Things Could be Worse
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Stargate Atlantis or Stargate SG-1. I don't own any characters nor I making any profit from it.
Warnings: Language and violence.
Notes:SGA/SPN Crossover. SGA – Early second season, after Trinity; SPN – Pre series, completely AU.
Hi!^-^
I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. I swear you'll see the end of this fanfiction.
Thanks for keep reading my work and for your reviews! */*
A big thanks to my beta-readers Lazybum89 and The Joeker!
Edit: I changed a few little things (like the second moon thing)...
I want to thank SkyHighFan for her note on the mistake. Thank you!
Enjoy!
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Chapter 3 – Flying to the Moon
His room was much better than the motel rooms he and his family stayed in the past few years. He had his own bathroom and a spacious bedroom with a rhomboid window on one wall. The architecture was in line with the Atlantis' style with walls painted in a shade of light grey and some azure vertical lamps. That was a really nice change compared to most of the insufferable patterns he often saw in the thousands of shabby motels in the USA during his career as a Hunter. Some of them hadn't realized the 70s were over.
The bed was soft, the water in the shower was hot, and the lights were just as he liked. Atlantis was doing her best to make Dean feel welcomed and comfortable. That was the first time, since he arrived, he slept the whole night.
In the early morning, Ronon, John and Dean were running at a good pace around several blocks of the upper levels of Atlantis. Despite the fact he was in a city probably as big as the entire island of Manhattan, it was clean. Every place seemed connected and most of the constructions looked alike. The smell of the ocean was always in the air but never too strong, and on a bridge that connected different piers, he could hear the noise of some alien bird or whale.
The sunrise was so astonishing, even if a bit too green in his eyes, that Dean fell behind for a while. Staring at the beautiful view of the city in the early morning. He was in another galaxy, ready to fight aliens and live in Atlantis. He was thrilled and at the same time, he knew the risks weren't few. Dean could easily die out here and his family would never know.
However, watching the alien sunrise relaxed him…and he felt happy like he hadn't been on Earth in a while. Here he wasn't John Winchester's son or Sam's brother. He was just him. He could choose his own path. A little weight from his chest seemed to disappear.
"Are you daydreaming or do you need a break?" shouted the colonel.
"What? No! I'm coming."
It took him a moment to realize that several feet ahead, Sheppard and Ronon were chuckling and he cursed to himself. He never really liked running for fun as it reminded him of his job, and there were many other enjoyable things you could do for fun, but he always kept himself in shape. "So what's next?"
"We're going to the gym. You'll have a hand-to-hand combat test and then we'll see how good you are with handling guns. We will take a break after and have a little fun."
Dean gave a quizzical look to Sheppard before he shrugged. Whatever they had in mind, he was prepared.
When they arrived at the gym, several Marines and airmen were already there working out doing push-ups, bicycles, dips and weights. They all stopped at once to salute or not at the colonel and Ronon, respectively.
Dean could see in their eyes the fond respect and confidence they held for Sheppard. They trusted their commanding officer with their lives and, if the reports were true, for a good reason. So not just a stupid flyboy.
For him, just his father, Sam and Bobby were trustworthy.
The Marines shot wary looks at him and Ronon, other just dubious one.
"Come on kids, let's round up. Lorne."
"Colonel." Sheppard's XO had a pen in his hand and was checking on some schedule shifts for the marines.
"Is it all ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Let's see what he can do. Winchester, come over here. I assume you've hand-to-hand combat training from your father, don't you?"
"Yes, Colonel," Dean said, shifting his gaze around the gym.
"Good, let's see if what he taught you was any good. Sergeant Barroso will spar with you."
Dean nodded and took his position on the padded floor ready for his opponent.
Barroso was a trained marine. He took his stance in front of Dean and waited for the colonel's order. He was young, probably in his late twenties, and was well fit. The sergeant seemed a good guy, not bold or arrogant enough to underestimate his opponent, but a little carefree due to the fact that Dean was a civilian. Like that was the right word to describe him.
