(no subject)
Stepping down from the stargate’s pedestal, Sheppard squinted around by the sudden, dazzlingly bright light of day. The planet worked on a different time rotation than Atlantis and the last time he had arrived, it had been sundown.
Striding through the thick grass, one of the other command teams and Rodney at his heels, he was on his way up the first of the temple steps when he noticed the two figures he had unceremoniously jogged past.
Turning on his heel, he looked down the pair.
Carson looked up from the local bread he had been lathering with something that might be butter and sheepishly waved.
“You got out,” Sheppard’s brows were rocketing towards his hairline.
“Yeah.” Ronon wasn’t eating, but he was seated comfortably on the grass, hands braced behind him, face tilted towards the sky. His eyes were closed and he seemed to just be enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin.
Rodney was staring at them. “But how? And when? And how?” His hands hovered between clapping to his head or gesturing emphatically to the two men who should quite clearly still be prisoners.
“Er...”
Ronon cracked one eye open and glanced at the little group. “It shut down.”
“By itself?” Rodney exclaimed indignantly. “There was no way it could have! You’re talking about a mechanical impossibility. We checked all the protocols and even tried re-wiring the system! It didn’t just shut down!”
The man’s broad shoulders lifted slightly and he closed his eye again. “You wanna think that, McKay, go ahead.”
“Carson!”
Startled, the Scot dropped his bread and fumbled to pick it off his scruffy trousers before the buttery lump stained. “What?”
“What happened?”
“I-I-I... er... like he said.” The doctor went puce and bit hastily into his bread in an attempt to avoid the inevitable barrage of questions that Rodney clearly was ready to fire at him.
“You’re telling me that, for no reason whatsoever, this impenetrable barrier that held you two prisoner for nearly two weeks just miraculously vanished as soon as Zelenka and I stopped working on it?”
Blue eyes peeked up, then wavered. “Aye,” Carson mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Aye, that’s exactly it. You fiddling with it must have been what kept it up!”
“Now, just a minute...”
“Rodney, shut up,” John cut in. He had been looking carefully from one man to the other. Carson darted a wild look at him, pleading and embarrassed at once, and John lowered his head in a subtle nod. “I think he could be right.”
Spluttering with indignation and disgust, Rodney threw up his hands. One side of Ronon’s mouth curled up and he slowly slanted a look at Rodney again, as if daring him to challenge his word again.
“Fine! It just shut down!” the scientist exclaimed. “Even though it denies all rational explanation and goes against even the most basic structure of the system they have in that building, all right, it shut down. All by itself. Great.”
Leaning sideways slightly, his words only audible to Beckett, Ronon observed, “It was almost worth it just for the look on his face.”
Biting into his bread again, Carson mumbled something, his cheeks flaming.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Increasing the pace on the treadmill, Laura Cadman frowned.
It was two days since Carson had returned from that damned planet and she had spent all of fifteen minutes with him, between debriefing, re-briefings and, most frustatingly, her lack-of-briefings that had made him stammer an explanation and scuttle from the room.
He did have work to catch up with in the infirmary, but he hadn’t been coming back to their room at all or been even sleeping there, even when she was on duty, as far as she knew.
She had only spotted him today, because she had just finished security patrol and happened to be passing the infirmary just as he hurried back in, carrying a tray with what looked like congealing pudding on it.
Calling him, she had received a startled look, followed rapidly by a guilty furtive glance and he rushed into the infirmary and no amount of asking could make him open the door for her.
It wasn’t as if she was even mad at him, but he seemed to think she should be. And, of course, when he seemed to think it, he didn’t bother to get his facts straight before avoiding her to make sure it wasn’t true.
Pounding the treadmill, Cadman ran until her calves and thighs burned, but could still feel the tension radiating across her neck and shoulders.
Stepping onto solid ground, she pulled on a sweater over her vest. There was only one person who knew exactly why Carson was avoiding her and he was going to give her an answer, if it killed him.
To her knowledge, no one else on the base, except Sheppard, and perhaps Weir, knew the details of what had gone on in the room that had kept Carson trapped for nearly a fortnight.
And, of course, the man she was going to find.
It took her nearly twenty minutes to find the man she was looking for, asking anyone whom she came across for directions, and finally stepped out onto the balcony, overlooking the heavy swells of the sea.
“Dex.”
He didn’t look around at her. “Cadman, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” She approached the railing he was leaning against. Resting her arms on it, she looked up at him. “Should have figured I’d find you outside. I’d do the same if I got stuck in a stone box for days.”
“Wouldn’t recommend it,” Dex replied, though he did glance at her. “If you’re looking for your doctor, I haven’t seen him since we got back to Atlantis.”
“Funny,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light. “Neither have I.” She saw his brow crease. “Look, Dex, I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but you’ve spent more time with Carson in the last two weeks than anyone.” She turned to face him, her left hand gripping the railing. “Why is he avoiding me?”
She could see the indecision filter briefly across his face. “I don’t know.”
“Dex, I’m not stupid,” she said quietly. “The Colonel thought I should know the situation. If you hadn’t got out when you did, I was meant to be coming down there to tell him to move his ass.” She gave him a faint, lop-sided smile. “If I hadn’t been on the Daedalus, I would have been there sooner.”
Dex was watching her curiously. “You know what held the shield in place?”
“And let me tell you it was a whole lot of fun watching the Colonel trying to explain it,” Her smile came more easily. “Never thought I’d see a man go that shade of pink.”
“The doc... he wasn’t pleased about it.”
“I’ll bet,” Laura leaned back against the railing, watching people come and go on the opposite side of the glass. “His mom was a strict lady.” She sighed, looking tired for a moment. “Look, Dex, I know this isn’t my place and I know I shouldn’t pull you back into this, but he won’t talk to me. He won’t even listen.”
“He probably feels bad, since you two have a thing,” Dex offered.
“Yeah, probably,” Cadman agreed. “But he doesn’t believe me when I try and say anything about it. I bet he wouldn’t believe me if I said I knew almost as soon as the Colonel told you guys.”
