UNDER GLASS
By NotTasha

CHAPTER 6: CRISPY BACON

Sheppard had moved back toward the console when Teyla contacted them, giving them news that darts could come through the Gate. "Great," he'd muttered, as he paced about. "Stay with the original plan. Our best bet is if you can dial out before they can get in. If you fail that, get out of there."

"We will attempt to bring down the darts," Teyla declared.

"You will hightail it out of the way."

Teyla added, "The fewer darts there are to contend with, the better chance you and Dr. McKay will stand. We know how they are coming, and they believe we do not have this knowledge. We can use this against them."

McKay, who had crouched down over his pack, looked up. "Makes sense to me!" he declared.

With a tired groan, Sheppard came back with, "Don't do anything stupid." He paused, realizing he hadn't heard from someone. "Ronon?"

It was Teyla who responded with, "He is busy. He has an idea."

"What's he doing?" John probed.

"I am uncertain. I will have him report in when he is available."

"Great. Have him do that. Sheppard out." The transmission over, Sheppard paced back toward McKay who was pawing through is pack, searching. "How 'bout you? You got an idea?" John asked hopefully.

"Yes," McKay responded, and sighed as he pulled forth what he was looking for – a sandwich.

"We don't have time. McKay, come on. We need a plan."

"I get shaky when I'm hungry!" McKay shot back, sitting his rump down as clutched the wrapped parcel. "Been getting rather woozy. I'm hypoglycemic and I don't think well on an empty stomach."

Sheppard tsked as he walked about.

"And you got me all worked up at the briefing," McKay went on.

"About what?"

"Waffles," McKay returned. "With real maple syrup -- from Quebec, of course." And his eyes took on a far away quality as he recalled the treat. "Syrup, daintily filling the waffle boxes, with a big blob of butter in the center, all melty and warm." And he sighed, looking at his sandwich with a little less enthusiasm. "I haven't had waffles in so long. They're the best. Especially with a big cup of coffee and crispy-crisp bacon on the side."

Sheppard smiled, "Yeah, and some sausage, toast with jam, and a big cup of orange juice." He paused, remembering. "Oh yeah, no orange juice."

At that thought, before McKay could pull the sandwich clear of the wrapper, he dropped it into his pack as if it had bit him.

"What?" Sheppard asked.

"You think that… citrus stuff is still around? If the Wraiths or their groupies cleaned up this whole place with that ooky jenfruit crap, it must be over everything. I've been … touching… the walls." He rooted through pockets of his pack until he found his packet of wet-wipes. He pulled one loose and proceeded to wipe down his hands, and then pulled another to quickly pat down his face. He used one more for good measure. He glared at Sheppard as he worked. "I can't be too careful," he declared. "Jen could kill me even if I just touched one! Bet if I even looked it, my throat would swell up instantly."

"Hurry it up, Rodney. I can't do anything until you give me a clue."

McKay had made his way to his neck, wiping furiously, turning his head to get in at a good angle. "I could die, just like…"

"… That?" Sheppard completed.

But McKay had paused. "That…" he finally stated, "That, looks like a panel." His demeanor completely changed. He dropped the packet of wipes after the forgotten sandwich and pulled out a new tool and reached toward a section of the wall inside his cubicle.

Oh, yes. John smiled, seeing their release at hand. The colonel realized he never would have seen the panel, right at floor level in the alcove. It had blended seamlessly with the walls, but McKay had somehow differentiated it from the rest of the panels and popped it off in an instant. "That's a surprise," Sheppard drawled.

"Well," McKay responded, trying to sound philosophical. "The panel isn't where it's supposed to be."

"Wait a minute. You said that there wasn't one in there," John taunted. "You'd said that there was 'nothing' in that alcove."

"When I said 'nothing'," McKay told him, "I meant that they had put nothing where I expected it to be."

"So, you were wrong."

"No, not wrong. Just momentarily mistaken, and hello…" He grinned up at Sheppard, opening a hand to point out the exposed panel. "I'm not the only one who missed it. From the looks of it, the Wraith missed it, too."

"Well, get with it," Sheppard responded, relieved as hell that he wasn't the one left responsible for pulling off the trick. He didn't relish the idea of going back to the control panel and the Wraith tech. The fact that touching the stuff put an electric shock through McKay didn't sit very well with him either. "Get us out of here."

"Hmmm, well, yes, I will," McKay replied, poking about in the lit crystals – so much prettier than the creepy looking stuff under the panel.

