Fic: Exit to Eden (McKay/Sheppard)
Title: Exit to Eden
Author: maverick4oz
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Recipient: cupidsbow
Spoilers: A couple references to Season 4 episodes.
Summary: “You’re the one who wanted to be held hostage by the sexy aliens.”
Author's Note: With apologizes to Anne Rice for all the bashing. ;-) Also, in my world John and Rodney really are that bendy. cupidsbow, I hope your holiday is Merry and Bright.
Exit to Eden
~*~*~*~*~
“Did you just grab my ass?”
Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes, even though in their current position he knew John couldn’t see them. “No. Believe me, if I grabbed your ass, you’d *know* it. You wouldn’t have to ask.” He went back to pulling on the ropes that bound their hands together behind their backs.
“Will you knock that off. You’re the one who wanted to be held hostage by the sexy aliens.”
Rodney continued to pull and yank to no avail. There was no way that he was going to be able to get his hands free, but sitting still had never been a skill he’d mastered. “I also wanted to win a Nobel by 30. Since when do my wishes come true?”
Rodney could feel John’s shrug against his own back. “Well, you know what they say, be careful what you wish for.”
Rodney wriggled in indignation, yanking Sheppard even more flush against his back. “So you’re saying this is my fault?”
“Yes. McKay. That’s exactly what I’m saying. This is all your fault.”
Trying to twist his head so he could look at Sheppard’s face, Rodney only managed to tighten the ropes even more. “How do you figure? I was following you and the sexy alien... Oh, again with the kidding. Is this really a good time for kidding? We’re tied together waiting to be handed over to the Wraith.”
John shrugged again. “Well it’s not like this hasn’t happened before. And Lorne and Ronon should realize something's up soon.”
“Why are you so blasé about this? Have you been hit about the head too many times? They are going to give us over to their masters in the hope of eternal life. When exactly did you become okay with our lives becoming some cheesy version of an Anne Rice novel?”
“Well, right now, I’d say this is more Exit to Eden than Interview with a Vampire.”
“If you’re trying to horrify me into silence, it’s working. Please tell me you aren’t a fan of Rice’s attempt at eroticism.”
“Downtime between missions could be really boring, and it's not like there's a Barnes & Noble close by when you're in the middle of the desert. You read what you could get your hands on. And it sounds like you’re pretty familiar with all of Rice’s work there yourself, McKay.”
Rodney could feel John’s smirk even if he couldn’t see it. Rodney shuddered, “Siberia,” as if that explained it all.
John nodded in reply, so maybe it did.
It had started out as a routine mission, which of course in the Pegasus Galaxy meant that they were running for their lives from some natives who were particularly effective with these spiky shot put type weapons before Rodney had had his second cup of coffee. At least they weren’t arrows was all he could think as he dived for cover. They had answered an SOS call from a group of settlers on MX-916. It should have been an easy mission. With Teyla off active duty for the next few months, Lorne had become an adjunct addition to Team Sheppard. It seemed Carter thought Lorne had better negotiating skills than either John, Ronon or Rodney, and Rodney really couldn’t argue that point. Not that Lorne’s particular skills were needed on this mission. Saving people’s lives tended to bring its own diplomacy.
Having saved the settlers from their attackers, John had ordered Lorne and Ronon to take the jumper to discourage the shot putters from attacking again anytime soon. The settlers were extremely happy for their rescue. And their leader -- a leggy blonde with apple pie cheeks and a wholesome smile -- promised them a great gift in return for their help. Of course, the “gift” turned out to be an invitation to be the main course at a Wraith banquet. As he and Sheppard were tied together, Rodney decided that maybe it was time to give up on blondes altogether.
The friction of John wiggling -- there was no other word for it -- against him brought him back to the present. “Somehow I don’t think the version of the Hokey Pokey you’re playing over there is going to aid in our escape.”
“I was trying to get to the knife in my boot.”
“You have a knife in your boot?”
John yanked forward again. “Yes, McKay. We can’t all keep them in our hair like Ronon.”
“Which boot is it in?”