“Can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to him, Cadman,” Dex straightened up. “He’s a good guy.”
Smiling, Laura nodded up at him, the wind whipping strands of hair free from her ponytail. “Yeah, I know,” she replied. “And I’d kinda like to keep him.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Entering the infirmary, Ronon knew that Beckett had seen him approaching, because the small, Scottish doctor was standing with his back deliberately to the door, typing on his keyboard.
“Doc.”
“Sorry, I really am quite busy at the moment, Mister Dex, so if you don’t mind…” The frantic tone in Beckett’s voice was matched by the way he started moving rapidly across the room and away from the other man, urgently fiddling with test tubes and sample slides.
Glancing around the infirmary, Ronon observed the empty beds and the lack of medical staff, then let the door slide shut behind him. “Beckett, your woman came to talk to me.”
That, if nothing else, caught Carson’s attention and he spun around.
“I-I… she didn’t know what happened,” he gabbled, tugging at the lapels of his coat feverishly. “I didn’t think… well, ye know how people have… if she knew…”
Ronon moved closer slowly, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “She knows,” he said quietly. Carson’s face fell, shoulders slumping in abject despair. “She knew all along.”
“She couldn’t have!”
“She did,” Ronon closed the distance between them slowly, steadily, giving Carson no reason to bolt. “She came to me, because she says you’ve been avoiding her since we got out.”
“Now, that’s just nonsen…” His words trailed off as he realised yes, he had been hiding away in the infirmary, only going into their shared quarters when he knew she wouldn’t be there. “Well, what was I meant to do? We… you and me… well, what kind of partner am I if I do something like that with someone else, eh?”
Ronon’s brows drew together, eyes narrowed. “Something like what?”
Flustered, Carson waved a hand. “You know.” He said. “What we… did.”
“We did what was necessary,” Ronon replied with a shrug of one shoulder, leaning against the polished counter. His eyes never left Carson’s face. “You’re looking too hard at the what, doc. Think about the why.”
“Wh-what?”
“Why’d’we do it?”
Colouring furiously, Carson fumbled with a pen in his pocket, eyeing the floor at Ronon’s feet. “I’d rather not think about it.”
“Humour me,” Ronon said. “Why did you do it?”
“Well, to get out of there, I suppose…”
The soldier smiled slightly. “And why did you want out?”
Carson frowned. “I see what you’re trying to do.”
“She came to me, because she was worried,” Ronon said simply. “She knew what happened, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to know you’re okay. That you’re gonna be okay together too.”
“Just because it doesn’t bother you doesn’t mean I can forget I was unfaithful to her!”
Ronon stared at him for a moment, then laughed softly. “Beckett, I don’t think doing what you had to do in those circumstances counts.”
“Don’t try to trivialise this!” Carson exclaimed indignantly. “There was… intimacy! And it wasn’t with her!”
Ronon shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Did you enjoy it?”
“What? Er… no. Not really.”
Dark eyes watched him, mildly amused. “There you go. You did something you didn’t want to with someone you didn’t want and didn’t enjoy it just so you could get out to be with her.” He straightened up. “She knows why you did it. You seem to be the only one who doesn’t.”
A dozen protests lined themselves up on the tip of his tongue, but none of them sounded quite right. Plucking uncomfortably at his coat, he mumbled, “I suppose I should talk to her.”
“Yeah, probably,” Ronon agreed dryly.
Carson peered up at the other man. “Doesn’t it bother you at all?”
Again, Ronon shrugged. “As long as you’re okay, don’t see any reason it should,” he replied frankly. “I’ve done worse in the past.”
Sitting down heavily on a stool, Carson examined the pen he was turning over between his fingers. “This isnae something that I ever thought I’d have to deal with,” he said.
“Name anyone else who has,” Ronon challenged. He approached Carson, reaching out to clasp the doctor’s shoulder. “Look, you got a great lady waiting for you. I’m betting she’s the reason you wanted out so bad.”
Nodding with a weak smile, Carson replied, “Aye.”
“If I had someone like her waiting for me,” Ronon caught Carson’s eyes. “I wouldn’t be hanging around in the infirmary and avoiding her.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Go find her, doc.”
To his surprise, Carson got to his feet at once. “Thank you,” he said.
Ronon’s mouth curved up in a smile. “No problem, Beckett,” he replied.
“Ronon, please, after everything that’s happened in the last fortnight, I think you could at least use my forename.”
“Right, Carson.” Strangely, hearing it brought a rueful smile that matched Ronon’s to Beckett’s lips.
Pausing to switch off his computer console, he glanced up at Ronon who seemed to be lost in thought. “What about you?” he inquired, straightening up as the glowing screen powered down.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you want out so much?”
Broad shoulders lifted expressively, his arms folding over his chest. “Not good inside stone walls,” he replied. “Thought I’d go crazy if I had to stay put. No offence to you.”
“So you were only thinking about getting out? You weren’t thinking of...” Though the self-preserving part of him was hiding behind his hands, Carson ploughed on regardless. “Well, didn’t you have someone to come back to?”
Ronon’s brows drew together. “Like who?”
Oh, good god. Surely the man wasn’t that dense?
“Just think about it, lad,” Carson replied with a knowing look, before he withdrew from the infirmary and hastened in the direction of his quarters, hoping that Laura would still be there.
Motionless as a statue, Ronon stood in the middle of the infirmary, brow furrowed in thought. He knew what and who he had been thinking of in that room, but it seemed unlikely that anything could or would happen.
But really, it was as unlikely as Doctor Beckett ever having a woman like Lieutenant Cadman and it had happened for the bashful, prattling little doctor.
A thoughtful look on his face, Ronon strode out of the infirmary and into the city.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
When the door to the room she shared with Beckett silently slid aside revealing a forlorn-looking figure, Laura Cadman nearly pitched backwards off the treadmill in surprise.
“Hello.” Waving with his fingers, Carson’s smile was tentative.
Hitting the control, Laura stepped down, scooping up a towel to pat perspiration from her face and neck. “I guess Dex found you.”
