Spoilers for SG-1 - Foothold
Disclaimer: They're not mine, but that's okay as long as I can take them out now and again and play with them. I try to put them back like I found them.
Did I mention this is slash?
It was a quiet day in Atlantis, which suited Dr. Elizabeth Weir just fine. Too many of their days were filled with emergencies of the life and death variety. So she savored the quiet ones to their fullest. The Daedulus was due to arrive soon, and she always liked to have time to debrief with Colonel Caldwell and then, when she could, life and death crises allowing, she would take the afternoon off to enjoy her mail from home.
She had just finished reading and signing off on her last report when a quiet voice in her ear said, "The Daedulus is in orbit over the city, ma'am. Colonel Caldwell wants to speak privately with you in your office."
She didn't know why, but the words sent a stirring of unease through Elizabeth.
She tapped her comm and replied, "Alright, tell him he can beam directly into my office."
She had barely gotten the words out before a beam of light heralded his arrival and Caldwell was standing in her office. His lips were drawn tight and his eyes shadowed with worry.
Ten minutes later Elizabeth announced an emergency meeting of the Atlantis senior staff. Everyone was there except for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay who were off world at the time. But some situations were just too dire and could not wait for all of her advisors to be present before they were resolved.
Sheppard's team drug themselves through the gate ready to hurry through their post-mission exams in the infirmary, debrief and then hit the showers.
The mission had been a total bust. All they'd found on the planet had been mud, mud and more mud. The energy signature that Rodney thought he'd found had turned out to be a glitch in his workpad. A glitch that had cost them an entire day spent wading through the mud.
The muscles in his legs were quivering, muscles he hadn't really known were there until they started protesting around mid-day. Rodney knew he was in much better shape because of the field work and the work-out routine that Sheppard insisted on, but he was in no way prepared for a day of mud slogging.
As they trudged through the control room on their way to the infirmary, Rodney glanced around. The room was abnormally quiet. They were returning in early afternoon, Atlantis time, and normally the place should be buzzing with people working. Today though, the people were there, but they had their heads down, completely absorbed in what they were doing. Rodney paused and frowned trying to catch the eye of someone, anyone, but no heads lifted, no eyes turned in curiosity to see the spectacle that the returning team presented.
While Rodney certainly approved of people being absorbed in their work, it was so abnormal as to border on the bizarre. Returning teams were fodder to feed the rumor mills for weeks in their small, closed in society. The current bedraggled state of their team should have brought people running from all over the city.
Ronon had fallen in the mud and was now a slowly drying mud statue with his eyes staring out ghoulishly from the mud mask that was his face. Teyla was little better off with mud-caked pants and face. Sheppard had somehow gotten mud in his hair and it stuck up in spiky tufts tipped with mud, it complimented his mud-splattered pants and tac vest.
Rodney himself was hardly pristine but he had managed to avoid the complete mud bath that the rest of his team had suffered merely because he'd refused to help them up when they fell claiming the delicate machinery he was carrying had to be kept clean. Still, he had mud in places he didn't want to think about and he felt dirty to the bone. He just wanted nothing more than to strip off his own mud spattered clothes and stand in the shower for an hour.
Rodney had been dreading the return to Atlantis sure that they were going to have to endure the taunts and jibes of the rest of the city on their way through the halls. The fact that no one seemed to care or notice didn't seem quite right, but Rodney was too tired to try and figure out why. He was just grateful that perhaps he'd make it to his shower that much sooner.
"Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth called out to them.
With an almost audible moan, Sheppard stopped and turned back. The rest of the team didn't bother to turn, they just leaned into one another, holding each other up.
"Could I see you for a moment before you get checked out?" she called down.
"Can it wait, Elizabeth? We've had a... really long day," it was a measure of how tired Sheppard was that he'd even ask. Normally he would never think to put off Weir.
"I'm sorry, John, I need to speak with you now."