When they started, Dean let the first move go to the sergeant. They circled around for half a minute before Barroso tried to do a fake punch with his right fist and strike with the other in Dean's left side. Dean avoided the punch by dodging away swiftly. Then the Marine tried several punches to get his guard down but Dean was able to evade every punch except one to his left shoulder.
Then he moved.
He grabbed Barroso's hand, placed his foot behind the foot of his foe and pushed him towards the ground. The poor guy tripped on Dean's foot and crashed on the ground with a loud thud. Dean didn't hesitate and took one of his hands behind Barroso's back to immobilize him to the ground.
The match was over in less than six minutes.
"He is good," was the only thing Major Lorne had to say.
"No kidding…Lieutenant Kemp you're next."
Dean helped Barroso up and, after a brief exchange of formalities, they shook hands. Lieutenant Kemp nodded to Colonel Sheppard and took his position on the padded floor. Now they knew he wasn't a simple civilian and Kemp kept his guard up, ready for Dean's moves.
Kemp started with a kick and a series of punches from different angles, always trying to stay on guard when Dean punched back, than with his right foot kicked Dean's left knee. He dropped on his knees with a grunt, got up fast and began to circle Lieutenant Kemp. A few bruises were already forming on his cheekbones but his eyes were gleaming.
Dean was enjoying the fight. It had been ages since he had a good, fair fight with someone else and wasn't under imminent death. He decided to try a trick that always worked with Sammy. Dean held himself like his left upper arm was really hurt and he was protecting it, then, when Kemp got close to strike with another series of punches, Dean used the open in his right side to strike a powerful punch to his ribs. When the lieutenant jerked back from the pain, he aimed another punch at the guy's solar plexus. Unlucky for him, Kemp was able to place a good shot to his face at the same time.
They both stumbled on the ground. Less than a minute later, Dean got up, massaging his face and cleaning off a bit of sweat with a towel while the Lieutenant was still on the floor trying to catch his breath.
"Pretty good," added Lorne while handing a chocolate bar to Ronon.
"Okay I get it…what's that?" John was a bit stunned. In fifteen minutes, their newest addition had been able to beat the hell out of two of his men.
"I lost a bet with Ronon." Lorne wasn't trying to hide the smile on his face.
"And?"
"I bet on Dean, Lorne on the Marines," said Ronon with a grin. "I have two bars, one for each match."
And with that, Ronon advanced on the padded floor.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding!" Dean said with a groan when he saw Ronon.
"You're wasting your time talking, let's spar."
"Okay, Big Guy, I'm all yours." Dean didn't even finished the sentence before he moved fast, trying to land a quick blow.
If the previous matches started with slow and measured approaches, in this one Dean moved with expert precision and as fast as he could, hoping to hit his opponent unprepared. Ronon protected himself and pushed him aside.
After that, Dean defended, blocked several attacks and tried to stall him while searching for a weakness. Then he attempted a roundhouse kick, but Ronon blocked the foot and pushed him off balance, dumping him loudly to the ground. Dean swore. Ronon was one hell of an opponent.
While they were fighting, the other Marines began to take bets over the match.
"Sir, what do you think?"
"Ronon will win that's for sure. Anyway the kid is really good. If I didn't know better, I'd say he fights like a vet. Keep an eye on him."
"Yes, sir."
John was wary. Despite everything he read in Dean's file, nothing explained how he could be a top-tier fighter like the best of the Marines dispatched here without using quite often his "education".
Surprisingly after high school, the electronic trail was sketchy. There wasn't a steady job or place in his life. Maybe he got in some bar fights around the country but that couldn't be where he learned so much about fighting. John noted to himself to check Dean's father background as the guy probably was in Special Ops and trained his son like one.
The fight went on for over twenty minutes, where both sides seemed pretty worn out, until Ronon got Dean with a swift punch to his jaw and finished the match, sending the kid on the floor, breathing heavily.