Stepping into the room, Carson sheepishly looked down at his feet. “I should have come to find you sooner,” he admitted. “It just... I...” Blue eyes lifted to her. “I thought you might be upset if you knew.”
Tossing the towel aside, Laura crossed the room in four long-legged paces. Giving him a slow smile, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him into a fierce kiss, so reminiscent of their first.
Beckett’s hands leapt to clutch her hips, pulling her closer, until she broke the kiss.
“Just where do you think the Colonel got you what you needed?” she asked, grey-green eyes glinting. The way he blushed was almost too cute. To stop him shying away, embarrassed, she draped her arms over his shoulders, tilting her head to catch his eye. “Carson, Colonel Sheppard explained. He also thought it would be easier if as few people knew as possible and since it was you in there, he thought I should know.”
“Oh God...” Dropping his head to rest his brow on her warm shoulder, he groaned.
Laura stroked the nape of his neck. “I would have come to point and laugh, if I had been free,” she said.
Carson made a faint, whimpering sound. “That’s not the way I would have had you find out.”
“I would hope not!” Laura exclaimed, then laughed, ruffling his hair. “But going and hiding from me like that made me wonder if you might be thinking about running off with Ronon.”
Carson’s head shot up, expression like a startled deer in the headlights, eyes wide with horror. Laura exploded with mirth, wrapping her arms warmly around him and kissing him again.
“I guess that’s a no, then?”
“An emphatic no!” Carson agreed, drawing his palms against the bare strip of skin between her vest and shorts. “As nice as he might be, I’m rather more interested in you.” Blue met green-grey. “I’m sorry I had to do it, you know.”
Laura touched his cheek fondly. “Because you’re a sweet, sweet man, Mister Beckett.”
“I’m serious! If there’s any way I can make it up to you...”
A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Make up for having the worst sex ever with another straight man? Huh. I could make us even if I borrowed Weir and took her down into that room...” Carson went a peculiar shade of puce. “How about we say we’re even already, okay?”
“But I haven’t...”
Fingertips touched his lips. “Carson, you put up with me and you did something you hated so you could come and make sure I wasn’t let loose on anymore unfortunate men,” she said fondly. “I think we’re even already.”
“It’s just that...”
Cadman studied him, an affectionate smile on her face. “Carson, put it this way; I didn’t come all the way to another galaxy to find my ideal man, just to give him over something dumb like self-preservation.”
“Ideal man?”
“Duh!” Laura laughed. “So, are you going to stop being all guilty about this and get to the part where you convince me you’re not about to take off.”
“Well, I... I couldn’t do that now, could I? I do quite like you, you know.” Blushing furiously, Carson beamed at her.
“I can see your quite-like and raise it, Scotsman,” A long finger curled against his cheek. “I love you.” Carson’s brows shot up, a delighted smile spreading across his face. It, however, faded slightly, when she continued, “But right now, I reserve the right to still pretend to be mad at you.”
“All right...” he said uncertainly
Dragging her palms to his chest, she directed him back and - with an easy push - sent him sprawling on the bed. “I’m still fake-mad,” she reminded him, peeling off her vest. “You’ve got the job of cheering me up.”
His grin returning, Carson scooted to the edge of the bed and caught her by the waist. “I think I can manage that,” he said.
“Aye,” Laura reached down, grabbing his shirt and wrenching it open. Buttons pinged across the floor, bouncing and skittering. Straddling his thighs, she slid into his embrace. “I think you can, Scotsman.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“Colonel. Teyla.”
Halting their sparring session, both Sheppard and Teyla nodded to Ronon. He had slipped into the room a few minutes earlier, remaining silently in the shadows until he knew he would not cause a distraction.
“I think I need more practise with these things,” John held up the twin training sticks.
“You have improved a great deal, Colonel,” Teyla straightened from her defensive crouch, taking her own weapons in one hand and using the other to push stray strands of hair back from her face.
“Just a pity the military back home don’t see how useful fighting with a pair of sticks can be,” Sheppard said dryly. “But I have to go and find Weir and make an excuse to request more guns from home. You want to take over here, Ronon?”
“Sure.” Stepping onto the floor, Ronon ignored the weapons John held out to him. “I’d like to fight hand-to-hand.”
John’s brows rose. “That okay with you, Teyla?”
“I see no reason why not,” Teyla disarmed herself and took a moment to take a drink from a canteen propped against the wall.
“You kids have fun.”
With a small smile to Ronon, Teyla nodded to Sheppard. “Good evening, Colonel, and good luck talking to Doctor Weir.” As he walked out the door, John waved vaguely over his shoulder.
On the mat, waiting for her, Ronon was watching her intently. Replacing her bottle of water, Teyla stepped back onto the mat and ducked a blow that would have floored any one of the marines.
With a sweeping kick, she caught Ronon across the back of his right knee, but he had expected the stroke and allowed himself to fall into a roll, bringing himself back to his feet. Assuming a defensive stance, he inclined his head, a suggestion of a smile on his lips.
“You are happy to be free of that cell?”
Ronon’s chuckle distracted her, allowing him to slip a strike under her guard, which caught her shoulder and knocked her off-balance. “Yeah. Got kinda dull.”
Feinting to the right, she dropped and struck out with her left hand instead of her right, when he attacked, catching him sharply above the hip. Her right hand caught one of his wrists and using his momentum, she used her body to knock his legs out from beneath him.
Landing on his shoulder he half-rolled into a squat, restrained from landing squarely on his feet because his wrist was still gripped in her smaller hand. With a grin, she raised her brows in challenge.
Ronon’s eyes caught hers and her grin faltered as his emerged. Without the least bit of effort, he straightened up, pulling her with him. His free arm leapt up and he caught her by her left arm.
“I see you have not grown complacent,” she observed dryly, flexing her arm against his hold.
“Don’t think I could ever forget how to do this,” he replied, watching her. She knew he was waiting to see if she could break herself free. “Didn’t get a chance to practise, but got a lot of time to think.”
