn’t be hungry.”
“You think you know me so well that you can predict my eating habits now?”
Of course, John left out the fact that he had been planning on begging off dinner so he could finish that damn mission report. Besides, he really didn’t feel like company right now, not even Rodney’s… especially not Rodney’s seeing as every time he looked at McKay or Teyla or even Ronon and Lorne, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he had chosen them over Dixon and Romero. What was worse, he also knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it came down to saving the lives of his team. If it had been just him, things might have turned out different today. But they had been just minutes from being overrun and that would have meant Teyla’s and Rodney’s lives would have been forfeit, as well, and that was just not going to happen. Teyla had Torrin and Kanaan waiting on Atlantis for her, and there was no way John was going to be responsible for her not coming home to them. And Rodney? Fuck, the fact that Rodney knew exactly where John was going to be and what he planned to do, and John found it as equally comforting as it was annoying, said more than Sheppard could ever put into words about the man.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know you that well. And I know you plan to hide out in here all night playing over in your head what happened today a million different ways to see if you can figure out how you could have gotten every one of us off that planet.”
“No, I plan to finish my report and clean my sidearm and…”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Rodney told him simply.
“I had command of the mission. I was responsible for everything that happened out there today and everyone under my command.”
“Just because you’re in command doesn’t mean you can control everything that happens.”
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, John shook his head. “Look, I really need to finish that report. Woolsey’s expecting it first thing, so maybe you should just…” By the way Rodney was unlacing his boots and toeing them off, it was obvious he wasn’t listening to John. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing,” McKay told him needlessly, standing and unfastening his pants. “And you need to be doing the same.”
“Rodney, now just really isn’t a good time to…”
McKay tossed aside his shirt and frowned irritably. “You know what, Sheppard? You’ve been telling people what to do all day today. It’s time for you to just shut up and do what you’re told for once. I’m in command now and I say take off your damn clothes.” Impatient fingers snapped in John’s direction. “So, strip already.”
John started to protest, but, honestly, McKay ordering him to have sex was really kind of hot. And when Rodney stepped out of his boxers, already hard and ready, John’s own body decided his mouth should just shut the hell up and stop arguing.
It took Rodney snapping at him again for John to realize he was ogling the man standing nude in front of him. “I said clothes off. Now.”
Trying to control the twitch of his lips at the order, Sheppard finally did as he was told, ending by kicking his own boxers to lie in a heap with Rodney’s on the floor beside the bed. He took a step forward, reaching out a hand to trace along McKay’s shoulder. There was a bruise there, probably from a piece of rock hitting the scientist after one of the grenades detonated. But Rodney clamped a hand around John’s wrist and pulled it away with a look of determination on his face.
Sheppard’s own face was showing his confusion at Rodney not letting John touch him, but it quickly changed when McKay slid his palms against John’s, tightly interlocking the fingers on both of their hands. Rodney’s hands were so different from John’s, thick and broad and yet capable of unexpected delicacy, whether working on Ancient technology or tracing over John’s body, they always managed to bring out the most incredible results. John had always found the notion of holding hands a bit cliché; a hearts and flowers expression of romance for all the world to see. But with Rodney, it was more. He could lay in bed with McKay, palms pressed together, comparing and contrasting the scientist’s wide spread of fingers to his own long slender one, and never seem to tire of it. Maybe it was that dichotomy of McKay’s hands, maybe it was because they couldn’t do it in public, or maybe it was the way that, despite the differences in shape and form between their hands, they just seemed to fit together perfectly. Whatever the reason, it held an intimacy that John had never experienced before in his life before McKay.
Sheppard held tight to the hand twisted with his, fighting to maintain control over his desire to simply drop his head on Rodney’s shoulder and admit that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had fucked up but good today. But McKay had other ideas, and in his typical fashion, they were pretty ingenious. Rodney wrapped his arms around John and dropped his mouth to kiss and suck along John’s neck. The result was that Sheppard’s hands were, in effect, locked in the small of his back, as if he were handcuffed. Only, there were no metal restraints eating into his wrists, just Rodney’s strong grip and the feel of warm skin pressed against his to hold him resolutely in place.