Ronon extended a hand to help him get up. "You good?"
"Peachy."
"Let's spar again another time."
"You betcha."
"Okay kids, the show is over! Come on guys, go take a shower. We're meeting at the shooting range in thirty."
When they arrived, Sheppard took his time to explain every weapon they had in there: P90, berretta, several automatic and semi-automatic guns, the difference between switch blades, karambits and boot knives, how much distance one needed to be safe from the blast of a grenade or the C4. Except the Wraith's stunner, his whole speech sounded like a boring lecture to Dean.
While he explained how to use a P90, Dean took one in his hands, switched the safety off and shot at his target. He was able to draw a smiley face on the chest of his paper target. "Nice, but I still prefer the Colt and the Desert Eagle I had."
"Right…You know the P90 has more bullets and it's more effective on a Wraith."
Dean took his .45-caliber M1911 and shot five times: two in the head, two in the heart and one in the lower parts of the target.
Sheppard looked amused. "I can see your point. However, for off-world missions the P90 is our standard weapon."
Ronon took out his gun and shot right where Dean's smiley face was. The hole was so big that half the chest of the paper target was gone.
"Where I can get one of those?" Dean had his envy eyes on Ronon's gun.
"Get in line kiddo. Everyone here would have one those." Sheppard had a big grin on his face, like it was an old joke.
Envy and delusion were all over his face. However he soon became occupied with the Wraith's stunner and one of the Genii's gun. It seemed that whatever weapon he picked, Dean was able to handle it without effort. After that they tried several other weapons. Then the test was over and Dean was walking out of the shooting range. He was almost at the armory's door.
"Didn't you forget something?"
"Uh?"
Sheppard was cleaning a Wraith's stunner and looking at him with a disapproving frown. Maybe the kid needed to know what it was like to be stunned by that gun.
"What did I say yesterday?"
"Welcome to Atlantis?" Dean said with a charming, sheepish smile.
Sheppard let out a sigh. It was like scolding a child. "Come on, Winchester. Leave the knife here. I said no weapons." His hands were tight on the stunner. Ronon was grinning and half curious to see what would happen next.
Dean shrugged his shoulders like it wasn't a big deal and gave back his silver knife. He had taken it while they were doing the shooting test. "Well you can't blame a man for trying."
"Yeah, right. Don't push your luck, kid. You won't have a second chance."
Sheppard's last sentence had a serious tone and Dean nodded, understanding the warning behind it.
John took the knife and closed it in the armory with the Wraith's stunner; Ronon took a moment to look at the knife while he was close to Sheppard. "I like him. He has good tastes for knives."
"I like him too but he can't have a knife despite your policy to always carry one with you. I know you gave one to Doctor Parrish last week." He gave a huge frown to Ronon.
"It was for his off-world mission with Lorne," Ronon said with a serious face.
"Not the point, Ronon…we don't know him…he's a civilian….just…just don't give him any of your knives okay?"
"Okay."
"Good."
While John locked the armory, Dean was near the door waiting for them with a sergeant who was watching him like he was a thief who just attempted to steal the Crown jewels. It was a bit annoying to be glared at in such a way for his effort to get back his own knife but Dean didn't let it bother him.
"So what's the fun part you were saying early?"
"Let's go. I'll show you." Sheppard's eyes were beaming and a big smile spread on his face.
Whatever he had in mind, Dean was a little uneasy with that joyful attitude.
After several corridors and ramp of stairs, Dean was confused. If it were up to him, he probably would be lost in Atlantis in a couple of hours. The buildings had all the same architectures and it was hard to understand the complexity of it when they could move from the inner city to the northern pier just by taking an elevator.
Despite that, the colonel kept showing him things: laboratories, archives, living quarters and the most frequented areas of the city.