Half-listening, Teyla tried to snake one leg about his, to overbalance him, but he had placed himself so that she could barely even snag his thigh with her foot. His thickly-lashed eyes glittered knowingly and she saw him start to smile.
Instead of trying to pull away, as she had been, she changed her technique, abruptly stepping in, towards him, then twisting in his grip, dropping and tossing him over her shoulders again.
It seemed Ronon had guessed her move, because his grip on her didn’t waver and she found herself lifted and flipped over his head, landing with a thump on the mat in front of him. Her back pressed to his chest, his arms were crossed over her body, his left wrist still held in her right hand, her left arm caught by his right.
Angling her head to look back at him, she raised a brow. “You had time to think?” she inquired airily, trying not to imagine the bruise she would have on her tailbone by morning.
“Mm-hmm,” Ronon’s acknowledgement was close to her ear, a low rumble.
As abruptly as he had caught her, he pushed her away from him and was on his feet, pacing again, fingers flexing by his sides as she scrambled upright, launching a scissor-kick before she was even halfway up.
It caught his ankle and he staggered, shifted his weight, then dropped into a crouch, arms raised in defence as she gained purchase and regained her footing. Watching her, his eyes gleamed.
“What of?” She shook her hair back from her face and shifted lightly from foot to foot. Apparently, the flick of her eyes gave her away. When she kicked out, he caught the round-off and flipped her easily onto her back.
Dropping to one knee, over her, right hand braced by her head, left forearm pressed to her throat, his eyes flicked over her face. “What do you think?”
For half a dozen heartbeats, she stared up at him, panting as raggedly as he was, acutely aware of the weight of him over her, of the heat of his body, of the warmth of his breath on her face.
Then, as fiercely as they had battled, their lips clashed, though neither could be sure who had moved first.
Sinking her fingers into his hair, her thighs pressing to his hips, Teyla felt his arm drop from her throat. In a heartbeat, he was rolled and pinned on his back, her knees braced on either side of his ribs. One hand on his shoulder, the other still tangled in his hair, she gazed down at him.
“That is how you thought you could beat me?” she demanded, though she was struggling to hide a smile.
His warm, rough hands pressed to and slowly slid up her bare thighs, drawing a pleasant shudder from her. “Is it working?” he murmured, gazing at her from beneath his lashes.
Dragging her hand down his torso, the heavy leather gaping, she pressed her palm to his bare chest, curling her fingers. Her nails caught on the scars left by the wraith and she felt his breath hitch.
Surging upright, he pulled her down into his lap, hard against his chest, his broad hand spreading on her back, holding her fast, ensuring there would be no escape. His eyes held hers, mesmerised, captive, making sure she knew his intent.
“I think it is,” she observed, winding her legs around his waist before bringing their lips together again.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“Morning, doc.”
Idly stirring a bowl of what he had been told was porridge, gazing across the room, Beckett started in surprise when a heavy hand clapped his shoulder. Pulling his eyes from Laura, who was talking animatedly with one of the biologists, he looked up.
A brief frown scurried across his face at the bruises that adorned Dex’s throat, but they looked faint and superficial, so his eyes continued automatically to the man’s face. He was looking oddly tired, but more cheerful than Carson could recall seeing him.
“Ah, Ronon.”
Glancing towards Laura, one side of Ronon’s mouth crooked up. “Mind if I join you?”
“No, no! Not at all!” Motioning to the seat opposite him, Beckett hastily cleared up the stack of papers he had been examining before Cadman had appeared. She had a knack of distracting him, no matter what he was doing. And at the thought of her, his eyes darted to her again.
Picking up slivers of crisp bacon with his fingers, Ronon gave the doctor a knowing grin. “Good night?” Carson blushed modestly, hastily tucking his paperwork into a folder. “That’s a yes, huh?”
“We talked.”
Brown eyes glinted with mirth. “Yeah. Talked,” Ronon murmured dryly, then nodded to Carson’s throat. Clapping a hand over Laura’s generous love-bite, Carson went beetroot. “Never seen talk leave a mark like that.”
“What about you, eh?” Carson hastily nudged the subject onwards. “Last time I saw you, you were less bruised.”
Ronon’s eyes dropped to his plate and Beckett could almost have sworn he was bashful. He chewed on a piece of bacon for a moment, though his mouth curved up in an unmistakable grin. “Went to the training room and found Teyla,” he replied.
“And she beat the seven kinds of snot out of you?” Beckett looked surprised and bewildered. It was rare for either of them to be so aggressive to the point of leaving bruises on their opponent’s skin.
Ronon’s gaze flicked up, his teeth flashing white. “Nah, doc,” he replied. “We talked.”
“You don’t get those marks from talk...” The doctor’s eyes went round. “Oh!”
Ronon’s expression verged between smug and acutely shy. He poked a second piece of bacon around his plate with a piece of bread. “Yeah.”
“Well, that is good!” Beckett enthused, smiling broadly as Laura wandered towards them, a tray balanced on one hand. “It’s been a bloody strange week, but I think things might be turning out for the better.”
“No more going into strange rooms off-world, though, right?” Ronon said with a quiet chuckle.
“Definitely!” Carson agreed, looking over Ronon’s shoulder as Laura approached, brows rising. “Morning, love.”
“Morning, Carson. Ronon.” Sliding into the seat beside the doctor, Cadman placed her tray on the table. “So what are you boys up to?”
“Just talking,” Ronon’s dark eyes flicked up to her face.
Cadman studied him for a moment, then looked at Carson. “Since I have you both here, there’s something I needed to ask you,” Both men looked at her expectantly. “What percentage of the profit do you want?”
“Profit of what?” Carson asked warily, a spoonful of porridge halfway to his mouth.
Picking up a piece of toast and biting into it, Laura shrugged. “The video tape sales.”
Several people looked around in concern as Carson started choking, having not only managed to inhale the porridge, but also half of the spoon as well. Eyes watering, he thumped his chest, hacking and coughing.