“The left one. Why?”
They might get out of this one yet. “Because if you can scoot up on your knees and slide your leg under you, I think I can bend backward against you enough to reach down into your boot with my right hand.”
John hoisted himself up on his knees. “Let me guess, you had a girlfriend who did yoga?”
Rodney sighed. “No, I wish. Jeannie had an unnatural attachment to Twister and it was either play with her or have her tell my father that I was picking on her.”
John slid his leg back, his knee cracking at the unnatural position. “Anytime now, McKay.”
“Hold on. What can I say, I was a lot more limber when I was younger. Slide it back just a little bit more." His fingers could feel the end of the knife. "Almost there. Got it.”
They really just might make it out of this alive, if he could just get the blade open. “Okay, slide your leg forward again and see if you can open the blade with your hand.”
John did as Rodney instructed and they were soon free of their bonds. Of course their celebration was short-lived as the leggy blonde showed back up with a Wraith who looked like he took his styling tips from David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. “Oh crap,” was all Rodney got out before he watched John get stunned and fall to the ground.
For whatever reason -- probably thinking either he wasn’t a risk or them not wanting to carry two unconscious bodies out into the open -- the captors made Rodney march behind as they dragged John to some sort of courtyard complete with a Gothic altar at one end. Christ, they really were living some sort of Rice-inspired nightmare.
Rodney could feel his heart thump in his chest as they splayed John across the altar. He had to think quickly. As Sheppard had pointed out, Lorne and Ronon should be back with the jumper sooner rather than later. That was if they hadn't been captured themselves. Watching the blonde -- and yes, he was now done with them forever -- slip John's arms into the cuffs on the alter and rip open his shirt was enough to spring him into action.
Stepping between the altar and Ziggy Wraith, Rodney put his hands on his hips -- if it was to keep them from shaking, no one else had to know. "You've got to be kidding me. Given the choice between Colonel Stringbean and me, you think he's the better meal?"
Rodney knew the very moment that John woke up. He cringed as he watched him pull against his restraints. “What the hell? McKay. McKay! Stand down.”
Rodney turned to look at John and shook his head. God he hoped the cavalry arrived soon. “Seriously, you don’t want him. One of your brethren already fed on him, spit him right back out. Don’t know if it was the hair or the lack of meat on his bones, but I guess he just wasn’t very palatable. Now *me* on the other hand. Not only do I have my good looks, but I’m a genius. I’m assuming intelligence has got to be somewhat tasty to you.”
The Wraith leaned forward and sniffed at Rodney’s neck. “Such an act of bravery is unexpected.”
“What can I say, I have hidden depths. Let me take his place. You won't regret it."
Rodney could hear John thrash and pull behind him but he couldn't turn to look at him. Not now. "Like hell you won't. You chose me, so do it already."
The Wraith sniffed again, running his finger across Rodney's jaw. "I think this one might be right. A sweeter feed--strength and fear. Cut the other one down. We'll start with this one."
Rodney felt himself pushed toward the altar just as the telltale blast of Ronon's gun sped through the air. Ronon came running into the compound on foot, taking out the Wraith with one shot as Lorne sat the jumper down in the middle of the courtyard and fired a drone into the dwelling where they had been held. It wasn't until Ronon had cut John down that Rodney let himself breath again.
He helped Sheppard into the jumper as Ronon and Lorne rounded up the remaining Wraith worshippers. He wasn't sure what Carter would decide to do with them, but he hoped the shot put people came back again really soon.
He was lost in his thoughts when Sheppard pushed him up against the side of the jumper, his head narrowing missing a shelf. John's hands dug into Rodney’s shoulders. “What the hell was that? You do not offer yourself up to the Wraith. Ever.”
Rodney still felt a bit shaky but he wasn't about to let Sheppard question his decision. Not when it was the right one. “Well it’s not like I plan on making a habit of it, but it seemed like the best option at the time.”
Sheppard. . . John loosened his grip as Rodney watched a thousand different emotions play across his face. “You dead? How the hell is that the best option?”
