Episode AU: Identity Crisis (the John Sheppard does not do damsel in distress remix)
Title: Identity Crisis
Author: Tzzzz
Rating: PG13
Characters: Rodney, John, Carson, Woolsey, Teyla, Ronon, Radek, Neeva.
Pairing: John/Rodney
Episode: 5.18 Identity
Word Count: 15,900
Spoilers: Identity, Brain Storm, the Shrine and Infection.
Summary: What if Neeva had traded bodies with John instead of Jennifer? (Actually, what if John had just flat out been the Keller in all the McKeller storylines this season? Wait, that would make just plain old McShep)
Author's Notes: I guess this is the episode I would have liked to have seen. I'm tempted to rewrite Brain Storm and the Shrine too, just to make everything better. It's not that I dislike Keller and I think she and Rodney are cute together, it's just that she brings out bad writing like nothing else. This is my attempt to show the episode we could have had, if TBTB wrote with their heads and not with their hard ons. Thanks to dossier for the speedy and awesome beta.
Identity Crisis
Jannick and Bordal aren't the smartest gen-gals in the turnpin, but at least they're damn good at what they do. Neeva looks down at the smooth stone in her hand, grinning to herself. No, her associates wouldn't even think to match them to the Ancestor's device sitting like a treasure chest in front of them.
She doesn't have much time; this village is actually well-guarded, it's people healthy and somewhat technologically advanced. She suspects that they haven't faced a culling in some time. Lucky them. Neeva's been to a lot of planets and seen a lot of desperate people, was one herself before her current life of crime. It's not honorable, but it beats moping about a civilization that no longer exists.
She places the stone into its slot, hoping for treasure, but finds herself in a different place altogether. She's surprised and confused and scared all at the same time and she can barely stop herself from shaking. She's come across devices of the Ancestors that do some amazing things (she wouldn't be stealing them otherwise) but never anything like this. But she can deal, the same way she always deals - quick on her feet, a lie already waiting on her tongue. Better here than back in the artifact room with the villagers closing in.
There are people talking at the end of a long corridor, wearing matching outfits in bright colors like perfect little Utopians. She remembers the island colonies on Gen-gesh, before the Wraith. Everyone equal, no stealing, no fighting, all the same, as though improving society mattered at all when lived at the mercy of predators. Maybe these people will be the same - idealistic. In a city like this, with its pristine metal walls and dull lighting, there must be plenty of treasure to be had.
She takes a slow step forward, stumbling as her feet come out of her boots. She looks down to find that she's wearing a really ugly pair of pants, with way too many pockets, though they are all black, just the way she likes it. Her boots aren't fully tied, the laces just tucked lazily into the side. She bends down to tie them but an uncomfortable pull on her thigh and a twinge in her knee stops her. The pull turns out to be a holster with a weapon attached - perfect. The ache in her knee is simply unexplainable and unexpected. Also, she wonders why she isn't wearing something that shows off more of her cleavage. She unbuttons the first three buttons of her top and rolls down her sleeves so they look less ridiculous, then laces up her boots.
Now, she just has to figure out where she is and then pray to all the gods she no longer believes in to lead her out of here. She's been in worse situations before, like when that fish merchant inVersall almost chopped Jannick's head off.
She notices a room off to the right and ducks into it. There are machines and terminals all over the place and the lights brighten automatically when she enters. She recognizes it from some of the Ancestor's facilities that they've robbed. She also recognizes the flat tablet screens from several market trips already. They fetch a hefty price with the Genii, and that large screen with the diagram on it, she's sure something like that is worth even more.
She's so busy studying it that she doesn't notice someone else come in. He's short, dressed in the same bright blue garb as the other Utopians and messy-haired, like he hasn't bothered to groom himself in a while. She steps back, hand going to the weapon and hoping it fires like she's expecting, but the man just smiles at her, moving to put down a tray of food.
"Huh, it didn't know anybody was in here. You looking for Rodney? 'Cause I saw him in the Mess Hall." He stops to examine her and Neeva takes a step backwards. He must be on to her, but instead he says, "this is new look for you. What with the," he gestures at her cleavage, making her grin, "chest hair."
Neeva looks down, alarmed, but her breasts are still there, pert and hairless as ever.
"If this is some new thing to emphasize your manliness, Colonel, trust me, you are man enough for Rodney."
"Rodney?"
The man rolls his eyes. "Yes, Rodney. What other loud, annoying arrogant scientist whom you are secretly dating would I be talking about?" He catches her bewildered look and sighs. "Was I not supposed to tell you I know? He's not exactly subtle, and ever since the two of you returned from that conference in Arizona, I've noticed change. Must thank you, actually. He has been almost pleasant, in his own way. Actually complemented Miko's work. I thought she might cry from joy. Happiness is a good look on him. But don't tell him I told you so."
"Okay," she agrees. Not that she knows any Rodney. She's even more confused now, because this man is speaking as though she's someone familiar, someone he recognizes and is clearly close to, despite the fact that she's wearing a gun in a Utopian colony.
"You all right?"
"Yeah," she replies, cursing herself for not pulling together more. Normally, she'd find it easy to trick her way out of it. The lie perched on her tongue is just out of reach. She doesn't know who he thinks she is, and she can't think how to fake it. She's never had the situation so completely turned around on her before.
"You just seem a little confused. I know that sounds strange, but, no, wait-- Rodney mentioned something about your last mission with Todd. You had a concussion. Are you ill? I think maybe you should see Keller."
"No. No, no, no, I just, uh. I don't. Where am I?"
"You're in one of our auxiliary labs. East pier level four. I really think you need to see Keller, Colonel. I know you have high threshold for pain. I've heard Rodney complain about it enough. But if you have complications from concussion and don't go, both you and I will never hear end of it."
"It's okay. Just a little twinge in my knee. Nothing a little ice won't fix."
"In your knee? Why don't you just sit down and I'll radio Rodney and--"
"No, no, you don't need to do that."
"I know, you don't want him to worry, but you are actually worrying me." He pulls up a stool. "Sit."
Neeva sits. Her knee really does hurt. But this man doesn't seem particularly threatening. "Please don't call, um, Rodney."
He shakes his head. "I will regret this later, I am sure. I'm going to radio Keller."
What in the Ancestor's name is radio, Neeva wonders.
The funny little man taps at his messy hair and speaks. "Zelenka to infirmary. Hello, Dr. Keller, I have--"
He doesn't have a chance to finish because Neeva draws her gun, happy that it shoots exactly the way it's supposed to.
It's only after the little man has, regrettably, sunk to the floor that Neeva gets a good look at her reflection, or rather someone else's. The chest hair comment makes sense now. She reaches out to touch it and doesn't feel anything but her own familiar skin beneath her palm. Her hair is long and hanging around her shoulders, not short and messy like she's just suffered a wind storm. She runs her hand over a smooth cheek that is clearly covered with stubble in the mirror and whispers, "Wraith-cursed me, what is going on here?"
@@@
Neeva hadn't lingered long. Someone must have heard the shot and she needed to be somewhere else when they came to investigate. In the back of her mind, she hopes that the man will be okay. He had been kind to her, after all, even if he thought she was someone else - a man, apparently. She still can't quite get over that, wondering if she'll be stronger. Her step feels light, her balance maybe a little off, and the twinge in her knee must mean that she's linked to the body everyone sees somehow, even if she can't feel all of the effects of it.
She does her best not to make eye contact with anyone or to attract attention to herself, but almost every soldier she meets nods stiffly as she passes. Some of the Utopians too, especially the female ones. Not that Neeva blames them. Whoever this man is, she certainly wouldn't toss him from her bed. She might even trade Jannick and Bordal for one of him.
After a labyrinthine mass of corridors, she finally makes it to an outside door. The city is even more massive and beautiful than she imagined. It's clearly built by the Ancestors, with its towering buildings and mix of glass and superfluous architectural adornments. It reeks of a luxury that even the people of Gen-gesh had not bothered to hope for, surrounded by a sparkling blue sea and a perfect clear sky. There must be so much here. Maybe she can use this awful, confusing problem to her advantage. She just has to find a way to get out first. Once she has that, she can start think about what to bring with her.
She contemplates ridding herself of the weapon, but she would look more conspicuous without it. And besides, she might need it later.
"There you are!" An exasperated voice startles her again. "What happened to lunch? And don't tell me paperwork, because I know for sure that M3Z-887 and that upside-down yoga chicken dance must have won us the most embarrassing mission of the month pool again, so Lorne's doing it. Did Conan the barbarian smash your radio in training again? I called, like a thousand times."
