Fic: Aleatoric Life 12/25: Incalzando
Title: Aleatoric Life 12: Incalzando
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett, Lorne, Emmagan, Dex, Weir, Parrish
Relationships: Beckett/McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13, though the series as a whole is NC-17
Warnings: Mention of non-con, major character whumpage, violence, language, cliffhanger.
Spoilers: None this part
Summary: They had rescued him, but they had yet to truly bring him safely home. Part of the Aleatoric Life series.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
As they expected, the apartment was empty when John and Carson entered.
"Do you suppose he's had dinner?" Carson asked, setting down the fresh fruit and vegetables and the small wheel of soft herbed cheese the Athosians had given him in thanks for his services.
John snorted. "Rodney? Not likely." John added two loaves of bread, some sweet flatbread, and a bottle of Athosian ale to Carson's collection of booty.
"We should call him. What we've got here would be a lovely dinner. Perhaps we could eat it out on the balcony."
"There's no meat."
"Ye don't need meat with every meal," Carson chided. "You Americans could do with learning that."
"Hey! I need the energy from all that running around we did." John grinned. "Not to mention certain other things..."
Carson chuckled and slipped his arms around John's waist, leaning up to kiss him. "You could do with a bit of fattening up."
The door to the apartment slid open and they broke apart, just in case. Rodney walked in, looking lost in thought and caught sight of them pulling away from each other. "Oh. You're home."
"Aye, love. We were just about to call you."
"Oh. Of course you were." Rodney winced as he started pulling off his jacket.
"Are you all right?" Carson asked.
"My back and shoulders are killing me," Rodney said. "Radek threatened to call the infirmary, so I came home."
"Maybe a hot shower would help," John suggested. He bounced on the soles of his feet. "We could take one together."
Rodney grimaced. "I don't think so."
"Yeah, okay." John tried to hide his disappointment. Rodney didn't do the whole hot shower sex thing. It was one of the misfortunes of having a claustrophobic lover.
"Go wash up, love," Carson said. "John and I will get dinner together. We have something to discuss with you."
Rodney's face took on a peculiarly vulnerable look. "Oh. Uh. Sure." He looked away from them. "I'll... just go..."
John and Carson exchanged mystified looks as their lover walked into the bathroom.
"What the hell was that about?" John asked.
"I don't know." Carson bit his lip. "Maybe we need to give our Rodney a wee bit more attention."
John shrugged. "He'll get over it."
Carson gazed at the closed bathroom door. "You're probably right, love. Come on, let's get these things washed and cut up."
They spent the next few minutes working in tandem, their movements almost choreographed. As Carson finished placing the bread and cheese on a tray, John slipped behind him and wrapped his arms around him.
"This okay?" he asked.
Carson leaned back into him and John took that as a sign, pulling him closer. "It's okay for now, love."
John bent down and kissed Carson's shoulder. "I hope he's okay with this. I really want to do this for you-- for us."
"Do what?" Rodney asked.
They glanced up to see their lover standing in the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist, hair sticking up in spikes. He still looked tense and unhappy and John wondered if Carson was right. "We should have dinner first," John suggested.
Carson held out his hand to Rodney, John's wrist band dark against his skin. "Come on, love. I was thinking we could eat out of the balcony. The weather's lovely for it and it'll probably be the last time for a while, what with the cold season coming in."
Rodney nodded, looking oddly fragile. "Yeah. Cold season. I'll, uh, just get dressed."
"'Kay," John said. "We'll take these out to the balcony."
They set up outside quickly, John glancing around to be sure no one else was out and about where the three of them could be seen.
Rodney emerged a moment later wearing a soft, worn pair of jeans and a slate-grey tee shirt over a long-sleeved charcoal-coloured one. Carson pulled Rodney to a chaise and sat him down, then curled into his arms.
"Oh, I see how it is," John teased. "The two of you snuggle while I play waiter."