Her steely tone and the subtle emphasis on the 'now' didn't escape Rodney. He glanced up at Elizabeth. Her body was stiff and tense. Adrenaline shot through Rodney. Something was wrong.
Sheppard must have sensed it, too. "Alright, I'll be right there." He turned back to his team, "You guys go on and I'll catch up."
"If something's wrong, maybe we should come, too?" Rodney offered quietly. They were all so tired they could barely stand, but if there was an emergency, he knew that eventually he would be needed. He didn't want to walk all the way to the infirmary if he was just going to have to turn around and come immediately back before he even had the chance to sit down.
As if she could hear their words, Elizabeth called out, "Just you, John, the rest of your team can go to the infirmary, Dr. Beckett is waiting for them."
Sheppard just gave a tired shrug of his shoulders, "You heard the lady, I'll be down in a minute."
Rodney stood a moment and watched as the major slowly climbed the stairs up to Elizabeth's office. No one even looked up at him as he passed. The normally popular colonel elicited no comments and was greeted by no one.
"Dr. McKay, do you require assistance?" Teyla's quiet words made him start. He shook his head.
"No, no, I'm alright. Let's go. The sooner we let the vampire have his blood, the quicker we'll get out of his clutches and into our showers."
Except that it seemed they were going to be confined to the infirmary for an indeterminate amount of time. Carson didn't meet anyone's eyes when he told them of the outbreak of a Pegasus version of the flu that had hit the city. He was going to have to keep them in the infirmary for the next 24 hours to make sure they hadn't contracted it.
"But... but... but, we need to shower and change," Rodney spluttered in outrage. "You can't expect us to stay like this for the next 24 hours," his waved hand included their muddy clothes and general appearance. Dried mud flew everywhere in his agitated waving.
Carson frowned at the dirt in his pristine infirmary, "I'll be gettin' you some scrubs and you can all shower in here," he bustled around, really doing nothing as far as Rodney could see.
"Well, I don't want to shower here," Rodney declared mulishly, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin, "I want to go to my quarters and wear my own clothes."
"Well you can't," Carson answered in a no-nonsense tone. "Now this virus is nothing to play around with, lad, we've had several people come down with it while you were gone and we need to make sure you're not carrying it or coming down with it." He left before anyone else could raise any more objections.
They all stood after Carson left, trying not to get mud everywhere. Rodney glanced around the infirmary wondering exactly where the flu victims were being kept.
"Do things seem... odd to you?" Teyla's asked, her voice quiet as if she didn't want her words to go any farther than the three of them.
Rodney jerked, "Yes, I've thought that since we came through the gate."
Ronon nodded thoughtfully, "Your people are all so... busy, scurrying around like they actually have something to do. They seem very different today."
"Almost like they aren't themselves," Teyla added.
It all clicked into place for Rodney then. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, oh, my god, that's what's happened."
"What do you mean, Dr. McKay?" Teyla and Ronon both looked at him curious.
"I can't believe I didn't see this sooner, it must be because I'm so tired..."
"You did not see what sooner?" Teyla asked patiently trying to keep him on point.
He paused to give her a glare before continuing, "This happened at the SGC a few years ago. Aliens came through the gate and took over the base. They had technology that allowed them to perfectly imitate the SGC personnel, you couldn't tell the difference between the real people and the imposters."
"What happened?" Teyla and Ronon traded anxious glances.
"SG-1 came back through the gate much like we just did and were sent to the infirmary for their post mission checks. The aliens captured Jack O'Neill, he was a colonel then, and Daniel Jackson, along with Teal'c. But Samantha Carter, the brilliant scientist that she is, realized that something was wrong and managed to escape." Rodney glanced around the infirmary again, it suddenly seemed like a bad place to be. "Listen I'd like to tell you all about it, but why don't we get out of here first?"
"I concur," Teyla nodded her agreement. "Perhaps we can find someplace quiet to look at the facts and decide the best course of action. If we decide that we are wrong, we can always return here."
