Title: Death of An Assassin
Word Count: 7, 512
Spoilers: None
Genre: Au
Rating: T
Summary: Being an assassin was neither something he was proud of nor something he dwell on. It was simply who he was.
Comments: I had to upload this again....don't ask.
Inspired by Mrs. B's fic, dedicated to Hope24...Happy B-day Sunshine!
Death of An Assassin
The silence wrapped around him like a welcoming blanket on a cold winter's morn. Only when he was alone did he relax. He liked the space, the emptiness. He had a place to sleep, and a place to sit. He had the bare necessities of a man that doesn't need much, although he could have so much more. A television, a computer, a fully equipped kitchen with just enough for him; eventually, all would be donated to a nearby charity once his job was executed.
He would leave like every other place he's ever lived in. In his line of work there could be no traces of anything behind which is why the cleaning service was so vital in his entire plan. Everything that was in his possession was donated or destroyed. And every apartment or place he ever stayed was wiped cleaned, expertly.
His computer was his Achilles' heel, but even that had to be constantly erased regularly wiping the hard drive, then removing its content and installing a new hard drive. It was all very time consuming; however, it was necessary and part of his life. Yet, he never complained. He simply did it and it got him to where he was today; untraceable, unrecognizable, and the best in his field; the perfect assassin.
He covered his ground fast and light. He was attached to nothing and most importantly, to no one. People were just like his possessions; temporary and disposable. No emotions and no commitments were involved, ever! Of course, there were people who he was fond of, in a distant way, like Nancy. She was only a vague memory now, but he had felt something for her, but it was not strong enough to last and it only stirred dark feelings, which he cared never to bring back to life. Beyond that, the only one who ever meant anything was his mother, now a distant darkened memory buried deep down within him. No one else evoke any strong emotions. It was his choice and frankly, it was a waste of time.
Being an assassin was neither something he was proud of nor something he dwell on. It was simply who he was. A good assassin knew and accepted himself completely. He was different, unlike most people. Not driven by emotions. Yet, he did have them, though mild and very distant. And because of that, nothing clouded his mind. Intelligent and physically strong, he was fast and had a perfect precision. With extraordinary hand/eye coordination, he was skilled beyond reason. Was he the best? He didn't know and he didn't care. But one thing he knew, in the 20 years of experience in the military and in this profession, he'd never missed a target nor did he ever let emotions get in the way.
That was until yesterday.
He got an anonymous phone call to do a job that was extremely risky, but the pay made it worth doing some investigating. The target was one of Atlantis's best and brightest. That alone made the assignment intriguing, at the very least. Atlantis had once been a home to him, a city where he had the fondest memories. The job, however, was not one of his preferred choices, but it had a very promising future. After this, he could think of retiring completely. Maybe even settle, somewhere. Nah, he couldn't think that way. But there were other possibilities and besides, it amused him to live in the heart of Atlantis once again, even if it was just for a passing brief moment. Not to mention, taking a quick glance or more at the very intelligent good-looking women there.
He was a solitary man by nature, but he wasn't a monk. He liked women and women liked him. Sex was a necessity, a pleasurable comfort that he could do without, if necessary. But like everything else, there were rules; the most significant was to stay away from any serious relationship including other men's women. That was simply too complicated. He didn't want the attention drawn to him, either. Not in his line of work.
Then yesterday, he forgot all about that rule.
As he was scouting the area in one of the highest balcony in the East Pier of Atlantis, he spotted her. Upon his first glance, he knew he was in trouble. She was different. Something about her had caught his interest, instantly. Yet, he couldn't really pinpoint what exactly was it about her that draw him to her. He just couldn't explain it.
See, he didn't like a particular type. He'd had all sorts of women in his time; blondes, brunettes, redheads, straight, wavy and curly haired, short, tall, thin, and voluptuous. You name them; he's been with one of them at some time. They were all beautiful and all held a significant and distinguished aura all on their own. Some wanted more than your casual sex. Heck, now that he thought about it, with the exception of Larrin, all were the settling type. See, up until now, women came to him, not the other way around and most of the time he didn't even see it coming!