The man snaps his fingers at her.
"Um, er."
"Very articulate, Sheppard. No wonder Woolsey always looks like he wants to drag you off for etiquette lessons. Now, earpiece? This day please."
Neeva has no idea what he's talking about, but she recognizes the withering look in his eyes when he leans forward to grab at her.
"Sorry, sorry," he whispers when she pushes him away. "We're in public, I know. Just give me the stupid earwig." It's becoming obvious why this Colonel person would want to be in a secret relationship with this man. He probably has a bunch of other "secret" things going as well.
She reaches up to where he was grabbing pulling off a strange black piece of jewelry that the man -Rodney, she assumes- snatches from her eagerly. "Doesn't look damaged. I'll take it back to my lab and check the battery. But first, it's Schnitzel Day, and I saved a plate for you, but left it in Ronon's care. I'm not sure how long Teyla can hold him off. Seriously, John, what happened?"
"I forgot?"
Rodney rolls his eyes. "We've had lunch together everyday, with or without the team, for more than four years. And you haven't missed one since we--" he blushes, looking hurt. "You know." Neeva would almost feel sorry for this man, panting after a guy who is way, way out of his league. Except he's also kind of a jerk, so she doesn't.
"Sorry," she replies, trying to avoid another one of the soldiers nodding at her.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"I promise I'm not going to make you talk about your feelings, just, you seem really distracted today."
"It's my knee," she replies, remembering the earlier conversation. "Concussion's just acting up a little. I talked to--" What was the name? "Dr. Keller. She said I'm fine." She smiles at him, figuring that even in this body she should be able to work her charm. Rodney is obviously already pretty well charmed anyhow.
But instead his face hardens and his jaw sticks out. "A concussion in your knee? Sorry, Colonel, but I've long since become fluent in Sheppardeese and mentioning any medical problem in conjunction with 'I'm fine' does not mean fine at all."
He taps his ear jewelry - some kind of communication device, she expects, like the little man used to call the doctors. The only problem is that this time they're in a crowded hallway. She can't just shoot him. "Jennifer?" he frowns. "Well where is she?" The frown deepens. "He's right here. That's why I called." Panic and hurt flash briefly in his eyes. Ancestors, this man is an open book. He'll be the perfect mark. "We're on our way."
"It's Radek. He's been shot. They've been trying to call you. Come on. You can get checked out while we wait on him."
Next thing she knows, he's running off and she has no choice but to follow.
@@@
Neeva is happy to know that the man she shot is being taken care of, and even happier to know that he won't regain consciousness for a while. What she isn't happy about is being poked and prodded by the man with the funny accent (who according to Rodney likes to visit a brothel full of a people called "sheep").
"Is this really necessary?" she asks, practically shaking with fear as they make her lie down under a big device that's supposed to "scan" her body. She's positive they'll find out, but the first thing they did was make her take her weapon off.
"Oh, Aye, John. Though it is only your brain."
He and Rodney exchange a look she can't decipher. "Not that he needs it really. So long as the part of the brain in charge of suicide missions is intact, he'll be perfectly happy."
Neeva doesn't know what to say to that. And she's shocked when she sits up to find Rodney standing over her, his eyes shining with concern. "John," he whispers, reaching out to touch her.
"So you two finally got over yourselves then?" Carson asks. "Are congratulations in order?"
"Shhh!" Rodney hisses. "Do you want him to get a court martial?"
"Sorry." Carson is really grinning now. "It's just that it's about bloody time. Now, I don't see anything on your scan. A few fading bruises and that cartilage problem we talked about last time I was here. Remember that treatment I told you they're working on back at the SGC? Since it's based on Ancient tech, you'd probably skew the trial group, but it's more likely to work if that's the case. I would have thought Dr. Keller would have ordered a course the second you talked to her about it."
"Like he'd talk to Jennifer about anything," Rodney huffs, "Why do you think he gets you to do all his standard physicals when you're around? He doesn't like her. I know she threatened to 'play with your insides, Colonel." He glares at her, "But she's a nice girl."
Neeva just lets the ranting wash over her. She hasn't been here long, but she's starting to get that this 'John' guy isn't exactly expected to pay attention. Though she definitely pays attention when the doctor asks her to pull her shirt off. She knows that all they're seeing is a narrow, hairy chest, but she feels awkward sitting in a room full of people with her breasts just hanging out. Then again, judging by the hungry look in Rodney's eyes, maybe she might as well be.
She's surprised to find several yellowing marks spreading across her chest and flanks. She can't feel them at all. "Sparring?" Carson asks.
"Try crash-landing a hive ship," Rodney grumbles. Neeva shudders, passing if off as a wince from the doctor's touch. These people crashed a hive ship? They're obviously not people she wants to mess with. "Sheppard's BFF, Todd, and an infection thanks to Jennifer's modification of the retrovirus."
Carson frowns.
"You should have been there," Rodney adds. "You might have saved the two of us a few bruises."
"No, Rodney. I shouldn't have. That virus does nothing but hurt people and has done from the start."
"Don't forget Wraith. It also hurts Wraith," Rodney adds. Neeva is impressed in spite of herself and she feels even worse for shooting one of these people. If the Utopians are truly battling the Wraith then maybe she should just leave them to it - let them have their battle while she fights her own. Sure, she only fights to survive. It's not noble, but its necessary. Her hope of fighting the Wraith died with Gen-gesh.
"Well, nothing to worry about here," the doctor says. "Just let me check the knee."
She pulls off her pants, feeling stupid wearing nothing but socks and a pair of shorts (that he wears under pants? What is wrong with this man?). She's surprised to find her knee already wrapped in some kind of flesh-colored bandage.
"Self-doctoring, I see," Carson tsks. He unwraps the bandage and flexes the knee, poking and prodding and making her wince before retrieving a complicated black brace that seems to cover half her leg. "Might as well bring out the big guns, since I know there's no bloody way you'll agree to stay off it."
"Oh, he'll agree," Rodney gripes. "He just won't do it." It's hard to take the man seriously, however, when he's looking at Neeva like she's a hundred festival days and the great citadel of Ancestor's treasure all wrapped up into one.
@@@
The new knee brace and the amazing little pills that the doctor gave her make the situation at least a little more bearable. Neeva has to remember to steal some of those pills when she finally escapes this place, though honestly, it doesn't seem like a bad place to stay - warm and calm and modern. She hasn't tried this Schnitzel thing yet, but so long as it tastes better than mead-soaked beshoat tentacle, then it'll be better than anywhere she's spent the night for the past five years. She'd almost joined the Utopians, she remembers, in the days before the Wraith awoke early. She might have lived out a life not unlike this here, had they not woken. In fifty years, she could have been an old lady before they came.
This could be her second chance, she thinks. But then she remembers that she's racing the clock. Once the little guy, Radek, wakes up from his sleep, they'll find out that she's not who they think she is and either jail her or execute her. She's been caught enough times to know that no matter how pretty the walls or progressive the technology, people are people. And people don't like thieves. They like murders even less.
From what she's gathered so far, she knows that the soldier she's impersonating is very high up in the hierarchy of this city. She could use that authority to sneak back into the medical area and finish the job she started. But she doesn't want to. Better to just get away and and accept looking like she does, even if this man has just as many enemies as she does.
It's not hard to just follow Rodney to meet with this "Woolsey" person who they have to discuss the shooting with. Rodney is far too caught up in complaining about how John never admits to his injuries, and also suicide missions, some hustler named Todd, and how a man-shaped mountain has probably eaten all of the schnitzel. How he can talk so much without taking a breath is a miracle worthy of the Carnival of Traal.
Neeva's heart nearly skips a beat when they exit out of a closet of some kind to find the ring right there, built partially into the floor like she's never seen inside a building. There's no dialing device, however, just a large empty room, lit through artistic glass windows and guarded by far more soldiers than she could ever hope to overwhelm. She'll have to trick her way out of this then.