--SGA--
When Carson returned to the infirmary all he found were muddy footprints where the team had been standing.
Grimly he tapped his comm., "Dr. Weir? Rodney, Teyla and Ronon have left the infirmary."
"What? You've got to find them. We can't have Rodney running around loose in the city," she answered, her voice high with panic.
"Well then you'd better be sendin' a team to find them, lass, because they're gone." He stalked from of the room muttering something about finding a broom.
--SGA--
After they were sure Carson was gone, Rodney emerged from behind the screen where the three of them had been hiding.
"Did you hear that?" He asked quietly. While they'd only been privy to Carson's side of the conversation, it was damning enough. The fact that the doctor and Elizabeth Weir had been communicating on a secure channel was just further proof to Rodney that something was very wrong in his city. Add to that the fact that they didn't want his team running around the city loose and it added up to something very bad happening in Atlantis.
It made sense. If there was an alien incursion they would know that Rodney would be able to figure it out. They had thrown up their fiction about a flu outbreak as smoke and mirrors to confuse them and keep them cooperating until the aliens could do whatever it was they needed to do. And it might have worked with anyone but Dr. Rodney McKay. Now they'd slipped up and it was going to cost them.
Rodney was worried about Sheppard alone with Elizabeth, but there was nothing he could do about it quite yet. He needed to get away with Ronon and Teyla, then they could figure out how best to help the colonel and the city. Rodney just hoped that, like the situation at the SG-1 all those years ago, his friends were still alive somewhere.
The three of them left the infirmary quickly before someone could come in and discover them. They would have to act fast before things escalated any further.
Rodney knew the city better than anyone, he especially knew the hallways to use to avoid people and where the closest transporters were located. He only paused long enough to interface his workpad with the city's systems. He wiped out all traces of their life signs from the city's sensors. Radek would be able to eventually fix what he'd done, but Rodney hoped it would give his little team time to do what they needed to do first.
He was startled by John's voice in his ear.
"Hey, McKay, you there?"
Rodney remembered they were all still on the frequency they'd used on the mission. It should be secure from the rest of the base, at least for a few minutes.
Rodney exchanged a swift glance with Teyla and Ronon. "Colonel, are you okay?" he asked quickly.
"I'm fine," Sheppard drawled in his ear. "What are you doing? You know the doc needs you back in the infirmary asap."
"Listen, Colonel," Rodney said, trying to convey the urgency of the situation in his voice, "that's a ruse."
"A ruse? McKay, this thing is serious.."
Rodney interrupted impatiently, "It's a lie, colonel. Just shut up," he said when Sheppard tried to speak, "don't you think there's something odd going on here?"
"We live in a 10,000 year old flying city being hunted by an enemy that can suck your life out through their hand. Define odd, Rodney." Rodney could hear the smirk in his voice and it made him feel better.
Rodney panted a little as he kept moving and talking. They'd already had a long day and he could really have used a day off before the aliens made him run all over the city, "You know. Odd. Out of character, peculiar, strange, weird, bizarre, queer, hinky."
"Well, gee, McKay, if you're going to use technical terms, I'm going to have to break out the dictionary."
The voice was right, the tone just snarky enough and yet Rodney knew. He knew. Whatever was affecting the rest of the city had John too.
"Come on, Rodney, just tell me where you are, Carson's worried about you," John spoke again and Rodney shivered at how right his voice sounded, the wheedling tone that John sometimes used when Rodney was particularly stubborn.
"Oh, no, colonel," Rodney said, "not on your life." Rodney pulled off his ear piece and threw it aside. Teyla and Ronon followed suit.
The aliens had Sheppard, too.
Rodney swallowed the panic that threatened to rise to terrifying proportions. He didn't have time for it. The whole thing was so eerily similar to the foothold incident at the SGC. The aliens had been able to mimic the SGC personnel perfectly. John sounded like John down to the smirk in his voice and the snap of his comebacks. It made Rodney angry to think that aliens might be rooting around in the minds of bodies of his friends.
