Fic: Wipeout (McKay/Sheppard)

Dec 23, 2007 11:11

Title: Wipeout!
Author: hyperfocused
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG13
Recipient: ShepsAngel
Spoilers: Season 4, but none, really
Summary: John kidnaps evil for his own good.
Author's Note: This wanted to be angstier, but John and Rodney didn't agree.



After countless emergencies (except that Rodney does count them, making lists of the ways in which they almost die,with footnotes detailing how he, Dr. Rodney McKay, future Nobel Prize winner, saved their asses yet again), Though he chastises John for his foolhardiness, Rodney calls him "incredibly lucky, I might even say you were touched by the Gods, if I believed such primitive claptrap. You're like the energizer bunny, or a Timex watch." So much so, that it takes a day away from the city to nearly do John in. A full week goes by in which nothing life threatening occurs, and work goes on without a hitch. If Atlantis had one, the " ___ days since the last accident" sign would be doing remarkably well. All too often they'd be hard pressed to make it past day one.

John takes that as a sign that they're all due for a break. Not just a "we didn't die today, so let's go have some celebratory sex" kind of break, but one where he suggess a day off for anyone who can be spared, and makes plans to explore what looks to be a perfect beach on New Lantea. Ronon and Teyla decline his invitation, which is okay with John, because it means more time alone with Rodney, who he isn't planning on offering a choice. He loads up a puddlejumper with supplies for the day: blanket, coffee for when it starts to get nippy, nearly-turkey sandwiches and Rodney's favorite MREs, a pair of the surfboards brought over on a Daedelus run (he's going to get Rodney on one if it kills him), some SPF 4000 for Rodney, swim trunks (unless he can persuade Rodney to skinny dip), and (hey, he's ever hopeful) lube. He's also got a surprise from Earth that Rodney doesn't know about. Not a particularly practical one, but he knows they're both going to enjoy it while it lasts.

He's too smart to just ask Rodney, or even warn him of their plans. He doesn't want to give him the chance to beg off. They both need this. Rodney puts up a protest when John appears at his lab to 'kidnap' him. But John can tell it's just for show. There's no mention of how wrong, wrong, wrong it is to expect him to leave his very important work just when he's at a breakthrough, or how he'll probably come back to find the lab in ruins, or that they've all been turned into farm animals. He just gives an eye roll and a sigh as he closed up his laptop. The eyeroll, John suspects is in reaction to the applause he gets as he packs up his stuff. "Take him. Take him far away. We will not protest if you bring him back a more pleasant man," Dr Zelenka tells them.

"Hey! I'm perfectly pleasant when I'm not surrounded by imbeci--." John drags him away before he can finish the thought.

"Okay, I admit this wasn't the worst idea." Rodney says, licking chocolate off his fingers, quite the inspiring sight. He's easing into the whole relaxation thing; letting John work out the kinks in his back. "That's really, really good."

"I think you'll find this is, too." John reaches into the cooler, and hands Rodney the surprise.

"You remembered!"

"Of course I did."

"Do you know what I would do for a real Coke? With sugar, not that corn syrup crap." That had been first on Rodney's list of unnecessary to their survival, but sorely missed items from Earth.Beaming, Rodney leans in and kisses him. John would go for more, but the call of caffeine and natural and artificial flavoring is stronger for once, than the appeal of making out.

He can't even blame Rodney. For all the variety of worlds they've visited, with the myriad levels of development and technology, none of them had invented carbonation. They've yet to find a planet that has cheddar and sour cream Ruffles, either, which John thinks is a travesty as well.

Rodney's enjoyment as he drinks from one of the two cold bottles John managed to buy off Zelenka (who really is the go-to guy for any sort of black market beverages) hinted at a future in which he repaid John for the treat in a most enjoyable way. Later, when he was full.

"You look ridiculous, you know," Rodney observed, watching John on his surfboard. John tried, but failed to get him onto his own. "I can't decide if you're Moondoggie or Frankie Avalon."

"Well you're too ornery to be Gidget, and believe me, no one would mistake you for Annette."

"Ha ha ha, Colonel. Now go show off some more. But don't get yourself killed. I need -- we need you more than you need to 'Cowabunga, Dude', or whatever the 40 year old kids say."

Only a little bit put out by Rodney's completely unfair assessment of him, John aims for the biggest wave. He realizes too late that it's a very bad idea, when he hears Rodney screaming, and slips, startled. He's trying to get to Rodney when the board hits him on the head and he goes down. Next thing he knows, he's sputtering on the shore, with a so scared he's angry Rodney leaning over him, bedraggled and bleeding himself from a nasty looking gash on the leg.

"What the hell was that?" John says hoarsely as he coughs out water. He's never seen Rodney move so fast.

"Judging by the extremely sharp teeth, the dorsal fin, and the rudimentary legs it used to climb up on the shore I'd say it was a land shark. Anyway, it's dead now. So is your surfboard." Rodney points to what looks like a pile of fiberglass and fish guts.

"A land shark? Seriously?" John has to laugh at that, even if it's mostly relief that they're both relatively all right. He can hear the puddlejumper with Keller and Lorne approaching.

"First I dragged you out of the water, not an easy thing to do, since you were unconscious. And while I was making sure you were breathing -- which thank God you were -- something bit me. Yes, it's smaller than your average shark, but what would you call it?"

John doesn't point out that if it had been an actual shark, Rodney might not be up to debating its species. Besides, he's okay now. Sure his chest is sore, and Keller'll probably pump him full of antibiotics, but it could have been worse. He's almost more embarrassed than anything else.

"I take it back," Rodney said, as the puddlejumper landed, and Dr. Keller and her crew began their ministrations. "You're not Frankie Avalon. You''re Greg Brady. Now all we have to do is find the evil amulet."

Keller glanced up at them as she bandaged Rodney's leg. "The Hawaii episode? That was a great one."

"Tell her about the landshark. Zoology will want a crack at the remains."

"This could only happen to the two of you," she told them. But I think it's safe to say you'll be all right. We'll get that leg checked out and sewn up, and John, you'll be visiting us too, so no complaints. You're damn lucky."

"I'm going to have another scar, aren't I?" Rodney groused, as the effects of the IV began to hit him. John knew if he was complaining that he was pretty much okay already. "It's all your fault, John. Your stupid surfboard and your stupid bruised ego when I was just trying to avoid telling you how inhumanly hot you are. You had to go show off, and make me have to go save you. You so owe me a candygram for this one."

pairing: mckay/sheppard, genre: slash

Previous post Next post
Up