As he walked around the room, Sheppard listened to McKay's self-congratulatory sounds as he puttered about. Was Rodney actually humming as he worked? "We're running out of time, McKay," John commented, glancing to his watch.

"That isn't helping!" McKay shot back.

"I don't want to be just sitting around waiting while the Wraith are amassing on the other end of that wormhole."

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Humph!" And the humming stopped as the scientist seemed to be paying more attention to getting the work done than to telling himself how smart he was. After a minute, he had his data-tablet out, and then wired into the wall.

"You done yet?"

"Working on it! It's a miracle the computer survived that electric shock. It could have been fried like bacon. I'm just sayin'."

A nervous glance at this watch, and Sheppard ordered, "Work faster. You have five minutes."

"Five minutes?" McKay looked up from his data-tablet. "No way has 32 minutes passed already! I'm thinking 15, tops!"

"You have five minutes before I shoot through that door, reach in and strangle you!"

"Great… great… threaten me with violence. It's the military way."

"Get it done or we're both going to die." Sheppard kept his pacing, watching as McKay connected another line.

"There… this should do it. Hang on." He poking away at the screen. "Yes, that should do it. I am accessing the command codes for the room and -- got it!" He smiled grandly, pressing a finger to a key as he confidently pointed to his door with his other hand and said, "Ta dah!"

With a whoosh… the door opened. But not the one they'd expected. Sheppard turned, looking over his shoulder to the exit – daylight streamed in. The glass doors on the compartments remained firmly down.

McKay stared through his door to the other. His mouth dropped open to match. For an instant, he said nothing, until finally, he cleared his throat. "Okay, well, that's good. We needed to open that." He smiled toward Sheppard. "See, I got that one open."

"Great," Sheppard answered, making his way to gaze out into the open. "Can you shut it again?"

"Shut it? But I just opened it!" McKay shot back, running a hand against his forehead. "I'm having trouble working here and I managed that. It's a pretty impressive accomplishment."

"Can you shut it and keep it locked down?"

"Yes, but…" McKay sputtered. "What's the point of that? We need it open so that we can get out, so that we can go home!"

"If the Wraith come, I'd like a little extra barrier between us. Can you lock them out?"

McKay considered this for a moment, and nodded. He yawned as he typed. "It must be on its own circuit, separate from the control panel." He nodded. "Give me a minute."

"We don't have many," Sheppard told him.

"Yes, let's remind me of that!" A few more taps and the door came back down. "Locked," McKay declared triumphantly, blinking at him. "From the inside this time."

"You can get it back up again when we need it, right?" Sheppard asked caustically.

"Of course."

"Okay, then get your door open and we'll be good to go."

"Swell," McKay replied and yawned. Resting his head against the narrow wall, he went back to work at the computer.

Sheppard continued making a slow circle in the room, watching the scientist's movements as he worked. McKay seemed to be moving slower, almost lethargically. "McKay?" he prompted. "This is a bad time to fall asleep."

"Working – working here," Rodney responded. "I think I need to drink more water because my eyesight is getting a bit blurry."

"We don't have time for you to root around in your pack, McKay."

"I got one hell of a headache coming on. My eyes feel all sticky. Those are signs of dehydration, aren't they?" Suddenly his gaze shifted, he seemed to be focusing out into nowhere. "Oh God!" he croaked.

"Rodney?"

"I think… I think…Oh…" He fumbled to find his scanner. He poked at the controls for a moment, and his face crumbled in absolute misery. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"What?!" John strode back toward the little cell.

"Everyone makes fun of the claustrophobic man! Everyone laugh at the guy who's afraid to get stuck in small spaces! Everyone thinks I'm crazy because I don't like being in little tiny impossibly small…"

Frustrated, John leaned closer to the glassed in box. "Rodney, now is not the time. Listen, just get that door open and we'll…"

McKay gaped, looking rather like a fish on a riverbank, as he looked about anxiously. "The oxygen... I... I'm running out."

"Teyla!" Ronon barked as he rolled a big spool from the doorway of one of the buildings.

Teyla glanced to the sign above the door – mining supplies. "What is that?" she asked as she stood with her hands still over the DHD.

"Cable," Ronon responded. He leaned to unhook the end of the thick wire from the spool to leave it dangle at the doorway to the office. He kicked the reel and it unspooled as it rolled into the street. Even before it left the walkway and thumped into the street, he'd ducked back through the doorway to emerge with another spool. "Help me with this," he demanded.

