TITLE: WWEJD (What Would Elton John Do)
AUTHOR: rsharpe
FANDOM: SGA
DISCLAIMER: Not mine.
CHARACTERS: John and Rodney, brief appearance by Lorne and Zelenka
RATING: PG -13 for a little language
A/N: Originally posted as a comment fic for the Shared Body Heat Festival by sheafrotherdon
"Antarctica wasn't this cold."
John gave Rodney a doubtful look.
"I was in Antarctica too, Rodney. And it so *was* this cold."
"Maybe it was this cold outside. It wasn't this cold inside the outpost. I don't think it was this cold in Siberia!"
John snorted. The snort lost the desired effect when it enveloped both of them in a fine mist that almost solidified in the frigid air.
"Don't do that!"
"Dammit, Rodney, if you don't calm down . . . "
"Sheppard, I'll calm down when we get out of this . . . this . . . meat locker!"
John sighed which, luckily, didn't produce any moisture that would send Rodney into another rant. After realizing that their radios wouldn't work in this section he'd assumed that the same energy source they'd attempted to track down was causing the interference. Then he'd realized that not even his Super Gene had any effect on the room controls. He tried thinking 'Warmer' for the hundredth time. Then he thought 'Open' as hard as he could at the sturdy metal door that had closed as soon as he and Rodney had stepped inside the small room. He'd been thinking 'Open' and 'Out' and every variation thereof at the door for the last twenty minutes with no result. It was official. They were screwed.
"We're going to freeze to death, aren't we?"
"No, Rodney, we are *not* going to freeze to death. Radek knows you came here to look for the energy spike in this section. Lorne knows I came with you. When we don't check in and they can't reach us on the radios, they'll come to this level looking for us. We'll be out of here in no time."
"In the meantime, I'm fucking freezing!"
"Well, neither of us is exactly dressed for this temperature, but we won't be here too much longer. Hang in there, Rodney."
"They could take hours getting here!"
"It will not take hours. We haven't missed a check in yet. We haven't been here that long."
Rodney looked around desperately. The room might have been used as some sort of storage but now it was empty. No consoles, no shelving, nothing. There wasn't even a door control panel on this side, something that was unusual for Atlantis. He'd left his backpack in the hallway on the other side when they'd thought the door wasn't going to open and he'd started looking for a spare crystal if it was needed. Not that the tools would have done him any good now but he might have had a couple of PowerBars in there. Of course, he'd freeze to death before he'd starve.
John had started circling the room again, running his ungloved and obviously freezing hands over the walls. Rodney curled in on himself even tighter, his hands under his arms in an attempt to warm some part of himself. He was drawn out of his misery when he heard a grinding noise and turned to see a section of the wall opposite the door slide away to reveal what at first glance appeared to be just another storage area. But then John turned to him with a look of triumph and Rodney stumbled over to investigate.
It was another storage area, but it wasn't completely empty. The alcove was about the size of a large closet and one side held large metal containers stacked almost waist high.
Giving Rodney a hopeful look, John began moving the metal boxes to one side and opening them. The first two were empty but the third and fourth weren't. John began to pull out smaller containers and assorted pieces of metal and plastic, rummaging deeper into the chaos until he straightened up with a triumphant grin.
Rodney drew in as deep a breath as he could in the frigid air to berate his obviously brain damaged friend until he saw what John had produced from the bottom of the box. The glittery material looked like . . .
"Blankets!"
Rodney blinked and swallowed his righteous explosion, but still couldn't move from his spot just outside the door to the small space. John, meanwhile, began unfolding and spreading out his acquisitions on the floor and against the sides of the closet. Within a few minutes he had, with the frenzied activity of a deranged squirrel, made what amounted to a sparkly nest.
"Come on, Rodney. We'll lay down in here on these and then cover up with the others to save heat. It'll be . . . cozy."
Rodney just stared at the iridescent pile of whatever it was that had been folded up and stored in the boxes.
"But . . . "
"Hurry, Rodney. If we lay down together we'll be warmer while we wait for Lorne and Radek to find us. You lay down first and I'll cover you and then I'll get in and pull the rest of the blankets over both of us."
Reluctantly and not quite believing what John had conjured up out of the box but not seeing any other way to avoid freezing to death or at least getting frostbite, Rodney pushed his way into the narrow space and hesitantly laid down on the pile of material. John gathered several more folds of the fabric and scrunched himself into the space left when Rodney had stopped fussing and settled down. After he'd piled all the material he could over them, John pulled Rodney as snugly against him as the limited space allowed and after a few grumbled protests, Rodney discovered that it really was warmer. Within a few minutes, the warmth and the realization that they probably wouldn't freeze to death began to sooth his panic and surprisingly he relaxed enough to think about taking a nap. A short nap. Just until they were rescued. As he dozed he realized that the warmth was having the same effect on John. Their breathing slowed and they moved even closer, wrapping around each other.
Rodney stirred once when a random thought disturbed him enough to make an attempt at a warning.
"John, you realize that for all intents and purposes we're sort of sleeping together in a nest made out of material that not even Elton John would condone."
The only reply he received was a very soft version of John's honking laugh, before they both subsided into silence.
That was how Major Lorne and Radek Zelenka found them. And were admonished to never speak of the incident again. Although neither John nor Rodney had heard the soft clicks of the camera before they were awakened.
- fin -