Stargate: Atlantis
G O D
C O M P L E X
A Story by
koinekid
Disclaimer: MGM owns SGA; I do not.
Rating: T for violence, scenes of torture, suggestive dialogue, and sexual situations
Genre: Action / Romance
Time Frame: Post "Brain Storm"
Canonicity: Canon-friendly
Spoilers: SGA 5x16 Brain Storm (2008)
* * *
Prologue
Goa'uld Vessel Leontopolis
Outer Edge of the Milky Way Galaxy
An unscientific god might allow the misstatement to go unpunished, but Maahes owed his empire to science. Apophis, Hathor, even mighty Ra, fell to the Tau'ri because they failed to innovate. Not Maahes. The Scarlet Lord rechristened himself the God of Science, and with his superior mind, superior fleets, and superior weapons, bent the System Lords to his will. Now he stood on the verge of conquering the Tau'ri as well. Earth would soon be his.
"Please, my lord." Desperation's war against fear trapped the Jaffa in powerless indecision. She reached for the hand at her throat but stopped short of actually touching it lest she earn severer punishment.
Blue eyes flared to gold as Maahes studied her twitching fingers and considered what tune they might play if gliding across piano keys. Something by Rachmaninoff perhaps. In a voice deep and sonorous, the god sneered, "The stars do not fly by us, Jaffa. We fly by them."
The metal claws pressing into her throat discolored her pale flesh. She was a vision with a lush figure, blond hair, and what Maahes' host would call pouty lips. At any other time, she might prove an interesting diversion.
"It is true the stars do move. Matter is in constant motion throughout the universe. Is that what you meant?"
The Jaffa tried to nod.
Maahes shook her. "Do not lie to your god."
Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Fuh-fuh-forgive me."
The naqahdah lacing his blood could have powered his hand device and sent a death-delivering jolt racing along her nerves. He could almost smell her flesh burning, see her limbs going rigid then contorting. A tempting proposition, but it would be over too quickly. Better to savor this. Tormenting her would torment his host, and Maahes liked that very much.
He squeezed, felt give, the slow bending of the windpipe, the shuddering of a body deprived of oxygen. He kept up a constant pressure until grim acceptance entered the Jaffa's eyes. Only then did Maahes weaken his grip and allow her to choke down one more breath. He lowered her, made as if to let her go, drank in the resultant worship, the sob-delivered promises to serve with all her heart. Through it all, he stroked the porcelain skin of her throat with the intimacy of a lover. Slave that she was, she knew better than to object.
With a suddenness that made the mind of his host jump, Maahes tightened his grip. This time the Jaffa dared touch her god. Tugging at his fingers turned to urgent clawing, but her nails clinked harmlessly against the hand device.
Maahes unsheathed his knife and held it aloft for her inspection, angling it to reflect plenty of glare. She shook her head, no. Maahes nodded, yes. The flat of the blade caressed her cheek. He repeated the motion once, twice. By the third pass, he was eliciting whimpers like a violinist drawing a bow across the strings of his instrument. When her eyes closed, he turned the cutting edge toward her flesh. A soggy scream erupted from her raw throat.
The door to the Command Center swished open, and his first prime entered, kneeling and waiting for permission to speak. Though her eyes pleaded for his aid with a despair that bordered on madness, he refused to acknowledge the woman's presence.
"My Lord Maahes, we have located the Tau'ri vessel Daedalus."
"Set an intercept course," the god replied. "Proceed at maximum speed."
Maahes waved his knife dismissively. Hope reentered his victim's eyes, and he knew her thoughts as surely as if he possessed telepathy: Now that the Lord of Slaughter has received good news, he will toss aside an insignificant worm such as me.
Maahes smiled. Foolish girl.
* * *
Chapter One
USS Daedalus
Tuesday 25 Nov 2008
0145 Zulu
Jennifer Keller traced slow, languorous circles on her bunkmate's bicep. The muscle flexed beneath her touch, and she found his attempt to impress her both unbearably cute and wholly unnecessary. Pleased as she was with his body, it was his fantastic mind that drew her to Rodney McKay.
"Okay, here's one: My dad, Ian Nathaniel Keller, used to call me his little inkling."
They played the game off and on all night whenever they needed a respite from their lovemaking, giving voice to whatever obscure facts about themselves came to mind. He worked half a semester in a college bookstore. She wanted to be a veterinarian until age six when a cockatoo pecked her hand. He lavished several minutes' attention on the tiny, white scar she pointed out.
Thoughts flowed rapidly at first, but later on Jennifer had to really rack her brain, especially when Rodney, displaying a stamina that baffled but delighted, began distracting her again. Like he was doing now. His wondrous fingers danced across the small of her back, making her tremble.
"Inkling, eh?"
"Got a problem with that, Meredith?" Her teeth nipped at his jaw.
"Mmm, not a one."