"I cannot leave the DHD," Teyla told him, watching curiously as he let loose the cable from the second spool and kicked it into the street as well. It rolled further than the first, leaving a line of cable behind. "What are you doing?"

"They trap us. We trap them," Ronon shouted as he ducked into the office again, and retrieving a third spool in the same way. "Come here," he called as the cable unwrapped under the force of his boot.

"I cannot."

"You got a 50/50 chance of dialing faster."

"Yes," Teyla agreed.

"Odds might be less though," Ronon went on, jogging into the street to send the spools further along their course. "Probably less."

Not wanting to admit it, Teyla told him, "It is worth the try."

"When I don't like the odds, I change 'em," Dex stated as he moved quickly at his task. "You gonna help me?"

Teyla stood a moment longer at her post, watching Ronon as he brought the spools to the far side of the street, and she left the DHD to join him.

"I'm going to suffocate!" Rodney cried.

"Calm down, Rodney!" Sheppard shouted.

"Calm down, he says," Rodney whimpered. "I'm going to die from oxygen deprivation and he says calm down. Oh, I'm going to die! It's not as if I don't have enough means of getting killed here." His voice rose as he went on. "First there was that death march. Next, they try to kill me by anaphylactic shock from that horrible, wretched jenfruit. But that's not enough. No! You almost fried me up like bacon with that good old-fashioned electric shock. Can't have too many different types of shock, can we? Oh, but then there's the Wraith. Oh joy, the chance of getting my life forced sucked right out of me." He demonstrated, clamping a hand to his own chest. "The fact that they're coming is enough to give any man a heart attack! But no! It won't be any of those because they're going to kill me by suffocating me! It's SO NOT FAIR!"

Sheppard slammed an open palm against the plate. "RODNEY! Focus! You doing nothing but using up air! Find a way to open the door!"

"Find a way? You find it for a change!"

"Rodney! Fix it! Now! Or we're both going to get killed here."

"Working on it," McKay snapped back, and dropped the scanner as he went back to the data-tablet.

Sheppard activated his radio to follow up with the others. "Teyla! What's going on there?"

He waited, watching McKay work inside the little booth. The scientist was leaned against one wall, hunched, tapping away on the screen.

"Teyla! Ronon!"

Another pause, and finally, Ronon's brusque voice came over the radio. "We're busy."

Closing his eyes in misery, Sheppard went on, "Tell me, someone is at the DHD."

"We are dealing with it," Ronon returned.

"Where's Teyla?"

"Her hands are full at the moment. We'll get back to you. Gotta go."

"Ronon!"

And the transmission ended.

"Great! I have a mutiny!" He scrutinized McKay, realizing that he really wasn't looking good. Leave it to Rodney to get stuck inside an airless box when they needed to get moving. Leave it to him to get himself killed in this horrible pointless way.

They had maybe five minutes before the wormhole collapsed – and he had no idea what Ronon and Teyla were up to now. They had five minutes before Wraith darts came screaming at them, and he doubted that main door would hold them back.

And even if it did, McKay had only so much time before …

Pulling his sidearm, Sheppard took a step back. McKay, seeing the movement, lifted his head. His eyes became alert as he saw the gun. "Colonel?" he called urgently. "What? What're you doing?"

"Gonna get you out."

McKay's eyes grew wider as he watched Sheppard's stance. "You're going to shoot the glass? You do realize I am behind it, don't you? Think of all the flying glass and – the bullet! I mean, I scar very easily! A paper-cut puts me in agony. This is a bad idea! A very bad idea! Test it out somewhere else before you start using me as your guinea pig!"

With a disgusted look, Sheppard aimed the gun at the empty alcove door next to McKay's, and fired. Instantly, Sheppard jumped, stumbled and swore as the ricochet came back at him and the transparent door glowed a brilliant blue.

"Colonel!" McKay shouted, shuffling to his knees and then his feet, letting the computer drop. He pressed his face against the glass to get a better view. "Sheppard?"

"I'm okay!" Sheppard shot back, irritated as hell as he got to his feet.

"You sure?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm sure, dammit!"

McKay watched him, wide-eyed. "And the door. Any sign that the door was…"

Leaning in, the colonel examined his damage – or rather lack of such. He groaned, and then muttered, "Not a scratch." There wasn't even a discoloration where the bullet struck the surface. "It glowed pretty bright for a second when I shot it."

He looked to McKay, expecting a dejected expression. Instead, McKay looked intrigued.

"The doors are obviously made of an extremely resilient material," Rodney commented as he ran one hand along the panel. "We need to find out more about it." He squinted at the stuff. "Smooth, transparent, relatively thin, and stands up to abuse."