He made them no promises and his intentions were clear and acknowledge by each one of them in return; although they hoped, pleaded and desired much more from him, it was pointless and useless. And despite the short-term relationships, if he could even call it that, he ended each one amicably and with both parties completely satisfied. With each women that had ever entered his life, he'd wanted nothing more and each had understood.
Yet, the attraction he'd felt this time, for this strange woman, had been instant and strong and it led him here, led him to take a second look.
It wasn't just because of her looks. Yes, her presence attracted many glances, and it was obvious by the crowd of men hovering over her that he wasn't the only one to notice and appreciate her sparkling allure. No matter what her façade, there was no denying the sensuality behind her composed semblance. He stood mesmerized against the railing contemplating the many different ways he could charm her. But something about the way she moved told him that this was not a woman that would be easily swayed.
'You've gone mad', he thought as he stepped into one of the transporters of the sparkling city.
The words drummed in his head incessantly, but his body continued on closer, drawing towards her. His legs drove him up over the curb and into a secluded area of the city. His heart was pounding heavily, like never before. He couldn't think clearly, but his senses were sharp and in tune with his surroundings.
Someone brushed beside him. It unnerved him for a second. This was supposed to be one of the uninhabited sections of the city. He took another glance down the hallway and once he saw the coast was clear, he went about his way.
In reality, he hadn't accepted the job, yet. He had to know how much was on the table. Two million was certainly worth the thought, but he also knew that there would be others lined up to take the job and he didn't want anyone else to take care of the situation, especially now because of her.
Dammit! She had been an unusual surprise. This was so unlike him. And yet, to his advantage, his delay would at least give him a better chance of learning more about who she was.
He strolled away, his manner more relaxed though his eyes were in accordance with each of his steps in the vicinity. His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted someone looking suspiciously through the hallway. To anyone else it would be nothing, but his spidey- senses were going crazy. He recognized this feeling and he knew that look, that walk, the intentions behind every step the man took. He was an assassin for sure.
He had to be quick and he had to think fast.
He went past the mess hall and onto one of the largest docks just outside the city walls. The place was crowded. Mobs of people gathered around waiting anxiously for the winner of the race and for the special speaker of the day. Not concerned for himself, he moved swiftly, not knowing just how much time he had left. The kill wouldn't be here and it wouldn't be so public. It was too risky. But then again, all assassins weren't the same.
Though the day was hot and humid, underneath the shade of one of the balconies he felt the cool ocean breeze against his skin. Paying attention to details was what had kept him alive all these years. His body was completely in tuned with every sound, every movement, and every scent within the area.
That's how he spotted the second tail almost right away. This guy wore jeans and running shoes, so he wasn't one of the members of the expedition team; he was another assassin. It was possible he was scouting the area just as he was, but something within him told him this wasn't the case. So, he continued with a steady pace. He had to get to her quickly; something was going down and going down right now.
But what was he to say to her? He hadn't even met her, yet!
He made the turn, whirled, stripped off his black T-shirt and crumpled it over in his hands as if it were a towel, then burst into a steady run. The other assassin didn't even glance at him as he loped by; an amateur, he thought. Nevertheless, he was going for the kill.
A group of runners swept by; a marathon. He joined along. Hundreds of runners, maybe thousands, sweating through their routines made it a clear cover for him. When he was a hundred yards away, he paused to pull on his shirt. The humid heat had caused sweat to sheen his skin, but he wasn't breathing any faster than normal.
Keeping a leisure pace, he made his way out of the track without being noticed and straight to the dome where his target stood mighty high and proud, Dr. Rodney McKay. Yet, his eyes strayed to the figure standing right next to him. Dr. McKay's right hand, his very own personal assistant, the brains behind his political campaign, the ravishing Dr. Teyla Emmagan.
He'd only just saw her yesterday for the first time, but he was shocked at his own heightened awareness of her. It was instant and strong. By nature, he had always been a very skilled observer. He could see and read from a distant the most minute of changes in body language. Yet, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was it about her that drew him to her. Yet one thing he was certain, she was no ordinary woman.
