Chapter 38

Why hadn't he thought of it before?

Rodney's head snapped up from the workstation where he'd fallen asleep with the idea still fresh in his mind. It was brilliant...of course.

The sonic cannon.

They still had it stored up at the top of the jumper bay. It wasn't fully operational anymore, and it would need to be moved into position, but they could do it in a matter of hours rather than the weeks it might take the Daedalus to make its almost prehistorically slow journey across the galaxy to rescue their people.

He tapped his earpiece. 'Elizabeth, I think I have that other option you wanted. Meet me in the jumper bay.'

It took longer than usual for her to respond, then when she did she acknowledged his call in a rather sleepy voice. He checked his watch. 01.32 am. Ah, that could explain it. But when she asked for details of what exactly the option was, he didn't answer. He was far too busy contacting a jumper pilot and punching Zelenka's arm to wake him up to tell her something she could find out once she got to the jumper bay anyway.

He bodily hauled Zelenka from his seat where he too had fallen asleep and called for Sergeant Jeffries to join them up in the heights of the control tower. Within minutes he and the rather confused and ruffled looking Czech were emerging from a transporter into the jumper bay and darting up the few flights of stairs that took them to the sonic cannon's current resting place.

'Okay...time to figure out exactly how this baby works,' Rodney grinned clapping his hands together and rubbing them with glee.

'Baby?' Zelenka lifted his eyebrows and peered at him over his glasses.

Rodney supposed Zelenka couldn't help not getting the cool talk. He did spend most of his time in the lab and not out in the field with the military types. He'd picked a lot up from hanging out with Sheppard that the rest of the science team missed out on...although, come to think of it, Sheppard had given him a pretty similar look the last time he'd called something baby...

'Rodney, I'm here...where are you?' he heard Elizabeth's voice ask shortly afterwards, and he peered over the railings to call down to her in the lower level just as Jeffries arrived beside her, still zipping up his jacket. Her hair was mused up and Rodney briefly thought he should get her up in the middle of the night more often because it looked kind of sexy before reminding himself she was his boss and thoughts like that were considered inappropriate.

'Up here!'

They both looked up to see where he was, then headed to the stairs so they could join him. He stood leaning his hand against the side of the sonic cannon, watching them approach. He knew he was looking smug, but he didn't care. He'd come up with a solution. He deserved a little self-congratulation, and any congratulations they wanted to send his way, too.

After a pause in which a frown etched its way onto her forehead, Elizabeth at last responded. 'You want to use this?' she asked, giving the cannon a wary once-over. 'I thought we decommissioned it.'

'Yes, but I can bring it back on-line again,' he smirked. 'And we know how powerful this thing is. It'll take out anything near the 'gate on Karafus if we fire it through the event horizon.'

'The Genii use projectile weapons...nothing electronic. How will this help?' she asked.

'Well it may not damage their weapons, but it'll knock out the people holding them, thus rendering the situation on Karafus safe for us to proceed.'

She nodded, seeing his point. He forgave her the momentary slowness since she'd clearly only just woken up.

'But I thought we didn't know how to use the cannon. That was why we dismantled the workings in the first place, wasn't it?' Jeffries pointed out.

Rodney sighed. Usually he was the natural pessimist, but it seemed he had competition today. 'Yes, but while Zelenka and I are working on getting it up and running, someone – and by that I mean you, Elizabeth – could go to Ipsolan and persuade the Atrascans to let us know how it works.'

Her eyes widened. 'I see. And you think they're gonna just hand that information over because I ask them nicely.'

'Well, we did help to re-home them before the Wraith attacked and culled them all.'

'After calling the Wraith down on them in the first place,' she pointed out, folding her arms and blinking in an exaggerated manner at him.

'Yes, but that was ultimately their fault. They forced our hand,' he countered, refusing to let her rain on his parade.

Elizabeth just arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 'That may be true, but I'm not sure they'll see it that way.'