"What? Like you've never seen a gate before," Rodney gripes. "Atlantis to Sheppard. Seriously, what is the matter with you today? You're even more deflective and laconic than usual, if that's even possible." Rodney keeps talking but all Neeva can think of is Atlantis. The war-state in the old city of the Ancestors. She can't believe she didn't recognize the stories. She heard about the planet where they trapped a bunch of villages in the underground catacombs and then collapsed them, and of course the stories of the famous Black Colonel, who holds a life-bond with a Wraith and tore open the secrets the Genii had kept for centuries. They even say that he woke the Wraith in a deal with the underworld like none could imagine. She wants to rip open her shirt once more, look in the mirror and dig through the chest hairs to look for the feeding mark. She know what she'll find there. She is that infamous man. She already knows he's stoic and obviously dangerous to the point of ordering suicide-missions and he's been ruthless in pursuit of his enemies, if the tales have any truth to them. She had better act the part.
Woolsey turns out to be a small, balding man with the same strange clear goggles as the man she shot. He is also a Utopian, but apparently in charge of both John and Rodney. "How'd it go?" he asks.
"Well, Carson officially declared Sheppard a moron, but Radek is going to be alright. He's in a light coma, but he should recover, barring any complications."
"That's good to hear. Colonel, any leads yet as to who might have done this?"
"Um," she mumbles. "I've mostly been in the medical area."
"Infirmary, Sheppard. It's not as though he can't figure out you were getting checked out."
"You were getting checked as well?" Woolsey asks.
Rodney rolls his eyes. "He's been acting strange all day. Not even taking his Tylenol for the chronic knee pain he's been hiding from all of us. We were hoping you'd brief us on the situation."
"All we have so far is Dr. Zelenka contacting Dr. Keller by radio. He barely got half a sentence out before there was a gunshot. It took the Marines some time to locate him and bring him in. We couldn't contact you, so Major Lorne did the initial investigation. There were no witnesses and no sign of a struggle."
"Dr. Biro said it was a nine-millimeter bullet," Rodney adds. "It could have come from anyone."
Woolsey turns to Neeva. "I remember reading in your monthly security report that you wanted an inventory of groove patterns for all the guns in our armory, so we can trace any stolen ones we recover. Did you finish that project by any chance?"
"I don't know. Some of them. If you give me the bullet, I can check it against our inventory." Or conveniently lose it.
"I believe Dr. Biro still has it. I want a full investigation. Use every resource; no stone unturned. One of our people is lying in a coma."
"A light coma," Rodney interrupts, looking stubborn and upset. Neeva feels sorry for him and pats him on the thigh, causing Woolsey to eye them strangely until she yanks her hand away.
"I want to know who is responsible for this."
"I will hunt them down and execute them myself." There, more like the colonel they must be expecting.
She's not expecting the laugh from Rodney. "You do that."
She crowds closer to him, realizing why they are really together. Rodney is like a misbehaving child. A warlord like the colonel must get off on his submission. That's a role Neeva knows how to play. "Don't doubt my will, Rodney. Or I will be forced to demonstrate."
Woolsey clears his throat and Neeva remembers, belatedly, that he is the one in charge here. The Black Colonel might be the hand responsible for Atlantis' power and reputation, but he is not the dictator of its policies. "I apologize, Magistrate, I will discipline the culprit as you see fit."
Woolsey turns to Rodney. "You're sure Dr. Beckett cleared him?"
Rodney looks properly cowed at Neeva's glare, just like Bordal whenever she puts her foot down. "Yes. Though I guess we know why he normally turns down the codeine."
Neeva realizes too late that she has made a drastic mistake. The Black Colonel may be fierce to others, but obviously not to these men who he considers one of his own. She plasters a smile on her face and forces herself to relax. "I'm sorry, again. I wasn't feeling well and then Radek got shot. I shouldn't have accepted the codeine." Not that she knows what that is.
"It's fine, John," Rodney huffs. "You'd be even more freakish than you already are if you didn't occasionally have a bad day. At least we won't have PZY -349 tomorrow. I need another harvest festival like I needed to see Bill Nye and Neil deGrasse Tyson try to out-letch each other staring at your ass."
"As always, Dr. McKay, you have provided significantly more information than I needed on any given day." Woolsey grimaces. "Though that does remind me: I'll be officially suspending gate travel until our culprit is found."
Neeva barely stops herself from shouting out "no." If they cut off the gate, how will she get out of here? "Do we know the person is still here? Maybe they came in some other way?"
"Without the sensor detecting them? And then they used one of our own weapons? No, either the person came here invisibly, shot Radek invisibly and escaped invisibly, or they were one of our people. There was no struggle, and Radek was talking to Jennifer casually, not like he was facing a strange entity or was being held at gunpoint. He knew whoever did it."
"Maybe he did," Woolsey replied. "I'll radio Dr. Keller and have her start on base-wide medical scans. We've had a Goa'uld here once and I'm not taking any chances."
"What about other ways the culprit could escape? Is there anything else we should look for?" Neeva asks, trying to hide her curiosity.
"The jumpers, I guess. Maybe you should post an extra guard," Rodney suggests.
"I'll have Major Lorne do it," Woolsey adds. "I think you could use a little rest, Colonel. Would you mind, Rodney?"
"Sure, stick me with babysitting duty."
"Thank you," Neeva says. "I really need to go lie down now."
Woolsey dismisses them, and the second they're out of the ring area and into another long corridor, Rodney turns to Neeva and hisses. "Okay, John, you're really starting to scare me. You let Lorne take over the investigation? Tell Woolsey you need to lie down? It's more than just a bad knee, isn't it? That treatment Carson was talking about is something more serious, isn't it? Oh my god, you have cancer. The nukes and the radiation planet and flying close to the sun, not to mention all the other million things we're exposed to. John," his voice nearly breaks and Neeva has no idea what to do, so she pats him on the shoulder.
"I don't have cancer. I really just need to lie down."
Rodney doesn't look convinced, but he leads her to the right room and even leaves her alone there after unlacing her boots (looking baffled that they're laced up at all) and practically tucking her in. He leaves with a tender kiss, like Neeva can't remember since her mother, and instead of plotting exactly how to get out of here, she just lies on the ridiculously small bed wondering what justice there is in the world where a mass-murder gets someone to care about him like that while people like her lose their families and their livelihoods and their whole worlds.
@@@
Even though Neeva is in her quarters, she doesn't suffer for visitors. She's surprised to find the first is a woman. Her suspicions about the Black Colonel's faithfulness have proven true. This woman is beautiful, with golden brown skin and warm knowing eyes. She doesn't dress like a Utopian, and smiles warmly at Neeva, touching their foreheads together in the traditional greeting of Neeva's people, bringing back memories too sharp and painfully bright. Could this woman be a survivor too? Neeva has never met another who used that same gesture. Jannick and Bordal had made fun of her endlessly for it. "Gen-gesh?" she can't help but ask, knowing that one way or another it will give her away but not caring, if this is a chance to reconnect with her lost people.
"John?" the woman asks. "How did you come to know of this name?"
Neeva tries to play it off as innocent. "I must have heard it somewhere. In the market, someone greeted me the same way. That's where they were from."
"We have not been to an interplanetary market in months? You did not think it wise to tell me of this sooner?" her tone is stern, but Neeva finds she likes it. This body must too, because she suddenly feels a quick jolt of arousal.
"I must have forgotten."
The woman sighs. "I only wish I had the opportunity to meet the one you speak of."
And Neeva would very much like to meet this woman again, should she ever make it back to her own body where she belongs. It has been too long since she's invited another woman to share their bed, and this is one she is sure even the witless, like Jannick and Bordal, could appreciate. "Maybe in the Spring. Remind me to go to the Pntelli festival market and maybe we'll find her there." Neeva moves back to the bed and the woman follows, so she is sitting cross legged across from where Neeva perches against the wall, he bad knee extended in front of her.
After a moment of silence, the woman continues, "Forgive me, John. I was so caught up in the Gen-gesh that I neglected to ask how you are feeling."
Neeva finds in herself a genuine smile. It feels good. "Much better, actually."
The woman smiles back. It's almost heartbreaking how sincere she looks. "I am happy you are finally allowing yourself the rest you need. You push yourself too hard, John."
Neeva nods. The whole knee thing is evidence of that. She has no idea how the Black Colonel lived with the pain. "Tell me more about Gen-gesh."
Neeva can't get enough of this woman's smile. "It was my people's home, many years ago, before those with the gift were returned there. It was a thriving civilization, with many trading outposts on different worlds. Gen-gesh was the homeworld, a technological society of the level we witnessed on Sateda. There were whole citadels dedicated to knowledge, and progress. I had been there once. It was almost as awe inspiring as Atlantis. The city stretched as far from the gate as the eye could see."