Rodney just hoped that the major was tucked away somewhere safe where he could be rescued. It was Rodney's turn to do the rescuing and he didn't intend to fail in that regard.
"Where are we going?" Teyla panted as they hurried down the hall. Even she was beginning to be affected by the day's events.
"There's some secondary control rooms in parts of the city we haven't initialized yet. I should be able to access things like security and find out what's been going on here. If I have to, I can contact the Daedulus and see if they've arrived yet..."
"McKay, they're here already," Ronon spoke up. He'd been watching their six as they moved along, making sure that no one was following them.
"What?" Rodney frowned back at him.
"There was one of Caldwell's marine's in the control room, I saw the patches," he explained with a fatalistic shrug. Rodney didn't doubt him. After seven years of running from the Wraith, Ronon's observational skills were honed to perfection.
"They were due to arrive today," Teyla reminded Rodney.
"Yes, yes, I know that..." he trailed off as his mind began to connect possibilities. "You don't think the Daedulus brought this alien thing to Atlantis do you?"
Teyla shook her head troubled, "Or perhaps they were caught in much the same way that Colonel Sheppard and walked into a trap unawares. Whatever the case, it is up to us to rescue our friends."
Rodney increased his pace, needing to be doing something, anything. They rounded a corner and ran straight into John Sheppard. He leaned up against a wall, spiky hair still stiff with mud.
"Colonel?" Rodney stopped in surprise. He looked around expecting to see the entire military contingent of Atlantis there to take them but they were alone.
Sheppard straightened, holding up his hands to demonstrate that he was unarmed. He gave every indication of being John Sheppard.
"So, Rodney, what's up?" he asked.
He took in the three of them looking bedraggled and weary. Rodney was leaning down, hands on his knees, breathing hard.
"Why don't you guys come back with me and we can talk about whatever it is you think is wrong." he asked reasonably.
Rodney's thoughts were moving at a million miles a minute. At the moment it was just John but they were still on the outskirts of the part of the city the expedition inhabited. It would only be a matter of time before everyone else showed up to the party.
"Sheppard, I'm sorry," Rodney said. He straightened and took a step away. "We can't go back with you. Teyla."
Instantly Teyla knew what he wanted. She moved forward to stand between the colonel and Rodney dropping down into a fighting crouch.
"Oh, for pete's sake," the colonel muttered. He reached behind his back at the same time that Teyla sprang forward.
Ronon, seeing the colonel's movement, jumped in their direction, "Teyla, watch out, McKay, run!"
But he was too far away. Sheppard pulled the weapon from behind his back where he had it tucked and fired three quick shots. Rodney stared down uncomprehending at the small feathered dart that struck him in the chest. He plucked at it curiously before pitching forward unconscious.
John had just enough time to take a quick step forward and catch him, easing his journey to the floor. Teyla and Ronon both lay in a jumble of limbs next to them. John straightened them as best he could before tapping his comm.
"I have them. Someone send a medical team to my position."
He sat, leaning back against the wall, one hand on Rodney's shoulder.
Colonel John Sheppard sat watching his team sleep, a scowl plastered on his face. They weren't hurt by the trank he'd hit them with, just sedated and they'd be asleep for some time yet. The medical staff had cleaned them up mostly and changed them into scrubs, but all three of them still had smudges and streaks of dirt on their face and hands. Sheppard himself had already showered and changed because the doctor wouldn't allow him into the infirmary until he'd done so.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention. John looked up to see Elizabeth Weir standing at the door. She almost left again when she saw him sitting there. He ignored her as she changed her mind and approached him resolutely.
"How are they doing?" she asked quietly.
"How do you think they're doing?" He fixed her with his steely gaze, judgement heavy in his tone. "I tranked my team because you didn't want Rodney to see a magazine article."
She couldn't hold his gaze and looked away guilty. "Things got out of hand, John…"
He held up his hand and stopped her, "Don't even say it, what's done is done. Have you gotten rid of all the copies?"