"If I know one thing for sure it's that your life changes forever once you have an experience in outer space or after one trip though the Stargate. You and your problems seem so small in the big picture. Some trips can go wrong but once you do it once, you're eager to do it again. Trust me."
As they entered a new bay, Dean whispered to Ronon, "How long will he keep going like a hyperactive kid?"
Ronon looked at Dean with a little frown. "He is always like this."
"Great," he said with an annoyed face.
"Come on guys, let's have a little fun."
As Sheppard said those words, the doors of a huge hangar opened. There were vehicles that looked like a mix of mini space shuttle and a tin can. Some scientists were working on two of them while the other vehicles were parked, each one in an accurate spot.
Dean had his mouth open in awe. Those were really strange pieces of technology and for a while he wondered what kind of engines were in them. He followed the colonel into one of them.
"You know we call it a puddle jumper, jumper for short."
He wasn't really listening to what Sheppard was saying as his eyes were stuck on the things inside. At first, its shape threw Dean, who believed it was an advanced submarine, since Atlantis was a city floating on the sea and he heard that the city was once on the bottom of the ocean. He could just picture the city under water, hiding from the Wraith with protective shield in place and these tiny submarines as the only way to go out and reach the mainland.
Then once he saw Colonel Sheppard taking the controls and remembering the name "jumper" in several reports, he grasped the right answer. "No way."
He was almost half out of it when Sheppard closed the jumper's rear hatch and with simple and quick maneuvers flew the jumper up toward the ceiling of the Jumper Bay. Dean grabbed the first seat he found and closed his eyes. "Shitshitshitshit…"
"Hey Winchester! What are you doing back there? Come and see the planet we're on. You can see everything from here and guess what? You're gonna go into space!"
Dean wasn't panicking.
He was cursing and some of his obscenity were directed to a certain freaking flying colonel; at the same time, however, he was sending prayers to whatever deity was out there, hoping that they wouldn't crash by being accidentally hit by an asteroid.
With his luck, that was a high probability.
He began to mumble again. No, Dean wasn't panicking at all. "Take me down…now!"
"What? Why?"
"Because…Oh God….those are moons?...shitshitshit."
Sheppard and Ronon looked first at each other and then at Dean: he was using his cursing like a mantra. A little smile had grown on both their faces.
"Don't tell me… you're afraid of flying, aren't you?"
"No, Sherlock. I'm not afraid. It's statistics: planes crash, people die."
"You're joking, right?" John's smile grew wider.
"Do I look like I'm joking? I don't fly. Take me down."
"Dean, I'm a seasoned pilot and this isn't a simple plane. We're not gonna crash, at least not from a brief recon without any Wraith ship chasing us."
"Don't jinx it!"
"Fine, fine. Okay come here and see for yourself. The jumpers are Ancient technology, the same as Atlantis."
Dean moved slowly from the seat near the hatchback to the one behind the colonel. He could see the strange symbols, similar to the ones on the so called Stargate, the pilot joysticks and thanks to the wide front window, the entire alien planet below them and the stars above. The sight was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
He knew that if a small piece of asteroid broke the front window all the oxygen would be sucked out in less than a minute and they would die. Asphyxiation wasn't a good way to die. Yet to be able to see another world in another galaxy with a different set of stars was truly astonishing. His erratic heartbeat started to take a more steady rhythm.
"Thanks to the ATA gene I can control the ship with my mind. I can fly, shoot or cloak the jumper simply by thinking about it. It's much safer than any vehicles on Earth. There is no reason to be afraid."
"I trust my Impala more than this tin can but I catch the drift."
He was fidgeting but it seemed like talking about the technology of the jumper distracted him from the fact he was flying so John kept chatting about drones, cloaking device, inertial dampers and other technical stuff. They just looked like a couple of guys talking about motors and cars. Dean, however, never let the window's view out of his sight.
While they were talking, Sheppard smoothly flew the jumper around the moon and did a scan. "Control Tower to Jumper One. Come in."