John closed his eyes, biting his lower lip when Rodney moved to his earlobe. From this angle, he could do little more than twist his head and nuzzle soft brown hair and when he tried to pull free to run his hands across the spread of Rodney’s back, McKay just strengthened his grip, the act pulling John in tight against him.
“Rodney…” he exhaled a little breathlessly and was cut off from saying anything else by McKay moving his mouth to John’s and walking him backwards toward the bed.
It was only a couple of steps before the back of John’s knees hit the foot of the bed and Rodney did pull their hands out from behind Sheppard as they tumbled onto the mattress. But he didn’t release his grip, simply moved them so that they were pinned on the pillow above John’s head. Sheppard was vaguely aware of the feel of the wall scraping against his knuckles, but he was too caught up in the feel of Rodney’s mouth on his, the slide of tongue, the nip of teeth, the amazing crush of McKay’s body pressing into his, to really care.
Sheppard had given up on attempting to free his arms. Hell, he had decided he had no desire whatsoever to even try to escape the imprisonment Rodney had created with their bodies. But he could still move his legs and he wrapped them around Rodney, running a foot down the back of McKay’s thigh and causing Rodney to moan against his mouth. Then Rodney’s lips were gone from his, moving downward, and John’s head tilted back when Rodney’s tongue darted and flicked along the hollow at the base of his throat.
McKay continued to move lower, stretching his body on top of Sheppard’s as he maintained his hold on John’s hands above his head for as long as he could. Eventually, he had to bring them down to John’s sides so he could nip along ribs and abs and nuzzle into the dip of Sheppard’s pelvis before brushing his lips along the inside of John’s thigh.
“Jesus… McKay.” It was taking everything he had for John to remain still, although he couldn’t stop the way his body twitched involuntarily when Rodney’s nose brushed across him as the man moved to kiss the junction of his hip and leg on the other side.
“You’re still trying to maintain control,” McKay told him, and the sensation of warm breath on delicate skin had John’s muscles tensing to contain his shivering.
“I’m not.” Although the way he clenched his jaw to keep from lifting his hips from the bed didn’t lend much credence to his declaration.
“Yeah, that’s real convincing,” Rodney scoffed as he kissed and licked everywhere except where John really, really wanted him to.
“Oh, fuck, Rodney… for the love of…”
Rodney snorted at the way John ground out the words. “Seriously, Sheppard, even Woolsey would be blathering the command codes to the city to me if I was doing this to him.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The spike of jealousy at the thought had John glaring down the length of his body at McKay.
Blue eyes peeked up at him mischievously, and maybe there was even a bit of pleasure to hear the possessiveness in John’s voice. “Of course not, but that doesn’t change the fact that even the most uptight, stick-up-his-ass, pencil-pusher I’ve ever met would be little more than a quivering mass of sexual goo by now if he were here instead of you.”
Rodney had barely lifted his mouth from Sheppard’s body the entire time he was talking, and the words had simply reverberated across John’s skin in warm waves that left him gasping.
“That visual… sure… the fuck… isn’t helping… Christ…would you just…” John’s next word turned into an incoherent gurgle when Rodney nestled his nose and mouth against Sheppard's balls. And, yeah, that was helping, that was helping a lot. In fact, John was pretty sure he may have blurted out his command codes as a result.
“Better,” McKay conceded at the reaction he garnered before doing it again.
This time Sheppard couldn’t stop the way he arched away from the bed, his eyes rolling back in his head, and he was rewarded by Rodney doing it yet again, only with the addition of his tongue. A shudder ran through John’s body and he didn’t even try to stop it, just bucked off the mattress once again, all of his concentration focused on what Rodney was doing to him and loving every damn second of it. McKay was in charge at last, completely in command of the entire situation, and John couldn’t have been any fucking happier with that arrangement, especially when Rodney used their joined hands to lift and tilt John’s hips and finally… finally… took John in his mouth.
At that point the universe narrowed to Rodney’s mouth, warm and wet and, Jesus, all around him, and there… just right there. And John was babbling nonsense; he knew that it wouldn’t mean a damn thing if anyone else was hearing it, but Rodney would know, he’d understand, he’d make it better… was making it better. So much fucking better. Because McKay understood, knew just what John needed, and he was in charge, in total and complete control of it all. And his mouth… sweet Jesus, his mouth… and their hands and the sound of Rodney’s name as he was calling it. The ringing in John’s ears was back but it had nothing to do with a Wraith grenade, it had to do with the fact that Rodney was in control and John was totally losing it.
