Let's be very original this time 'round, and say a big THANK YOU to the loveliest of them all: Angela!

Notes: Gen/team-ish, with a lot of Sheppard and McKay, as always 

Some angst, some h/c, some stupidities and some typos, I'm sure.

Mild cursing, a bit of violence and gross stuff, no spoilers unless you're unaware of Ronon's existence, which would be quite surprising.

Enjoy! 

Chapter 1: Ring around the booty.

They were tall and strong. Beautiful and golden. Warriors, Pegasus style, much like Teyla and Ronon. They moved with grace, barely covered by natural fibres and leather that left little to the imagination. Long shapely legs drew the eye to perfect hips, flat and muscular stomachs, ample or sculpted pectorals as per gender. Dark eyes shone from perfectly balanced faces and full lips completed the package.

Rodney was practically swimming in drool. "Oh, this is…this is heaven," he said with a content sigh.

"Not bad." Gaze hidden by dark sunglasses, Colonel Sheppard could look his fill. There was a lot of skin to appreciate here. Skin that didn't belong to his command, his team, so he could appreciate. He might've been deprived of them, but he did enjoy the finer things in life, as he viewed them; a good imported beer, a steak bigger than his head, and perfectly formed, bronzed-skinned, scantily clad woman...women. Or men, he wasn't picky. He liked beauty in all its form, and he'd have barbecued steak and a roasted potato with anyone. His mouth watered for entirely culinary reasons, unlike some people he chose to associate with.

Teyla's gaze narrowed as it settled on McKay, deprived and depraved individual. "Rodney! Keep your tongue!"

"What! I haven't said anything!"

Ronon scuffed him behind the head, a move he'd learned from Sheppard and enjoyed on a daily basis. "She means keep it in your mouth! It's hanging to the ground!"

"It is not!" Rodney returned his avid eyes to the tribe of gorgeous, gorgeous people that was coming to greet them. So. Much. Beauty. They were not badly served on Atlantis, but this. Oh, this was Carter dipped in chocolate as she praised his genius. Oh, god, yes! This would fuel lonely nights for years to come. Perfect aesthetics; he'd give them fantasy brains and they would be the ultimate conquests. Strong, smart and sexy as hell.

"Be nice, we don't want to spook the natives." They all put on a smile, some more fake than others, attempting to appear like nice, civilized people.

Not that they needed have bothered.

John flicked on the charm switch and advanced with Teyla, hands resting casually on his P-90 as they so often did when confronted with members of an unknown community. "Hi!"

"Greetings," the tallest man said, raising his hand to follow his word.

"My name's John Sheppard. This here is Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex and Rodney McKay."

The man spoke to Teyla only, rudely ignoring Sheppard. "I am Kenoti Catesh Malpee Lariohin Shiatiameg. You may address me as Kenoti Catesh. You wish to trade?"

Ah, the simplicity of open communication. Teyla allowed her dazzling smile to shine and nodded. "Yes. We have much to offer."

"So I can see." The man's gaze flickered over Ronon and lingered over John and Rodney before returning to Teyla. "Please, follow us to the village." The welcoming committee turned back and started down the hill.

Rodney fell into step with John. "Why don't we meet that kind of native more often? Clean, tanned, half-naked natives. I could deal with that, all day, every day."

Certainly not one to spoil the fun and upset anyone unnecessarily, John kept his misgivings quiet. "Can't have you distracted by booty."

"It's been so long since I've been distracted by any booty, even Julius is starting to look good."

"What, he feeds you daily and has that nifty hairnet thing going on. What's not to like? Anyways, you've had that Wraith chick on the Aurora to give you a cheap thrill."

"Hardly! It was half a second and you ruined it!"

"As I've said, can't have you distracted by booty."

"Don't distract me today," McKay pleaded, enthralled by the bouncing motion of a perfectly rounded bottom. "Please, let me enjoy this."

"I think you're distracted enough." John shook his head, holding back a grin.

They reached the village, small huts forming a large circle around a communal fire pit. The greeting party dissolved and they were left with Kenoti as a guide. He spoke only to Teyla and Ronon, relegating John and Rodney to the back of the group.

Rodney was oblivious, eyes as big as saucers, storing away all those flesh sightings for future use. John, on the other hand, saw the looks thrown their way. Not curious, those he expected and answered with a smile or a nod, the gazes that ran over McKay and himself were unashamedly proprietary and left him uneasy. Listening with one ear to Teyla's masterful small talk, he examined their surroundings closely, noting the dense foliage bordering the village. He met Ronon's eyes and the Satedan nodded. He saw it too; the excitement that rippled through the villagers as they made their way to their final destination. Not curiosity, not 'hey, look, new people and they dress funny' interest. This was expectant enthusiasm.