Neeva remembers. For the first time in many long years, she lets herself remember the way the sun sparkled off the buildings, the high, arid mountains in the distance, the hum of life thriving all around. "Must have been wonderful."
"Yes, it was. But my people broke from it for a reason. The stories tell of how the council feared those with the Gift and exiled them to the far Athos base. They allowed the drive for progress and the fear of the Wraith to overwhelm basic compassion. And despite that fact, I had always wanted to return. It has long been said among my people that once you gaze upon that world, you will always return. It was truly spectacular."
Neeva feels tears spring to her eyes, but she suppresses them, intensely aware that the Black Colonel would not cry. Normally, Neeva doesn't allow herself to either. "I'm afraid I have bad news, then. It was destroyed in a culling. The woman I met was one of the only survivors."
Neeva expects the woman to mourn, but instead their foreheads are touching once again. "Oh, John, it was not your fault."
It isn't hard to grab ahold of the comfort being offered, and yet it's the hardest thing of all. It's not hers to take, but Neeva desperately wants to take it. She pulls the woman to her, kissing her check, kissing her softly on the lips as she supposes real lovers do.
"John?" the woman pulls back. Of course she's too good to be true. "I do not wish to be insensitive, but this is very out-of-character for you. Especially now that Kanaan has returned."
"I'm sorry," Neeva whispers. She feels off-balance, more than in a long time. "I had a moment of weakness."
The woman smirks. "You last moment of weakness, you were infected with the retrovirus. Should I be worried?" She clearly didn't look it.
"No, no. I guess, I just needed to reach out."
"Then thank you, John, for reaching out to me. You know I will always be here when you need me and I will never think poorly of you for it."
Neeva nods, her borrowed eyes shining now. She has never been on the receiving end of such an offer, such true and simple words.
@@@
Neeva is startled when the door slides open to reveal a big man with even bigger hair standing there, looking concerned and a little feral. He ambles in unconcerned, making Neeva stand just to feel a little larger by comparison.
"So what's wrong with you?"
"My knee. I took some codeine." She'd finally figured out that was the pills she'd taken when Rodney confiscated the bottle from her and promised to return with something that wouldn't make her psycho.
The big man grunted. "Don't like that stuff. You too sick to spar?"
"Probably."
"Or maybe you don't want me to beat you again." He flops down on the bed next to her and nudges her shoulder. She feels disgustingly vulnerable, sitting here next to him in nothing but undershorts, since Rodney insisted she'd be more comfortable with no shirt on. She pushes herself to her feet and almost dives for the drawers she saw Rodney put her clothes into. She finds a black shirt that looks too big, but somehow seems to pull tight across her form the second she gets it on. Judging by the drawer's contents, she can tell why they call John the Black Colonel, like the picture of the man one the wall. Perhaps that man is his father.
"If you want to be lazy, we can watch that movie with the angry green guy you were telling me about."
"Movie?" Neeva asks. Green guy?
"I think it was the Impossible Hulk, or something." He indicates a shelf with some flat boxes covered in pictures stacked on them.
Neeva still has no idea what he's talking about, but there is a green man on the cover of one of the boxes so she presents it to the big guy.
"Yeah, that one. So are you going to play it, or what?"
She is into this trick too far, Neeva can feel it. She's sweating and almost shaking. This man is a lot bigger than her, even bigger than the Black Colonel, and stronger. He's looking at her suspiciously now, and he is the last person she wants to have catch her. "You know, maybe I would rather spar. Let me get on the knee brace then we can go."
Sparring, at least, she knows. And she's surprised to find that even though she can't see it, this body hits harder and reaches further than she's used to, though it moves just as quick. When they entered the gym, all of the soldiers had cleared out, also helpfully identifying the big man as Ronon, looking just about as scared of him as she is, though she's now convinced that he won't hurt her. Much.
Plus, she's been making a life from stealing and violence for the past five years. It was either live as the quaint little wife and baby-maker that her looks could have afforded her, accept that job at a brothel, or grow up and learn to fight hard, and fight dirty. She grins, favoring her bad knee enough to spark Ronon's concern before almost landing a groin shot, then pulling on his long messy hair. Of course, the man only smiles predatorily and swipes her good knee out from under her.
"Hey, you want to cripple them both?" she complains.
"You asked for it. Finally fighting like a survivor, not a video game."
"Hey!" she protests, even though she doesn't know what a video game is and she's sure it was a compliment.
When he reaches down to pull her to her feet she twists her legs around his ankles, in one of Janick's favorite moves. She wasn't anticipating, however, how much it would hurt for a man that size to land on her. "Ouch," she complains, lamenting Rodney's confiscation of the codeine bottle.
Ronon laughs. "You got me, Sheppard. Too bad, you're still the bruised one." She kind of likes this guy, in spite of herself. He'd make a good associate.
@@@
Ronon laughs at her when she asks for an escort to these jumper things that will let her get out of here. But she's the Black Colonel. All those people nodding at her in the hallways are under her command. It's not hard to call one of them over. "I need a jumper," she says.
The man is young and he looks confused, but he says, "Yes, Sir."
"You heard what happened to Radek?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Woolsey wants the jumpers protected. I'm taking you to help guard them."
"What about west section patrol, sir?"
"Are you going to follow my orders or not?" she snaps, smirking when the kid gives her another "Yes, sir," and takes off just enough in front for her to follow him over there.
That means that when they arrive, there are now five people guarding the door. But it doesn't matter. She's the Black Colonel. It's not suspicious for her to be out here. These jumper things look like giant sausages, but she saw one flying when she stood on the balcony. They're ships that will get her out of here. Unfortunately, she has no idea how to fly one. She sits at what she assumes to be the pilot seat, surprised when the controls light up and a display flashes on, showing numbers and diagrams that she couldn't hope to understand.
The only buttons she recognizes are the ones on the center console - ring symbols. The weird shape suddenly makes sense - the ships are meant to go through the ring just like a Wraith dart. She grins; that's why the room had no dialing device and they needed to guard this one. Escaping should be easy as aknidean water race, if she could only figure out how to fly it. "Come on, come on," she begs, fiddling with some more of the buttons.
"I thought I'd find you here," comes a voice. Ancestors help her, it's Rodney, one of the few people she can't just order away. "What are you doing, anyhow?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"So you thought you'd come molest jumper two? I know you like one better, but that doesn't mean you should be playing the inertial dampener controls like a keyboard. You know, I, um. If you'd come to my quarters, I could have helped you sleep."
That reminds her that even though she finds the idea of two men alone together (instead of both serving at her pleasure) to be both a waste and morally abhorrent, Rodney is attracted to this body. Judging by the way he kissed her earlier, he's in love with the Black Colonel, no matter how dangerous he may be. She stands, pushing up against him. "Maybe you could help me now. Fly me to a pretty little planet and we could make love under the stars."
"Make love? I may be queer as a three dollar bill, but need I remind you that I do not in fact have a vagina, and I am not one of your damsels in distress. And also, you want me to fly, really?"
"You can, can't you?"
"Of course I can. It's just you normally have to be bleeding out before you let me."
"I was just checking. I haven't, um, seen you fly in a while, and I want to." Romantic isn't working, but maybe something else will. She reaches out and grabs him through his pants, stroking in the way that never fails to make Jannick do whatever she asks of him. "I, um, don't think I can fly if you keep doing that. I mean, I know that in space everything is relative, but if you keep doing that, I might end up flying in circles."
"Yeah?" she leans in to his mouth, delivering a punishing kiss.
"Jesus, John!" he shouts, pulling away and hitting a button to close the hatch. "Not here. I know you have a big puddlejumper fantasy, but there are five of your men standing outside the door. What if they see us?"
"All the more reason to go to some quiet planet where we can be all alone."
"Where? The nearest planet is ten hours away and close enough to the sun to burn your skin off."
"Then through the ring then. Please, Rodney, just a little ride."
He steps back, looking frightened. "Um, John, I really think you should come with me back to the infirmary. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're clearly not yourself."
"Forget about the infirmary, I need to be with you," she whines. What kind of boyfriend is this man, to refuse to take his lover to some exotic location to have sex?
"No. John, I'm serious." He raises his hand to tap at the communication jewelry, but she's quick to draw her gun.
"What are you doing? John, this isn't funny."
"I'm not laughing." She's been feeling confused and unbalanced all day, but this -the heavy weight of the gun in her hand, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, the look of fear in Rodney's eyes- this feels right. "You should have taken me for that ride."