This time his patience snapped. 'You know what...you're right!' he barked. 'There's no way they'll consider helping us. So we should just sit here and wait for the Daedalus to turn up in...how long was it again?'

'All right, Rodney. I get your point,' she growled. 'I'll speak to the Atrascans, but don't expect me back any time soon.'

'As long as it's sooner than fourteen days we haven't really lost out, right?' he said, giving her a lop-sided smile to ease the tension.

Her expression remained cool. 'Let's hope not.'

Rodney sighed inwardly. Why was nothing he did ever good enough? He was handing her a solution that would definitely work and all she could do was pick fault with it.

'So why am I here?' Jeffries asked, interrupting his moment of self-pity.

'Because I need you to use a jumper to help lower the cannon into the gate room.'

'Isn't that jumping the gun?' the man asked, frowning at him while stifling a yawn.

Rodney harrumphed. Why was everyone else around him so short-sighted? Did he have to spoon-feed the whole plan to them? 'Well, you could call it that. I prefer to look at it as the most efficient use of time. While Elizabeth is negotiating, Zelenka and I will work on the cannon down in the gate room and then the moment it is operational and we can dial in, we can use it.'

'It is the best use of time,' Zelenka yawned, scratching at his hair, and blinking his heavy lids as he swayed sleepily beside him.

McKay looked around at the exhausted faces gathered there and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. What was wrong with these people? He'd only had five hours sleep in the past forty-eight hours and he was still capable of thinking a way through their current predicament. They seriously needed to pop a pep pill.

'He's right, Sergeant,' Elizabeth agreed. 'It will save time once I have the Atrascans' assistance secured. Do it.'

'Yes, Ma'am,' he immediately agreed. 'What do you need me to do, Dr McKay?'

'Well, it'll take Zelenka and I a few minutes to rig up a hoist around the cannon, then we'll need you to lift up the jumper so we can hook it up underneath it and you can lower it down in front of the Stargate. Just don't set it down so close to the gate it gets evaporated the moment we dial out.'

Jeffries blinked back at him, his expression a little hard to read. 'I'm no genius like you guys, McKay, but I think even I could have figured that much out.'

What was his problem? He'd asked what he wanted him to do and he'd told him to the letter. Was he expected to be psychic now? Sometimes they wanted him to spell out every details and sometimes they didn't. How was he supposed to know which approach to use? 'What? Yes...yes I'm sure you would have,' he said dismissively, shuffling away while mentally listing all the components he needed for the hoist.

'So, I've got time for a coffee, right?' Jeffries called after him.

Rodney turned his way, waiting as the man yawned again before answering. 'Yes...if you must. As long as you get one for me, too.'

The pilot huffed out a laugh and trudged away, muttering something about slaves and dying that Rodney didn't quite catch.

'Good work, Rodney,' Elizabeth told him now as he tried to walk away again. 'I'll do my best to be back by the time you have this thing up and running.'

'I'm sure you will,' he grunted, heading off again to gather supplies, Zelenka at his heels.

Once again, he had been forced to save the day. Honestly, he sometimes wondered what the expedition would do without him.

oooOOOooo

None of what he was watching came as any real surprise to Kolya. He'd always suspected that Sarayah's arrival at his doorstep had been more for her benefit that his...that she was somehow playing him to get to Sheppard...and that those reasons she'd given for wanting to get to the man weren't as straight forward as she'd claimed.

Sheppard had done well to hide the truth when he'd mentioned the relationship these two had supposedly shared. His reaction had given nothing away. He'd almost believed that he really had used and then abandoned her. Almost. But one thing he had learned about Sheppard was that whilst he was willing to be underhand with people whom he perceived were being dishonest with him, he had an ingrained sense of honour that meant it was doubtful he would ever have treated an honest woman the way she'd described. Which had led him to deduce she was being less than honest with him.