The hand on her back ventured lower. She gasped then deepened her attention at his jaw until he moaned. Jennifer could count on one hand the number of times they'd made love since she revealed her feelings – an intolerable situation they were well on their way to correcting when he flinched.
Jennifer pulled back, noting with shock the mouth-sized welt she'd left on his neck. "Too rough? Guess I lost control."
"I'm surprised I can have that effect on you." He chuckled.
"You shouldn't be, handsome boy like you." Very gently she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Sorry about the hickey. It should heal before we reach Atlantis. Until then...well, I hope you packed a turtleneck."
"Nah." Rodney poked at the inflamed flesh. "I don't mind if it's seen. Half the crew suspect what we're doing anyway."
She grinned. "And that we're doing it like bunnies?"
"If you want to use the scientific term, yeah."
"You want to give me one?" She brushed aside her long, blond hair to give him better access. "Could be a fun way to confirm all those rumors."
The thought of marring her flesh, however impermanently, did not appeal to him. "Jennifer, if we stood side-by-side and the marks matched perfectly, people would still assume you hooked up with someone on board and I had an accident with a vacuum cleaner attachment."
A wicked grin spread across her face. Even though they were alone, she leaned closer to whisper. "Hickeys don't have to be on the neck."
Twenty-two heavenly minutes later, Jennifer held up both hands, five fingers extended on one and the pointer only extended on the other. Six times. She nodded in satisfaction, choosing to ignore the half-amused, half-perplexed look Rodney sent her way. She would become perplexed herself in another moment when Rodney said without preamble, "Hey, if you ever had a son, would you want to name him after your dad?"
Her heart thumped a rapid rhythm in her chest. She ducked her head into the crook of his arm, angling her face so that her hair would obscure his view of her blazing hot cheeks. When she chanced a peek, his eyes were closed, and she berated herself for taking so long to answer that he'd fallen asleep.
He hadn't. One eye opened, and Jennifer ducked her head again.
"Well?"
"Nathaniel, maybe," she said at last, "or Nathan."
"Not Ian?" Rodney said.
He felt, rather than saw, her head shake.
"I went through this phase where I insisted on calling my dad by his first name. Calling someone else Ian would be too weird." Her eyes followed the path of her fingers as they stroked the short hairs on his chest. Anything to avoid meeting his gaze. "What about you? You know, theoretically?"
"I named all my cats after scientists. Could work for children too, I suppose."
Jennifer grinned. "So, Isaac Albert McKay?"
"Nice, I AM? Do you want the kid to have a god complex? And don't you dare say, Like father, like son." Rodney adjusted the blanket covering them. "I have a middle name sort of picked out, but I'm stuck on the first."
"Why the sudden interest in children?"
"You brought it up."
"What?" Jennifer crinkled her nose. "I did not."
"Yeah, you were talking about your dad and nicknames."
"And you went from that to...to baby names?" She chose her words carefully, rejecting any response that included the phrase our children.
Rodney shrugged. "Seemed like a natural progression to me."
"Right." Mischief sparkled in her eyes. At last she could meet his gaze again. "About that first name, you could always use John."
Jennifer referred to Rodney's best friend and team leader, Lt. Col. John Sheppard. In the time he and Rodney had been acquainted at least two women had name babies after John, much to Rodney's annoyance.
He raised a brow. "Out of my bed, right now."
Shrugging, she peeled back the covers to call his bluff. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her back to him, devouring her mouth in a hot kiss before whispering, "Stay, please."
It was a repeat performance of their first night in this cabin. After they made love and she offered to go – let him rest, she had phrased it – he drew her against his chest and refused to release her. Not that she'd protested all that much. She like the idea of their sharing a room, had wanted to spend the night in fact, but had been uncertain how to ask. She needn't have worried; Rodney asked for her. Then, as now, she said simply, "Okay."
Consequently, Jennifer hadn't returned to her cabin except for a shower and change of clothes since Sunday. She knew the arrangement would end once they returned to Atlantis. That's probably what appealed to Rodney about the idea. He could test the waters, see what sharing space with her would be like without making any type of commitment.
That would be for the best. Jennifer did not doubt her feelings, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to live with him – with anyone – long term. Privacy remained too precious for her to give it up readily. As long as she had her own room, shutting the door meant shutting out the entire world. Sometimes, she really needed that.
Light snoring drew her from her musings. This time Rodney really had fallen asleep. Quashing a temptation to hold his nose until the snoring stopped, she kissed his cheek and settled in for the night. Maybe she wasn't ready to live together, but she planned to enjoy every moment of the next three weeks.
The universe, though, had other plans.
To be continued
Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.
Next time on God Complex:
"Sensors report two ships exiting hyperspace," came the frantic response of Dr. Lindsey Novak over his headset. Rodney adjusted the volume as she continued. "One's a Goa'uld ha'tak. The other appears to be one of ours. A Daedalus class if I'm reading this right."
"Why wouldn't you be?"
"Their energy signatures are...weird." Novak returned. "Actually, I'm getting weird readings all over this region of space."