"We think so. The city should be clear. This was just so unexpected. I mean who really thought the international committee would decide to go public?"
"Dr. Weir," she flinched when he called her by her title rather than her name, "I just want to go on record as protesting this. Rodney deserves to see that article."
She crossed her arms and met his gaze levelly, "Colonel Sheppard," she met his formality with her own, "I made the decision I did for the good of our community. The article was patently false…"
"The thing is, it wasn't, and he should have seen it."
"Noted, Colonel, now if you will excuse me" she said coolly before turning and continuing into Carson's office.
John sat back in the chair, just watching Rodney sleep.
The scientist was curled up on his side, hair tousled in all different directions, drool dribbling down one cheek. With a quick glance around to make sure there was no one to see, Sheppard stood and wiped away the drool with his thumb. Then he settled back in his chair, making himself as comfortable as he could waiting for his team to wake up and see if they'd ever speak to him again.
"So, what you doing?" Sheppard asked as he leaned against the door frame into Rodney's room. A door that had been closed and locked, but then Sheppard didn't have a problem with the locks in Atlantis.
Rodney hated it when Sheppard hovered. He'd been hovering all day ever since Rodney had been released from the infirmary.
He hovered at the mess, taking Rodney's tray and carrying it for him. He hovered in the lab, watching over Rodney's shoulder as he worked until the scientist couldn't stand it anymore. Rodney went to his room hoping Sheppard would get the hint and leave him alone, but he didn't.
He was still standing there. Hovering. Watching Rodney expectantly.
"I'm fine, colonel, can you just leave me alone for five minutes?" Rodney crossed his arms and glared at the colonel. It would have withered a lesser human being. But since it was John Sheppard he wasn't even phased by it.
Sheppard just shrugged, not looking in the least repentant, "I was just worried that's all. It's not every day I shoot a team mate."
"As I recall, you also shot Teyla and Ronon. Why don't you go hover over them?"
The colonel snorted, "Are you kidding? They'd kick my ass! Besides I feel bad, I was suffering the affects of that mud as much you guys. Let me make it up to you, lets go for a flying lesson in the jumper."
He looked so enthusiastic that Rodney almost said yes. But he was still mad at the colonel for shooting him, even if they had been under the influence of alien mud that made them all paranoid and violent. With Rodney paranoid and John violent they were lucky that no one got really hurt.
"I don't think so," Rodney replied, "I'm afraid you might crash land us just for the fun of it."
John's face fell and Rodney wished he could take the words back, but it was too late.
"Come on, McKay, Beckett said we were clean, no more mud induced craziness. What are you going to do, sit around here all day like a stick in the mud?"
A sly smile lurked at the corners of the colonel's mouth and Rodney had to work hard to keep his own scowl in place.
"Oh, hardy har har, colonel, don't give up your day job. For your information, I have a stack of mail from the Daedulus that I haven't even had a chance to look at yet." He plopped himself down at his desk and pulled the mail from the bag he'd stuffed it in.
He turned his attention to the stack of junk mail and sales flyers that had somehow made it all the way to the Pegasus Galaxy. He didn't really think there was anything exciting in the mail, he was just hoping that if he ignored him long enough eventually Sheppard would get bored and go bother someone else.
John's heart plummeted when he saw Rodney's stack of mail. On the bottom he spied the very magazine that had started the whole mess. He ran through his available options trying to figure out what, if anything, he could do. Part of him said, just let Rodney find it. If fate was that determined that Rodney McKay see the damned thing, then so be it. But the other part knew that everyone on Atlantis was mortally afraid of what would happen if McKay ever did see it.
His time was running out, Rodney was flipping through the stack quickly. Acting without thought, John crossed the room and slapped his hand down on the mail. Rodney looked up at him, a surprised squawk on his face. Before he could say anything, John leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't a particularly good kiss with no finesse, just a pressing of their lips together.