He watched her force the blindfold onto the man now, treating him like a frightened animal. And Sheppard was frightened, that much was obvious. More frightened than Kolya would have believed possible. The man had faced a Wraith feeding with more composure than she left him with. This woman got deep under his skin in ways Kolya could only dream about. Her actions were sheer poetry, undoing Sheppard's dignity and defences with every touch...every word.

And despite this, he felt the urge to rescue the man from her. Why was that? Sheppard was responsible for the deaths of too many Genii already, and had been fundamental in his fall from power. Why should he feel any empathy for him?

The leering grin he saw split Sarayah's face as she poured yet more of his drink down Sheppard's throat gave him the answer. It was because she wasn't doing this for any other purpose than the fact she enjoyed it.

He knew Sheppard hadn't believed him when he'd said that first Wraith feeding wasn't personal, but it really hadn't been. Sheppard had been chosen for two reasons; to use as leverage to get to Ladon and to drive a wedge between the Atlanteans and Ladon's Genii. And although he supposed this time there might be a little personal pleasure to be had in seeing the man squirm, what Sarayah was doing was bringing them no closer to success with their project. She hadn't once mentioned stopping if he agreed to activate the device. She intended to gain nothing more than Sheppard's complete humiliation and her own satisfaction.

He watched Sarayah smother the man with kisses and caresses, the kind of intimate touches usually reserved for those consenting to a physical liaison. But Sheppard wasn't consenting. Sheppard was thrashing against his restraints to the point they had cut into his skin. It made uncomfortable viewing, even for him.

Then again, Kolya had to wonder why Sheppard was so set against this woman using him this way. He was a red-blooded male in the prime of his life; it struck Kolya as odd that he would be so determined not to take advantage of this woman's interest in him. They had to have a history that was more troubling than anything he'd thus far picked up on. She was a pretty girl, if somewhat eccentric and cruel. Back in his younger days he would have felt flattered to have the attentions of someone so attractive. In fact, if she'd used her charms to earn his support with this current plan he wouldn't have said no. But personal favours had not been necessary. The Lantean device and the invitation to help her gain revenge against a lover who had spurned her and just happened to be his most hated adversary had been incentive enough.

So, since she'd obviously lied about the Atlantean's mistreatment of her Kolya supposed he should go in there and stop her.

Sheppard was cursing now, telling her nothing she did would change him. That he would never let her use the 'gate the way she wanted to. Interesting. So what was it she had in mind? A little power play of her own? She was only one woman; no matter where she gated to she couldn't do much damage alone...although she had displayed a propensity for carnage that had impressed him so far. Such a small package to wreak so much mayhem...

The woman was circling Sheppard now, slipping off her jacket, taunting him with touches and blows and cuts to his clothing he couldn't see coming, and each time the threat of his undoing grew more and more intense. She was flushed with excitement and need as she grasped a handful of his hair and tugged his head back so she could expose his neck and bite it so hard he yelled out. An uneasy feeling churned in Kolya's gut. He had to make a decision. He either had to bring an end to this or allow it to go on with his unspoken blessing. Could his conscience handle that?

On the screen, Sarayah cut another hole in Sheppard's uniform, exposing his thigh. The man almost sliced his hands off with his bonds trying to free himself as her fingers slid inside it. As Sheppard turned the air blue once again, Kolya averted his gaze from the screen. He needed Sheppard compliant, and the Wraith had done little to break his spirit. This woman had succeeded in rattling him in less time than he spent on his morning ablutions. Whatever her intentions were, he could use this to his own advantage.

The decision was made; he would allow her to continue.

Hopefully the Ancestors would forgive him.

oooOOOooo

Sheppard knew the drink was taking hold when the only thought to spring to mind as Sarayah sank her teeth into him again was whether his tetanus shot was up to date. Like that was his biggest concern right now.

She let go of him and his head lolled forward. He found himself chuckling at the absurdity of his train of thought, something that apparently didn't impress her.

'Do you think this is funny, John?' she demanded.

He forced the smile back off his face. 'Not really, no. I'd say this ranks pretty low on my list of fun things to do.'