"Yeah, good for us," Sheppard returned.

But McKay was interested, and when that happened, there was little one could do to stop him as he investigated. He took the scanner and ran it along the length of the door. He smiled a little cockeyed. "Bet it would stand up to just about anything," he said. "You could probably open up the P90 at this thing and it'd take it. The Wraith stunners would have no effect. Bet you could even fire a… bazooka at it and nothing would happen."

"Bazooka?"

"Well," McKay paused, lifting his gaze from the scanner to look at Sheppard. "You know what I mean." He went back to poking at the scanner. He paused again and snapped his fingers. "I bet this is the material that they've were manufacturing on this planet -- mining materials from the various worlds, and taking them here to finish the job. Be a good thing to figure out how they did it. It'd be a useful material to have," he stated.

Sheppard stood, his gun held at his side as he watched McKay who was lost in his own world. "Okay then, how do I get through it?"

Lifting and dropping one hand, McKay told him, "I have no idea. I don't think you can." And after taking one more reading, he added, "It's nigh on impregnable. Well, I'm sure there's a way to break through it, but it'd certainly kill me, so I don't see a reason to…" and with those words, his expression dropped, along with the hand that held the scanner. He looked that absolute picture of disconsolation.

This sucked, Sheppard realized, this sucked more than any sucky suck he'd encountered. To sit around doing nothing – to be unable to help. This stillness would kill him as surely as the lack of oxygen would eventually asphyxiate McKay in that little closet.

At that thought, Sheppard turned sharply. "I'm going to try another crystal," he decided, heading back to the panel.

"No!"

"Listen, McKay, I'm just going to touch one."

"But…"

"We gotta try it," Sheppard insisted. "I'm just going to… wiggle it."

"Did you forget the SHOCK, because I sure as hell didn't."

"We have to try it. Using that control panel is our best bet at getting you out."

"But it's been rigged! And you don't know what it was like…" he whimpered.

Sheppard held out his hands in a placating gesture. "I'll be careful, real slow. I'll let go if there's any trouble." They needed more options, and standing around wasn't fixing anything.

"Not a good idea! Remember? Crispy Bacon!"

"Canadian bacon?"

"Oh, thank you for that!" McKay snapped.

But Sheppard was already at the panel, gazing up under it at the gooey, fleshy, ruined underside. "I see one in here that I can get out, I think. Not a whole lot of stuff around it. It's kinda shaped like Nevada -- if Las Vegas was in the north."

"That's…" McKay shook his head miserably. "That one is probably part of the lighting array. It's a redundant part and won't affect anything if you take it out."

"Perfect for a test."

"Really, this is NOT a good idea!" McKay pressed his hands against the door, as if he could shove his way through. "Are you even listening to me? Not good!"

"I'm just going to ease it forward a bit. I'm going to let go as soon as…"

"This is my LIFE you're messing around with!" McKay shouted.

Frustrated, Sheppard scowled. "I know! And if we don't figure something out, you're going to suffocate, and then what am I going to do?" He waited, his hand above the crystal, waiting for McKay.

With a pained look, Rodney gave a little nod, and John put his hand on the crystal. Slowly, he pulled it back, sure that he could free it of the network of crap. It was almost clear to begin with. I can do this, I can do this, he chanted to himself -- He was wrong.

ZAP!

And another high-pitched shout, and McKay was trying to cram himself into the back corner of the cubicle again. "I told you!" he cried. "I told you!"

John felt the blood leave his face. Shit!

"You did that on purpose!" McKay accused.

"I'm trying to get you out!"

"Well, that didn't work, did it?" McKay's voice quivered with panic, as he shook from the latest assault. "Let's put that in the Listen to McKay when he says, 'don't do it again' file and LEAVE IT ALONE!"

John paced away, unable to look at McKay, feeling guilty as hell for only increasing his misery. He had to get his friend out of there. Only one person could do that job, and he was currently trapped in a little glassed- in box. Sheppard swallowed, and steeled himself, taking a breath before he turned to face the man.

McKay crumbled back into one corner of the box and picked up his computer. "If you quit shocking me, I'll keep working on this, thank you very much!" McKay regarded Sheppard for a moment before he continued his work. Then, the only sounds in the room was the muffled tapping on the data-tablet and Rodney's panting breaths.

Damn it, Rodney, I'm sorry, Sheppard thought, roughly running a hand through his hair as he paced, wishing there was anything he could do.

TBC - mmm... bacon