"You need to keep moving," Carson answered, grinning. "For warmth."
John stuck his tongue out.
"You two sure are in a good mood tonight," Rodney said.
"Aye," Carson said. "It was almost perfect. Lovely weather. No major health problems."
"Great sex," John added, grinning.
Carson chuckled. "That, too." He took Rodney's hand and pulled it to his lips, giving it a warm kiss. "Thank you for getting me past a lot of my problems, love."
"And then," John said, sitting down on the chaise next to theirs and facing them, "Halling talked to us about a... well, a 'bonding ceremony.'"
Rodney went tense. Even John could see it. Damn. And he'd so hoped Rodney would at least listen. "A bonding ceremony?"
John tried to argue the pros before Rodney rejected it outright. "Yeah. It would be almost like a marriage ceremony, but this would be for us-- a private thing."
"Are you crazy? It would ruin your career."
"The Athosians understand they can't talk about it to other Atlanteans," John argued.
"So that makes it okay? We've snuck around for over a year just for you and you're suddenly okay with a bunch of-of-of people you barely know keeping your secret?"
"Look, Rodney. I know you've had some issues with the whole secrecy thing, but we were doing okay until, well, until the rape. That changed things."
"I can see that." Rodney sat up and roughly pushed Carson aside, spilling him out of the chaise and then jerking to his feet. "I'll just get dinner in the cafeteria and leave you two to your plans and your 'great sex' and everything."
"Rodney!" John and Carson both reacted.
Rodney didn't even turn around, quickly walking inside.
"Are you all right?" John asked.
Carson nodded, getting up slowly and brushing himself off, eyes full of hurt. "Go talk to him, love."
"Yeah. Okay." John found his lover viciously tying his shoelaces, as if trying to take a world of frustration out on them.
"What do you want?" Rodney snapped.
"I want to know what the hell your problem is. Carson looks like he's practically on the verge of tears."
"Yeah, well, sorry."
"Sorry? All you're going to say is sorry?" John demanded, his anger rising.
"Yes! I'm sure you can comfort him just fine. Lend him your hair gel or give him another pair of wrist bands and I'm sure everything will be perfect."
John gaped. "What?!"
Rodney hit the door panel hard-- the closest you could come to slamming doors in Atlantis. "You heard me, Colonel. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to get to the cafeteria before they run out of blue Jell-O for the night."
John stood and stared at the door long after Rodney had left through it, his thoughts in turmoil, his guts twisting.
"John?" Carson called from the balcony doorway.
John turned, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't... What did we do?"
***
Carson awoke to John curled next to him, breath puffing gently against Carson's cheek. The bed on either side of them was empty. No light snores filled the bedroom. Carson felt his heart clench. Rodney hadn't come home.
He carefully slipped from the bed and padded into the bedroom that Rodney used as an office. The bed was still made. Carson slumped down onto the mattress, hand sliding over the soft blanket. He lay down and inhaled. While Rodney didn't sleep here often anymore, he did occasionally make use of the bed for naps or to lie out and work. Carson could make out the lingering scent of him.
Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered the shock of Rodney pushing him away and heedlessly dumping him onto the balcony floor. He'd thought things had been going so well. How hadn't he seen?
"Carson?" John's voice called.
"In Rodney's room," he answered, trying to get his voice under control.
He lay in his misery, listening to John pad across the floor. The bed dipped and John's hand smoothed across his back. "Hey. What's wrong?"
"He didn't come back last night. We've lost him, John, and I didn't even see... I didn't know..."
"Hey, no! We haven't lost him. He's just being an asshole. We'll get it straightened out."
"How could I not know?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself," John soothed. "You were dealing with your own problems. But we'll fix it. Okay?"
Carson angrily wiped at his eyes. "I feel like such an idiot!"
John lay down beside him and gathered him into his arms. "Shhhh... It's okay... It's okay..."
