"Go From Here" John Sheppard/Cameron Mitchell, NC-17
Title: Go From Here
Author: alizarin_nyc
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sheppard/Mitchell
Rating: NC-17
Written for: slashfest BUT I MISSED THE DEADLINE. And now am banned. *sigh* It's been one of those years. Here's the prompt from the marvelous mf_luder_xf: John and Cam get to know each other during the Atlantis mission's return to Earth (The Return I&II) and when Sheppard and the team return to save Atlantis, Mitchell joins them, ultimately asking to be transfered from SG-1 to Atlantis. He gets his own team and after a joint mission with Shep's team that goes very wrong, the two finally realize just what's been brewing between them and find a little comfort.
Note: This is a follow-up to the story Everything Up To, And Including featuring John Sheppard and Cameron Mitchell on earth, however this is also a standalone.
1.
John didn't think it was weird to stand on the gateroom balcony and watch the new SGA-1 team go through the gate. It wasn't weird at all, it was simply painful. And awkward, and even nerve-racking.
Colonel Cameron Mitchell led his team through to PX3-151 and John watched as he, Ronon, Halling and Radek disappeared. The gate closed. Elizabeth walked by him on her way to her office and didn't say a word, just looked him straight in the face. Her expression said nothing, which said everything.
John wasn't allowed to protest, not any more. It wasn't up to her, it wasn't up to him. General O'Neill had appreciated being rescued from the foothold situation and everything John and John's friends had done, but he was insistent that John be grounded for a while as a punishment of sorts. He had to set an example. John's attitude throughout the entire hearing hadn't helped matters. And Elizabeth needing her job back didn't help at all.
Teyla had gone to live with the Athosians again, allowing Halling the chance to join Colonel Mitchell's team. John had hung on to Rodney with all the ferocity of a mother and her cub, and finally the general consensus had been that Radek needed to clock off-world time and they really couldn't break up the Sheppard and McKay duo.
John turned away from the gate, scuffing his shoe in a completely childish way. Rodney met him in the hallway.
"Colonel Tightpants off and running?" Rodney asked.
"Yep," John said.
"And you're completely and utterly over it and ready to get back to work?"
"Sure, whatever you say."
"Oh, come on Colonel, you can't hold a grudge forever. And even though Colonel Mitchell is one of my least favorite people in the known universes, due to an unfortunate lemon-related misunderstanding, he's from SG-1 and they're the best."
"They're not the best, Rodney, you just think that because of Sam Carter," John said. He wasn't over Mitchell leading the team and he wasn't over Rodney's insistence on liking women. Neither one of those things was their fault, but it was certainly wasn't working in John's favor and that was making him excessively cranky at the moment. If Rodney liked men instead of women, they would have gotten all the sexual tension out of the way early on. And if that had happened, John wouldn't have slept with Mitchell when they were all on earth and he thought that he'd never see Atlantis again. And if he hadn't returned to the SGC the morning after with Mitchell, Mitchell wouldn't have been there when Rodney was waiting for John in John's quarters on base. And then Mitchell wouldn't have been in on the plan Rodney had to save Atlantis and John wouldn't have asked him to come along and then Mitchell wouldn't even be here and John and Rodney could live happily ever after.
"No, no, no," Rodney was saying, "it's not because of Sam, although she certainly adds a lot to the team." Rodney mistook the look on John's face for something other than sour grapes, and said "listen, I'm sure that you're the best there is, but let's look at it as not so much of a competition and go with the point of view that you and Colonel Mitchell are both terrific, each in your own way. He had Sam, sure, but you have me, and that gives you a sizable advantage. Anyway, I'm meeting Katie in a few hours; if I don't get my minions to do enough work by then I'll have to be late for the fifth time in a row." Rodney finally took a deep breath. "You going to be okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Rodney, really, for listening," John said to Rodney's retreating back.
"Oh sure, anytime," Rodney said.