John had thought a lot about what it would be like to kiss Rodney and under what conditions, somehow he'd never thought it would be like this.
Rodney was stiff and unresponsive and John felt his heart plummet. It was the reason he'd never taken the chance before. He'd always been unsure about how Rodney actually felt. And Rodney was his best friend. He needed a best friend more than he needed a lover and now he'd ruined it because Elizabeth Weir was afraid of how Rodney would react over a damned magazine article.
John decided if this was the only chance he was going to get, he was going to make the most of it. Rodney still sat, silent and unmoving, but he wasn't moving away. John cupped his face with both hands and tried again, this time he touched a tentative tongue to Rodney's lips licking across them. It was like something broke within Rodney and his mouth was open and his lips were pressing against Johns.
The mail scattered everywhere as Rodney leaned up and into the kiss, his hands moving to John's neck, pulling him in closer.
"Oh, god," Rodney breathed. "Is this still the mud? Because if it is, I don't want to know about it," he panted. It should have been impossible to talk with your tongue in someone else's mouth, but, not surprisingly, Rodney McKay managed it.
"It's not the mud," John assured him.
He moved around the desk so he could pull Rodney up and against him. He had thought so much about being with Rodney and doing what they were doing and the reality was so much better than he'd ever imagined. Rodney knew amazing things to do with his tongue and John's skin tingled where Rodney had his hands under his shirt stroking whatever part of the colonel he could reach.
It was all John could do to retain enough awareness to snag the magazine and stuff it into his jacket before Rodney took over completely and tumbled them into the bed.
--SGA--
Afterwards they lay entwined, their bodies pressed together. Rodney hardly dared to believe that it was John Sheppard in his bed. It was something he'd thought about and wanted for a long time, but in the end, he'd always rejected saying anything to Sheppard because he was Rodney's best friend. Rodney had even fewer best friends in his life than he'd had lovers, so he'd never said anything too afraid of screwing up the relationship they had. Now everything was changed and yet it all felt scarily the same.
Rodney ran his hand down Sheppard's arm delighting in the feel of smooth, warm flesh. John opened lazy, hazel eyes and smiled at Rodney.
Rodney smiled back, sudden apprehension flooding through him. "Did you like it?" he asked anxiously.
John made a snorting noise. They were pressed so closely together that Rodney felt it through his whole body.
"McKay, I like Ferris wheels and college football and Athosian tea in the morning. This was," he pressed a kiss to Rodney's jaw, "was... I lo... yeah I liked it. A lot."
Rodney felt the grin take over his face, but he couldn't help it. He was happy all the way to his toes.
He felt like he should freak out.
He felt like he should throw Sheppard out before John broke his heart.
He decided he was much too comfortable and he could always freak out later if the occasion arose. Just this once he decided to just enjoy what was happening and not worry about what was going to happen later.
They dozed, wrapped up in one another, not really bothering to move, just trading lazy kisses and caresses with no other purpose than to be together. Eventually John's breathing evened out and he fell into sleep. Rodney's stomach grumbled and he remembered that he hadn't eaten much because John had been hovering.
CarefullyRodney extracted himself and hunted around on the floor for his clothes. He'd just go the mess hall and get them something to eat. He'd be back before John even woke up. He picked up a jacket, shaking it out to figure out whose it was when a magazine fell out.He stared down in complete and utter surprise when his own face stared back at him.
Rodney hopped around pulling on his pants before sitting down to flip the magazine open.
A Man for All Seasons – Time Magazine Man of the Year
Dr. Rodney McKay
A long time ago in a galaxy far far away. Once upon a time that sounded like science fiction, but now it's no more than simple truth. It has been brought to the world's attention that a brave group of intrepid explorers have traveled to the Pegasus Galaxy by means of technology called a wormhole. Now the whys and wherefores of this are way beyond the understanding of this reporter, and they make the Death Star look like child's play.