"God! I thought it was getting better. I was finally feeling human once in a while and now... Now... Oh, John!"
John's hand petted through his hair. "It is getting better. It is! It'll work out. You'll see."
"I don't think I could live..."
"Don't say that. Please, don't say that," John begged, holding him tight.
***
John lay, holding Carson's sleeping form, feeling completely wrung out and exhausted. Very few things frightened John Sheppard, but the anguish and misery and resignation he'd heard in Carson's voice terrified him.
There was a knock at the apartment door. John untangled himself and slipped quietly out to answer it.
Major Lorne stood outside. His eyes quickly flicked down and John followed his glance, taking in the wet blotches where Carson's tears had soaked into his shirt and the wrinkling where Carson had fisted the material, holding on as if for dear life. Lorne's eyes lifted back to John's, his expression blank and professional.
"Sir. Doctor Weir needs your team to assemble for an off-world mission to MX3-775 as soon as possible."
"What's going on, Major?" John asked.
"We arrived there as usual this morning for our weekly trade meeting and found the planet culled, sir. Doctor Weir would like a thorough search for survivors conducted. She tried to contact you via radio, but apparently you didn't have your headset nearby."
John nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry about that. Thank you, Major. I'll be there shortly."
***
"Good morning, Colonel Sheppard. I hope everything is well with you," Teyla greeted as John walked into the gate room.
"Given that another of our trade allies has been culled," John said, securing his tac vest, "well, things could be a lot better."
She watched as his eyes flicked to where Rodney and Ronon were both entering, noting a sudden tension in his body where usually there was a certain elation evident in his bearing and face on seeing Rodney.
"Sheppard," Rodney greeted, the two syllables holding a certain bite they usually didn't. "Teyla."
"Are you well this morning, Doctor McKay?" she asked.
Rodney huffed. "Hardly. My back is killing me."
John glared at him. "With that expensive prescription mattress? That hardly seems reasonable."
Rodney gaped at him, but fell silent.
"All right, everyone," Elizabeth said. "MX3-775 is a trade ally of ours. When Major Lorne's team paid them a visit this morning, they found the planet had been culled. We're looking-- hoping-- for survivors. Be careful and good luck."
Ronon reached out and adjusted a couple of straps on Rodney's tac vest.
"Thanks."
Ronon's eyes flickered to John and back. "No problem."
***
It was a sight that was all too depressingly common-- smoke rising from the town not far from the stargate, an unnatural stillness, no one left.
"Okay, Yamato, St. Claire, you're on the gate. Major, you're with Parrish. Arnaud and Alvarez, you're together. McKay, you're with m- mmmmm... Teyla." He'd almost said "me," forgetting his anger at Rodney in the routine, before correcting himself to hum instead. "Ronon, you're with me. Head out." He didn't give instructions about keeping in visual range or checking in frequently. They'd done this enough they all knew the routine.
He and Ronon headed toward the town, leaving the other teams to check the periphery. They walked in silence, alert for danger.
Just outside town, they encountered their first set of bodies-- three wizened corpses, colourful clothes gaily flapping in the wind in a sick parody of life.
"So, you and McKay fighting?" Ronon asked as he bent to close the corpses' staring eyes.
John considered the question for a moment, then concluded he might as well be honest. Ronon pretty much knew about his relationships anyway. "Kind of." John picked up a small rag doll and placed it on the chest of the small corpse that had probably been a lively little girl only the day before and wondered how this kind of death had become so normal that he could hold a conversation while looking upon it. "I'm just really pissed at him right now."
They walked on, pausing by another corpse. "How come?"
"He said some things last night. And then left and didn't come home-- Here's another one-- so Carson's really upset."
Ronon grunted.
A shot rang out.
"What the hell was that?" John demanded over his radio as he and Ronon both turned, weapons at the ready.
"That was Parrish," Lorne's voice reported. "He found a survivor barely alive... a little one."