"Control Tower, this is Jumper One. Is everything okay down there? Over."
"Everything's fine, Colonel. Just a routine check, sir. You've been up there for over two hours. We were wondering if you encountered some anomaly. Over." Chuck had just a hint of worry in his voice.
"All in order up here. We'll do a quick check near the biggest asteroid and we're coming home. Keep the roof open. Over."
"Roger that. Central Tower Out."
The colonel turned to Dean with a teasing smile. "What do you think? Wanna try or are you too chicken to handle it?"
Dean was a little pale but, just to take that smug smile from Sheppard's face, he took Sheppard's seat and Sheppard's took Ronon's. The Satedan sat behind the colonel without a word. "What do I have to do?"
"Take the commands. Can you feel it in the back of your mind?"
After a brief nod from Dean, he kept going.
"Think of flying the jumper as if you're driving your Impala."
"I drive on a road not in the middle of frigging nowhere."
Before he finished that statement, a semi-transparent screen appeared in front of him: on the upper right side there was something similar to an odometer, on the left side a mini-map showing his surroundings and in the middle a series of lines like the ones on a road. "What the hell!?"
"Well you wanted a road…" Even as he said that, John was a bit surprised. He was a pilot, he didn't need a road to help himself to fly around, and as far as what he knew, none of the other pilots ever mentioned a panel like that. It was similar, yet different in several ways, to the one that showed their trajectory in space. Atlantis, and by extension the jumper, filled the request of their new member to her best. There was always something new with her.
"She is something…"
Dean grinned a bit while he adjust his grip on the controls and flew the jumper at first with a wary drive and nervous eyes. When he got the hang on the whole "flying thing", he flew the jumper with more ease. As they got nearer the biggest asteroid, the jumper was flying like a racecar on a deserted, imaginary highway.
"Okay, now turn around at the asteroid and head back to Atlantis."
"Wha…it's huge."
"Yeah and we're gonna crash on it if you don't stop admiring it."
That was meant to be a little joke but a terrified Dean swiftly turned his head to look at Sheppard and lost his focus on the panels. Before the jumper's controls were lost and the gravitational field of the asteroid kicked in, John took the gearshifts with a strong mental and physical grasp from his spot.
Dean was as white as a sheet and his hands were gripping the handles of his chair. Ronon just stared at them with a curious look.
"Sorry. Bad choice of words."
"Son of…Can we go back now?"
Sheppard smiled. Maybe trying to solve his fear of flying would take more than a simple trip.
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Rodney was having a bad day: He didn't find any muffins in the mess hall this morning, some labs still weren't working properly and he was assigned to several boring duties, one of them involved their new recruit. It seemed to Rodney that Elizabeth and Sheppard had a complex for strays: First Ronon and now Winchester. He was just beginning to adapt to Ronon and now he had to suffer the presence of another dumbass walking in the hallways of his Atlantis.
So, Rodney was in his lab working, muttering curses, and doing his best to add the strangest questions to the test for their newest, obnoxious guy: quantum physics, Latin, math, American history, cultural nonsense taken from Doctor Daniel Jackson's notes, French, chemistry, basic engineering problems on a 302, biology and so on.
The MIT's papers meant he wasn't just a pretty face. Behind his cocky grin, he probably had some brain cells; however, his attitude rubbed Rodney as very few people had managed to do. Even if Doctor Weir had offered him a job here, now that he was in his domain, Rodney knew how to make his life a living hell. The test was just the beginning.
He watched with smug eyes as Winchester entered and took a seat in the lab. He was bored and his face showed disinterest for him and his minion. After several minutes, on McKay's order, the bald man placed several papers and a pen in front of Dean.
"What the hell is this?"
The scientist let out a sigh. "Mr. Winchester, we hoped…" McKay glared at him with a cold stare and he closed his mouth.
What's his name again? Waldron? Watson? Walton? What an incompetent man. "That's your exam moron. You have two hours to finish it and Doctor Waldron will stay here to keep tabs on you."