And this was one time he didn’t mind losing control of a situation one damn bit.
The End
Author: liketheriver
Category: John/Rodney
Word Count: ~ 4,300
Rating: T
Characters: John, Rodney, and a smidge of the others.
Spoilers: Anything through The Seed
A/N: Thanks as always to Koschka for the beta.
Summary: Just because you're in command doesn't mean you can control everything that happens.
Maintaining Control
by liketheriver
John ducked behind the remains of the wall of the dilapidated building to avoid the stunner blast before straightening and returning fire. To his right, McKay and Teyla were also firing their P90s at the advancing Wraith. A blast impacting the stone wall above Rodney’s head had the scientist dropping for cover and Teyla turning and firing behind them.
“Sheppard, they’re closing in! They’ll have us completely surrounded soon!” Rodney was yelling frantically to be heard over the gunfire… at least, that was part of the reason.
John didn’t need that little news bulletin, nor the readings of the life signs detector McKay held to tell him how totally screwed they were if the others didn’t set those charges soon. “Gee, Rodney, ya’ think?”
Having expended the magazine in his P90, Sheppard popped it out, only to remember that it was his second clip he’d run through since they’d first encountered resistance in the Wraith laboratory. “Shit, I’m out.” Sliding down the wall next to Rodney, he put out an impatient hand. “Give me your spare clip.”
McKay handed it over without argument, flinching away from the staccato spurt of Teyla’s weapon firing beside him. “I don’t have a lot left myself.”
“You won’t need it,” John promised, eyes skimming over the small trickle of blood running down Rodney’s cheek. It was a scratch from a piece of rock shrapnel from the wall, no doubt. Minor, not serious, not like the shit that was going down around them. “As soon as the teams finish planting the C4, we’re out of here.”
“Yeah? Well, when the hell will that be?”
Sheppard didn’t have a chance to answer, although he was wondering the same damn thing, because at that moment Teyla yelled, “John!” in warning. The Athosian was already turning to vault over the low wall in escape of the Wraith grenade that was blinking a few feet away.
“Move!” he ordered, grabbing a fistful of Rodney’s vest and practically pulling the man to his feet to follow quickly on Teyla’s heels.
The blast a few second later had the three of them face down in the grass, small stones from the remains of the wall raining down on them, and John’s ears ringing as he struggled to his knees to look to his other teammates. He could see, more than hear Rodney calling Teyla’s name, helping her to her feet as she swiped dazedly at the blood running from her nose.
Staggering to his own feet, Sheppard waved the two on before Rodney could stop and try to help him, too. “Get to the trees!” His own voice echoed in the sound baffling that had suddenly filled his head. He could taste blood when he swallowed, trying to ignore the way the ground seemed to tilt as he ran after his teammates.
Rodney was firing blindly behind him with his free hand as he practically dragged Teyla into the tree line. McKay’s mouth screwed into a curse when he fired his last round and he literally shook the gun, as if he could jar loose one more bullet that was somehow stuck in the weapon. John managed to turn and fire even as he jogged backwards, hitting two Wraith in the chest and providing enough suppressive fire for Teyla and Rodney to find cover behind a fallen log. Sheppard squatted behind a nearby tree trunk, firing another spray of bullets.
“You were saying?” McKay’s acidic tone was able to cut through the cotton in John’s head.
Ignoring the comment, John asked instead, “How’s Teyla?”
She waited until he stopped firing once more to respond. “I am fine now. I was momentarily disoriented by the blast, but it has passed.” And she set to proving that point by sitting up and shooting at the approaching Wraith, even with a smear of red across her cheek.
“Sheppard, I’ve set my charges.” Ronon’s voice spoke in John’s earpiece. “How are you guys doing?”
Wincing as a blast hit the ground next to him, John confessed, “Oh, you know, business as usual.”
“I’m on my way,” Ronon assured him.
Rodney breathed a sigh of relief at the news, but John stopped Ronon before he could act on his impulse to help his team, earning Sheppard a glare from McKay.