John shivered and closed his eyes. He'd watched Parrish put someone out of his misery before. It wasn't something a botanist should ever have to do. "Okay. Just warn me next time," he snapped.
"Sorry, Colonel," Parrish's voice said.
Something brushed John's leg and he jumped, aiming downward only to take in the figure of a small cat, a colourful braided collar around its neck. They were remarkably similar to the Earth species, though their coat colours were significantly different. This was what John thought of as a reverse Siamese-- slender, with bright blue eyes not unlike Rodney's or Carson's in colour, with a chocolate brown coat except on its muzzle, ears, feet, and tail tip, where the colour faded to cream.
"Hello there," John greeted, leaning down and extending a hand to the creature. "Where did you come from?"
The cat sniffed his fingers and then rubbed its head against them, purring loudly.
"Looks about half-grown," Ronon said.
John picked up the cat and pet it. "Did any of your people make it, kitty?"
The cat purred like a well-oiled engine and blinked up at him.
"I bet Rodney'd like you," John murmured, resuming his walk toward the town.
"Colonel Sheppard, we have found a downed wraith dart," Teyla's voice reported.
"There may be people caught in the transport buffer that we could get out," Rodney said over the radio. "I need to investigate if it's intact."
"Is the pilot visible?" John asked, setting the cat down and changing direction to where he knew Rodney and Teyla were.
"No, he is not," Teyla answered.
"Okay, wait for backup, then. I can see you now."
John watched as Teyla and Rodney stood back from the dart, Rodney impatiently shuffling while waiting for them. Beyond them, Lorne, Parrish, Arnaud and Alvarez were also headed toward them.
He eyed the pieces of dart that could be seen in the tall grass. It didn't look promising.
As soon as John and Ronon came up to him, Rodney nodded and headed for the dart, eyes on the beaming apparatus.
Suddenly, a figure rose from the grass, hand shooting out to grab the scientist's throat.
"Rodney!" John screamed.
AN: Incalzando is a musical term meaning "growing in intensity and fervor"
Next part
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett, Lorne, Emmagan, Dex, Weir, Parrish
Relationships: Beckett/McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13, though the series as a whole is NC-17
Warnings: Mention of non-con, major character whumpage, violence, language, cliffhanger.
Spoilers: None this part
Summary: They had rescued him, but they had yet to truly bring him safely home. Part of the Aleatoric Life series.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
As they expected, the apartment was empty when John and Carson entered.
"Do you suppose he's had dinner?" Carson asked, setting down the fresh fruit and vegetables and the small wheel of soft herbed cheese the Athosians had given him in thanks for his services.
John snorted. "Rodney? Not likely." John added two loaves of bread, some sweet flatbread, and a bottle of Athosian ale to Carson's collection of booty.
"We should call him. What we've got here would be a lovely dinner. Perhaps we could eat it out on the balcony."
"There's no meat."
"Ye don't need meat with every meal," Carson chided. "You Americans could do with learning that."
"Hey! I need the energy from all that running around we did." John grinned. "Not to mention certain other things..."
Carson chuckled and slipped his arms around John's waist, leaning up to kiss him. "You could do with a bit of fattening up."
The door to the apartment slid open and they broke apart, just in case. Rodney walked in, looking lost in thought and caught sight of them pulling away from each other. "Oh. You're home."
"Aye, love. We were just about to call you."
"Oh. Of course you were." Rodney winced as he started pulling off his jacket.
"Are you all right?" Carson asked.
"My back and shoulders are killing me," Rodney said. "Radek threatened to call the infirmary, so I came home."
"Maybe a hot shower would help," John suggested. He bounced on the soles of his feet. "We could take one together."
Rodney grimaced. "I don't think so."
"Yeah, okay." John tried to hide his disappointment. Rodney didn't do the whole hot shower sex thing. It was one of the misfortunes of having a claustrophobic lover.