"Watson, sir…I'm Doctor Watson."
"Whatever." Rodney shushed him with a hand.
"And if I don't take it? You…What? Write a note and send me to the principal?" Dean was teasing him and Rodney's cheeks became red in an instant.
"You'll take it or I will personally see that you will be escorted to a cell since you're a security risk!"
"Aww I'm wounded and here I thought we were bonding so well."
Rodney snorted with disdain. "You're delusional, Winchester, and your reluctance to do this test is just more proof that you're a fraud. You probably sent someone else to take the exams in your place. Who? Maybe your little brother?"
"Bite me."
"Enough you two."
Both of them turned their eyes on the person near the door. Doctor Weir was there with her hands folded across her chest and a deep frown on her face.
"Dean Winchester, we already discussed this matter. Doctor McKay is the Chief of the Science Department and he has the right to evaluate your abilities. So if he says you have to take the test, you'll take it. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Rodney had a huge grin on his face while Elizabeth was scolding Dean. However, after the response from the guy, the leader of their expedition was glaring at him with the same intensity she had with Winchester.
"Doctor McKay, didn't I order you to explain things clearly? It's a new, unexpected development for everyone. However, I don't need to remind you where we are and what it is we are doing. Quit poking at each other and get to work. That's an order…for both of you."
"Fine."
"Yes, ma'am."
They glared at each other for another couples of seconds before Dean took the pen and started his test. Rodney took his data-pad and walked out of the lab, while Doctor Weir let out a sigh and followed her scientist. She had many years working on diplomatic missions on Earth and yet, in a situation like this, she felt more and more like an elementary teacher scolding two children rather than the leader of an expedition in another galaxy.
"I don't like him."
"Ronon likes him."
"Well then those two can be Conan the Barbarian and Rambo together with their guns and muscles and stay away from me. Why did you order me to evaluate him? He's another stupid monkey!"
"Rodney! You are the Chief of the Science Department. Act like one! Winchester is here now. We don't know anything about him so I need an evaluation from everyone and that's an order. End of story."
"Fine. Now let me go back to my projects. I already lost enough time for this."
"Did you succeed in solving the problem in Section…Twelve?"
"What? The lab with flickering lights?"
"Yes, I already received a report about that."
"It must be some broken crystals. I'll check when I'll have time. You do realize there are still several important repairs that need to be done because of the Wraith attack?"
"Yes, Rodney. You don't have to remind me"
"Then let me do my work. God, I need a coffee."
After that, Doctor Weir went to the main tower while Rodney took off towards the mess hall.
When he went back to the lab three hours later, he found his minions working on several repairs and a new paper on his lab desk. He sat there and looked at the test he gave to Winchester. After a while he stormed out of the lab, furiously yelling to everyone to do their job while the paper with a smiley face, some answers and foul words rested on his desk.
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After the so called test, Dean wondered around Atlantis with his appointed guide, Sergeant Stackhouse. The two of them got along fine and the marine took him to a large room, similar to the gym but in a more isolated area.
Teyla was there sitting on the floor in a meditating position. "Good afternoon Dean Winchester."
"Hi, sorry to bother you. I didn't know Atlantis had a yoga room."
She looked at him with a little confusion then she smiled. "You are not the first one to talk about this 'yoga'. What is it?"
"Uh.. well it's…some touchy-feely form of exercise girls do to relax."
"I understand, thank you. I do not do yoga here. I am meditating. Would you like to join me?"
"Thank you, sister, but I don't like new age things."
She was trying harder to understand his slang but then she dropped the subject when Sheppard came into the room. After a brief conversation near the door, the colonel dismissed Sergeant Stackhouse and greeted the two of them.
"Then would you like to see Colonel Sheppard's lesson? I am teaching the Bantos fighting style."