That fact alone had increased both his attraction and admiration for her. And when he saw a way to have her, he didn't hesitate. A desperate need and hunger stirred within him, one that had the potential of been a huge risk-but ultimately well worth it.
Seeking her out, he trembled at the thought that any harm could come to her. There was very little time. In any other circumstance, his actions would have been executed with a more devised plan. But this was unexpected and the formalities to which he thought on meeting her would have to change. He knew this would require the most elaborate expertise. Dr. McKay was heavily guarded with both military and government security personnel and no one could get anywhere near him, except a killer destined to fulfill his job. Of course, the target was Dr. McKay, but near the guy was where she stood and if anything happened to the elite Dr. McKay, she would be victim, as well. Of that, he was certain.
He passed the crowd and neared the podium. This was a celebrity of stunts with the herded crowd right in front of the stage awaiting words from the distinguished and political snob-ass Dr. McKay. He had done his research on the man. He was not much into politics and there was only that one time that he actually considered taking a job to kill a political figure. That was another one of those rules that you never, as an assassin, wanted to take lightly. There were too many feds, too many cops and too much trouble involved in those types of jobs and so he kept away from them. But that first time, that was personal and it had a name, Kolya.
Kolya, Acustus: Commander in the Genii military and kidnapper of one of his few acquaintances whom he called a friend; a classy, smart woman by the name of Dr. Elizabeth Weir.
Back then he was still the Military Commander of Atlantis. The city was under siege by Kolya. That he can recall, that was the only time he had not executed his intentions. He hadn't missed the target though. He'd found Elizabeth pinned to Kolya as he was ready to flee the city. He had intended to take her as his price and by force. In order to save her from under his demonic hands, he shot Kolya on his shoulder thrusting him back and able to escape. However, leaving Dr. Weir unharmed and safely in control of Atlantis.
Oh, Kolya got away that day, but not for long. Later, he caught up with the drunken- demoted ex-military man in a fight to the death. In the end, there was only one man standing. That fight caused him his wings and his military standing. Immediately he was asked to come before court martial, but he never appeared and was never to be seen or heard of again. Due to the secrecy of the Atlantis expedition, he was deemed as missing in action. Sadly, a couple of months later, he heard that Elizabeth had been captured. The Replicators took her. It pained him not to have been there for her after all she had done for him.
Elizabeth was one of the few people he allowed himself to get close to. Not too close, but close enough. He thought once she might have wanted more of him than a plain acquaintance, but it never flourished into anything more partly because he never mixed business with pleasure, but mostly, because he never saw her for more than a trusted and respected friend. Interestingly enough, he had learned that Dr. McKay worked closely with Elizabeth just before her capture and he would be a betting man if he didn't believe that this so called Dr. McKay had something to do with her disappearance and ultimately, her death.
With closed fists, he had bowed to seek her revenge. But slowly, things began to get a bit more complicated. On the one hand, there was the matter of a highly militarized and protected Dr. McKay whose head was priced at over 2 million dollars. On the other hand, just when he thought he'd made up his mind, she'd surprise him. Her radiant face shone onto his binoculars, calling him to her, but standing right next to the man whom he considered killing once and for all. Yes, things were a bit of a jumble. He needed more information about her. Her name, where she was from, what was her life before she joined this campaign, and what made her join forces with this ruthless egotistical man, his main target, Dr. McKay.
The night before he had spend searching the web finding out everything and anything about the good doctor. Surprisingly, he discovered that he was no political man, but politicians and military did follow him around. A brilliant astrophysicist and one of the world's leading experts on the Stargate, Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay is a member of the Atlantis base's lead reconnaissance unit. Unfortunate for him, he was also a Canadian. It seems as though McKay had been around in Atlantis when he was stationed there, but he never met the guy. It seems like McKay had started working closely with Elizabeth shortly after he was pronounced MIA. To his advantage, Dr. McKay had converted all of the city's sensors and computers, hence giving him the opportunity to walk around the city now, undetected and with much more ease than what he would normally do. Besides, it had been 5 years since he was last in Atlantis and personnel was rotated every 2 years to and from Earth's home base, Stargate Command. So, he knew none of the expedition team currently assigned in Atlantis and most of all, none of them knew him. Perfectly played out for this mission and all thanks to Dr. McKay and Elizabeth Weir. Yet, it was still hard for him to see Elizabeth working with this guy. It didn't make sense to him since even after all these years, he still remember the leading lady very well.