Part 2 here
Author: Tzzzz
Rating: PG13
Characters: Rodney, John, Carson, Woolsey, Teyla, Ronon, Radek, Neeva.
Pairing: John/Rodney
Episode: 5.18 Identity
Word Count: 15,900
Spoilers: Identity, Brain Storm, the Shrine and Infection.
Summary: What if Neeva had traded bodies with John instead of Jennifer? (Actually, what if John had just flat out been the Keller in all the McKeller storylines this season? Wait, that would make just plain old McShep)
Author's Notes: I guess this is the episode I would have liked to have seen. I'm tempted to rewrite Brain Storm and the Shrine too, just to make everything better. It's not that I dislike Keller and I think she and Rodney are cute together, it's just that she brings out bad writing like nothing else. This is my attempt to show the episode we could have had, if TBTB wrote with their heads and not with their hard ons. Thanks to dossier for the speedy and awesome beta.
Identity Crisis
Jannick and Bordal aren't the smartest gen-gals in the turnpin, but at least they're damn good at what they do. Neeva looks down at the smooth stone in her hand, grinning to herself. No, her associates wouldn't even think to match them to the Ancestor's device sitting like a treasure chest in front of them.
She doesn't have much time; this village is actually well-guarded, it's people healthy and somewhat technologically advanced. She suspects that they haven't faced a culling in some time. Lucky them. Neeva's been to a lot of planets and seen a lot of desperate people, was one herself before her current life of crime. It's not honorable, but it beats moping about a civilization that no longer exists.
She places the stone into its slot, hoping for treasure, but finds herself in a different place altogether. She's surprised and confused and scared all at the same time and she can barely stop herself from shaking. She's come across devices of the Ancestors that do some amazing things (she wouldn't be stealing them otherwise) but never anything like this. But she can deal, the same way she always deals - quick on her feet, a lie already waiting on her tongue. Better here than back in the artifact room with the villagers closing in.
There are people talking at the end of a long corridor, wearing matching outfits in bright colors like perfect little Utopians. She remembers the island colonies on Gen-gesh, before the Wraith. Everyone equal, no stealing, no fighting, all the same, as though improving society mattered at all when lived at the mercy of predators. Maybe these people will be the same - idealistic. In a city like this, with its pristine metal walls and dull lighting, there must be plenty of treasure to be had.
She takes a slow step forward, stumbling as her feet come out of her boots. She looks down to find that she's wearing a really ugly pair of pants, with way too many pockets, though they are all black, just the way she likes it. Her boots aren't fully tied, the laces just tucked lazily into the side. She bends down to tie them but an uncomfortable pull on her thigh and a twinge in her knee stops her. The pull turns out to be a holster with a weapon attached - perfect. The ache in her knee is simply unexplainable and unexpected. Also, she wonders why she isn't wearing something that shows off more of her cleavage. She unbuttons the first three buttons of her top and rolls down her sleeves so they look less ridiculous, then laces up her boots.
Now, she just has to figure out where she is and then pray to all the gods she no longer believes in to lead her out of here. She's been in worse situations before, like when that fish merchant inVersall almost chopped Jannick's head off.
She notices a room off to the right and ducks into it. There are machines and terminals all over the place and the lights brighten automatically when she enters. She recognizes it from some of the Ancestor's facilities that they've robbed. She also recognizes the flat tablet screens from several market trips already. They fetch a hefty price with the Genii, and that large screen with the diagram on it, she's sure something like that is worth even more.
She's so busy studying it that she doesn't notice someone else come in. He's short, dressed in the same bright blue garb as the other Utopians and messy-haired, like he hasn't bothered to groom himself in a while. She steps back, hand going to the weapon and hoping it fires like she's expecting, but the man just smiles at her, moving to put down a tray of food.
"Huh, it didn't know anybody was in here. You looking for Rodney? 'Cause I saw him in the Mess Hall." He stops to examine her and Neeva takes a step backwards. He must be on to her, but instead he says, "this is new look for you. What with the," he gestures at her cleavage, making her grin, "chest hair."
Neeva looks down, alarmed, but her breasts are still there, pert and hairless as ever.
"If this is some new thing to emphasize your manliness, Colonel, trust me, you are man enough for Rodney."
"Rodney?"
The man rolls his eyes. "Yes, Rodney. What other loud, annoying arrogant scientist whom you are secretly dating would I be talking about?" He catches her bewildered look and sighs. "Was I not supposed to tell you I know? He's not exactly subtle, and ever since the two of you returned from that conference in Arizona, I've noticed change. Must thank you, actually. He has been almost pleasant, in his own way. Actually complemented Miko's work. I thought she might cry from joy. Happiness is a good look on him. But don't tell him I told you so."
"Okay," she agrees. Not that she knows any Rodney. She's even more confused now, because this man is speaking as though she's someone familiar, someone he recognizes and is clearly close to, despite the fact that she's wearing a gun in a Utopian colony.
"You all right?"
"Yeah," she replies, cursing herself for not pulling together more. Normally, she'd find it easy to trick her way out of it. The lie perched on her tongue is just out of reach. She doesn't know who he thinks she is, and she can't think how to fake it. She's never had the situation so completely turned around on her before.
"You just seem a little confused. I know that sounds strange, but, no, wait-- Rodney mentioned something about your last mission with Todd. You had a concussion. Are you ill? I think maybe you should see Keller."
"No. No, no, no, I just, uh. I don't. Where am I?"
"You're in one of our auxiliary labs. East pier level four. I really think you need to see Keller, Colonel. I know you have high threshold for pain. I've heard Rodney complain about it enough. But if you have complications from concussion and don't go, both you and I will never hear end of it."
"It's okay. Just a little twinge in my knee. Nothing a little ice won't fix."
"In your knee? Why don't you just sit down and I'll radio Rodney and--"
"No, no, you don't need to do that."
"I know, you don't want him to worry, but you are actually worrying me." He pulls up a stool. "Sit."
Neeva sits. Her knee really does hurt. But this man doesn't seem particularly threatening. "Please don't call, um, Rodney."
He shakes his head. "I will regret this later, I am sure. I'm going to radio Keller."
What in the Ancestor's name is radio, Neeva wonders.
The funny little man taps at his messy hair and speaks. "Zelenka to infirmary. Hello, Dr. Keller, I have--"
He doesn't have a chance to finish because Neeva draws her gun, happy that it shoots exactly the way it's supposed to.
It's only after the little man has, regrettably, sunk to the floor that Neeva gets a good look at her reflection, or rather someone else's. The chest hair comment makes sense now. She reaches out to touch it and doesn't feel anything but her own familiar skin beneath her palm. Her hair is long and hanging around her shoulders, not short and messy like she's just suffered a wind storm. She runs her hand over a smooth cheek that is clearly covered with stubble in the mirror and whispers, "Wraith-cursed me, what is going on here?"
@@@
Neeva hadn't lingered long. Someone must have heard the shot and she needed to be somewhere else when they came to investigate. In the back of her mind, she hopes that the man will be okay. He had been kind to her, after all, even if he thought she was someone else - a man, apparently. She still can't quite get over that, wondering if she'll be stronger. Her step feels light, her balance maybe a little off, and the twinge in her knee must mean that she's linked to the body everyone sees somehow, even if she can't feel all of the effects of it.
She does her best not to make eye contact with anyone or to attract attention to herself, but almost every soldier she meets nods stiffly as she passes. Some of the Utopians too, especially the female ones. Not that Neeva blames them. Whoever this man is, she certainly wouldn't toss him from her bed. She might even trade Jannick and Bordal for one of him.
After a labyrinthine mass of corridors, she finally makes it to an outside door. The city is even more massive and beautiful than she imagined. It's clearly built by the Ancestors, with its towering buildings and mix of glass and superfluous architectural adornments. It reeks of a luxury that even the people of Gen-gesh had not bothered to hope for, surrounded by a sparkling blue sea and a perfect clear sky. There must be so much here. Maybe she can use this awful, confusing problem to her advantage. She just has to find a way to get out first. Once she has that, she can start think about what to bring with her.
She contemplates ridding herself of the weapon, but she would look more conspicuous without it. And besides, she might need it later.
"There you are!" An exasperated voice startles her again. "What happened to lunch? And don't tell me paperwork, because I know for sure that M3Z-887 and that upside-down yoga chicken dance must have won us the most embarrassing mission of the month pool again, so Lorne's doing it. Did Conan the barbarian smash your radio in training again? I called, like a thousand times."