"Go wash up, love," Carson said. "John and I will get dinner together. We have something to discuss with you."
Rodney's face took on a peculiarly vulnerable look. "Oh. Uh. Sure." He looked away from them. "I'll... just go..."
John and Carson exchanged mystified looks as their lover walked into the bathroom.
"What the hell was that about?" John asked.
"I don't know." Carson bit his lip. "Maybe we need to give our Rodney a wee bit more attention."
John shrugged. "He'll get over it."
Carson gazed at the closed bathroom door. "You're probably right, love. Come on, let's get these things washed and cut up."
They spent the next few minutes working in tandem, their movements almost choreographed. As Carson finished placing the bread and cheese on a tray, John slipped behind him and wrapped his arms around him.
"This okay?" he asked.
Carson leaned back into him and John took that as a sign, pulling him closer. "It's okay for now, love."
John bent down and kissed Carson's shoulder. "I hope he's okay with this. I really want to do this for you-- for us."
"Do what?" Rodney asked.
They glanced up to see their lover standing in the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist, hair sticking up in spikes. He still looked tense and unhappy and John wondered if Carson was right. "We should have dinner first," John suggested.
Carson held out his hand to Rodney, John's wrist band dark against his skin. "Come on, love. I was thinking we could eat out of the balcony. The weather's lovely for it and it'll probably be the last time for a while, what with the cold season coming in."
Rodney nodded, looking oddly fragile. "Yeah. Cold season. I'll, uh, just get dressed."
"'Kay," John said. "We'll take these out to the balcony."
They set up outside quickly, John glancing around to be sure no one else was out and about where the three of them could be seen.
Rodney emerged a moment later wearing a soft, worn pair of jeans and a slate-grey tee shirt over a long-sleeved charcoal-coloured one. Carson pulled Rodney to a chaise and sat him down, then curled into his arms.
"Oh, I see how it is," John teased. "The two of you snuggle while I play waiter."
"You need to keep moving," Carson answered, grinning. "For warmth."
John stuck his tongue out.
"You two sure are in a good mood tonight," Rodney said.
"Aye," Carson said. "It was almost perfect. Lovely weather. No major health problems."
"Great sex," John added, grinning.
Carson chuckled. "That, too." He took Rodney's hand and pulled it to his lips, giving it a warm kiss. "Thank you for getting me past a lot of my problems, love."
"And then," John said, sitting down on the chaise next to theirs and facing them, "Halling talked to us about a... well, a 'bonding ceremony.'"
Rodney went tense. Even John could see it. Damn. And he'd so hoped Rodney would at least listen. "A bonding ceremony?"
John tried to argue the pros before Rodney rejected it outright. "Yeah. It would be almost like a marriage ceremony, but this would be for us-- a private thing."
"Are you crazy? It would ruin your career."
"The Athosians understand they can't talk about it to other Atlanteans," John argued.
"So that makes it okay? We've snuck around for over a year just for you and you're suddenly okay with a bunch of-of-of people you barely know keeping your secret?"
"Look, Rodney. I know you've had some issues with the whole secrecy thing, but we were doing okay until, well, until the rape. That changed things."
"I can see that." Rodney sat up and roughly pushed Carson aside, spilling him out of the chaise and then jerking to his feet. "I'll just get dinner in the cafeteria and leave you two to your plans and your 'great sex' and everything."
"Rodney!" John and Carson both reacted.
Rodney didn't even turn around, quickly walking inside.
"Are you all right?" John asked.
Carson nodded, getting up slowly and brushing himself off, eyes full of hurt. "Go talk to him, love."
"Yeah. Okay." John found his lover viciously tying his shoelaces, as if trying to take a world of frustration out on them.
"What do you want?" Rodney snapped.
"I want to know what the hell your problem is. Carson looks like he's practically on the verge of tears."
"Yeah, well, sorry."
"Sorry? All you're going to say is sorry?" John demanded, his anger rising.