It wasn't easy working with Elizabeth, but she gave him the opportunity of a lifetime and risked her own career to bring him on board as her second in command of the newly discovered city of Atlantis. Eventually, he had trusted Elizabeth like no one else before. They disagree on just about everything, but he'd come to respect her leadership and stand by her as his superior for three consecutive years. Longest time he's ever settled in any other place. During that time he got to know her very well, and one thing he knew about this woman was her uncanny ability to read people and surround herself with not only the best and the brightest but also, her akin sense of reading and working with genuine trust-worthy people. So, there must be something worth in this scientist for her to have him as her second in command next to her military commander, Colonel Steven Caldwell.
Which is why it came as a surprise that upon Elizabeth's disappearance that the good doctor was not the one appointed as the new leader of Atlantis. The IOA had a different person in mind. Instead of another civilian, they'd chosen Colonel Samantha Carter.
While working at the SGC, he had met Colonel Carter. She was a respected and highly accomplished full-bird Colonel, nothing to be taken lightly and much to be said about her capabilities and her status within the political and military commands. Yet, she only commanded the city for a year. Shortly after that she was assigned to a top-secret military team led by the indistinguishable General Jack O'Neil. He tried hacking the system as he usually does but this one was highly protected. It only made things even more intriguing.
And that's where Dr. McKay comes in with his team. He's interested in the position of governor of Atlantis. And although he's got the brains and the degrees to back him up, he is still not liked or respected by the military or the politicians, even though they seem to beckon to his every whim.
It's undeniable; the man is a genius. No question about it. But even geniuses have their moments and their obnoxious attitude. He's the master of them all. But you have to give him credit. He surrounded himself with the best team, and from the looks of it, a loyal team nonetheless. The man with all his degrees and IQ record to back him up, he couldn't have chosen a better and more highly qualified right hand chairperson to be his campaign manager. She was probably the one that would get him into his dream position and was also the reason why he had already decided to take on this job. The irony of it all was that in actuality, he would take the job not to kill the good old' scientist, but in fact to save his life in the process. What bothered him the most, was that in all of this, little would the scientist ever know that it was not because of his own merits, but all because of her, his right hand, and the reason for all of this madness.
Damn, she better be worth it! He had all but shouted last night as he was browsing the Internet for her information. Her background wasn't as easy to locate as it had been for Dr. McKay. He was everywhere on the net and nothing was held back about him. But she was a different story!
Intrigued by the mysteriousness of this exotic woman, he browsed the Internet all night searching, determined to find all he could that was out there. It wasn't long before he found the name and status of the Athosian beauty. Yes, she was not from Atlantis. She was from Athos. Interestingly enough, she was none short but the leader of her people. Turns out the Athosian goddess joined the team shortly after Elizabeth's death. Yet, they were acquainted. He had found a file with pictures and one in particularly caught his eye. It was a picture of Elizabeth and the Athosian beauty standing in one of the main balconies of the majestic city staring sadly at a group of people leaving the city through the Stargate. It took him all night, however, to find even more details of her life for it seems she's an extremely private person. He liked that about her very much.
Digging deeper, he found an interesting article about a young Athosian girl who possessed the ability to read people's mind through her telepathic powers. After that brief article, she must have hidden away with her people for the next article he found on her was dated as occurring three months ago. This time adjacent to a group called the Wraith. That alone brought on his spidey alarm to full speed, but he paid it no attention. He moved on further to discover that she was also a gifted dancer, singer and force to be reckon with as a serious warrior. He knew then that he wouldn't be able to stop himself, even if he wanted to, from meeting her up close, and if he plays his cards right, face to face.
Which is the reason why he was scouting the terrain this afternoon. He had wanted to find a reason to meet her, even if it was just for a brief glance. But circumstances change and now more than ever her life was in grave danger. Just the thought of it brought chills to all his extremities as the stench of death crept over him.
Death.
Before this moment, it had been his constant companion, and his only true friend.