As reported by the committee for the coalition of nations that oversee the activities of Earth's far-away colony in the Pegasus Galaxy, the expedition that traveled there thought they were a scientific endeavor, working to find weapons and technology to help fight Earth's war with a foe closer to home – first the Goa'uld and now the Ori. But our intrepid travelers found an enemy of their own on the far side of the universe, an enemy called the Wraith. An enemy who think that Earth and the Milky Way Galaxy are the promised land and the Big Boy Buffet all rolled into one. These Wraith view humans as their own private livestock and use our life force to feed on.
Truly truth is stranger than science fiction.
Now this band of explorers is Earth's last best defense against this enemy on our doorstep. The man who is at the forefront of our defense is not a soldier, although there are soldiers aplenty at the Atlantis base defending and supporting him, but a Canadian scientist, Dr. Rodney McKay. Long part of the Stargate command and a leader in research in many esoteric forms of math and physics, it is McKay who daily holds back the wolf at our door and saves the lives of every man and woman at the Atlantis base and keeps the Wraith from following their trail back to Earth.
Dr. McKay's research and vision has been vital to the well-being and continued survival of the group at the Atlantis base and we here on Earth owe him a debt of gratitude we'll never be able to repay for keeping the Wraith on that side of the wormhole.
A selfless and dedicated man, McKay daily puts his life on the line for his fellow scientists and soldiers. He is willing to do whatever is necessary to safeguard the lives entrusted to him, often at the risk to his own life. I know that I speak for all of Earth when I say that his sacrifices do not go unnoticed and we hope to see him home soon.
"Huh,' Rodney said as he scanned the article again.
He read it through twice before it finally clicked what had been going on in Atlantis for the past two days while he was stuck in the infirmary. He looked up at John to find him awake, head propped up on a hand watching Rodney, a worried frown creasing his forehead.
"Did you know about this?" Rodney asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
Sheppard shrugged, it was a whole new experience when he did it with bare shoulders and chest but Rodney refused to let himself be sidetracked. He could feel the anger rising within him. He'd been deceived on a monumental level.
"I wanted to tell you, but they wouldn't let me," Sheppard winced at the words coming out of his mouth. "Listen, Rodney," he began.
"Oh, no, you don't. Don't even go there." Rodney stood, towering over the reclining man. "I don't know what this was," he swept a hand to take in John and the rumpled bed clothes, "but I want you out now."
"Rodney," John pleaded.
"Out."
John didn't try again. He found his clothes and pulled them on hurriedly as Rodney just watched him with the corners of his mouth turned down, his arms crossed. John left without either of them saying another word.
When the door closed behind him, John heard something heavy and glass hit the door and shatter.
John didn't tell anyone that Rodney had found out about the article. He figured they had brought it on themselves, and deserved whatever they got. It didn't take long before Atlantis began to feel the heat of Rodney McKay's ire.
It started out with little things –
Lights began to go off in the middle of meetings. Once someone stumbled up and fumbled to find the control panel to try and fix it, they would spring back on mysteriously. In the middle of the night lights would turn on full, waking up sleeping scientists and soldiers. Hallways would be plunged into blackness when people stumbled out to see if there was an emergency.
Transporters didn't work or sent people to destinations on the far side of the city.
Comms would mysteriously sputter out or the volume would go up unexpectedly.
When people complained to Rodney, he grumbled that "he was working on it," and things escalated from there.
Showers would start out fine, then suddenly the water would turn ice cold.
The mess hall ovens mysteriously went on the fritz and they were forced to subsist on MREs for a day before they came back on just as mysteriously.
When the music began blasting intermittently on the city-wide intercom at all hours of the day and night, they knew something had to happen.
John sat at the secret emergency meeting, his arms crossed turning the full force of his glare on the other people around the table. He'd told them what would happen but they hadn't listened to him, choosing instead to go to stupidly unreasonable lengths to keep Rodney from seeing a magazine article. He figured whatever happened now, they all had it coming to them.