“ Negative. Hold your position until the building’s down. That’s your primary objective. Got it?” John ignored Rodney’s glower. He was in charge here and sometimes you had to make decision that not everyone liked but that needed to be made. If he could say nothing else about Rodney, the scientist may not have always agreed with John’s calls in the field, but he rarely challenged him once John had made it… at least not in public.
“Then when the hell can I blow it?” Ronon demanded impatiently.
Sheppard sat up to shoot some more. “How about we let Lorne and the others set their charges and have a chance to hightail it out of there first?”
Lorne reported in then. “We’re placing our last one now and should be clear in a minute, but I’ve lost contact with Dixon and Romero. They were setting the last charges in the control room.”
Clicking his own radio, John called, “Dixon, this is Sheppard, report.” Waiting a second and receiving no reply, he tried again. “Romero, Dixon, come in.” Turning to McKay, he asked, “Would there be anything in that part of the facility that would interfere with their radio transmission?”
“Maybe,” Rodney told him, pulling his handgun and shooting now that his P90 was empty.
“Maybe isn’t good enough, McKay,” Sheppard snapped back before firing.
“Look, I’m a genius not a psychic. We’ve seen shielding in other Wraith facilities but it could just as easily be that they’ve been captured or killed. I just don’t know.”
Son of a bitch. Here it was; the real rub of being in command. It was all about maintaining control of the situation. If you lost control and couldn’t regain it, then you’re ass and the asses of those counting on you were toast. John had two missing men who could be alive or dead. He had four others ready to blow a facility swarming with Wraith and two more plus himself pinned down and cut off from their Jumper with no help coming until the others completed their mission and destroyed the lab.
“Dixon, Romero, this is Sheppard! Respond!” Nothing. Turning back to McKay, he asked, “If they didn’t set their charges will it be enough to bring it down?”
Rodney shook his head. “Not the whole building but an awful big chunk. It will definitely do more damage than just talking about it is,” McKay pointed out needlessly.
“Colonel,” Lorne reported, “we’re clear of the building.”
The rapid firing of Teyla’s P90 ended abruptly and Sheppard realized she was out of ammo, too. Letting the large gun drop to dangle from her vest, she pulled her nine millimeter.
“John?” Teyla’s voice held a little more sympathy than Rodney’s but all the same desperation.
Why the fuck didn’t they respond? How many times had his team been in a situation where they were cut off or trapped or out of communications range and managed to pull off a miracle? Were Dixon and Romero doing the same and by blowing the building would Sheppard be condemning them to death?
Another grenade blew behind their position, dirt and debris pouring down on all of them and John looked frantically to where his two teammates were hunkering low behind the log to see if they were okay.
“Sheppard!” McKay’s voice was going rough around the edges as he rose to his knees to look at where his team leader squatted behind the tree and John waved to indicate he was unharmed.
“McKay, keep your goddamn head down!” He also knew they really didn’t have a choice at this point if wanted to regain any control whatsoever over this piece of shit mission. Keying his radio, he ordered, “Blow it, now! And get a Jumper over to our location pronto.”
The blast in the distance was blocked by the trees, but it had the ground rumbling beneath their feet and the Wraith halting in their advance to look back toward their collapsing facility. John took advantage of the delay to dart over to join his teammates and fire at the Wraith as soon as they turned their attention back to their human quarry.
Sheppard did his best to keep his eyes forward, ignoring the looks both McKay and Teyla were shooting his direction. When Rodney started to open his mouth to say something, John cut him off. “We’re not out of this yet,” he reminded them, stopping shooting only long enough to hand an extra clip of nine millimeter ammo over to Rodney when he ran out.
* * * * *
“So, let me make sure I understand you, Colonel. When Captain Dixon and Sergeant Romero didn’t respond, you ordered the facility destroyed?”
Sheppard tried his best to control his defensive tone, but the way Woolsey sat there, hands neatly folded over a folder of paper, John wasn’t sure he possessed the requisite amount of control necessary to do it. “We were under heavy fire, running out of ammunition, with no means of escape…”
Woolsey held up his hand. “This is not an inquisition, Colonel. I just need all the facts so that I can make my report back to the SGC. Reporting two men as MIA is not an easy thing to do.”