'That's because the fun hasn't really started yet,' she promised him, taking hold of the hem of his right pants leg and slowly dissecting it until that cut met with the one she'd done earlier. He could feel the air on his skin, his follicles prickling. A few more slices and it would be bye-bye to what remained of his BDUs and so long to any chance of maintaining his modesty.

'Perhaps that smile means you're relaxing after all?' She sounded genuinely hopeful, not that he worried about bursting that particular bubble for her. His stomach lurched as she climbed back onto his lap, deliberately pressing her body hard against his. He could feel she'd shed her jacket and was down to the little tank top she wore beneath it as she stroked at his body. For a second the thought of her wearing something like that gave him a pleasing mental picture...exactly what he didn't need in his head right now. So he filled his mind with a different thought – the recollection of Rodney stuffing his face with spaghetti and meatballs as fast as his hands could move after they were late back from a mission a few months back. No one at the table had escaped the splashes of pasta sauce as he'd troughed his way through the vast plateful in record time, leaving the rest of them decidedly off their dinners.

It worked; any urges the heat and pressure of her body had awoken were now well and truly overridden. The tension left him.

Sarayah seemed to sense the response that had been building slipping away. She grasped his face between her palms and planted a hard kiss on him, one she refused to break. He couldn't turn his head, couldn't squirm out of her grip, couldn't even tell her where to go in any meaningful way, though he did try. She just kissed him long and firm until she forced his mouth to give way beneath hers and reciprocate just to alleviate the discomfort. Unfortunately, that didn't stop her, quite the opposite in fact. She kept on kissing him, her skin growing damp with perspiration born of excitement as she writhed on top of him.

Then it happened.

His body gave the first throb of arousal.

Crap!

She felt it – he knew she did. She gasped against his mouth, faltering for just a second, then continuing to work on him, her tongue probing deep into his mouth until he felt about to gag. But that didn't stop his body betraying him, his blood rushing to supply his growing need and leaving his head spinning. It was a reaction he had no control over, just a physical reaction to the contact, no conscious thought required. But he knew she wouldn't see it that way. In her twisted little mind he had now signalled that she was getting things right. It was the green light she needed at that subconscious, nice Sarayah level.

For a second or two his focus slipped and he lost himself in the sensations, falling into memories of nights spent with Nancy...long nights going on into the following dawn. He remembered her hair falling over both their faces as they kissed each other until they could barely breathe, her groans as his hands found areas that both taunted and delighted her, the softness of her curves, her damp skin glistening in the early morning light...

And then he remembered that this wasn't Nancy.

This was Sarayah and he didn't want her.

He pulled hard against his bonds, crying out under her mouth as they sliced even deeper. He could feel warm rivulets slithering down his hands and dripping from his fingertips and for the briefest moment he felt relieved most of his blood was heading elsewhere so he wouldn't bleed out too heavily. Yet another random thought firing through his alcohol addled brain, anything rather than thinking about how messed up this was. He really wasn't getting out of this this time...

She crushed her mouth harder over his and squirmed in his lap. This time he was the one left gasping as her motions ground against him, forcing more of a reaction than he'd ever hoped to give her. She leaned back very briefly and when she pulled him in to the next kiss she was minus the tank top too. He couldn't think about that, couldn't think about the sensation of her skin pressed in against his, her toned body writhing on top of him...Oh, God, that really wasn't helping...

'So now I know what you like,' she whispered against his lips. He could feel her lascivious grin even if he couldn't see it, feel her sweat and saliva on mouth, the heat from her body, the pounding of her heart. Who the hell got this much of a kick out of non-consensual groping?

His brain thankfully took the opportunity to remind him of exactly the sort of person who got a kick out of it. Now, in his mind's eye, it wasn't Sarayah fondling him, it was Senator Laurel, his nicotine–stained teeth bared in a fierce grin, and his bony, wasted hands wandering to places they really didn't belong.