Slapping him firmly on the back, dislodging errant spoon and breakfast, Cadman smiled innocently. “Just kidding.”
Striding through the thick grass, one of the other command teams and Rodney at his heels, he was on his way up the first of the temple steps when he noticed the two figures he had unceremoniously jogged past.
Turning on his heel, he looked down the pair.
Carson looked up from the local bread he had been lathering with something that might be butter and sheepishly waved.
“You got out,” Sheppard’s brows were rocketing towards his hairline.
“Yeah.” Ronon wasn’t eating, but he was seated comfortably on the grass, hands braced behind him, face tilted towards the sky. His eyes were closed and he seemed to just be enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin.
Rodney was staring at them. “But how? And when? And how?” His hands hovered between clapping to his head or gesturing emphatically to the two men who should quite clearly still be prisoners.
“Er...”
Ronon cracked one eye open and glanced at the little group. “It shut down.”
“By itself?” Rodney exclaimed indignantly. “There was no way it could have! You’re talking about a mechanical impossibility. We checked all the protocols and even tried re-wiring the system! It didn’t just shut down!”
The man’s broad shoulders lifted slightly and he closed his eye again. “You wanna think that, McKay, go ahead.”
“Carson!”
Startled, the Scot dropped his bread and fumbled to pick it off his scruffy trousers before the buttery lump stained. “What?”
“What happened?”
“I-I-I... er... like he said.” The doctor went puce and bit hastily into his bread in an attempt to avoid the inevitable barrage of questions that Rodney clearly was ready to fire at him.
“You’re telling me that, for no reason whatsoever, this impenetrable barrier that held you two prisoner for nearly two weeks just miraculously vanished as soon as Zelenka and I stopped working on it?”
Blue eyes peeked up, then wavered. “Aye,” Carson mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Aye, that’s exactly it. You fiddling with it must have been what kept it up!”
“Now, just a minute...”
“Rodney, shut up,” John cut in. He had been looking carefully from one man to the other. Carson darted a wild look at him, pleading and embarrassed at once, and John lowered his head in a subtle nod. “I think he could be right.”
Spluttering with indignation and disgust, Rodney threw up his hands. One side of Ronon’s mouth curled up and he slowly slanted a look at Rodney again, as if daring him to challenge his word again.
“Fine! It just shut down!” the scientist exclaimed. “Even though it denies all rational explanation and goes against even the most basic structure of the system they have in that building, all right, it shut down. All by itself. Great.”
Leaning sideways slightly, his words only audible to Beckett, Ronon observed, “It was almost worth it just for the look on his face.”
Biting into his bread again, Carson mumbled something, his cheeks flaming.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Increasing the pace on the treadmill, Laura Cadman frowned.
It was two days since Carson had returned from that damned planet and she had spent all of fifteen minutes with him, between debriefing, re-briefings and, most frustatingly, her lack-of-briefings that had made him stammer an explanation and scuttle from the room.
He did have work to catch up with in the infirmary, but he hadn’t been coming back to their room at all or been even sleeping there, even when she was on duty, as far as she knew.
She had only spotted him today, because she had just finished security patrol and happened to be passing the infirmary just as he hurried back in, carrying a tray with what looked like congealing pudding on it.
Calling him, she had received a startled look, followed rapidly by a guilty furtive glance and he rushed into the infirmary and no amount of asking could make him open the door for her.
It wasn’t as if she was even mad at him, but he seemed to think she should be. And, of course, when he seemed to think it, he didn’t bother to get his facts straight before avoiding her to make sure it wasn’t true.
Pounding the treadmill, Cadman ran until her calves and thighs burned, but could still feel the tension radiating across her neck and shoulders.
Stepping onto solid ground, she pulled on a sweater over her vest. There was only one person who knew exactly why Carson was avoiding her and he was going to give her an answer, if it killed him.
To her knowledge, no one else on the base, except Sheppard, and perhaps Weir, knew the details of what had gone on in the room that had kept Carson trapped for nearly a fortnight.
And, of course, the man she was going to find.
It took her nearly twenty minutes to find the man she was looking for, asking anyone whom she came across for directions, and finally stepped out onto the balcony, overlooking the heavy swells of the sea.
“Dex.”
He didn’t look around at her. “Cadman, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” She approached the railing he was leaning against. Resting her arms on it, she looked up at him. “Should have figured I’d find you outside. I’d do the same if I got stuck in a stone box for days.”
“Wouldn’t recommend it,” Dex replied, though he did glance at her. “If you’re looking for your doctor, I haven’t seen him since we got back to Atlantis.”
“Funny,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light. “Neither have I.” She saw his brow crease. “Look, Dex, I don’t know you, you don’t know me, but you’ve spent more time with Carson in the last two weeks than anyone.” She turned to face him, her left hand gripping the railing. “Why is he avoiding me?”
She could see the indecision filter briefly across his face. “I don’t know.”
“Dex, I’m not stupid,” she said quietly. “The Colonel thought I should know the situation. If you hadn’t got out when you did, I was meant to be coming down there to tell him to move his ass.” She gave him a faint, lop-sided smile. “If I hadn’t been on the Daedalus, I would have been there sooner.”
Dex was watching her curiously. “You know what held the shield in place?”
“And let me tell you it was a whole lot of fun watching the Colonel trying to explain it,” Her smile came more easily. “Never thought I’d see a man go that shade of pink.”
“The doc... he wasn’t pleased about it.”
“I’ll bet,” Laura leaned back against the railing, watching people come and go on the opposite side of the glass. “His mom was a strict lady.” She sighed, looking tired for a moment. “Look, Dex, I know this isn’t my place and I know I shouldn’t pull you back into this, but he won’t talk to me. He won’t even listen.”
“He probably feels bad, since you two have a thing,” Dex offered.
“Yeah, probably,” Cadman agreed. “But he doesn’t believe me when I try and say anything about it. I bet he wouldn’t believe me if I said I knew almost as soon as the Colonel told you guys.”
“Can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to him, Cadman,” Dex straightened up. “He’s a good guy.”
