The Flying Karamazov Brothers had nothing on Sheppard's and McKay's desperate scramble for the explosive. It was juggled between them briefly before Sheppard finally managed to get a firm grip on it. He was relieved to see the pin was still intact.

"Fun. No?" asked Zelenka, beaming.

"NO!" exclaimed the two sober men simultaneously.

Clutching his heart with one hand, McKay bent back to the doorlock.

"Stand here and don't move!" demanded Sheppard, positioning the Czech to the left of the door. "Any day now, Rodney."

"I'm going as fast…" He was cut off by a click and the heavy door swung open, slamming into Zelenka with a bang before bouncing back. The Czech stood frozen for a moment before keeling over backward.

"That's gonna leave a mark," said Sheppard with sympathy. He bent down and tapped the man on the forehead with his index finger. "Radek?"

The Czech's eyes flutter open. "Major Sheppard? What are you doing here?" True to Sheppard's prediction, there was a bright red mark now covering one side of his face.

John grinned at Rodney in relief. "We're rescuing you."

"Oh." He turned his head and gave McKay a lecherous smile. "I shall have to find a suitable reward."

"For Christ's sake…" began McKay, ripping the cloak off over his head. "It's me you freaking fornicating nut job." He and Sheppard each grabbed an arm, hauling the Czech forcefully to his feet and out the door. Sheppard paused a moment to jam his knife in the door lock before he and McKay began running towards the hill, half dragging Zelenka between them. The light from their flashlights zigzagged crazily in front of them as they headed for the safety of the jumper.

"Dr. Z, you are so going to owe me a bottle of Tylenol when all this is over," said Sheppard, practically carrying the scientist up the hill. They were only a little ahead of the Amazons.

He was extremely relieved a minute later to see Ford waiting for them. He waved them on encouragingly, "This way, Sir."

They all collapsed onto bench seats of the cloaked jumper as Ford hit the control to close the door. Sheppard was more than content to let Markham pilot the jumper home.

xxxxxxxxxx

"How much wine do you think he drank?" Beckett was grilling them about Zelenka's condition while Weir listened, their conversation occasionally punctuated by fits of giggles coming from the corner of the infirmary where Zelenka lay. Kavanagh had been no trouble at all, obeying without response as the nurse settled him into a bed. He had immediately fallen fast asleep. Radek on the other hand…

"I have no idea doc, at least a goblet full; probably a whole heck of a lot more before we found him."

"I see. And how did he come by that bruise on his face?"

"He, umm, I think he ran into a door, didn't he, Rodney?" The tone was innocent but the covert look he shot McKay demanded back up.

"Yes, Major, I…ah…I think you're right." McKay replied and looked slightly panic-stricken when Beckett squinted his eyes at him, obviously skeptical. "It was definitely a door," he confirmed, though not very convincingly. Luckily they were interrupted by a tremendous crash.

"Bloody Hell!" exclaimed Beckett, rushing to Zelenka who was now face down on the floor beside his bed flapping his arms and legs. He rolled the scientist over to discover blood dripping from his nose. "Radek, are you alright?"

"Nouch," exclaimed the bleeding man, though not very emphatically.

"Help me get him back into bed," he called to Sheppard, shaking his head. They took his arms and legs and hoisted him back into bed.

"Wheee!"

Sheppard righted the overturned medical cart as Beckett grabbed a few tissues and put them in Zelenka's hand and put his hand on his nose. "Hold…that…there," he said slowly and clearly, before disappearing into an infirmary cabinet.

When scientist tried to sit up, Sheppard placed one forefinger on his chest. It seemed to completely stymie the Czech's attempt to rise. "No hurry, Doc," he called. "I don't think there's much blood circulating above the waist, if you know what I mean."

"Here," said Beckett, tossing a piece of webbing to Sheppard.

"You want to strap him down?"

"Yes, yes," agreed the Czech eagerly.

"Just one across the middle should do it," Beckett said, taking Zelenka's hand away from his nose so he could check on the bleeding. He watched as Sheppard made short work of the strap. "Turn the buckle so it's under the bed frame. By the time he's sober enough to figure it out; it should be safe for him to get out of bed." He threw the now bloodied tissue into a nearby wastebasket and stood back with his hands on his hips to watch Radek's reaction. He sighed as the scientist's attempts to sit up continued unabated. The Czech seemed at a complete loss to figure out why he was unsuccessful.

"This could go on all night," observed Sheppard.

"I'd sedate him, but I don't really want to add anything else to his system."

"I've got an idea," he said with an evil grin before turning and motioning for Weir and McKay to join them, "Elizabeth, could you come here for a second?"

"Yes?" she inquired. McKay was looking on in amusement as his fellow Mensa member seemed completely unable to negotiate himself into a simple sitting position.

"Try telling Don Juan-incarnate here that it's time for bed," Sheppard suggested.