2.
When Mitchell's team missed their scheduled check-in, John was summoned to the gateroom. He met Rodney on the way there but this time they didn't say anything at all.
Elizabeth was inscrutable, as if she was afraid to show that she gave a damn about how John was feeling for fear he'd throw it back in her face. He would, too. It was irrational but he couldn't bring himself to care. She gave him the go-ahead for a rescue and only his irritation kept him from being completely smug.
"Suit up, Rodney," he said.
They took the jumper through this time, and a quick surveillance of the area immediately surrounding the gate indicated that Cameron and company weren't there. A sizable forest stretched for miles and John increased the circumference of his orbit, finally seeing the outlying area beyond the green.
"Holy crap," Rodney said. The two marines with them said "whoa" simultaneously.
"Christ," John said.
Spreading far in every direction was a city, made up almost entirely of white buildings, most of them small and square, tinier ones rising steadily up to taller buildings in the middle. They were smooth and spotless from the air, with multiple rows of black windows like insect eyes.
"We're being hailed," Rodney said. "And ordered to touch down immediately. Oh, and surrender our weapons."
"This is going to be just lovely," John said.
3.
They were led into a large, windowless chamber lined on each side with desks and androgynous, uniformed workers. No one looked at them as they entered. At the other end of the chamber a door opened and Mitchell, Ronon, Radek and Halling walked through. Unharmed, John noticed.
"What the fuck? You sent in the cavalry?" Mitchell asked.
"You missed your check-in," John replied stupidly. He was still angry, but he couldn't help the relief that washed over when he saw that Mitchell was okay.
"Please. You must complete the documentation." Their guard, a small woman in white, gestured to them to go back through the door Mitchell had come through. "Unauthorized entrances are strictly prohibited. There will be serious fines." She turned and shut the door behind them with a bang.
"Well, this is certainly a warm welcome," Rodney said.
"These people are wild about documentation," Mitchell said. "In fact, we spent hours in the forest and the rest of the time we've been right here. They put us up in a nice hotel but we're not allowed to go back to the gate until we complete the paperwork."
"You thought SGC paperwork was bad? That is nothing," Radek said. His hair was standing straight up as if he'd run his hands through it for days. "Get comfortable, get a pen, get busy. We can't get out of here until we fill out every last square on every last piece of paper."
"And if it's not accurate, they escort you right back here. They may be small, but they're ruthless," Ronon said, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his head.
"What?" Rodney was screaming. He stomped up and down the length of the room, banging uselessly on the smooth plastic-like walls. "This can't be happening!"
"This cannot be happening," John said.
4.
The "guest quarters" were located in a tall building -- white, of course -- and heavily guarded. John was certain they'd completed all the paperwork and would be allowed to leave in the morning, but the planet's inhabitants, the Goorang, told them that they were going to process it overnight and contact their leader to confirm their stories.
They were a picky, touchy bunch, with absolutely zero sense of humor. John didn't like them at all.
His room was dimly lit and the walls were smooth, made of something like enamel. The low light skittered across the surface of the walls. A sizable but practical bed was in the middle under a large pane of glass with a view of the city lights. One-way glass, John guessed, which was why all the windows looked like square black holes from the outside. It was a nice room, and John wanted to enjoy it but his mood was still pretty bleak.
"Fuck Mitchell and the horse he rode in on," he muttered. Arrogant macho-men from the South made the absolute worst closeted military homos.
John set his pack down on a table made of a hard plastic-like substance and sat on a long, low couch underneath a piece of wall art that looked like a large metal toothbrush. A tiny mini-fridge revealed a selection of what looked like alcohol, so he tried some, ignoring the Beckett-voice in his head that said not to. He felt a pleasant numbness steal over his body.
After a while, a square box on a smaller table next to him buzzed softly. It had a blue light on it and a small button, and when it didn't stop buzzing, John pressed the button. The door slid up revealing Cameron Mitchell.