Smiling, Laura nodded up at him, the wind whipping strands of hair free from her ponytail. “Yeah, I know,” she replied. “And I’d kinda like to keep him.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
Entering the infirmary, Ronon knew that Beckett had seen him approaching, because the small, Scottish doctor was standing with his back deliberately to the door, typing on his keyboard.
“Doc.”
“Sorry, I really am quite busy at the moment, Mister Dex, so if you don’t mind…” The frantic tone in Beckett’s voice was matched by the way he started moving rapidly across the room and away from the other man, urgently fiddling with test tubes and sample slides.
Glancing around the infirmary, Ronon observed the empty beds and the lack of medical staff, then let the door slide shut behind him. “Beckett, your woman came to talk to me.”
That, if nothing else, caught Carson’s attention and he spun around.
“I-I… she didn’t know what happened,” he gabbled, tugging at the lapels of his coat feverishly. “I didn’t think… well, ye know how people have… if she knew…”
Ronon moved closer slowly, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “She knows,” he said quietly. Carson’s face fell, shoulders slumping in abject despair. “She knew all along.”
“She couldn’t have!”
“She did,” Ronon closed the distance between them slowly, steadily, giving Carson no reason to bolt. “She came to me, because she says you’ve been avoiding her since we got out.”
“Now, that’s just nonsen…” His words trailed off as he realised yes, he had been hiding away in the infirmary, only going into their shared quarters when he knew she wouldn’t be there. “Well, what was I meant to do? We… you and me… well, what kind of partner am I if I do something like that with someone else, eh?”
Ronon’s brows drew together, eyes narrowed. “Something like what?”
Flustered, Carson waved a hand. “You know.” He said. “What we… did.”
“We did what was necessary,” Ronon replied with a shrug of one shoulder, leaning against the polished counter. His eyes never left Carson’s face. “You’re looking too hard at the what, doc. Think about the why.”
“Wh-what?”
“Why’d’we do it?”
Colouring furiously, Carson fumbled with a pen in his pocket, eyeing the floor at Ronon’s feet. “I’d rather not think about it.”
“Humour me,” Ronon said. “Why did you do it?”
“Well, to get out of there, I suppose…”
The soldier smiled slightly. “And why did you want out?”
Carson frowned. “I see what you’re trying to do.”
“She came to me, because she was worried,” Ronon said simply. “She knew what happened, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to know you’re okay. That you’re gonna be okay together too.”
“Just because it doesn’t bother you doesn’t mean I can forget I was unfaithful to her!”
Ronon stared at him for a moment, then laughed softly. “Beckett, I don’t think doing what you had to do in those circumstances counts.”
“Don’t try to trivialise this!” Carson exclaimed indignantly. “There was… intimacy! And it wasn’t with her!”
Ronon shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Did you enjoy it?”
“What? Er… no. Not really.”
Dark eyes watched him, mildly amused. “There you go. You did something you didn’t want to with someone you didn’t want and didn’t enjoy it just so you could get out to be with her.” He straightened up. “She knows why you did it. You seem to be the only one who doesn’t.”
A dozen protests lined themselves up on the tip of his tongue, but none of them sounded quite right. Plucking uncomfortably at his coat, he mumbled, “I suppose I should talk to her.”
“Yeah, probably,” Ronon agreed dryly.
Carson peered up at the other man. “Doesn’t it bother you at all?”
Again, Ronon shrugged. “As long as you’re okay, don’t see any reason it should,” he replied frankly. “I’ve done worse in the past.”
Sitting down heavily on a stool, Carson examined the pen he was turning over between his fingers. “This isnae something that I ever thought I’d have to deal with,” he said.
“Name anyone else who has,” Ronon challenged. He approached Carson, reaching out to clasp the doctor’s shoulder. “Look, you got a great lady waiting for you. I’m betting she’s the reason you wanted out so bad.”
Nodding with a weak smile, Carson replied, “Aye.”
“If I had someone like her waiting for me,” Ronon caught Carson’s eyes. “I wouldn’t be hanging around in the infirmary and avoiding her.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Go find her, doc.”
To his surprise, Carson got to his feet at once. “Thank you,” he said.
Ronon’s mouth curved up in a smile. “No problem, Beckett,” he replied.
“Ronon, please, after everything that’s happened in the last fortnight, I think you could at least use my forename.”
“Right, Carson.” Strangely, hearing it brought a rueful smile that matched Ronon’s to Beckett’s lips.
Pausing to switch off his computer console, he glanced up at Ronon who seemed to be lost in thought. “What about you?” he inquired, straightening up as the glowing screen powered down.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you want out so much?”
Broad shoulders lifted expressively, his arms folding over his chest. “Not good inside stone walls,” he replied. “Thought I’d go crazy if I had to stay put. No offence to you.”
“So you were only thinking about getting out? You weren’t thinking of...” Though the self-preserving part of him was hiding behind his hands, Carson ploughed on regardless. “Well, didn’t you have someone to come back to?”
Ronon’s brows drew together. “Like who?”
Oh, good god. Surely the man wasn’t that dense?
“Just think about it, lad,” Carson replied with a knowing look, before he withdrew from the infirmary and hastened in the direction of his quarters, hoping that Laura would still be there.
Motionless as a statue, Ronon stood in the middle of the infirmary, brow furrowed in thought. He knew what and who he had been thinking of in that room, but it seemed unlikely that anything could or would happen.
But really, it was as unlikely as Doctor Beckett ever having a woman like Lieutenant Cadman and it had happened for the bashful, prattling little doctor.
A thoughtful look on his face, Ronon strode out of the infirmary and into the city.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
When the door to the room she shared with Beckett silently slid aside revealing a forlorn-looking figure, Laura Cadman nearly pitched backwards off the treadmill in surprise.
“Hello.” Waving with his fingers, Carson’s smile was tentative.
Hitting the control, Laura stepped down, scooping up a towel to pat perspiration from her face and neck. “I guess Dex found you.”