Dean nodded. He was always ready to see and learn new techniques. Despite everything his dad had taught him, Dean always sparred with him or Sam and that didn't leave much room to come up with new moves. Monsters and ghosts didn't count as sparring buddies; every time he was lucky his training was enough to keep him alive. Besides, this seemed like a good opportunity to see the colonel's fighting abilities.
Regardless of the fact that she was thin and well fit, her stance was that of a seasoned fighter and Sheppard's face showed the dismay typical of someone about to get their ass kicked by their instructor. No way in hell would he miss the match. He sat near a wall and watched as they began their match.
They circled each other for a while before Sheppard took the initiative and, with a strong slash, tried to hit Teyla on her left hip. She elegantly avoided it with a rod and at the same time used the other one to hit the right shoulder left unguarded by the colonel. He stepped back a little to regain his balance while she waited for him. It was like a dance or, at least, Teyla's movements were.
She was swift and precise in every action and her rods were always able to hit Sheppard on his hips, shoulders or knees. After a few minutes, Sheppard was panting and aching all over while Teyla was only a little heated and without an ache.
"You have not practiced your Bantos fighting in weeks, Colonel."
"Uhm…I was a little busy…so what's this…payback?"
"No, I was only reminding you to listen more during our lessons."
"Copy that."
After the brief exchange they kept fighting for another five minutes before Sheppard was on the floor. "Yeah…I don't think this is only for that."
"No, you were lazy today. You showed up late."
Dean chuckled, unable to keep it to himself. The fighting and the reprimand were awesome; just what he needed to cheer up.
"What are you laughing about?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, right. Maybe you should be in my place. It's not a cakewalk to fight with Teyla."
"I didn't say anything." His grin, however, betrayed his words.
"Sheppard is right, perhaps we should have a practical lesson. Do you want to try?"
He shifted on his spot. He didn't like to fight with girls but if the previous match was any kind of warning of how good Teyla was then he could easily forget her gender. Besides, Teyla's words had the distinct tone of someone who didn't accept "no" for an answer. "Sure, why not."
Sheppard got up and gave the rods to Dean. He took them and gave them a few practice swings to get acquainted with their weight. When he was ready, he faced Teyla. As in the previous match the two of them started to circle each other, both prepared with their rods in hand for the other's first move.
Dean wasn't ready to make the first move so Teyla took the first step in their fight. In the beginning, she only bumped her rods a few times with his; tantalizing and letting him defend each blow. Then when he began to gain confidence in his steps, she increased the pace and was able to hit him a few times. He distanced himself from her to gain a little moment to collect himself. Even if she had hit him only two or three times, they were well placed hits and his body was aching already. He wouldn't win in a prolonged fight. Teyla would win simply by tiring him so he threw caution to the wind and began to attack. He tried to mimic her by hitting either her shoulders, knees or hands but each time Teyla was able to defend herself from his attacks.
This time, she was the one that backed off to take a small breath. Dean was in worse shape, panting and sweating. He ran towards her at a fast sprint and unleashed a powerful blow with his right rod. She saw the strength behind the attack and defended herself with both her rods leaving her left side uncovered. He took a chance to hit it with his left rod, although it was slower and weaker than the other and as a result, Dean only grazed her left shoulder.
Teyla was a little surprised but without missing a beat, she turned around and with a precise blow, the power increased by her spin, hit his ankle. He jumped backwards from the pain and was kicked by her foot in the abdomen. Dean was on the floor without even realizing how it had happened and Teyla was right there, with a rod pointed at his solar plexus.
"I surrender?"
"Very well." She let him go and went to retrieve her towel. "Did you have any previous experience with this kind of fighting style?"
"Mmm…not really."
Dean couldn't say that swinging iron bars around to fend off ghost was in any way similar to that but surely it gave him an understanding of how to grip an iron bar, or a wooden rod in this case, and how much strength he had to put in each strike.
"But I saw some movie with Escrima fights," he added trying to dodge any question.