"Fuck off, Mitchell."
"Can I come in," he said, stepping in before the door quickly slid shut again. "Sheez! Nearly lost a tailfeather there."
"I didn't order room service," John said.
"Not here to service you, as it happens." Mitchell stood stiffly, his back straight, looking almost foolishly out of place in the shiny modern room.
"What do you want then?"
"One of those," Mitchell nodded at the selection of tiny bottles John was trying out.
"Probably toxic to humans. Please, help yourself."
Mitchell did, perching on the plastic table next to John's pack. "Listen, Sheppard, we need to talk about what's going on here."
"Never figured you for the girl, Mitchell," John said wryly.
"That's clever," Mitchell retorted. "What the hell's going on with you?"
"Going on," John said slowly. "You took my command and I'm feeling childishly pissed off about it. Especially since I had to come in and pull your ass out of the fire on your first mission."
"My ass was hardly on fire," Mitchell said. "And I didn't want this team. It's your team. Whatever you think, I've never angled for your job. I had my own job, a pretty sweet one at that. You asked for my help in taking back Atlantis and I put my life on the line to follow your lead on that because you know what? You were right on the money about what had to be done. We both paid for it, yet you're mad at me."
"Okay, it doesn't make sense when you say it like that." John put on his best pouty face and watched Mitchell completely ignore him as he downed two bottles of liquor in row. "Hey, not so fast. Drinking is what got us in trouble before."
"I don't recall there being any trouble," Mitchell said, suddenly flashing a small grin. He was seriously going to flirt with John right now? "You were no trouble at all."
"I hate your fucking guts."
"Yeah, yeah you do. But you'll get over it." Mitchell sighed and stood up as if to leave. And suddenly John wanted him to stay.
"Hey."
"Yeah."
"I might get over it."
"Okay. What’s it gonna take?"
5.
Once Cameron was standing naked in front of him, John felt better than he had in weeks.
He shoved Cameron back on to the bed and then slowly started to undress. It felt good to see the look of appreciation on Cameron's face. With each piece of clothing he discarded, he felt freer, better all the time. As if the clothes had been holding in the anger.
He crawled up Cameron's body, and kissed him lightly, just a brush of lips, before he continued moving up until his cock was dangling over Cameron's mouth. He didn't need to say anything, Cameron lifted his head to swallow him down and he'd only been half-hard, but now he felt the burn of arousal, the swell that took his breath away momentarily. He braced his hands on the window -- and hoped he really had been right about the one-way glass -- and let Cameron do some of the work, until he was ready to take over. With a hand on Cameron's forehead, he stilled him, and began to thrust his hips, not too hard, but hard enough to make Cameron's eyes water, and the thought of it gave him a thrill that trickled down his spine and pooled in his balls.
When Cameron's hands gripped his thighs, either to slow him down or speed him up, John wasn't sure, he pulled out of Cameron's mouth and lifted his leg over. "I don't have anything," Cameron said. John flipped him over anyway and stretched out along his body.
"Me neither. I'll just have to be creative." He slid his cock into the seam of Cameron's ass and there was enough slickness from his mouth to create the right amount of sliding friction. John pressed Cameron down into the mattress until he moaned and spread himself out, giving it all up to John. John rocked and slid against Cameron's ass with their bodies pressed tightly together until he came, shooting all over Cameron's muscled back and watching him flinch and flex beneath him.
John sat up, pulling Cameron up too, and held him by the shoulder with one hand, snaking the other hand around to jerk him off, hard and fast. Cameron arched, his head flung back, the veins in his neck standing out as he choked back a shout.
John put a weak, shaky hand flat in the middle of Cameron's back and shoved. "Now, get out."
Cameron laughed and flopped down on the bed. He didn't get up. John didn't have the strength to kick him out, so he gave up and wrapped a sheet around himself, curling up on one side and leaving Cameron in the middle of all the wet.