Stepping into the room, Carson sheepishly looked down at his feet. “I should have come to find you sooner,” he admitted. “It just... I...” Blue eyes lifted to her. “I thought you might be upset if you knew.”
Tossing the towel aside, Laura crossed the room in four long-legged paces. Giving him a slow smile, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him into a fierce kiss, so reminiscent of their first.
Beckett’s hands leapt to clutch her hips, pulling her closer, until she broke the kiss.
“Just where do you think the Colonel got you what you needed?” she asked, grey-green eyes glinting. The way he blushed was almost too cute. To stop him shying away, embarrassed, she draped her arms over his shoulders, tilting her head to catch his eye. “Carson, Colonel Sheppard explained. He also thought it would be easier if as few people knew as possible and since it was you in there, he thought I should know.”
“Oh God...” Dropping his head to rest his brow on her warm shoulder, he groaned.
Laura stroked the nape of his neck. “I would have come to point and laugh, if I had been free,” she said.
Carson made a faint, whimpering sound. “That’s not the way I would have had you find out.”
“I would hope not!” Laura exclaimed, then laughed, ruffling his hair. “But going and hiding from me like that made me wonder if you might be thinking about running off with Ronon.”
Carson’s head shot up, expression like a startled deer in the headlights, eyes wide with horror. Laura exploded with mirth, wrapping her arms warmly around him and kissing him again.
“I guess that’s a no, then?”
“An emphatic no!” Carson agreed, drawing his palms against the bare strip of skin between her vest and shorts. “As nice as he might be, I’m rather more interested in you.” Blue met green-grey. “I’m sorry I had to do it, you know.”
Laura touched his cheek fondly. “Because you’re a sweet, sweet man, Mister Beckett.”
“I’m serious! If there’s any way I can make it up to you...”
A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Make up for having the worst sex ever with another straight man? Huh. I could make us even if I borrowed Weir and took her down into that room...” Carson went a peculiar shade of puce. “How about we say we’re even already, okay?”
“But I haven’t...”
Fingertips touched his lips. “Carson, you put up with me and you did something you hated so you could come and make sure I wasn’t let loose on anymore unfortunate men,” she said fondly. “I think we’re even already.”
“It’s just that...”
Cadman studied him, an affectionate smile on her face. “Carson, put it this way; I didn’t come all the way to another galaxy to find my ideal man, just to give him over something dumb like self-preservation.”
“Ideal man?”
“Duh!” Laura laughed. “So, are you going to stop being all guilty about this and get to the part where you convince me you’re not about to take off.”
“Well, I... I couldn’t do that now, could I? I do quite like you, you know.” Blushing furiously, Carson beamed at her.
“I can see your quite-like and raise it, Scotsman,” A long finger curled against his cheek. “I love you.” Carson’s brows shot up, a delighted smile spreading across his face. It, however, faded slightly, when she continued, “But right now, I reserve the right to still pretend to be mad at you.”
“All right...” he said uncertainly
Dragging her palms to his chest, she directed him back and - with an easy push - sent him sprawling on the bed. “I’m still fake-mad,” she reminded him, peeling off her vest. “You’ve got the job of cheering me up.”
His grin returning, Carson scooted to the edge of the bed and caught her by the waist. “I think I can manage that,” he said.
“Aye,” Laura reached down, grabbing his shirt and wrenching it open. Buttons pinged across the floor, bouncing and skittering. Straddling his thighs, she slid into his embrace. “I think you can, Scotsman.”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“Colonel. Teyla.”
Halting their sparring session, both Sheppard and Teyla nodded to Ronon. He had slipped into the room a few minutes earlier, remaining silently in the shadows until he knew he would not cause a distraction.
“I think I need more practise with these things,” John held up the twin training sticks.
“You have improved a great deal, Colonel,” Teyla straightened from her defensive crouch, taking her own weapons in one hand and using the other to push stray strands of hair back from her face.
“Just a pity the military back home don’t see how useful fighting with a pair of sticks can be,” Sheppard said dryly. “But I have to go and find Weir and make an excuse to request more guns from home. You want to take over here, Ronon?”
“Sure.” Stepping onto the floor, Ronon ignored the weapons John held out to him. “I’d like to fight hand-to-hand.”
John’s brows rose. “That okay with you, Teyla?”
“I see no reason why not,” Teyla disarmed herself and took a moment to take a drink from a canteen propped against the wall.
“You kids have fun.”
With a small smile to Ronon, Teyla nodded to Sheppard. “Good evening, Colonel, and good luck talking to Doctor Weir.” As he walked out the door, John waved vaguely over his shoulder.
On the mat, waiting for her, Ronon was watching her intently. Replacing her bottle of water, Teyla stepped back onto the mat and ducked a blow that would have floored any one of the marines.
With a sweeping kick, she caught Ronon across the back of his right knee, but he had expected the stroke and allowed himself to fall into a roll, bringing himself back to his feet. Assuming a defensive stance, he inclined his head, a suggestion of a smile on his lips.
“You are happy to be free of that cell?”
Ronon’s chuckle distracted her, allowing him to slip a strike under her guard, which caught her shoulder and knocked her off-balance. “Yeah. Got kinda dull.”
Feinting to the right, she dropped and struck out with her left hand instead of her right, when he attacked, catching him sharply above the hip. Her right hand caught one of his wrists and using his momentum, she used her body to knock his legs out from beneath him.
Landing on his shoulder he half-rolled into a squat, restrained from landing squarely on his feet because his wrist was still gripped in her smaller hand. With a grin, she raised her brows in challenge.
Ronon’s eyes caught hers and her grin faltered as his emerged. Without the least bit of effort, he straightened up, pulling her with him. His free arm leapt up and he caught her by her left arm.
“I see you have not grown complacent,” she observed dryly, flexing her arm against his hold.
“Don’t think I could ever forget how to do this,” he replied, watching her. She knew he was waiting to see if she could break herself free. “Didn’t get a chance to practise, but got a lot of time to think.”