"Yes! I'm sure you can comfort him just fine. Lend him your hair gel or give him another pair of wrist bands and I'm sure everything will be perfect."
John gaped. "What?!"
Rodney hit the door panel hard-- the closest you could come to slamming doors in Atlantis. "You heard me, Colonel. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to get to the cafeteria before they run out of blue Jell-O for the night."
John stood and stared at the door long after Rodney had left through it, his thoughts in turmoil, his guts twisting.
"John?" Carson called from the balcony doorway.
John turned, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't... What did we do?"
***
Carson awoke to John curled next to him, breath puffing gently against Carson's cheek. The bed on either side of them was empty. No light snores filled the bedroom. Carson felt his heart clench. Rodney hadn't come home.
He carefully slipped from the bed and padded into the bedroom that Rodney used as an office. The bed was still made. Carson slumped down onto the mattress, hand sliding over the soft blanket. He lay down and inhaled. While Rodney didn't sleep here often anymore, he did occasionally make use of the bed for naps or to lie out and work. Carson could make out the lingering scent of him.
Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered the shock of Rodney pushing him away and heedlessly dumping him onto the balcony floor. He'd thought things had been going so well. How hadn't he seen?
"Carson?" John's voice called.
"In Rodney's room," he answered, trying to get his voice under control.
He lay in his misery, listening to John pad across the floor. The bed dipped and John's hand smoothed across his back. "Hey. What's wrong?"
"He didn't come back last night. We've lost him, John, and I didn't even see... I didn't know..."
"Hey, no! We haven't lost him. He's just being an asshole. We'll get it straightened out."
"How could I not know?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself," John soothed. "You were dealing with your own problems. But we'll fix it. Okay?"
Carson angrily wiped at his eyes. "I feel like such an idiot!"
John lay down beside him and gathered him into his arms. "Shhhh... It's okay... It's okay..."
"God! I thought it was getting better. I was finally feeling human once in a while and now... Now... Oh, John!"
John's hand petted through his hair. "It is getting better. It is! It'll work out. You'll see."
"I don't think I could live..."
"Don't say that. Please, don't say that," John begged, holding him tight.
***
John lay, holding Carson's sleeping form, feeling completely wrung out and exhausted. Very few things frightened John Sheppard, but the anguish and misery and resignation he'd heard in Carson's voice terrified him.
There was a knock at the apartment door. John untangled himself and slipped quietly out to answer it.
Major Lorne stood outside. His eyes quickly flicked down and John followed his glance, taking in the wet blotches where Carson's tears had soaked into his shirt and the wrinkling where Carson had fisted the material, holding on as if for dear life. Lorne's eyes lifted back to John's, his expression blank and professional.
"Sir. Doctor Weir needs your team to assemble for an off-world mission to MX3-775 as soon as possible."
"What's going on, Major?" John asked.
"We arrived there as usual this morning for our weekly trade meeting and found the planet culled, sir. Doctor Weir would like a thorough search for survivors conducted. She tried to contact you via radio, but apparently you didn't have your headset nearby."
John nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry about that. Thank you, Major. I'll be there shortly."
***
"Good morning, Colonel Sheppard. I hope everything is well with you," Teyla greeted as John walked into the gate room.
"Given that another of our trade allies has been culled," John said, securing his tac vest, "well, things could be a lot better."
She watched as his eyes flicked to where Rodney and Ronon were both entering, noting a sudden tension in his body where usually there was a certain elation evident in his bearing and face on seeing Rodney.
"Sheppard," Rodney greeted, the two syllables holding a certain bite they usually didn't. "Teyla."
"Are you well this morning, Doctor McKay?" she asked.
Rodney huffed. "Hardly. My back is killing me."
John glared at him. "With that expensive prescription mattress? That hardly seems reasonable."
Rodney gaped at him, but fell silent.