Rodney brought his own hands up to John's shoulders. “Well you were unconscious and I knew Ronon and Lorne would be back soon. It seemed liked the only way to buy time.”
John was breathing hard, like he couldn't catch his breath. "You couldn't know they'd show up in time. You were going to let him feed on you." John took another stuttering breath. "Jesus Rodney."
If Rodney was reading John's eyes right, he really was done with blondes forever because he had someone who wanted him right here in front of him. "It's not like you wouldn't have done the same for me. It's what we do."
John's fingers tightened again. "No, it's not what we do. Now who's being blasé?"
If he learned anything this afternoon, it was actions speak louder than words, so Rodney slid his hands down to grab John's ass and pull him flush against his own body. "I wasn't going to let a Davie Bowie wannabe Wraith have you for lunch, John. I wasn't." Rodney made John meet his eyes. "I had to watch you get fed upon once already. I couldn't have survived it again."
John dropped his head to Rodney's shoulders and sighed. "You were right."
"Of course I was. It was the only option."
John rubbed his head back and forth against Rodney's shoulder. "No, you're not getting out of that one so easily. But you were right, I knew exactly when you grabbed my ass."
"Oh." Rodney let go. "Sorry about that."
John looked up as he cupped Rodney face in his hands. "You don't get out of that one so easily either." Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Rodney's.
"Oh, thank God," he said against John's mouth, letting his lips and tongue translate all the words he couldn't bring himself to say. Rodney slid his hands back down to John's ass and held on tight.
Kissing John was something Rodney was prepared to do forever until he heard Ronon slamming someone against the outside of the jumper. Hopefully, it wasn't Lorne. Rodney gave John's ass one final squeeze before they broke apart.
John rubbed his thumb across Rodney's lips. "We'll finish this argument back on Atlantis."
Rodney nodded in agreement as Lorne and Ronon entered the jumper. Hopefully John would find less clothes a helpful way to get to the root of the problem. From the smirk he shot Rodney before taking the pilot seat, Rodney was pretty sure they'd be "arguing" for a long time to come.
Author: maverick4oz
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Recipient: cupidsbow
Spoilers: A couple references to Season 4 episodes.
Summary: “You’re the one who wanted to be held hostage by the sexy aliens.”
Author's Note: With apologizes to Anne Rice for all the bashing. ;-) Also, in my world John and Rodney really are that bendy. cupidsbow, I hope your holiday is Merry and Bright.
Exit to Eden
~*~*~*~*~
“Did you just grab my ass?”
Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes, even though in their current position he knew John couldn’t see them. “No. Believe me, if I grabbed your ass, you’d *know* it. You wouldn’t have to ask.” He went back to pulling on the ropes that bound their hands together behind their backs.
“Will you knock that off. You’re the one who wanted to be held hostage by the sexy aliens.”
Rodney continued to pull and yank to no avail. There was no way that he was going to be able to get his hands free, but sitting still had never been a skill he’d mastered. “I also wanted to win a Nobel by 30. Since when do my wishes come true?”
Rodney could feel John’s shrug against his own back. “Well, you know what they say, be careful what you wish for.”
Rodney wriggled in indignation, yanking Sheppard even more flush against his back. “So you’re saying this is my fault?”
“Yes. McKay. That’s exactly what I’m saying. This is all your fault.”
Trying to twist his head so he could look at Sheppard’s face, Rodney only managed to tighten the ropes even more. “How do you figure? I was following you and the sexy alien... Oh, again with the kidding. Is this really a good time for kidding? We’re tied together waiting to be handed over to the Wraith.”
John shrugged again. “Well it’s not like this hasn’t happened before. And Lorne and Ronon should realize something's up soon.”
“Why are you so blasé about this? Have you been hit about the head too many times? They are going to give us over to their masters in the hope of eternal life. When exactly did you become okay with our lives becoming some cheesy version of an Anne Rice novel?”
“Well, right now, I’d say this is more Exit to Eden than Interview with a Vampire.”