"John," Weir started to object, giving him an unpleasant look; but she saw the logic in the suggestion. "Radek?"

"Yes, mistress?" he asked, breathily.

"It's time for bed."

"Oh, YES, mistress," said the Czech excitedly.

Sheppard banged his forehead against the wall several times in an attempt to maintain control and McKay turned away, shoulders shaking. She shot a fierce look at Beckett who was suddenly overcome by a fascination with the ceiling.

"I mean it's time to sleep, Radek."

"Oh." His face became positively tragic. "If you say so, mistress."

"I do say so, Radek."

He obediently closed his eyes. They popped back open, "Are you sure, mistress? We could…"

"Sleep!" demanded Weir.

Zelenka closed his eyes again, within a few minutes was fast asleep. Sheppard had not uttered a sound during the entire exchange, but was shaking with silent laughter. Weir gave him a deadly look.

The next morning at breakfast, Sheppard was still enjoying his little joke on their leader. "Randy bastard," he chuckled. "Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer."

"One more word, John, and I'll make sure the official report includes a complete description of everything that happened."

McKay swallowed with difficulty, "Everything?"

"Right down to the little purple beads," she assured him, picking up her empty tray and leaving.

"It's not like the poor guy ever gets any on Atlantis," remarked Ford as he tidied up his own tray and prepared to leave.

"He's not the only one," said Sheppard.

McKay was shoving a forkful of something slightly green-gray into his mouth when he suddenly realized whom Sheppard was talking about. "Speak for yourself, Major," he said, slightly irate.

Ford chuckled and decided to leave before things escalated.

"I have no complaints in that area," replied Sheppard, smirking.

Rodney gave him a calculating look as he shoved the last bit of mystery meat into his mouth. He decided not to take the bait. "I think I'll visit Radek in the infirmary before I go back to the lab."

"Picking up some pointers?" Sheppard asked, still trying to get a rise out of the scientist.

"Have you considered that Dr. Zelenka might not have enjoyed the experience as much as you seem to think he did?" asked Teyla, tired of their antics.

"Oh, I think he was having a pretty good time," Sheppard said, hiding a grin by biting into his roll.

"You didn't see him, Teyla," agreed McKay as he stood up. He took his empty tray back to the kitchen area and then made a quick detour to the infirmary where he found Beckett's latest patient awake and reading through a report. Kavanagh, several beds away, snored softly into a puddle of drool on his pillow.

"How do you feel, Radek?"

"Tired."

"Really? I wonder why?" he snorted.

Zelenka responded with a small weak smile. It suddenly occurred him that Teyla might have been right about Zelenka after all. Having been made a prisoner and drugged into a submissive brothel participant might not be all it was cracked up to be without the benefit of a hazy, drug-induced spin on the situation. "Here, I brought you your glasses." He handed the now clean spectacles over.

"Děkuji vam," said the scientist, absently settling them on his nose. "Much better," he agreed, immersing himself in the report again.

"Beckett says you'll be out of here tomorrow. I thought we could work on the idea you had about the jumper engines?" McKay sighed when the scientist didn't respond. He watched as Zelenka continued to read, absently bending a paperclip back and forth until it snapped from metal fatigue "Radek? Did you hear me?"

"Rodney, can I ask you something? And you will be honest, yes?"

"Yes, of course," he said, subdued. He was just realizing he was probably the closest thing to a friend Zelenka had here on Atlantis, despite their bickering. Looking around, he leaned closer so the scientist could unburden himself in privacy. "What is it?"

"Why do you smell like Dr. Heightmeyer's bubble bath?" asked the Czech.

"What? Oh. There was this skunk-thing and I…." McKay suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Wait a minute, how do you know what Kate's bubble bath smells like?

Radek leaned back in bed, clasping his hands behind his head and smirking. "A gentleman never tells."

AN: It was Radek's turn for a little R & R, don't you think?

Credits:

Along with being my long-suffering beta'er, Nebbyjen also let me borrow her ideas for the boys in drag as well as the image of Wraith shopping at their local mall's Goth store for tight black outfits :-)

B7-kerravon is responsible for giving me the idea for the story in the first place (so blame her, it's all her fault! ;-). Our conversation started out as which Atlantis characters would cross over as "Blake's 7" characters. No one seemed to fit the role of Avon, though I thought Kavanagh was one of the few on Atlantis who had a high enough self-preservation factor. This disintegrated into a mental picture of Kavanagh in Avon's favorite attire - black leather. (Ewe!) Things went quickly downhill from there. She also deserves credit for teaching me the word "vizor" which came in very handy.

Also, I'm not sure who originally came up with the idea that Zelenka was a revenuer, but thanks to him/her (and Koschka for making it so popular).

Last but not least, "Amazon Women on the Moon" is the title of infamously bad sci-fi movie.

P.S. Oops, didn't realize Stackhouse didn't have the gene, thanks Patti !