6.
In the morning, John attempted to eject Cameron from his room again, but Cameron just laughed. "I don't take orders from you, hoss," he said. John tried to be angry. He tried to be petulant. He tried to remember how horrible it was that his team had been broken up. He couldn't.
"You didn't seem to have a problem taking orders from me last night," John pointed out. "Or being beneath me."
"Hey, it's not a competition, remember that." Cameron strode naked to the shower as if he owned the place. John still sort of hated the man's comfort with his own nudity. "But if these morons still aren't happy with our paperwork and don't let us go, I think we should compete for who knocks out most of 'em."
"You're so on," John said. "And if I beat down more of them than you, you give me Ronon back."
"I was gonna do that anyway," Cameron said. "He's utterly miserable on my team and he just makes me miss Teal'c like crazy. He's all yours."
"Aw, you're sweet on me," John said. "Now please take that shower, you smell."
7.
"Sooo," Elizabeth began. She looked uncertain, and as if she were again puzzled by one Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. "You're totally okay with this now?"
"Yeah," John said, automatically enthusiastic. "I think having two teams of our caliber is going to expand the amount of valuable contacts we make and will increase the chances of successful rescue and recovery. The team that is standing down can be ready to go in on a rescue mission, if it's needed, and that's likely to be far more successful. Teyla's back and with the other team doing half the work, she has more time to research the cultures of planets we're visiting and keep track of her people. Rodney has more time to investigate the Ancient doohickeys, and Ronon, well, Ronon is getting antsy."
"And you?"
"I'm not antsy at all." John smiled the self-satisfied smile of a man who was getting laid on a regular basis. He was pretty sure Elizabeth had never seen this particular smile before so he let her have the full wattage.
"Well, I'm glad. I hope you and Colonel Mitchell can eventually come to some sort of detente. He really is a good man."
"Yes, well," John kept smiling and now he sensed that it was freaking Elizabeth out. "Please. It's not like it's a competition, Elizabeth."
*end* (for now)
.
Author: alizarin_nyc
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG-1
Pairing: Sheppard/Mitchell
Rating: NC-17
Written for: slashfest BUT I MISSED THE DEADLINE. And now am banned. *sigh* It's been one of those years. Here's the prompt from the marvelous mf_luder_xf: John and Cam get to know each other during the Atlantis mission's return to Earth (The Return I&II) and when Sheppard and the team return to save Atlantis, Mitchell joins them, ultimately asking to be transfered from SG-1 to Atlantis. He gets his own team and after a joint mission with Shep's team that goes very wrong, the two finally realize just what's been brewing between them and find a little comfort.
Note: This is a follow-up to the story Everything Up To, And Including featuring John Sheppard and Cameron Mitchell on earth, however this is also a standalone.
1.
John didn't think it was weird to stand on the gateroom balcony and watch the new SGA-1 team go through the gate. It wasn't weird at all, it was simply painful. And awkward, and even nerve-racking.
Colonel Cameron Mitchell led his team through to PX3-151 and John watched as he, Ronon, Halling and Radek disappeared. The gate closed. Elizabeth walked by him on her way to her office and didn't say a word, just looked him straight in the face. Her expression said nothing, which said everything.
John wasn't allowed to protest, not any more. It wasn't up to her, it wasn't up to him. General O'Neill had appreciated being rescued from the foothold situation and everything John and John's friends had done, but he was insistent that John be grounded for a while as a punishment of sorts. He had to set an example. John's attitude throughout the entire hearing hadn't helped matters. And Elizabeth needing her job back didn't help at all.
Teyla had gone to live with the Athosians again, allowing Halling the chance to join Colonel Mitchell's team. John had hung on to Rodney with all the ferocity of a mother and her cub, and finally the general consensus had been that Radek needed to clock off-world time and they really couldn't break up the Sheppard and McKay duo.
John turned away from the gate, scuffing his shoe in a completely childish way. Rodney met him in the hallway.