His ardour disappeared almost instantly. Seemed like that blindfold was a blessing after all...except it didn't allow him to prepare for the punch Sarayah threw when he started laughing again. Stars flashed in the blackness, and the taste of blood sat bitter on his tongue. She jumped off him and he listened hard to try to work out where she was. It was too much to hope that she'd gone, wasn't it?

When she pulled his head back against the chair and pressed her knife to his throat he realised it was.

'Is this just a game to you, John? Are you mocking me?' she rasped, close to his ear.

'No!' he croaked. 'No game!'

'So why are you laughing?'

'I don't know...I just...I don't –'

Before he could even finish his sentence the knife was gone and she'd tugged his head to the side so she could kiss his neck unimpeded. He couldn't stifle his whimper at her sudden change of tack. The violence was so much more bearable...

'What are you trying to do to me?' he asked. 'I don't understand what you're hoping to gain from this.'

'Shhh,' she whispered against his skin, dropping soft kisses along his strained tendons. 'Quiet now.'

'I don't even know which one of you I'm dealing with anymore,' he said, laughing again at the strangeness of that thought.

'Stop laughing,' she growled, tugging his head sideways even further until it became almost intolerably painful.

'I'm trying not to,' he strained out. But I'm scared and my mouth is on auto-pilot!

Thankfully, she released her grip on him.

There was a worrying silence then, leaving him afraid of what she was planning to do next. But when she spoke he realised she hadn't moved at all. 'I don't hear another voice anymore. Does that answer your question?'

'Uh, no...just leaves me with a whole lot more...'

She didn't reply.

He listened again, trying to fathom out where she was now. She was angry. He could tell from the rhythm of her breathing. Anger was good. Anger he could handle. Anger was something he could feed.

'Don't take it too personally,' he said, trying to keep the slur from his speech. 'I's not like you can help bein' a complete turn-off. I'm jus' not into women who are one fry short of a Happy Meal, s'all.'

She punched him again, connecting hard with his jaw and making his brain rattle. The alcohol thankfully cushioned him from the worst of the pain, though.

'Enough talk,' she hissed, pretty much jumping on him and knocking the wind right out of him.

'Oh, but we never really talk anymore,' he wheezed out. 'Where did the romance go...you know, when a man and a woman got to know one another...enjoyed conversations and days out before diving headlong into psychotic obsession?'

She had her face right in front of his; he could feel her breath against his lips and hear her ragged panting at close proximity. She kept him like that for a while, most likely trying to unnerve him. Shame he was too drunk to care.

She broke her silence. 'Which one would you like me to be?' she asked very, very quietly.

His inebriated brain couldn't follow this new twist in their conversation. 'Huh?'

'Which Sarayah would you prefer me to be?' she clarified. 'Do you like it slow and gentle, or hard and fast?'

'I'd prefer to be on a beach in Maui surfing...is that an option?' he chuckled.

She grabbed his face and squeezed hard. 'No more jokes unless you want me to choose for you...or maybe they both deserve a turn. We're game if you are.'

'No...no, I think I'll pass...' he grunted.

'Maybe a little more persuasion would help you make up your mind?'

'Well, far be it from me to turn down a free drink,' he quipped. Make it enough to knock me out...please!

She leaned to the right, apparently having left the bottle close to the chair. He could hear the liquid sloshing around inside it as she straightened up again.

'Do I have to force you, or are you going to take it willingly?' she asked, placing the bottle rim against his lips.

He didn't answer, just opened his mouth and let her tip it in...though he hadn't anticipated quite how much she intended to give him. And when he started to baulk, she just kept pouring.

'Might as well finish the bottle,' she chirped, a sentiment he heartily agreed with even when he felt like he was about to choke. Even choking to death was better than the alternative on offer.