The man snaps his fingers at her.
"Um, er."
"Very articulate, Sheppard. No wonder Woolsey always looks like he wants to drag you off for etiquette lessons. Now, earpiece? This day please."
Neeva has no idea what he's talking about, but she recognizes the withering look in his eyes when he leans forward to grab at her.
"Sorry, sorry," he whispers when she pushes him away. "We're in public, I know. Just give me the stupid earwig." It's becoming obvious why this Colonel person would want to be in a secret relationship with this man. He probably has a bunch of other "secret" things going as well.
She reaches up to where he was grabbing pulling off a strange black piece of jewelry that the man -Rodney, she assumes- snatches from her eagerly. "Doesn't look damaged. I'll take it back to my lab and check the battery. But first, it's Schnitzel Day, and I saved a plate for you, but left it in Ronon's care. I'm not sure how long Teyla can hold him off. Seriously, John, what happened?"
"I forgot?"
Rodney rolls his eyes. "We've had lunch together everyday, with or without the team, for more than four years. And you haven't missed one since we--" he blushes, looking hurt. "You know." Neeva would almost feel sorry for this man, panting after a guy who is way, way out of his league. Except he's also kind of a jerk, so she doesn't.
"Sorry," she replies, trying to avoid another one of the soldiers nodding at her.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"I promise I'm not going to make you talk about your feelings, just, you seem really distracted today."
"It's my knee," she replies, remembering the earlier conversation. "Concussion's just acting up a little. I talked to--" What was the name? "Dr. Keller. She said I'm fine." She smiles at him, figuring that even in this body she should be able to work her charm. Rodney is obviously already pretty well charmed anyhow.
But instead his face hardens and his jaw sticks out. "A concussion in your knee? Sorry, Colonel, but I've long since become fluent in Sheppardeese and mentioning any medical problem in conjunction with 'I'm fine' does not mean fine at all."
He taps his ear jewelry - some kind of communication device, she expects, like the little man used to call the doctors. The only problem is that this time they're in a crowded hallway. She can't just shoot him. "Jennifer?" he frowns. "Well where is she?" The frown deepens. "He's right here. That's why I called." Panic and hurt flash briefly in his eyes. Ancestors, this man is an open book. He'll be the perfect mark. "We're on our way."
"It's Radek. He's been shot. They've been trying to call you. Come on. You can get checked out while we wait on him."
Next thing she knows, he's running off and she has no choice but to follow.
@@@
Neeva is happy to know that the man she shot is being taken care of, and even happier to know that he won't regain consciousness for a while. What she isn't happy about is being poked and prodded by the man with the funny accent (who according to Rodney likes to visit a brothel full of a people called "sheep").
"Is this really necessary?" she asks, practically shaking with fear as they make her lie down under a big device that's supposed to "scan" her body. She's positive they'll find out, but the first thing they did was make her take her weapon off.
"Oh, Aye, John. Though it is only your brain."
He and Rodney exchange a look she can't decipher. "Not that he needs it really. So long as the part of the brain in charge of suicide missions is intact, he'll be perfectly happy."
Neeva doesn't know what to say to that. And she's shocked when she sits up to find Rodney standing over her, his eyes shining with concern. "John," he whispers, reaching out to touch her.
"So you two finally got over yourselves then?" Carson asks. "Are congratulations in order?"
"Shhh!" Rodney hisses. "Do you want him to get a court martial?"
"Sorry." Carson is really grinning now. "It's just that it's about bloody time. Now, I don't see anything on your scan. A few fading bruises and that cartilage problem we talked about last time I was here. Remember that treatment I told you they're working on back at the SGC? Since it's based on Ancient tech, you'd probably skew the trial group, but it's more likely to work if that's the case. I would have thought Dr. Keller would have ordered a course the second you talked to her about it."
"Like he'd talk to Jennifer about anything," Rodney huffs, "Why do you think he gets you to do all his standard physicals when you're around? He doesn't like her. I know she threatened to 'play with your insides, Colonel." He glares at her, "But she's a nice girl."
Neeva just lets the ranting wash over her. She hasn't been here long, but she's starting to get that this 'John' guy isn't exactly expected to pay attention. Though she definitely pays attention when the doctor asks her to pull her shirt off. She knows that all they're seeing is a narrow, hairy chest, but she feels awkward sitting in a room full of people with her breasts just hanging out. Then again, judging by the hungry look in Rodney's eyes, maybe she might as well be.
She's surprised to find several yellowing marks spreading across her chest and flanks. She can't feel them at all. "Sparring?" Carson asks.
"Try crash-landing a hive ship," Rodney grumbles. Neeva shudders, passing if off as a wince from the doctor's touch. These people crashed a hive ship? They're obviously not people she wants to mess with. "Sheppard's BFF, Todd, and an infection thanks to Jennifer's modification of the retrovirus."
Carson frowns.
"You should have been there," Rodney adds. "You might have saved the two of us a few bruises."
"No, Rodney. I shouldn't have. That virus does nothing but hurt people and has done from the start."
"Don't forget Wraith. It also hurts Wraith," Rodney adds. Neeva is impressed in spite of herself and she feels even worse for shooting one of these people. If the Utopians are truly battling the Wraith then maybe she should just leave them to it - let them have their battle while she fights her own. Sure, she only fights to survive. It's not noble, but its necessary. Her hope of fighting the Wraith died with Gen-gesh.
"Well, nothing to worry about here," the doctor says. "Just let me check the knee."
She pulls off her pants, feeling stupid wearing nothing but socks and a pair of shorts (that he wears under pants? What is wrong with this man?). She's surprised to find her knee already wrapped in some kind of flesh-colored bandage.
"Self-doctoring, I see," Carson tsks. He unwraps the bandage and flexes the knee, poking and prodding and making her wince before retrieving a complicated black brace that seems to cover half her leg. "Might as well bring out the big guns, since I know there's no bloody way you'll agree to stay off it."
"Oh, he'll agree," Rodney gripes. "He just won't do it." It's hard to take the man seriously, however, when he's looking at Neeva like she's a hundred festival days and the great citadel of Ancestor's treasure all wrapped up into one.
@@@
The new knee brace and the amazing little pills that the doctor gave her make the situation at least a little more bearable. Neeva has to remember to steal some of those pills when she finally escapes this place, though honestly, it doesn't seem like a bad place to stay - warm and calm and modern. She hasn't tried this Schnitzel thing yet, but so long as it tastes better than mead-soaked beshoat tentacle, then it'll be better than anywhere she's spent the night for the past five years. She'd almost joined the Utopians, she remembers, in the days before the Wraith awoke early. She might have lived out a life not unlike this here, had they not woken. In fifty years, she could have been an old lady before they came.
This could be her second chance, she thinks. But then she remembers that she's racing the clock. Once the little guy, Radek, wakes up from his sleep, they'll find out that she's not who they think she is and either jail her or execute her. She's been caught enough times to know that no matter how pretty the walls or progressive the technology, people are people. And people don't like thieves. They like murders even less.
From what she's gathered so far, she knows that the soldier she's impersonating is very high up in the hierarchy of this city. She could use that authority to sneak back into the medical area and finish the job she started. But she doesn't want to. Better to just get away and and accept looking like she does, even if this man has just as many enemies as she does.
It's not hard to just follow Rodney to meet with this "Woolsey" person who they have to discuss the shooting with. Rodney is far too caught up in complaining about how John never admits to his injuries, and also suicide missions, some hustler named Todd, and how a man-shaped mountain has probably eaten all of the schnitzel. How he can talk so much without taking a breath is a miracle worthy of the Carnival of Traal.
Neeva's heart nearly skips a beat when they exit out of a closet of some kind to find the ring right there, built partially into the floor like she's never seen inside a building. There's no dialing device, however, just a large empty room, lit through artistic glass windows and guarded by far more soldiers than she could ever hope to overwhelm. She'll have to trick her way out of this then.
"What? Like you've never seen a gate before," Rodney gripes. "Atlantis to Sheppard. Seriously, what is the matter with you today? You're even more deflective and laconic than usual, if that's even possible." Rodney keeps talking but all Neeva can think of is Atlantis. The war-state in the old city of the Ancestors. She can't believe she didn't recognize the stories. She heard about the planet where they trapped a bunch of villages in the underground catacombs and then collapsed them, and of course the stories of the famous Black Colonel, who holds a life-bond with a Wraith and tore open the secrets the Genii had kept for centuries. They even say that he woke the Wraith in a deal with the underworld like none could imagine. She wants to rip open her shirt once more, look in the mirror and dig through the chest hairs to look for the feeding mark. She know what she'll find there. She is that infamous man. She already knows he's stoic and obviously dangerous to the point of ordering suicide-missions and he's been ruthless in pursuit of his enemies, if the tales have any truth to them. She had better act the part.