"Colonel Tightpants off and running?" Rodney asked.
"Yep," John said.
"And you're completely and utterly over it and ready to get back to work?"
"Sure, whatever you say."
"Oh, come on Colonel, you can't hold a grudge forever. And even though Colonel Mitchell is one of my least favorite people in the known universes, due to an unfortunate lemon-related misunderstanding, he's from SG-1 and they're the best."
"They're not the best, Rodney, you just think that because of Sam Carter," John said. He wasn't over Mitchell leading the team and he wasn't over Rodney's insistence on liking women. Neither one of those things was their fault, but it was certainly wasn't working in John's favor and that was making him excessively cranky at the moment. If Rodney liked men instead of women, they would have gotten all the sexual tension out of the way early on. And if that had happened, John wouldn't have slept with Mitchell when they were all on earth and he thought that he'd never see Atlantis again. And if he hadn't returned to the SGC the morning after with Mitchell, Mitchell wouldn't have been there when Rodney was waiting for John in John's quarters on base. And then Mitchell wouldn't have been in on the plan Rodney had to save Atlantis and John wouldn't have asked him to come along and then Mitchell wouldn't even be here and John and Rodney could live happily ever after.
"No, no, no," Rodney was saying, "it's not because of Sam, although she certainly adds a lot to the team." Rodney mistook the look on John's face for something other than sour grapes, and said "listen, I'm sure that you're the best there is, but let's look at it as not so much of a competition and go with the point of view that you and Colonel Mitchell are both terrific, each in your own way. He had Sam, sure, but you have me, and that gives you a sizable advantage. Anyway, I'm meeting Katie in a few hours; if I don't get my minions to do enough work by then I'll have to be late for the fifth time in a row." Rodney finally took a deep breath. "You going to be okay?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Rodney, really, for listening," John said to Rodney's retreating back.
"Oh sure, anytime," Rodney said.
2.
When Mitchell's team missed their scheduled check-in, John was summoned to the gateroom. He met Rodney on the way there but this time they didn't say anything at all.
Elizabeth was inscrutable, as if she was afraid to show that she gave a damn about how John was feeling for fear he'd throw it back in her face. He would, too. It was irrational but he couldn't bring himself to care. She gave him the go-ahead for a rescue and only his irritation kept him from being completely smug.
"Suit up, Rodney," he said.
They took the jumper through this time, and a quick surveillance of the area immediately surrounding the gate indicated that Cameron and company weren't there. A sizable forest stretched for miles and John increased the circumference of his orbit, finally seeing the outlying area beyond the green.
"Holy crap," Rodney said. The two marines with them said "whoa" simultaneously.
"Christ," John said.
Spreading far in every direction was a city, made up almost entirely of white buildings, most of them small and square, tinier ones rising steadily up to taller buildings in the middle. They were smooth and spotless from the air, with multiple rows of black windows like insect eyes.
"We're being hailed," Rodney said. "And ordered to touch down immediately. Oh, and surrender our weapons."
"This is going to be just lovely," John said.
3.
They were led into a large, windowless chamber lined on each side with desks and androgynous, uniformed workers. No one looked at them as they entered. At the other end of the chamber a door opened and Mitchell, Ronon, Radek and Halling walked through. Unharmed, John noticed.
"What the fuck? You sent in the cavalry?" Mitchell asked.
"You missed your check-in," John replied stupidly. He was still angry, but he couldn't help the relief that washed over when he saw that Mitchell was okay.
"Please. You must complete the documentation." Their guard, a small woman in white, gestured to them to go back through the door Mitchell had come through. "Unauthorized entrances are strictly prohibited. There will be serious fines." She turned and shut the door behind them with a bang.
"Well, this is certainly a warm welcome," Rodney said.
"These people are wild about documentation," Mitchell said. "In fact, we spent hours in the forest and the rest of the time we've been right here. They put us up in a nice hotel but we're not allowed to go back to the gate until we complete the paperwork."