His thoughts turned back to the stage not far from where he stood. He looked beyond the stage to find her standing next to the scientist having a very heated discussion. One to which the scientist rolled his eyes at her, clearly not caring to a word she said.
What did she see in this man and why was her loyalty to him so profound? He wondered.
Suddenly, her stance faltered and she opened her mouth to speak only to have the scientist turn his back on her. She turned to look at her watch and quickly stepped down from the podium. A tall magnanimous man with long dreadlocks stood in front of her and for a moment he thought she was in danger. His steps quickened but his eyes never left her supine form, watching with caution at dreadlock's next move. Her smile eased his nerves as she walked up to the tall man with familiarity and ease. Tenderly, her hand touched the man's shoulders as he leaned reverently towards her. Slowly, he stood upright with his face relaxed as she walked away. A bolt of what he could only describe as jealousy surprised him. He must be her brother; otherwise, there went rule number two, the one where you never mess with another man's woman. Yet, that would have to wait for later. Right now, her safety was all he was concerned about.
He had to speak to her. Had to warn her. Quickly, he moved through the crowd finding the right guinea pig for his next move. A short man in his mid-thirties walked passed him and he knew this was his man.
"Excuse me," he said moving closer to the man.
"Aye, sorry there laddie. I'm sort of in a hurry." The man replied with a genuine smile.
"You wouldn't happen to know where I can find a restroom around here?" He continued ignoring the man's comment.
"Ay, we aren't supposed to let anyone use the facilities, but I can see you are in a bit of a hurry there aren't you?" The man smiled widely once again looking straight at his sweaty shirt.
"Yeah. I had a bit of a run to get here. Didn't want to miss the big guy's speech."
They both looked towards the podium where Dr. McKay argued with the dreadlock man.
"Heat seems to be getting to him too, I see?" He smirked.
The man with a Scottish accent replied, "Ay," he sighed loudly, "I'm afraid that's just the way he is."
Both man stared at the scientist now stepping back from the death glare of the dreadlock man.
"Mind showing me where that restroom is?" He was desperate and he needed to show it.
"I really, oh why the bloody hell not! You seem like an honest man to me," he tapped him on the shoulder as they moved closer to the podium.
"I am."
"The marines have been drilling us about security. As if anyone would want to hurt Rodney." He looked back towards the doctor on stage. "Well, maybe..."
He followed the funny looking man glance back at the doctor on stage. Then stared back at him, "You certainly don't look like any assassin to me. At least not the ones I've seen on television."
They both smiled and he knew his plan had taken motion.
As they neared the restroom, he scoped out the territory and just as he thought, there was no one around. Quickly, he tapped the man's shoulder surprising him. Like a thief in the night, stealthily he grabbed him by the neck suffocating him silently, just enough to knock him unconscious for a couple of hours. Boy, he was going to have one major headache when he woke up. He looked at the man and a surprise sense of guilt swift through him. Moving him into a hidden corner, he checked the man's pulse and continued with his plan.
"Sorry," he glanced at the man's identification badge, "Dr. Beckett, but I need this."
He slid the man into the restroom and set his limped form back into one of the secluded stalls. He took off his jacket and put it over his black T-shirt.
"I'm probably saving your ass, too."
He stood and on his way out, he stopped in front of the mirror noticing that the jacket was a bit on the short side for him.
"It'll have to do."
Determined, he set out into the field again looking for her.
It wasn't long before he spotted her form. She was talking over her earpiece pacing back and forth anxiously. He was so close to her that he could hear her tortured breathing. He didn't want to frighten her, but he couldn't stop now.
He walked right by her and glanced at the doorway through which two marines had just walked by.
"Hi there," his left arm went up.
A moment of complete silence occurred. Her head jerked up and they looked at each other.
He wanted to say so much to her, but the words choked up. His tongue felt wooden and his brain refuse to function.
"Please give my love to Torren. And thank you for watching over him with such short notice, Kanaan." She spoke into her earpiece but never leaving her eyes from his, "Goodbye."
Torren=Son/Kanaan=Babysitter. It doesn't take years of practice to decipher those cues.