Though blindfolded, he could tell his equilibrium was now way off when he straightened his head again and felt like he'd left his brain resting on the back of the chair. Last time he'd felt a little dizzy, but this time the imbalance remained, his brain seeming to melt and slosh around like the booze in that bottle as he tried to form clear thoughts...he really was convinced he could feel it turning to mush inside his skull.

'Have you chosen now?' she demanded, dropping the bottle to the floor and shattering it.

His brain conjured up two images of Sarayah – one dressed as a sexy nun, the other wearing a sassy little devil costume. Oh, boy. What a choice...He fought with the silly smirk trying to break out on his face because this wasn't funny...really not funny at all.

She climbed up onto him again and this time he could feel she had removed even more of her clothing, the warm skin of her thighs brushing against his as she settled in his lap again. 'Come on, John. I'm going to need an answer or I will choose for you,' she whispered against his ear.

What had the first option been...slow and gentle? Yeah, slow and gentle sounded good...real good...

'S...slow...' he managed to mumble, his brain barely able to form even that one word. Oh, yeah. He'd always preferred it slow...

Her mouth met his, not forceful this time but tauntingly soft in its contact. He let her tease him for a few moments, his mind drifting away from this horrible situation to fantasies he'd kept suppressed about a certain Athosian he'd been working with for a while now.

'...it you like this then?'

He had no idea how that question had started as he'd apparently lost consciousness for a few seconds. How should he answer that? If he was honest this was kind of nice, though somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind he had a feeling he should be fighting. Ah, what the hell. He couldn't stop her if he wanted to, so he might as well just go with the flow...Wait! Had he actually just thought that? Wow, that drink was good stuff. She was going to screw his brains out and he didn't give a damn...did he...?

A sharp slap helped him focus for a few seconds again. 'Stay with me, John!' she squawked, her knife now cutting at the waist of what remained of his pants.

'Hey...no fair...you definitely used...the word...gentle...' he mumbled, his consciousness drifting again.

Another slap and his blindfold was torn away, not that it made a huge difference. He still couldn't see straight. Probably best considering the woman standing over him was wearing very little and was pretty hot. Jeez, what the hell? She was a monster...a very sexy monster...but he absolutely could not set the monster part aside because she was easy... on the...eyes...

This time it was water splashing on his head that woke him. He sputtered and spat and managed to stay conscious long enough to see Sarayah was pouring two canteens of water over him.

'You knew this would happen,' she screeched. 'You knew I'd given you too much!'

'Damn straight,' he snorted. 'Never have been able to perform when I'm this far gone. Got me in...trouble...with my...wife...more...tha...

He came to next with her tongue in his mouth and her hands in places he really didn't want to think about and was glad he could barely feel anything anymore. He refused to think about what she was doing to him, something that was easier than usual since random thoughts kept popping into his head...like the fact Rodney was going to give him grief for days about this if he ever found out. He already had him labelled as a Kirk...

His head slammed against the back of the seat and woke him to the feeling of Sarayah's hands now grasping his face. 'I'm not letting you do this!' she screeched, kissing him hard as if the increased pressure and pain would somehow keep him conscious. But he was slipping, he could feel it. Very soon he would lose consciousness and she wouldn't be able to rouse him...

PAIN!

Now Sarayah had taken her knife to his barely healed bicep and dug the point in.

'Argghh! What the hell...?'

'You will stay with me...I'll make you.'

'By... cutting me...to pieces?' he half-laughed, crying out again as she twisted the knife tip in his arm.

'If I have to,' she threatened.

It made no difference. The blackness encroached, a welcome smothering blanket as Sarayah screamed a primal cry of sheer frustration and dug that knife point into a new spot on his arm, determined to keep him awake. No way could she make a difference...there was no stopping it now. Painful or not, he was losing the battle to stay awake...at last...

...which unfortunately meant whether he survived this night in one piece or not was now completely out of his hands...

A/N: Oh dear...Sheppard's survival is not only out of his hands, but now in Sarayah's. Not a good way to be. Thanks to those of you still reading and reviewing. Your support in, as always, very much appreciated. :)