"You thought SGC paperwork was bad? That is nothing," Radek said. His hair was standing straight up as if he'd run his hands through it for days. "Get comfortable, get a pen, get busy. We can't get out of here until we fill out every last square on every last piece of paper."
"And if it's not accurate, they escort you right back here. They may be small, but they're ruthless," Ronon said, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his head.
"What?" Rodney was screaming. He stomped up and down the length of the room, banging uselessly on the smooth plastic-like walls. "This can't be happening!"
"This cannot be happening," John said.
4.
The "guest quarters" were located in a tall building -- white, of course -- and heavily guarded. John was certain they'd completed all the paperwork and would be allowed to leave in the morning, but the planet's inhabitants, the Goorang, told them that they were going to process it overnight and contact their leader to confirm their stories.
They were a picky, touchy bunch, with absolutely zero sense of humor. John didn't like them at all.
His room was dimly lit and the walls were smooth, made of something like enamel. The low light skittered across the surface of the walls. A sizable but practical bed was in the middle under a large pane of glass with a view of the city lights. One-way glass, John guessed, which was why all the windows looked like square black holes from the outside. It was a nice room, and John wanted to enjoy it but his mood was still pretty bleak.
"Fuck Mitchell and the horse he rode in on," he muttered. Arrogant macho-men from the South made the absolute worst closeted military homos.
John set his pack down on a table made of a hard plastic-like substance and sat on a long, low couch underneath a piece of wall art that looked like a large metal toothbrush. A tiny mini-fridge revealed a selection of what looked like alcohol, so he tried some, ignoring the Beckett-voice in his head that said not to. He felt a pleasant numbness steal over his body.
After a while, a square box on a smaller table next to him buzzed softly. It had a blue light on it and a small button, and when it didn't stop buzzing, John pressed the button. The door slid up revealing Cameron Mitchell.
"Fuck off, Mitchell."
"Can I come in," he said, stepping in before the door quickly slid shut again. "Sheez! Nearly lost a tailfeather there."
"I didn't order room service," John said.
"Not here to service you, as it happens." Mitchell stood stiffly, his back straight, looking almost foolishly out of place in the shiny modern room.
"What do you want then?"
"One of those," Mitchell nodded at the selection of tiny bottles John was trying out.
"Probably toxic to humans. Please, help yourself."
Mitchell did, perching on the plastic table next to John's pack. "Listen, Sheppard, we need to talk about what's going on here."
"Never figured you for the girl, Mitchell," John said wryly.
"That's clever," Mitchell retorted. "What the hell's going on with you?"
"Going on," John said slowly. "You took my command and I'm feeling childishly pissed off about it. Especially since I had to come in and pull your ass out of the fire on your first mission."
"My ass was hardly on fire," Mitchell said. "And I didn't want this team. It's your team. Whatever you think, I've never angled for your job. I had my own job, a pretty sweet one at that. You asked for my help in taking back Atlantis and I put my life on the line to follow your lead on that because you know what? You were right on the money about what had to be done. We both paid for it, yet you're mad at me."
"Okay, it doesn't make sense when you say it like that." John put on his best pouty face and watched Mitchell completely ignore him as he downed two bottles of liquor in row. "Hey, not so fast. Drinking is what got us in trouble before."
"I don't recall there being any trouble," Mitchell said, suddenly flashing a small grin. He was seriously going to flirt with John right now? "You were no trouble at all."
"I hate your fucking guts."
"Yeah, yeah you do. But you'll get over it." Mitchell sighed and stood up as if to leave. And suddenly John wanted him to stay.
"Hey."
"Yeah."
"I might get over it."
"Okay. What’s it gonna take?"
5.
Once Cameron was standing naked in front of him, John felt better than he had in weeks.