They reached a bigger hut that stood removed from the circle and Kenoti invited them to enter.

Huh, not quite.

"You will remain here," he ordered, stretching a muscular arm to bar John and Rodney's way.

"Go ahead Teyla. We'll wait here." John pretended that it was his decision. He wanted to stay outside and enjoy the sun with Rodney. He was Big Bad John and everybody knew you didn't give no lip to…oh great! He'd have that song in his head until they returned to Atlantis! At least it was a good one.

One-half of his team entered the hut, frowning. John moved his hands purposefully over his P-90 and took on a protective stance. He was careful not to do too much, to avoid alarming the natives, but he succeeded in moving Rodney away from people, towards the hut entrance.

"What's that about?"

John shrugged. "Don't know. Doesn't matter, Teyla's good and Ronon's scary."

This was not a scientific mission per say, one step on the planet and Rodney had deemed it unworthy, as indicated by the lack of interesting readings. This resulted in a bored scientist who had nothing better to do than ogle the natives in their nearly naked glory.

"Rodney. Don't stare."

"I'm not staring!"

"You are. Not that I blame you, but pretty people don't like to be stared at."

"You would know!"

"Thank you." John smiled brightly and received a satisfyingly annoyed frown in return.

His attention was returned to McKay when Rodney asked, his voice filled with hope, "Do you think they have big bonfires and dancing all night type of celebrations? Some kind of ale and roasted meat?" Unbeknownst to the scientist, his hands spoke of his true motivations, slightly curved in a cupping form, palms upwards, bouncing at chest height.

John held back the bark of laughter that threatened to make him lose his 'straight man' to Rodney's antics. He reached out, lowered Rodney's hands and said, "I think they save those for their Burn the Scientist festival."

"Ha. Hahaha. Ha. Aren't you a funny little colonel! Just like the penny behind the ear trick, filled with entertaining value and intellectual stimulation."

"Sure am, it's my selling point." The flirting eyebrow waggle always aggravated Rodney far more than anything John could say.

"Umph, that's why you come so cheap."

"Touché."

Rodney smiled smugly. "It was rather good."

John nodded knowingly. "A six on the scale."

"It deserved at least an eight!"

"A six is as high as I'll go."

"Then I take back the seven from the other day when you said –"

John would not be reminded of his undoubtedly clever words as a large noise was heard from inside the hut and he rushed in to find Ronon holding two men at gunpoint. Teyla stood at his back, hands raised at chin level, one fist curled around a small combat knife, in a stance they knew far too well.

John raised his P-90 and corralled Rodney behind him with one arm. "What's up?"

"They wish to trade for you and Doctor McKay. I have respectfully informed them that you are not for trade, but they believe I intend to barter over price."

"And this leads you to push over a table and draw your weapons how?"

Teyla frowned in displeasure. "Ronon did not take kindly to the implications that we were honourless."

John nodded. "Makes sense." He watched the man standing next to Kenoti take them in with an evaluating eye.

"I believe the price we have offered is fair; especially for the fatter one."

"Hey!"

"Rodney, let it go."

"I'm not fat!"

"Rodney! Let it go."

An indignant grumble that sounded similar to "it's muscle mass" reassured John, his command would be obeyed. "Now, I'm not familiar with your ways, but we're not merchandise. We came here in peace, and now I think we'll go back in the same way." He made a head movement, indicating to his team that this was move-out time, but a startled yelp from behind had him searching Ronon and Teyla's faces for indications. Ronon's gaze narrowed further and Teyla's lips tightened. So, not a McKay Moment. He turned his head a fraction and saw, out of the corner of his eyes, his day go down the garbage chute.

Rodney was held at spear point, a trickle of blood sliding down his neck. He had gained, in the last few seconds, an escort of very big men carrying very sharp weapons. Big knives hung from what would instantly be dubbed loincloths, for the sake of clarity. The men were neatly disposing of Rodney's freedom of movement by tying thin strips of leather around his wrist, bringing his hands behind his head and securing them around his neck with a much wider strip of leather. He attempted to dislodge them but found his airway did not support his actions and closed off as a result. He was forced to rely solely on his team to save him from this particular bind.

"There's no need for that! If you'll just release Doctor McKay, we'll be on our way."

Kenoti smiled as he spoke, knowing he had won. "Drop your weapons."

No one moved except Rodney who tried to avoid the spear pressing against his delicate skin. He then went on to choke, which served to convince even Ronon that it would be wise to let go of his Precious.

No mentions were made of knives specifically; hence, the warrior's reasoning that all was not lost.