Woolsey turns out to be a small, balding man with the same strange clear goggles as the man she shot. He is also a Utopian, but apparently in charge of both John and Rodney. "How'd it go?" he asks.
"Well, Carson officially declared Sheppard a moron, but Radek is going to be alright. He's in a light coma, but he should recover, barring any complications."
"That's good to hear. Colonel, any leads yet as to who might have done this?"
"Um," she mumbles. "I've mostly been in the medical area."
"Infirmary, Sheppard. It's not as though he can't figure out you were getting checked out."
"You were getting checked as well?" Woolsey asks.
Rodney rolls his eyes. "He's been acting strange all day. Not even taking his Tylenol for the chronic knee pain he's been hiding from all of us. We were hoping you'd brief us on the situation."
"All we have so far is Dr. Zelenka contacting Dr. Keller by radio. He barely got half a sentence out before there was a gunshot. It took the Marines some time to locate him and bring him in. We couldn't contact you, so Major Lorne did the initial investigation. There were no witnesses and no sign of a struggle."
"Dr. Biro said it was a nine-millimeter bullet," Rodney adds. "It could have come from anyone."
Woolsey turns to Neeva. "I remember reading in your monthly security report that you wanted an inventory of groove patterns for all the guns in our armory, so we can trace any stolen ones we recover. Did you finish that project by any chance?"
"I don't know. Some of them. If you give me the bullet, I can check it against our inventory." Or conveniently lose it.
"I believe Dr. Biro still has it. I want a full investigation. Use every resource; no stone unturned. One of our people is lying in a coma."
"A light coma," Rodney interrupts, looking stubborn and upset. Neeva feels sorry for him and pats him on the thigh, causing Woolsey to eye them strangely until she yanks her hand away.
"I want to know who is responsible for this."
"I will hunt them down and execute them myself." There, more like the colonel they must be expecting.
She's not expecting the laugh from Rodney. "You do that."
She crowds closer to him, realizing why they are really together. Rodney is like a misbehaving child. A warlord like the colonel must get off on his submission. That's a role Neeva knows how to play. "Don't doubt my will, Rodney. Or I will be forced to demonstrate."
Woolsey clears his throat and Neeva remembers, belatedly, that he is the one in charge here. The Black Colonel might be the hand responsible for Atlantis' power and reputation, but he is not the dictator of its policies. "I apologize, Magistrate, I will discipline the culprit as you see fit."
Woolsey turns to Rodney. "You're sure Dr. Beckett cleared him?"
Rodney looks properly cowed at Neeva's glare, just like Bordal whenever she puts her foot down. "Yes. Though I guess we know why he normally turns down the codeine."
Neeva realizes too late that she has made a drastic mistake. The Black Colonel may be fierce to others, but obviously not to these men who he considers one of his own. She plasters a smile on her face and forces herself to relax. "I'm sorry, again. I wasn't feeling well and then Radek got shot. I shouldn't have accepted the codeine." Not that she knows what that is.
"It's fine, John," Rodney huffs. "You'd be even more freakish than you already are if you didn't occasionally have a bad day. At least we won't have PZY -349 tomorrow. I need another harvest festival like I needed to see Bill Nye and Neil deGrasse Tyson try to out-letch each other staring at your ass."
"As always, Dr. McKay, you have provided significantly more information than I needed on any given day." Woolsey grimaces. "Though that does remind me: I'll be officially suspending gate travel until our culprit is found."
Neeva barely stops herself from shouting out "no." If they cut off the gate, how will she get out of here? "Do we know the person is still here? Maybe they came in some other way?"
"Without the sensor detecting them? And then they used one of our own weapons? No, either the person came here invisibly, shot Radek invisibly and escaped invisibly, or they were one of our people. There was no struggle, and Radek was talking to Jennifer casually, not like he was facing a strange entity or was being held at gunpoint. He knew whoever did it."
"Maybe he did," Woolsey replied. "I'll radio Dr. Keller and have her start on base-wide medical scans. We've had a Goa'uld here once and I'm not taking any chances."
"What about other ways the culprit could escape? Is there anything else we should look for?" Neeva asks, trying to hide her curiosity.
"The jumpers, I guess. Maybe you should post an extra guard," Rodney suggests.
"I'll have Major Lorne do it," Woolsey adds. "I think you could use a little rest, Colonel. Would you mind, Rodney?"
"Sure, stick me with babysitting duty."
"Thank you," Neeva says. "I really need to go lie down now."
Woolsey dismisses them, and the second they're out of the ring area and into another long corridor, Rodney turns to Neeva and hisses. "Okay, John, you're really starting to scare me. You let Lorne take over the investigation? Tell Woolsey you need to lie down? It's more than just a bad knee, isn't it? That treatment Carson was talking about is something more serious, isn't it? Oh my god, you have cancer. The nukes and the radiation planet and flying close to the sun, not to mention all the other million things we're exposed to. John," his voice nearly breaks and Neeva has no idea what to do, so she pats him on the shoulder.
"I don't have cancer. I really just need to lie down."
Rodney doesn't look convinced, but he leads her to the right room and even leaves her alone there after unlacing her boots (looking baffled that they're laced up at all) and practically tucking her in. He leaves with a tender kiss, like Neeva can't remember since her mother, and instead of plotting exactly how to get out of here, she just lies on the ridiculously small bed wondering what justice there is in the world where a mass-murder gets someone to care about him like that while people like her lose their families and their livelihoods and their whole worlds.
@@@
Even though Neeva is in her quarters, she doesn't suffer for visitors. She's surprised to find the first is a woman. Her suspicions about the Black Colonel's faithfulness have proven true. This woman is beautiful, with golden brown skin and warm knowing eyes. She doesn't dress like a Utopian, and smiles warmly at Neeva, touching their foreheads together in the traditional greeting of Neeva's people, bringing back memories too sharp and painfully bright. Could this woman be a survivor too? Neeva has never met another who used that same gesture. Jannick and Bordal had made fun of her endlessly for it. "Gen-gesh?" she can't help but ask, knowing that one way or another it will give her away but not caring, if this is a chance to reconnect with her lost people.
"John?" the woman asks. "How did you come to know of this name?"
Neeva tries to play it off as innocent. "I must have heard it somewhere. In the market, someone greeted me the same way. That's where they were from."
"We have not been to an interplanetary market in months? You did not think it wise to tell me of this sooner?" her tone is stern, but Neeva finds she likes it. This body must too, because she suddenly feels a quick jolt of arousal.
"I must have forgotten."
The woman sighs. "I only wish I had the opportunity to meet the one you speak of."
And Neeva would very much like to meet this woman again, should she ever make it back to her own body where she belongs. It has been too long since she's invited another woman to share their bed, and this is one she is sure even the witless, like Jannick and Bordal, could appreciate. "Maybe in the Spring. Remind me to go to the Pntelli festival market and maybe we'll find her there." Neeva moves back to the bed and the woman follows, so she is sitting cross legged across from where Neeva perches against the wall, he bad knee extended in front of her.
After a moment of silence, the woman continues, "Forgive me, John. I was so caught up in the Gen-gesh that I neglected to ask how you are feeling."
Neeva finds in herself a genuine smile. It feels good. "Much better, actually."
The woman smiles back. It's almost heartbreaking how sincere she looks. "I am happy you are finally allowing yourself the rest you need. You push yourself too hard, John."
Neeva nods. The whole knee thing is evidence of that. She has no idea how the Black Colonel lived with the pain. "Tell me more about Gen-gesh."
Neeva can't get enough of this woman's smile. "It was my people's home, many years ago, before those with the gift were returned there. It was a thriving civilization, with many trading outposts on different worlds. Gen-gesh was the homeworld, a technological society of the level we witnessed on Sateda. There were whole citadels dedicated to knowledge, and progress. I had been there once. It was almost as awe inspiring as Atlantis. The city stretched as far from the gate as the eye could see."