John was able to control his humorless laugh and kept himself from asking how easy Woolsey thought it was to order the building destroyed where the two men were last seen. “If you let us go back to recover the bodies, they won’t be MIA anymore.”
“I understand that you and Major Lorne are anxious to attempt a recovery of your missing men, but you must understand that I cannot allow that. Not after the exposure to the Wraith virus that infected everyone who was in Michael’s collapsed facility.”
Sheppard did understand. It was one of the reasons he had refused to let Lorne carry out the search when the major had first requested it back on the planet. That and the fact that the area was still crawling with Wraith. Nodding wordlessly, Sheppard sat back in his seat and tried to maintain a calm demeanor.
“The Daedalus is scheduled to arrive in two days time,” Woolsey pointed out, “and I have already sent word to Colonel Caldwell redirecting him to the planet to recover the bodies… following proper containment protocol… using their subcutaneous transmitters.”
Having closed discussion on the recovery effort, Woolsey moved on to other matters. “Now then, aside from the obvious tragedy associated with the loss of two expedition members, how successful was the mission?”
“The laboratory facility was completely destroyed,” John told him quietly.
Woolsey narrowed his eyes at the reserved tone before he keyed in on what Sheppard had just told him. “Completely destroyed?”
“Yeah, leveled to the ground.”
“But it was my understanding from what Dr. McKay told us in the pre-mission briefing that if all the charges weren’t set properly…”
John’s back went rigid as he cut off the expedition leader. “I know what McKay said, Mr. Woolsey, and I also know what that means.”
Dixon and Romero had set their charges; at least one of them had been alive long enough to do that. And that meant at least one of them could have been alive when the building came crumbling down on top of them. John had experienced that situation first hand. He’d also been lucky, damned lucky, to have survived. Unfortunately, neither of the two men had been so fortunate; the fly over with the Jumper confirmed there were no human life signs anywhere in the debris. As much as Sheppard wanted to recover the bodies of the missing men, he almost dreaded seeing what they would show. What the hell did it say about him that he was damn well hoping they had been fed upon by the Wraiths? Because as horrific as that was to suffer, at least he would know he hadn’t been the one to cause their deaths by ordering the building blown.
Woolsey studied Sheppard for a moment before closing the folder before him. “Colonel Sheppard, I haven’t had a great deal of experience making life or death decisions. In fact, I believe you’ve been present for all of them. But even with my limited familiarity, I know how difficult it can be to make those sorts of choices even when you have all the pertinent facts in front of you. Having to do it with limited information while under fire by a hostile enemy force… well, let’s just say I don’t envy your job.”
John gave one terse nod before asking, “So, are we done here?”
Woolsey stood and Sheppard took that as his cue to do the same. “I think I have all the information I need for the time being, but I’ll expect your full report submitted first thing in the morning. If you’ll excuse me, I need to contact the SGC. Believe me, having to report the loss of two members of the expedition, this is one call I don’t want to make.”
John turned on his heels, speaking under his breath as he headed quickly out the door, “It sure the fuck wasn’t a call I wanted to make either.”
* * * *
John walked into his room to find McKay sitting on his bed, reading one of his comic books, and pretty much making himself completely at home. Hell, seeing as Rodney kept a toothbrush and spare underwear here, he practically was at home.
Rodney sat up quickly, dropping the comic as soon as the door slid open. “Hey, so how did it go?”
John ignored the question, instead asking, “What are you doing here? I thought I was going to meet you in the cafeteria.”
“And, yet, here you are in your room,” Rodney countered. “Besides, I’m not really all that hungry.”
Raising his eyebrows in disbelief, Sheppard challenged, “You’re not hungry?”
Rodney waved a hand as he scooted down to the foot of the bed, “Fine, I grabbed a sandwich on my way over here while you were still in Woolsey’s office. But I knew you wouldn’t be hungry.”
“You think you know me so well that you can predict my eating habits now?”