“If you’re trying to horrify me into silence, it’s working. Please tell me you aren’t a fan of Rice’s attempt at eroticism.”
“Downtime between missions could be really boring, and it's not like there's a Barnes & Noble close by when you're in the middle of the desert. You read what you could get your hands on. And it sounds like you’re pretty familiar with all of Rice’s work there yourself, McKay.”
Rodney could feel John’s smirk even if he couldn’t see it. Rodney shuddered, “Siberia,” as if that explained it all.
John nodded in reply, so maybe it did.
It had started out as a routine mission, which of course in the Pegasus Galaxy meant that they were running for their lives from some natives who were particularly effective with these spiky shot put type weapons before Rodney had had his second cup of coffee. At least they weren’t arrows was all he could think as he dived for cover. They had answered an SOS call from a group of settlers on MX-916. It should have been an easy mission. With Teyla off active duty for the next few months, Lorne had become an adjunct addition to Team Sheppard. It seemed Carter thought Lorne had better negotiating skills than either John, Ronon or Rodney, and Rodney really couldn’t argue that point. Not that Lorne’s particular skills were needed on this mission. Saving people’s lives tended to bring its own diplomacy.
Having saved the settlers from their attackers, John had ordered Lorne and Ronon to take the jumper to discourage the shot putters from attacking again anytime soon. The settlers were extremely happy for their rescue. And their leader -- a leggy blonde with apple pie cheeks and a wholesome smile -- promised them a great gift in return for their help. Of course, the “gift” turned out to be an invitation to be the main course at a Wraith banquet. As he and Sheppard were tied together, Rodney decided that maybe it was time to give up on blondes altogether.
The friction of John wiggling -- there was no other word for it -- against him brought him back to the present. “Somehow I don’t think the version of the Hokey Pokey you’re playing over there is going to aid in our escape.”
“I was trying to get to the knife in my boot.”
“You have a knife in your boot?”
John yanked forward again. “Yes, McKay. We can’t all keep them in our hair like Ronon.”
“Which boot is it in?”
“The left one. Why?”
They might get out of this one yet. “Because if you can scoot up on your knees and slide your leg under you, I think I can bend backward against you enough to reach down into your boot with my right hand.”
John hoisted himself up on his knees. “Let me guess, you had a girlfriend who did yoga?”
Rodney sighed. “No, I wish. Jeannie had an unnatural attachment to Twister and it was either play with her or have her tell my father that I was picking on her.”
John slid his leg back, his knee cracking at the unnatural position. “Anytime now, McKay.”
“Hold on. What can I say, I was a lot more limber when I was younger. Slide it back just a little bit more." His fingers could feel the end of the knife. "Almost there. Got it.”
They really just might make it out of this alive, if he could just get the blade open. “Okay, slide your leg forward again and see if you can open the blade with your hand.”
John did as Rodney instructed and they were soon free of their bonds. Of course their celebration was short-lived as the leggy blonde showed back up with a Wraith who looked like he took his styling tips from David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. “Oh crap,” was all Rodney got out before he watched John get stunned and fall to the ground.
For whatever reason -- probably thinking either he wasn’t a risk or them not wanting to carry two unconscious bodies out into the open -- the captors made Rodney march behind as they dragged John to some sort of courtyard complete with a Gothic altar at one end. Christ, they really were living some sort of Rice-inspired nightmare.
Rodney could feel his heart thump in his chest as they splayed John across the altar. He had to think quickly. As Sheppard had pointed out, Lorne and Ronon should be back with the jumper sooner rather than later. That was if they hadn't been captured themselves. Watching the blonde -- and yes, he was now done with them forever -- slip John's arms into the cuffs on the alter and rip open his shirt was enough to spring him into action.
Stepping between the altar and Ziggy Wraith, Rodney put his hands on his hips -- if it was to keep them from shaking, no one else had to know. "You've got to be kidding me. Given the choice between Colonel Stringbean and me, you think he's the better meal?"
Rodney knew the very moment that John woke up. He cringed as he watched him pull against his restraints. “What the hell? McKay. McKay! Stand down.”