He shoved Cameron back on to the bed and then slowly started to undress. It felt good to see the look of appreciation on Cameron's face. With each piece of clothing he discarded, he felt freer, better all the time. As if the clothes had been holding in the anger.
He crawled up Cameron's body, and kissed him lightly, just a brush of lips, before he continued moving up until his cock was dangling over Cameron's mouth. He didn't need to say anything, Cameron lifted his head to swallow him down and he'd only been half-hard, but now he felt the burn of arousal, the swell that took his breath away momentarily. He braced his hands on the window -- and hoped he really had been right about the one-way glass -- and let Cameron do some of the work, until he was ready to take over. With a hand on Cameron's forehead, he stilled him, and began to thrust his hips, not too hard, but hard enough to make Cameron's eyes water, and the thought of it gave him a thrill that trickled down his spine and pooled in his balls.
When Cameron's hands gripped his thighs, either to slow him down or speed him up, John wasn't sure, he pulled out of Cameron's mouth and lifted his leg over. "I don't have anything," Cameron said. John flipped him over anyway and stretched out along his body.
"Me neither. I'll just have to be creative." He slid his cock into the seam of Cameron's ass and there was enough slickness from his mouth to create the right amount of sliding friction. John pressed Cameron down into the mattress until he moaned and spread himself out, giving it all up to John. John rocked and slid against Cameron's ass with their bodies pressed tightly together until he came, shooting all over Cameron's muscled back and watching him flinch and flex beneath him.
John sat up, pulling Cameron up too, and held him by the shoulder with one hand, snaking the other hand around to jerk him off, hard and fast. Cameron arched, his head flung back, the veins in his neck standing out as he choked back a shout.
John put a weak, shaky hand flat in the middle of Cameron's back and shoved. "Now, get out."
Cameron laughed and flopped down on the bed. He didn't get up. John didn't have the strength to kick him out, so he gave up and wrapped a sheet around himself, curling up on one side and leaving Cameron in the middle of all the wet.
6.
In the morning, John attempted to eject Cameron from his room again, but Cameron just laughed. "I don't take orders from you, hoss," he said. John tried to be angry. He tried to be petulant. He tried to remember how horrible it was that his team had been broken up. He couldn't.
"You didn't seem to have a problem taking orders from me last night," John pointed out. "Or being beneath me."
"Hey, it's not a competition, remember that." Cameron strode naked to the shower as if he owned the place. John still sort of hated the man's comfort with his own nudity. "But if these morons still aren't happy with our paperwork and don't let us go, I think we should compete for who knocks out most of 'em."
"You're so on," John said. "And if I beat down more of them than you, you give me Ronon back."
"I was gonna do that anyway," Cameron said. "He's utterly miserable on my team and he just makes me miss Teal'c like crazy. He's all yours."
"Aw, you're sweet on me," John said. "Now please take that shower, you smell."
7.
"Sooo," Elizabeth began. She looked uncertain, and as if she were again puzzled by one Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. "You're totally okay with this now?"
"Yeah," John said, automatically enthusiastic. "I think having two teams of our caliber is going to expand the amount of valuable contacts we make and will increase the chances of successful rescue and recovery. The team that is standing down can be ready to go in on a rescue mission, if it's needed, and that's likely to be far more successful. Teyla's back and with the other team doing half the work, she has more time to research the cultures of planets we're visiting and keep track of her people. Rodney has more time to investigate the Ancient doohickeys, and Ronon, well, Ronon is getting antsy."
"And you?"
"I'm not antsy at all." John smiled the self-satisfied smile of a man who was getting laid on a regular basis. He was pretty sure Elizabeth had never seen this particular smile before so he let her have the full wattage.
"Well, I'm glad. I hope you and Colonel Mitchell can eventually come to some sort of detente. He really is a good man."
"Yes, well," John kept smiling and now he sensed that it was freaking Elizabeth out. "Please. It's not like it's a competition, Elizabeth."
*end* (for now)
.