Half-listening, Teyla tried to snake one leg about his, to overbalance him, but he had placed himself so that she could barely even snag his thigh with her foot. His thickly-lashed eyes glittered knowingly and she saw him start to smile.
Instead of trying to pull away, as she had been, she changed her technique, abruptly stepping in, towards him, then twisting in his grip, dropping and tossing him over her shoulders again.
It seemed Ronon had guessed her move, because his grip on her didn’t waver and she found herself lifted and flipped over his head, landing with a thump on the mat in front of him. Her back pressed to his chest, his arms were crossed over her body, his left wrist still held in her right hand, her left arm caught by his right.
Angling her head to look back at him, she raised a brow. “You had time to think?” she inquired airily, trying not to imagine the bruise she would have on her tailbone by morning.
“Mm-hmm,” Ronon’s acknowledgement was close to her ear, a low rumble.
As abruptly as he had caught her, he pushed her away from him and was on his feet, pacing again, fingers flexing by his sides as she scrambled upright, launching a scissor-kick before she was even halfway up.
It caught his ankle and he staggered, shifted his weight, then dropped into a crouch, arms raised in defence as she gained purchase and regained her footing. Watching her, his eyes gleamed.
“What of?” She shook her hair back from her face and shifted lightly from foot to foot. Apparently, the flick of her eyes gave her away. When she kicked out, he caught the round-off and flipped her easily onto her back.
Dropping to one knee, over her, right hand braced by her head, left forearm pressed to her throat, his eyes flicked over her face. “What do you think?”
For half a dozen heartbeats, she stared up at him, panting as raggedly as he was, acutely aware of the weight of him over her, of the heat of his body, of the warmth of his breath on her face.
Then, as fiercely as they had battled, their lips clashed, though neither could be sure who had moved first.
Sinking her fingers into his hair, her thighs pressing to his hips, Teyla felt his arm drop from her throat. In a heartbeat, he was rolled and pinned on his back, her knees braced on either side of his ribs. One hand on his shoulder, the other still tangled in his hair, she gazed down at him.
“That is how you thought you could beat me?” she demanded, though she was struggling to hide a smile.
His warm, rough hands pressed to and slowly slid up her bare thighs, drawing a pleasant shudder from her. “Is it working?” he murmured, gazing at her from beneath his lashes.
Dragging her hand down his torso, the heavy leather gaping, she pressed her palm to his bare chest, curling her fingers. Her nails caught on the scars left by the wraith and she felt his breath hitch.
Surging upright, he pulled her down into his lap, hard against his chest, his broad hand spreading on her back, holding her fast, ensuring there would be no escape. His eyes held hers, mesmerised, captive, making sure she knew his intent.
“I think it is,” she observed, winding her legs around his waist before bringing their lips together again.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8
“Morning, doc.”
Idly stirring a bowl of what he had been told was porridge, gazing across the room, Beckett started in surprise when a heavy hand clapped his shoulder. Pulling his eyes from Laura, who was talking animatedly with one of the biologists, he looked up.
A brief frown scurried across his face at the bruises that adorned Dex’s throat, but they looked faint and superficial, so his eyes continued automatically to the man’s face. He was looking oddly tired, but more cheerful than Carson could recall seeing him.
“Ah, Ronon.”
Glancing towards Laura, one side of Ronon’s mouth crooked up. “Mind if I join you?”
“No, no! Not at all!” Motioning to the seat opposite him, Beckett hastily cleared up the stack of papers he had been examining before Cadman had appeared. She had a knack of distracting him, no matter what he was doing. And at the thought of her, his eyes darted to her again.
Picking up slivers of crisp bacon with his fingers, Ronon gave the doctor a knowing grin. “Good night?” Carson blushed modestly, hastily tucking his paperwork into a folder. “That’s a yes, huh?”
“We talked.”
Brown eyes glinted with mirth. “Yeah. Talked,” Ronon murmured dryly, then nodded to Carson’s throat. Clapping a hand over Laura’s generous love-bite, Carson went beetroot. “Never seen talk leave a mark like that.”
“What about you, eh?” Carson hastily nudged the subject onwards. “Last time I saw you, you were less bruised.”
Ronon’s eyes dropped to his plate and Beckett could almost have sworn he was bashful. He chewed on a piece of bacon for a moment, though his mouth curved up in an unmistakable grin. “Went to the training room and found Teyla,” he replied.
“And she beat the seven kinds of snot out of you?” Beckett looked surprised and bewildered. It was rare for either of them to be so aggressive to the point of leaving bruises on their opponent’s skin.
Ronon’s gaze flicked up, his teeth flashing white. “Nah, doc,” he replied. “We talked.”
“You don’t get those marks from talk...” The doctor’s eyes went round. “Oh!”
Ronon’s expression verged between smug and acutely shy. He poked a second piece of bacon around his plate with a piece of bread. “Yeah.”
“Well, that is good!” Beckett enthused, smiling broadly as Laura wandered towards them, a tray balanced on one hand. “It’s been a bloody strange week, but I think things might be turning out for the better.”
“No more going into strange rooms off-world, though, right?” Ronon said with a quiet chuckle.
“Definitely!” Carson agreed, looking over Ronon’s shoulder as Laura approached, brows rising. “Morning, love.”
“Morning, Carson. Ronon.” Sliding into the seat beside the doctor, Cadman placed her tray on the table. “So what are you boys up to?”
“Just talking,” Ronon’s dark eyes flicked up to her face.
Cadman studied him for a moment, then looked at Carson. “Since I have you both here, there’s something I needed to ask you,” Both men looked at her expectantly. “What percentage of the profit do you want?”
“Profit of what?” Carson asked warily, a spoonful of porridge halfway to his mouth.
Picking up a piece of toast and biting into it, Laura shrugged. “The video tape sales.”
Several people looked around in concern as Carson started choking, having not only managed to inhale the porridge, but also half of the spoon as well. Eyes watering, he thumped his chest, hacking and coughing.
Slapping him firmly on the back, dislodging errant spoon and breakfast, Cadman smiled innocently. “Just kidding.”