Carefully, she turned off her earpiece taking her eyes away from his for a brief moment.
"May I be of some assistance?" Her eyes interlocked with his once more and he found her voice intoxicating.
"Babysitting trouble?" He asked cautiously giving her his charming smile.
"If you wish for an interview, I am not interested."
OUCH! Okay, so the charming smile didn't work on her.
"I'm not here for an interview. Look, this is going to sound a bit strange to you…"
"We do not trade with strangers."
Clearly, she wasn't going to budge. He was going to have to use a more direct tactic and he wasn't sure how she was going to respond to that.
"This is important." He informed her, pulling her hand to the crook of his arm. "Just a few minutes-I'll have you back before you're missed."
He gave her no time to pause and no time to resist.
They walked a bit of a distance to a secluded balcony and he was surprised that she didn't resist his pull on her. The place was quiet and there was no one in the immediate area. Pausing at the railings overlooking the sea, he glanced over at the far dock where the massive crowd could still be seen. He was so used to being so attuned with his surrounding, but all he felt was her warm hand wrapped around his.
After a discreet glance, he returned his gaze towards the massive crowd and spoke dryly.
"You and your snob-ass scientist are in danger."
His dark head bent to the frame of her face, and he suddenly seemed lost in her eyes.
She started to speak when suddenly they were interrupted as the balcony doors swished open.
"Teyla. There you are!" Dr. McKay clamored clearly irritated.
Her eyes strayed away from his and a rage started to build within him.
"Rodney."
"I am at the brink of my campaign and now I'm hearing about this device? Zelenka, that Neanderthal, has no clue as to what he's doing. If you think I'm going to wear this bracelet around for the rest of my life, you have got to be kidding me!" The irritated scientist clamored.
Intently, she pulled from his grasp and headed toward the mad scientist.
"Rodney, it is simply a pre-cautionary measure. The device will let us detect your location at all times. It can sense and detect heat readings from individuals. It is quite fascinating, and for your own security."
Dr. McKay dismissed her comment and stared back in his direction.
"And you are?" He questioned as he moved closer to him staring down at his badge.
"Not Dr. Beckett." He smiled as he mentally thanked himself for his uncommonly sharp graphic memory. He wasn't ready to share his name with anyone just yet, either, let alone with this guy.
"What have you done with Carson?" She cried out in surprise as she looked at his badge.
CRAP!
"Dr. McKay," a young man came running, barely stopping to catch his breath, "you need to come with me immediately! The crowd is really in an uproar, sir."
Dr. McKay took one last look at him and then turned his back. "Teyla, take care of this will you." And with that, he left.
Alone once again, he felt her eyes burn through his skin, clearly annoyed and demanding some answers. Dammit, did she not see what she was doing to him?
"Look," he started, but before he could say another word she had managed to kick his leg out from under him, surprising him, and cunningly blocked him in a headlock position.
Damn, she's good.
Sure he could have blocked her stance, but at that moment, her arms were around his neck, her breasts were hard and warm against his chest and her scent was driving him wild.
"I will ask you once and you will speak to me truthfully. What is it you seek?" She spoke sternly.
" Look, I can explain. See, the good doc saw that my shirt was all sweaty and kindly gestured that I borrow his shirt."
"Do not waste your breath trying to convince me. I trust not the words of a complete stranger." Her hands tightened around his neck.
"Well then, we'll have to get to know each other. Me, Um. I like Ferris Wheels, uh, college football," he tried to loosened her grip by twitching a bit against her grasp, "And anything that goes more than two hundred miles per hour."
He felt her ease her grip, "Why are you here?"
With a deliberateness that stunned her, he managed to twirl her arms behind her back and anchor her body against the far wall of the balcony.
"Let's try this again," he whispered.
She jerked sideways and his fingers ripped apart part of her dress. This was not how he wanted things to go, but his grasp tightened with excitement, desire and trepidation.
Her eyes narrowed and for a moment he thought he could feel her reading his soul.
"What do you want? Answer me!"
"Listen to me. There's a killer out there looking to kill your good doctor!
She stirred within his grasp and silently stared into his eyes.