Rodney turned to look at John and shook his head. God he hoped the cavalry arrived soon. “Seriously, you don’t want him. One of your brethren already fed on him, spit him right back out. Don’t know if it was the hair or the lack of meat on his bones, but I guess he just wasn’t very palatable. Now *me* on the other hand. Not only do I have my good looks, but I’m a genius. I’m assuming intelligence has got to be somewhat tasty to you.”
The Wraith leaned forward and sniffed at Rodney’s neck. “Such an act of bravery is unexpected.”
“What can I say, I have hidden depths. Let me take his place. You won't regret it."
Rodney could hear John thrash and pull behind him but he couldn't turn to look at him. Not now. "Like hell you won't. You chose me, so do it already."
The Wraith sniffed again, running his finger across Rodney's jaw. "I think this one might be right. A sweeter feed--strength and fear. Cut the other one down. We'll start with this one."
Rodney felt himself pushed toward the altar just as the telltale blast of Ronon's gun sped through the air. Ronon came running into the compound on foot, taking out the Wraith with one shot as Lorne sat the jumper down in the middle of the courtyard and fired a drone into the dwelling where they had been held. It wasn't until Ronon had cut John down that Rodney let himself breath again.
He helped Sheppard into the jumper as Ronon and Lorne rounded up the remaining Wraith worshippers. He wasn't sure what Carter would decide to do with them, but he hoped the shot put people came back again really soon.
He was lost in his thoughts when Sheppard pushed him up against the side of the jumper, his head narrowing missing a shelf. John's hands dug into Rodney’s shoulders. “What the hell was that? You do not offer yourself up to the Wraith. Ever.”
Rodney still felt a bit shaky but he wasn't about to let Sheppard question his decision. Not when it was the right one. “Well it’s not like I plan on making a habit of it, but it seemed like the best option at the time.”
Sheppard. . . John loosened his grip as Rodney watched a thousand different emotions play across his face. “You dead? How the hell is that the best option?”
Rodney brought his own hands up to John's shoulders. “Well you were unconscious and I knew Ronon and Lorne would be back soon. It seemed liked the only way to buy time.”
John was breathing hard, like he couldn't catch his breath. "You couldn't know they'd show up in time. You were going to let him feed on you." John took another stuttering breath. "Jesus Rodney."
If Rodney was reading John's eyes right, he really was done with blondes forever because he had someone who wanted him right here in front of him. "It's not like you wouldn't have done the same for me. It's what we do."
John's fingers tightened again. "No, it's not what we do. Now who's being blasé?"
If he learned anything this afternoon, it was actions speak louder than words, so Rodney slid his hands down to grab John's ass and pull him flush against his own body. "I wasn't going to let a Davie Bowie wannabe Wraith have you for lunch, John. I wasn't." Rodney made John meet his eyes. "I had to watch you get fed upon once already. I couldn't have survived it again."
John dropped his head to Rodney's shoulders and sighed. "You were right."
"Of course I was. It was the only option."
John rubbed his head back and forth against Rodney's shoulder. "No, you're not getting out of that one so easily. But you were right, I knew exactly when you grabbed my ass."
"Oh." Rodney let go. "Sorry about that."
John looked up as he cupped Rodney face in his hands. "You don't get out of that one so easily either." Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Rodney's.
"Oh, thank God," he said against John's mouth, letting his lips and tongue translate all the words he couldn't bring himself to say. Rodney slid his hands back down to John's ass and held on tight.
Kissing John was something Rodney was prepared to do forever until he heard Ronon slamming someone against the outside of the jumper. Hopefully, it wasn't Lorne. Rodney gave John's ass one final squeeze before they broke apart.
John rubbed his thumb across Rodney's lips. "We'll finish this argument back on Atlantis."
Rodney nodded in agreement as Lorne and Ronon entered the jumper. Hopefully John would find less clothes a helpful way to get to the root of the problem. From the smirk he shot Rodney before taking the pilot seat, Rodney was pretty sure they'd be "arguing" for a long time to come.