Of course, John left out the fact that he had been planning on begging off dinner so he could finish that damn mission report. Besides, he really didn’t feel like company right now, not even Rodney’s… especially not Rodney’s seeing as every time he looked at McKay or Teyla or even Ronon and Lorne, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that he had chosen them over Dixon and Romero. What was worse, he also knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it came down to saving the lives of his team. If it had been just him, things might have turned out different today. But they had been just minutes from being overrun and that would have meant Teyla’s and Rodney’s lives would have been forfeit, as well, and that was just not going to happen. Teyla had Torrin and Kanaan waiting on Atlantis for her, and there was no way John was going to be responsible for her not coming home to them. And Rodney? Fuck, the fact that Rodney knew exactly where John was going to be and what he planned to do, and John found it as equally comforting as it was annoying, said more than Sheppard could ever put into words about the man.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know you that well. And I know you plan to hide out in here all night playing over in your head what happened today a million different ways to see if you can figure out how you could have gotten every one of us off that planet.”
“No, I plan to finish my report and clean my sidearm and…”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Rodney told him simply.
“I had command of the mission. I was responsible for everything that happened out there today and everyone under my command.”
“Just because you’re in command doesn’t mean you can control everything that happens.”
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, John shook his head. “Look, I really need to finish that report. Woolsey’s expecting it first thing, so maybe you should just…” By the way Rodney was unlacing his boots and toeing them off, it was obvious he wasn’t listening to John. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing,” McKay told him needlessly, standing and unfastening his pants. “And you need to be doing the same.”
“Rodney, now just really isn’t a good time to…”
McKay tossed aside his shirt and frowned irritably. “You know what, Sheppard? You’ve been telling people what to do all day today. It’s time for you to just shut up and do what you’re told for once. I’m in command now and I say take off your damn clothes.” Impatient fingers snapped in John’s direction. “So, strip already.”
John started to protest, but, honestly, McKay ordering him to have sex was really kind of hot. And when Rodney stepped out of his boxers, already hard and ready, John’s own body decided his mouth should just shut the hell up and stop arguing.
It took Rodney snapping at him again for John to realize he was ogling the man standing nude in front of him. “I said clothes off. Now.”
Trying to control the twitch of his lips at the order, Sheppard finally did as he was told, ending by kicking his own boxers to lie in a heap with Rodney’s on the floor beside the bed. He took a step forward, reaching out a hand to trace along McKay’s shoulder. There was a bruise there, probably from a piece of rock hitting the scientist after one of the grenades detonated. But Rodney clamped a hand around John’s wrist and pulled it away with a look of determination on his face.
Sheppard’s own face was showing his confusion at Rodney not letting John touch him, but it quickly changed when McKay slid his palms against John’s, tightly interlocking the fingers on both of their hands. Rodney’s hands were so different from John’s, thick and broad and yet capable of unexpected delicacy, whether working on Ancient technology or tracing over John’s body, they always managed to bring out the most incredible results. John had always found the notion of holding hands a bit cliché; a hearts and flowers expression of romance for all the world to see. But with Rodney, it was more. He could lay in bed with McKay, palms pressed together, comparing and contrasting the scientist’s wide spread of fingers to his own long slender one, and never seem to tire of it. Maybe it was that dichotomy of McKay’s hands, maybe it was because they couldn’t do it in public, or maybe it was the way that, despite the differences in shape and form between their hands, they just seemed to fit together perfectly. Whatever the reason, it held an intimacy that John had never experienced before in his life before McKay.
Sheppard held tight to the hand twisted with his, fighting to maintain control over his desire to simply drop his head on Rodney’s shoulder and admit that he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had fucked up but good today. But McKay had other ideas, and in his typical fashion, they were pretty ingenious. Rodney wrapped his arms around John and dropped his mouth to kiss and suck along John’s neck. The result was that Sheppard’s hands were, in effect, locked in the small of his back, as if he were handcuffed. Only, there were no metal restraints eating into his wrists, just Rodney’s strong grip and the feel of warm skin pressed against his to hold him resolutely in place.
John closed his eyes, biting his lower lip when Rodney moved to his earlobe. From this angle, he could do little more than twist his head and nuzzle soft brown hair and when he tried to pull free to run his hands across the spread of Rodney’s back, McKay just strengthened his grip, the act pulling John in tight against him.
“Rodney…” he exhaled a little breathlessly and was cut off from saying anything else by McKay moving his mouth to John’s and walking him backwards toward the bed.