"Escrima?"
"That is a martial art used on Earth by some people. It isn't very common." John filled in while they were taking a little time to themselves.
"It uses sticks or knives and hand-to-hand combat. Yeah in some way it's similar but less…"
"Elegant," Dean provided.
"Bantos are more elegant?"
"That or you took it to a whole new level, sweetheart."
John shot a glare in his direction.
Teyla was unfazed by that but pointed the rod again against Dean, this time near his Adam's apple. "Please call me Teyla. Will you come next week for another lesson?"
"Umh…sure. Sorry…Teyla."
"Very well. I accept your apologies Dean Winchester."
"You can just call me Dean."
She nodded and left the room.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ sga~spn ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Before the Daedalus entered their solar system, Elizabeth summoned her senior staff in the conference room. She wanted an update on their newest addition and something in her gut told her that the next encounter with Colonel Caldwell wouldn't be pleasant.
"Gentlemen, Teyla have a seat. What's your opinion on Winchester? "
"He's good in hand-to-hand combat, he took out two of my Marines without a sweat, and he is well versed in firearms too. We talked about military tactics and he was good in that field as well. He can handle himself better than some of my Marines although he has fear of flying. He's a hothead and sometimes a bit cocky though I think overall he's a good guy."
"From a medical point of view, he has several old injuries and scars, some compatible with the medical reports you gave me, Elizabeth. Other injuries appear to have been handled by someone with a bittie of field medical experience. As I said before, no previous alien encounter is visible in his tests. I've cleared him. His arm is fine and he doesn't need any meds. The lad has a healthy appetite but he should lower his consumption of high calorie foods."
"Uhmf…I don't like him," Rodney said without preamble and pushed a paper test to Zelenka.
All eyes were on McKay while Radek raised his eyebrow then looked at the test with a little amusement.
"Rodney, what is it that is upsetting you? The fact that he almost solved a problem on a 302 he doesn't know anything about or the fact that he didn't answer half the questions?"
"There something fishy about him. He dropped school to be a wannabe detective, there is no way he could solve that problem! Besides who knows something about Cajun folklore? About what the hell a Rugaru is?"
They looked each other trying to understand if anyone knew what he was talking about.
"Doctor Jackson?" asked Carson shyly.
"Exactly! Only a freak like Jackson can answer such a question, but at least he's an archeologist! He has to know this kind of nonsense! Winchester doesn't even know who the Vice President of his own country is! I'm telling you there's something wrong with that guy!"
"Come on Rodney! The kid traveled a lot and took online courses, maybe he's just good with engineer stuff."
"Pftt…you can't be serious Sheppard! We aren't talking about a quick, easy car to repair, we are talking about a 302's engine!"
"So he is smart," Ronon said dryly.
"Smart! Ah! It's more likely he took a lucky guess or coaxed Walton to help him!"
"Who?"
Zelenka's eyebrow rose higher trying to figure which of their minions he was talking about.
"Gentlemen, please, back to the topic. Bottom line is: He has the potential to be a good addition to Atlantis. Am I right?" Elizabeth saw some of them nod to her words. "But…do you think he's a danger to this expedition? Do any of you think he has secondary goals here?"
"Do you think he's a NID agent?"
"No, Rodney. It seems unlikely and he doesn't fit their standard, but I can't let my judgment be clouded by sympathy. So I ask to all of you…what do you think of him?"
"He is capable of killing." When all the members looked at Ronon, he shrugged. "I can see it in his eyes. He is a warrior, not a killer."
"I agree. He is a bit lost though he is not a danger. He can handle himself well."
"Ronon and Teyla are right. The kid is a smartass and probably hiding something but he is trying to do his best in this situation."
"Uhfm…you want to keep him? Fine! Your pet project Sheppard, I don't want him near Atlantis' main systems and especially not the Chair!"
Elizabeth looked to all of them and let out a sigh.
"So…What job do we have for him?"
tbc