"All right, everyone," Elizabeth said. "MX3-775 is a trade ally of ours. When Major Lorne's team paid them a visit this morning, they found the planet had been culled. We're looking-- hoping-- for survivors. Be careful and good luck."
Ronon reached out and adjusted a couple of straps on Rodney's tac vest.
"Thanks."
Ronon's eyes flickered to John and back. "No problem."
***
It was a sight that was all too depressingly common-- smoke rising from the town not far from the stargate, an unnatural stillness, no one left.
"Okay, Yamato, St. Claire, you're on the gate. Major, you're with Parrish. Arnaud and Alvarez, you're together. McKay, you're with m- mmmmm... Teyla." He'd almost said "me," forgetting his anger at Rodney in the routine, before correcting himself to hum instead. "Ronon, you're with me. Head out." He didn't give instructions about keeping in visual range or checking in frequently. They'd done this enough they all knew the routine.
He and Ronon headed toward the town, leaving the other teams to check the periphery. They walked in silence, alert for danger.
Just outside town, they encountered their first set of bodies-- three wizened corpses, colourful clothes gaily flapping in the wind in a sick parody of life.
"So, you and McKay fighting?" Ronon asked as he bent to close the corpses' staring eyes.
John considered the question for a moment, then concluded he might as well be honest. Ronon pretty much knew about his relationships anyway. "Kind of." John picked up a small rag doll and placed it on the chest of the small corpse that had probably been a lively little girl only the day before and wondered how this kind of death had become so normal that he could hold a conversation while looking upon it. "I'm just really pissed at him right now."
They walked on, pausing by another corpse. "How come?"
"He said some things last night. And then left and didn't come home-- Here's another one-- so Carson's really upset."
Ronon grunted.
A shot rang out.
"What the hell was that?" John demanded over his radio as he and Ronon both turned, weapons at the ready.
"That was Parrish," Lorne's voice reported. "He found a survivor barely alive... a little one."
John shivered and closed his eyes. He'd watched Parrish put someone out of his misery before. It wasn't something a botanist should ever have to do. "Okay. Just warn me next time," he snapped.
"Sorry, Colonel," Parrish's voice said.
Something brushed John's leg and he jumped, aiming downward only to take in the figure of a small cat, a colourful braided collar around its neck. They were remarkably similar to the Earth species, though their coat colours were significantly different. This was what John thought of as a reverse Siamese-- slender, with bright blue eyes not unlike Rodney's or Carson's in colour, with a chocolate brown coat except on its muzzle, ears, feet, and tail tip, where the colour faded to cream.
"Hello there," John greeted, leaning down and extending a hand to the creature. "Where did you come from?"
The cat sniffed his fingers and then rubbed its head against them, purring loudly.
"Looks about half-grown," Ronon said.
John picked up the cat and pet it. "Did any of your people make it, kitty?"
The cat purred like a well-oiled engine and blinked up at him.
"I bet Rodney'd like you," John murmured, resuming his walk toward the town.
"Colonel Sheppard, we have found a downed wraith dart," Teyla's voice reported.
"There may be people caught in the transport buffer that we could get out," Rodney said over the radio. "I need to investigate if it's intact."
"Is the pilot visible?" John asked, setting the cat down and changing direction to where he knew Rodney and Teyla were.
"No, he is not," Teyla answered.
"Okay, wait for backup, then. I can see you now."
John watched as Teyla and Rodney stood back from the dart, Rodney impatiently shuffling while waiting for them. Beyond them, Lorne, Parrish, Arnaud and Alvarez were also headed toward them.
He eyed the pieces of dart that could be seen in the tall grass. It didn't look promising.
As soon as John and Ronon came up to him, Rodney nodded and headed for the dart, eyes on the beaming apparatus.
Suddenly, a figure rose from the grass, hand shooting out to grab the scientist's throat.
"Rodney!" John screamed.
AN: Incalzando is a musical term meaning "growing in intensity and fervor"
Next part