Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.
Fandom: SG:A
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Author: Tenshinanashi
Rating: pg-13 or T
Warning: slash, murder of an ofc, slightly unhinged McKay.
AN: Yeah, I wrote this a while ago...the plot bunny came from no where and attacked until I gave in. Unbetaed, if there is a mistake...tell me and I will fix it.
Summary: She loved life, he loved John, she tried to steal John, and he attempted to steal her life. It wasn't his fault that where she had failed, he had succeeded.
Her pale body lay so very still, so devoid of life, so beautiful. Her skin had turned luminescent and dewy, her blue eyes seemed brighter, her lips more plump, and her hair shone dazzlingly. She was lovely like this but mostly red; her (face framing) coppery locks of hair, her tempting crimson lips, and her red wonder bra and matching thong that shone through her long, translucent shirt. She had never, he was almost certain, been as beautiful in life. He had done her quite the unintentional favor.
He never really meant for her to die; he had meant for her to fear for her life, not lose it. She really brought it upon herself; she had gone after the one thing he had wanted to hold onto more then life, the one thing he possessed, and he had reacted in kind. She loved life, he loved John, she tried to steal John, and he attempted to steal her life. It wasn't his fault that where she had failed, he had succeeded.
Now, he found himself standing with his hands in the air as security finally managed to open the locked door. He knew they would expect him to put up a fight if he had killed the woman, and he might have…if he felt that he had done anything wrong. It was a simple act of retribution, cause and effect, and had little to do with actual vengeance.
"Dr. McKay?"
He thought quickly of a excuse as the men approached him cautiously; it wouldn't do if people thought he was unstable, they might think that killing the vixen wasn't justifiable. Well, he theorized, John was a part of him and therefore any attempt on John…was an indirect attempt on him.
"She attacked me…" He tried to sound genuinely convincing, which was fairly easy considering that he had cut open that slut's pale throat only a little while ago.
"Uh…" Heavy pause. "We're still going to need to take you into custody until Dr. Weir says otherwise."
"I don't know why she… So much blood." He laughed cynically as he stared at his blood soaked hands. "All the perfumes of Arabia…"
"Doctor…"
"I'm sorry. I just…"
"I understand." The tone was placating and wary but comforting all the same.
His cell was lonely and cold but it wasn't; his mind assigned the cell these characteristics because John wasn't there to soothe away his fears, not because the cell actually was either of those things. He imagined that he could hear the drip drop of water and thought idly of terrifying stories by Edgar A. Poe.
Elizabeth and John entered the room in a hurried, flustered manner. He looked up, hands still soaked in Her blood, and smiled slowly at his lover. It felt odd to have just killed someone for trying to get with his love, but the oddness was overshadowed by the intensity of the love he felt for John.
"What happened? Why did you…" Elizabeth trailed off upon seeing his hands.
"I…she was standing there in that get up and I asked her to leave. She wouldn't." It was the truth just not all of it. She had wanted to do unspeakable things to John, she had threatened him, and he had killed her. John was his, he was John's, and there was no room for hussies like her. "She attacked me. She wanted to…sexually assault me. She threatened me."
"She tried to assault you?"
He nodded at Elizabeth, then turned pleading eyes to John. "I grabbed the knife from under the bed and…she's dead. I didn't mean to kill her."
The funny thing about being a genius was that you could twist just about anything into the truth no matter what the truth really was. He'd had to do something to make her understand that John was his, something to discourage any further attempts on his lover, and her death accomplished that perfectly.
No one would ever find anything to point to premeditated murder for coming onto John for the last few weeks. His truths were mostly true, in his mind, and no one would find fault in them. He would be back in bed with John in a few hours. John wouldn't even know what happened, but that was a necessary evil. John was all he had and he would do everything in his power to keep him. He loved John and no one would ever come between them be it a slutty nurse or John himself. He loved John, John loved him, and they'd live happily ever after. Their relationship was cause and effect.