Neeva remembers. For the first time in many long years, she lets herself remember the way the sun sparkled off the buildings, the high, arid mountains in the distance, the hum of life thriving all around. "Must have been wonderful."
"Yes, it was. But my people broke from it for a reason. The stories tell of how the council feared those with the Gift and exiled them to the far Athos base. They allowed the drive for progress and the fear of the Wraith to overwhelm basic compassion. And despite that fact, I had always wanted to return. It has long been said among my people that once you gaze upon that world, you will always return. It was truly spectacular."
Neeva feels tears spring to her eyes, but she suppresses them, intensely aware that the Black Colonel would not cry. Normally, Neeva doesn't allow herself to either. "I'm afraid I have bad news, then. It was destroyed in a culling. The woman I met was one of the only survivors."
Neeva expects the woman to mourn, but instead their foreheads are touching once again. "Oh, John, it was not your fault."
It isn't hard to grab ahold of the comfort being offered, and yet it's the hardest thing of all. It's not hers to take, but Neeva desperately wants to take it. She pulls the woman to her, kissing her check, kissing her softly on the lips as she supposes real lovers do.
"John?" the woman pulls back. Of course she's too good to be true. "I do not wish to be insensitive, but this is very out-of-character for you. Especially now that Kanaan has returned."
"I'm sorry," Neeva whispers. She feels off-balance, more than in a long time. "I had a moment of weakness."
The woman smirks. "You last moment of weakness, you were infected with the retrovirus. Should I be worried?" She clearly didn't look it.
"No, no. I guess, I just needed to reach out."
"Then thank you, John, for reaching out to me. You know I will always be here when you need me and I will never think poorly of you for it."
Neeva nods, her borrowed eyes shining now. She has never been on the receiving end of such an offer, such true and simple words.
@@@
Neeva is startled when the door slides open to reveal a big man with even bigger hair standing there, looking concerned and a little feral. He ambles in unconcerned, making Neeva stand just to feel a little larger by comparison.
"So what's wrong with you?"
"My knee. I took some codeine." She'd finally figured out that was the pills she'd taken when Rodney confiscated the bottle from her and promised to return with something that wouldn't make her psycho.
The big man grunted. "Don't like that stuff. You too sick to spar?"
"Probably."
"Or maybe you don't want me to beat you again." He flops down on the bed next to her and nudges her shoulder. She feels disgustingly vulnerable, sitting here next to him in nothing but undershorts, since Rodney insisted she'd be more comfortable with no shirt on. She pushes herself to her feet and almost dives for the drawers she saw Rodney put her clothes into. She finds a black shirt that looks too big, but somehow seems to pull tight across her form the second she gets it on. Judging by the drawer's contents, she can tell why they call John the Black Colonel, like the picture of the man one the wall. Perhaps that man is his father.
"If you want to be lazy, we can watch that movie with the angry green guy you were telling me about."
"Movie?" Neeva asks. Green guy?
"I think it was the Impossible Hulk, or something." He indicates a shelf with some flat boxes covered in pictures stacked on them.
Neeva still has no idea what he's talking about, but there is a green man on the cover of one of the boxes so she presents it to the big guy.
"Yeah, that one. So are you going to play it, or what?"
She is into this trick too far, Neeva can feel it. She's sweating and almost shaking. This man is a lot bigger than her, even bigger than the Black Colonel, and stronger. He's looking at her suspiciously now, and he is the last person she wants to have catch her. "You know, maybe I would rather spar. Let me get on the knee brace then we can go."
Sparring, at least, she knows. And she's surprised to find that even though she can't see it, this body hits harder and reaches further than she's used to, though it moves just as quick. When they entered the gym, all of the soldiers had cleared out, also helpfully identifying the big man as Ronon, looking just about as scared of him as she is, though she's now convinced that he won't hurt her. Much.
Plus, she's been making a life from stealing and violence for the past five years. It was either live as the quaint little wife and baby-maker that her looks could have afforded her, accept that job at a brothel, or grow up and learn to fight hard, and fight dirty. She grins, favoring her bad knee enough to spark Ronon's concern before almost landing a groin shot, then pulling on his long messy hair. Of course, the man only smiles predatorily and swipes her good knee out from under her.
"Hey, you want to cripple them both?" she complains.
"You asked for it. Finally fighting like a survivor, not a video game."
"Hey!" she protests, even though she doesn't know what a video game is and she's sure it was a compliment.
When he reaches down to pull her to her feet she twists her legs around his ankles, in one of Janick's favorite moves. She wasn't anticipating, however, how much it would hurt for a man that size to land on her. "Ouch," she complains, lamenting Rodney's confiscation of the codeine bottle.
Ronon laughs. "You got me, Sheppard. Too bad, you're still the bruised one." She kind of likes this guy, in spite of herself. He'd make a good associate.
@@@
Ronon laughs at her when she asks for an escort to these jumper things that will let her get out of here. But she's the Black Colonel. All those people nodding at her in the hallways are under her command. It's not hard to call one of them over. "I need a jumper," she says.
The man is young and he looks confused, but he says, "Yes, Sir."
"You heard what happened to Radek?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Woolsey wants the jumpers protected. I'm taking you to help guard them."
"What about west section patrol, sir?"
"Are you going to follow my orders or not?" she snaps, smirking when the kid gives her another "Yes, sir," and takes off just enough in front for her to follow him over there.
That means that when they arrive, there are now five people guarding the door. But it doesn't matter. She's the Black Colonel. It's not suspicious for her to be out here. These jumper things look like giant sausages, but she saw one flying when she stood on the balcony. They're ships that will get her out of here. Unfortunately, she has no idea how to fly one. She sits at what she assumes to be the pilot seat, surprised when the controls light up and a display flashes on, showing numbers and diagrams that she couldn't hope to understand.
The only buttons she recognizes are the ones on the center console - ring symbols. The weird shape suddenly makes sense - the ships are meant to go through the ring just like a Wraith dart. She grins; that's why the room had no dialing device and they needed to guard this one. Escaping should be easy as aknidean water race, if she could only figure out how to fly it. "Come on, come on," she begs, fiddling with some more of the buttons.
"I thought I'd find you here," comes a voice. Ancestors help her, it's Rodney, one of the few people she can't just order away. "What are you doing, anyhow?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"So you thought you'd come molest jumper two? I know you like one better, but that doesn't mean you should be playing the inertial dampener controls like a keyboard. You know, I, um. If you'd come to my quarters, I could have helped you sleep."
That reminds her that even though she finds the idea of two men alone together (instead of both serving at her pleasure) to be both a waste and morally abhorrent, Rodney is attracted to this body. Judging by the way he kissed her earlier, he's in love with the Black Colonel, no matter how dangerous he may be. She stands, pushing up against him. "Maybe you could help me now. Fly me to a pretty little planet and we could make love under the stars."
"Make love? I may be queer as a three dollar bill, but need I remind you that I do not in fact have a vagina, and I am not one of your damsels in distress. And also, you want me to fly, really?"
"You can, can't you?"
"Of course I can. It's just you normally have to be bleeding out before you let me."
"I was just checking. I haven't, um, seen you fly in a while, and I want to." Romantic isn't working, but maybe something else will. She reaches out and grabs him through his pants, stroking in the way that never fails to make Jannick do whatever she asks of him. "I, um, don't think I can fly if you keep doing that. I mean, I know that in space everything is relative, but if you keep doing that, I might end up flying in circles."
"Yeah?" she leans in to his mouth, delivering a punishing kiss.
"Jesus, John!" he shouts, pulling away and hitting a button to close the hatch. "Not here. I know you have a big puddlejumper fantasy, but there are five of your men standing outside the door. What if they see us?"
"All the more reason to go to some quiet planet where we can be all alone."
"Where? The nearest planet is ten hours away and close enough to the sun to burn your skin off."
"Then through the ring then. Please, Rodney, just a little ride."
He steps back, looking frightened. "Um, John, I really think you should come with me back to the infirmary. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're clearly not yourself."
"Forget about the infirmary, I need to be with you," she whines. What kind of boyfriend is this man, to refuse to take his lover to some exotic location to have sex?
"No. John, I'm serious." He raises his hand to tap at the communication jewelry, but she's quick to draw her gun.
"What are you doing? John, this isn't funny."
"I'm not laughing." She's been feeling confused and unbalanced all day, but this -the heavy weight of the gun in her hand, the adrenaline pumping through her veins, the look of fear in Rodney's eyes- this feels right. "You should have taken me for that ride."
Part 2 here