"You truly believe Dr. McKay is in danger?"
"I don't believe, I know it!" The connection between them was strong. He could feel that she felt it too. It was almost frightening.
"You have but a second to explain." And he really believed she meant that literally.
"First of all, I won't hurt you." Everything around him stopped for all he could hear, smell and see was only she.
"Continue."
After all this anticipation, he certainly never expected to have her pinned against his body, with his hands pressed tightly on her chest and his legs pushing up between her thighs. It was just too surreal, too much, too strong, too fast. They both breathed deep within their lungs, frustrated passionately, as the air steamed all around them.
"Teyla!" a voice boomed through the hallway.
He made a rough sound and stepped slightly away from her.
It was Mr. Dreadlocks.
"Look, this is all a big misunderstanding, " he tried to explain.
He turned to look at Mr. Dreadlocks and for a brief second he could have sworn he saw a hint of amusement there. But before he could say one more word, his body was lifted from beneath the floor and the next thing he knew he was flying through the air like a rag doll slamming straight into the balcony doors.
Every muscle in his body screamed in pain, but he stood his ground as much as he could. Behind him, he could hear her talking to Mr. Dreadlocks.
"Escort him outside."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn, walking back towards the podium. Boy, did her rejection sting.
"Wait!" he yelled at her.
He felt a hand tightened against his throat.
"Ronon!" she called.
"Ronon, listen to the lady." He gasped in between breaths.
For all that was worth, he was no fighter; that is hand-to-hand fighter. Sure he learned the basics of combat, but this wasn't his specialty. He had two lovers in his life, his P-90 and anything that he could fly. Well, there was beer, too. But fighting like this was not his line of best defense.
Lucky for him, the Ronon was slow and clumsy, but clearly, her faithful guardian.
"Release him!" she warned him, "We have other pressing matters to attend to."
Ronon stared into his eyes and all he could do was flash him a grin.
He wasn't that scary. Besides, he needed to get through to someone.
"Look Chewie. Teyla is in grave danger. There's a killer out there loose in the city and he's not going to miss his target. You have to trust me on this one."
Suddenly, the crowd cheered, snapping his attention back to the podium.
"Rodney!" She exhaled.
"You got to get him down from that podium, now!"
They shared a brief glance and he knew. He knew she believed him, then.
And just like that she ran, leaving only the sound of her fleeting form. Obediently, but against his will, Ronon dropped his body to the ground, painfully. Soon, Ronon followed closely behind her.
It took him but a minute to compose himself. "Wait!" he shouted.
And just like that, like a stupid-idiotic-moron, he followed right after them. Why? He didn't know. He did what he came here to do; to see her and to warn her. He took his second glance at her and then some. By all intents and purposes he should leave while he still has a chance. He had already risked being seen and now all hidden cameras had his picture plastered all over their screens.
But no, he was running. Running right behind her not knowing just what he was going to do once he stopped running.
He'd just reached the podium when his senses stirred once again. All the hairs in the back of his spine stood on end. He knew this feeling. It was once again the feeling of death creeping up from all around him engulfing its presence like a predator in the night devouring everything and anything that stood in its way.
He had very little time. He looked to the crowd cheering at whatever it was that McKay was saying. Teyla stood right beside him, her eyes ever so watchful of her surrounding. But he knew she wouldn't see it coming in time.
His thoughts raced.
He probed the area at once. Knowing that things would go from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. From behind him he could hear the marines approach. But there was no time to explain.
"Sir, come with us." Their heated breath brushed against the back of his neck.
Suddenly, he could feel the tip of a P-90 behind his shirt. Damn, he missed this!
Surveying the crowd again, he watched every head, every movement, every body and every form, but he saw nothing. His body throbbed in anticipation, clearly aware of what's yet to come. Then suddenly, he saw it; a man aiming its gun directly onto the stage, its red flash brightly shining through the crowd who was completely unaware of death grazing above their heads.
The marine's heads turned for a split second. He saw it, too.
Like lightning, his hand swung at both of the marines sending their weapons flying in the air. In one motion, he kicked his feet out and threw both to the floor.