It was only a couple of steps before the back of John’s knees hit the foot of the bed and Rodney did pull their hands out from behind Sheppard as they tumbled onto the mattress. But he didn’t release his grip, simply moved them so that they were pinned on the pillow above John’s head. Sheppard was vaguely aware of the feel of the wall scraping against his knuckles, but he was too caught up in the feel of Rodney’s mouth on his, the slide of tongue, the nip of teeth, the amazing crush of McKay’s body pressing into his, to really care.
Sheppard had given up on attempting to free his arms. Hell, he had decided he had no desire whatsoever to even try to escape the imprisonment Rodney had created with their bodies. But he could still move his legs and he wrapped them around Rodney, running a foot down the back of McKay’s thigh and causing Rodney to moan against his mouth. Then Rodney’s lips were gone from his, moving downward, and John’s head tilted back when Rodney’s tongue darted and flicked along the hollow at the base of his throat.
McKay continued to move lower, stretching his body on top of Sheppard’s as he maintained his hold on John’s hands above his head for as long as he could. Eventually, he had to bring them down to John’s sides so he could nip along ribs and abs and nuzzle into the dip of Sheppard’s pelvis before brushing his lips along the inside of John’s thigh.
“Jesus… McKay.” It was taking everything he had for John to remain still, although he couldn’t stop the way his body twitched involuntarily when Rodney’s nose brushed across him as the man moved to kiss the junction of his hip and leg on the other side.
“You’re still trying to maintain control,” McKay told him, and the sensation of warm breath on delicate skin had John’s muscles tensing to contain his shivering.
“I’m not.” Although the way he clenched his jaw to keep from lifting his hips from the bed didn’t lend much credence to his declaration.
“Yeah, that’s real convincing,” Rodney scoffed as he kissed and licked everywhere except where John really, really wanted him to.
“Oh, fuck, Rodney… for the love of…”
Rodney snorted at the way John ground out the words. “Seriously, Sheppard, even Woolsey would be blathering the command codes to the city to me if I was doing this to him.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The spike of jealousy at the thought had John glaring down the length of his body at McKay.
Blue eyes peeked up at him mischievously, and maybe there was even a bit of pleasure to hear the possessiveness in John’s voice. “Of course not, but that doesn’t change the fact that even the most uptight, stick-up-his-ass, pencil-pusher I’ve ever met would be little more than a quivering mass of sexual goo by now if he were here instead of you.”
Rodney had barely lifted his mouth from Sheppard’s body the entire time he was talking, and the words had simply reverberated across John’s skin in warm waves that left him gasping.
“That visual… sure… the fuck… isn’t helping… Christ…would you just…” John’s next word turned into an incoherent gurgle when Rodney nestled his nose and mouth against Sheppard's balls. And, yeah, that was helping, that was helping a lot. In fact, John was pretty sure he may have blurted out his command codes as a result.
“Better,” McKay conceded at the reaction he garnered before doing it again.
This time Sheppard couldn’t stop the way he arched away from the bed, his eyes rolling back in his head, and he was rewarded by Rodney doing it yet again, only with the addition of his tongue. A shudder ran through John’s body and he didn’t even try to stop it, just bucked off the mattress once again, all of his concentration focused on what Rodney was doing to him and loving every damn second of it. McKay was in charge at last, completely in command of the entire situation, and John couldn’t have been any fucking happier with that arrangement, especially when Rodney used their joined hands to lift and tilt John’s hips and finally… finally… took John in his mouth.
At that point the universe narrowed to Rodney’s mouth, warm and wet and, Jesus, all around him, and there… just right there. And John was babbling nonsense; he knew that it wouldn’t mean a damn thing if anyone else was hearing it, but Rodney would know, he’d understand, he’d make it better… was making it better. So much fucking better. Because McKay understood, knew just what John needed, and he was in charge, in total and complete control of it all. And his mouth… sweet Jesus, his mouth… and their hands and the sound of Rodney’s name as he was calling it. The ringing in John’s ears was back but it had nothing to do with a Wraith grenade, it had to do with the fact that Rodney was in control and John was totally losing it.
And this was one time he didn’t mind losing control of a situation one damn bit.
The End