It all played out in front of him in slow motion, just like in the movies. His body wasn't moving fast enough, his muscles weren't responding to his need for swiftness because without pause, without even so much as a hint, he knew. He knew that all this time the one he thought was in danger, where in lies the call of death, was where he was completely amiss. The clarity of death's direction played out perfectly in his mind. For the bullet wasn't aimed at Dr. Rodney McKay, it went straight to Teyla's heart.
There was no time to panic. Not that he ever did but the tightness in his chest suggested otherwise. He simply didn't breath as he chased after her.
Artlessly, he caught a glimpse of her in between the crowded podium.
With an uncanny speed he flung and leaped in her direction shielding her with his body, tightly gripping her waist as they both fell back.
His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he saw her eyes closed. He could hear all the commotion behind him, but he didn't care. He caught her on time, didn't he? Details were crystal clear, but oddly detached. Time was moving around them, but he felt completely annihilated from it all. He leaned into her, his body pressed against hers. She had no cuts and he looked for any signs of bleeding, but found none. In a strange way, he noticed her face radiantly beautiful.
Expeditiously, her head shifted toward him and their eyes met.
"You okay?" his voice was hoarse and a little gruff. He quickly eased the weight to his side so as not to crush her tiny body.
Her chest rose in a slow, shallow breath. Cautiously, his head lingered only inches away from her face and with a jolt that ran all the way through his extremities, he stilled as her eyes focused on him.
"Yes," she replied slightly disoriented, "What has happened?"
"I was wrong. You were their target." He loved the feel of her soft golden body pressed so intimately against his own. She was alive and she was well. So why the hell did he still felt such turmoil.
"Target? I cannot…" she gasped.
And he saw exactly when clarity struck her.
"Rodney!"
She bolted upright but she must have felt the sudden pain and weight of his body on her.
"Sorry, had to give you some cover." He smiled and reluctantly rolled off her, stretching his arm to hold her waist, standing her upright alongside him.
She pulled back and he let her go.
They were toe to toe but he towered over her. He stared at the top of her head while he waited for her to look at him again. He threaded his fingers through his hair. He was throbbing at the need to touch her, to feel her body securely underneath his again.
She stumbled and he reached out to her, sliding his arms around her waist. Their faces near inches from one another, he found that it was going to be hard to let her go. She smiled at him for the first time and chills ran up and down his body without mercy.
"Thank you," And he knew what she was asking in the underlining tone of her voice, as she shivered beneath his touch.
It stunned him.
Heedlessly, his free hand slid behind her neck and for some inexplicable reason, he knew that she would not resist. He almost wanted her to, for her lack of opposition only seemed to inflame him. His head bent over hers, and the soft waft of her breath struck his lips.
That's when he knew he was lost.
He pulled her to the side of the narrow passageway and he straightened to face her. The returned stunned look on her face made him smile. With their bodies almost touching, the urgency of the moment his mouth brushed over her face with the softness of butterfly wings. His lips lingered, searching for her approval. When her mouth opened for him, he held nothing back. Possessively, yet reverently, his mouth settled on hers.
His lips fitted perfectly with hers in a long, incendiary kiss. She was caught firmly against his body, willingly beneath his. Drunkenly, he felt her hand brushed the front of his chest and slowly moved up to his shoulder and he demanded more.
But her hand came up in front of him causing him to tear his lips from hers. Reeling back his awareness, he stopped short from her lips and inhaled her wonderful feminine scent. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he whispered close to her ear, "My name is John Sheppard, but you can call me John."
A silent message passed between them for a slight moment. Rearranging his grasp on her he pulled her fully against him as he bent his head and claimed her lips once again.
Behind them, there was chaos. The Stargate had come to life and the city's alarm could be heard all around the city. At one point John thought he heard Ronon desperately calling out Teyla's name, but that only made him ravish her more, long and hard as reality finally struck him fast and strong.
A long awaited impossible fulfillment was unfolding in his life. Only a day ago, he had no one and he preferred it that way. But now, due to her existence, and as he embraced her in his arms, he concurred that herein lies the death of an assassin.
~Fin~
Please leave me a review and let me know if I you'd like me to continue it or not. I make no promises, though. :)