Sitting across the table from him, Elizabeth Weir looked harried and strained like she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in three days. Dr. Zelenka didn't look too much better with his wispy hair sticking up as if he'd been pulling on it and his glasses sitting on his face at an odd angle. Doctor Beckett rubbed a tired hand across his face. He sipped from a luke-warm cup of coffee, all that the pots would produce, and grimaced at the taste.
"Elizabeth, you've got to do something. He has nae affected vital systems yet, but it's only a matter of..." Beckett began, but John interrupted him.
"Don't even go there, Doc, McKay wouldn't do anything to hurt us, and I think you all had it coming." He leaned in and regarded them all angrily "I was against this from the beginning." He pounded a fist on the table and stood, "I said you should just tell him and let him get the gloating out of his system, but you thought you knew better. Well, now you're going to have to grovel and grovel big."
"We know that, John," Elizabeth said quietly. She rubbed her forehead trying to soothe away the headache and knowing there was nothing she could do about it until Rodney McKay was appeased. "This is what I propose..."
There was a sigh as they all listened to her plan with resignation.
John knocked on Rodney's door, not really sure if the other man would even open it.
The last three days had been hell. Not because he'd endured what the rest of the expedition endured. No Rodney had exempted him from his reign of terror. John's lights never went on in the middle of the night, his shower was always satisfyingly hot, there was no rock music to disturb his slumber.
It might have made John feel better if he thought it was because Rodney cared. But he suspected that it was quite the opposite. That he'd destroyed any feelings Rodney might have had for him. And the reason Rodney didn't torture him with the rest of the base was because Rodney had completely dismissed his existence. And that thought hurt worse than any torture that could be devised.
John was left with the memory of what had happened between them just before the whole thing blew up in his face. He was hoping that somehow he could salvage his friendship, but at the moment all he wanted was to get Rodney to the mess hall, so Atlantis could begin making amends.
The door opened and Rodney was standing there, arms crossed and chin thrust out mulishly. John really wanted to kiss him again. Instead he said,
"Hey, Rodney. How you doing?"
Rodney rolled his eyes and padded back into the room. He didn't invite John in, but neither did the door close in his face, so Sheppard accepted it as an invitation and moved inside the room. The door shut behind him.
John paused just inside the room, knowing he wasn't welcome.
Rodney turned to face him, anger vibrating through his body.
"How do you think I'm doing? Everyone I've ever trusted and respected in my life lied to me. They went to such great lengths to keep me from seeing something that I've coveted all my life..."
"Really? You wanted to be Time's Man of the Year?" John asked, the curiosity getting the better of him. He'd always been a man to live life on the edge.
"Oh, shut up," Rodney scowled, "you know what I mean. You sedated me, then you," he waved a wild hand at John, "you slept with me to keep me from seeing that article."
"Hold on, there, McKay," John moved a few steps closer, unable to stand it any longer. "I was ordered to sedate you. I know that doesn't make it right. And yes, I might have kissed you to distract you from seeing that article," he admitted with no small amount of guilt, "but it's been something I wanted to do for awhile now," his voice dropped to a husky whisper. He moved again, this time moving close enough to Rodney that he could feel the heat of his body, "and I certainly didn't sleep with you to keep you from seeing it. That was... also something I've wanted to do for awhile." He reached out and cupped Rodney's cheek.
Almost against his will, Rodney turned his face into the warm hand. "Really?" he asked, pleading with John to make him believe.
"Really," John assured him before leaning in to kiss him. He put all the feeling he'd been keeping bottled up in that kiss. He let his lips slide over Rodney's warm full lips teasing at them with his tongue. John's hand slipped around to twine in Rodney's hair, letting the silky strands run through his fingers.
The anger melted from Rodney's body and he opened his mouth to John, pressing their bodies close.
"I'm still mad at you," he sighed at last.
"Oh, I can tell that," John laughed at him.
"Just wait until the next time you take a shower," Rodney warned, but the hands skimming over John's back told a different story.
John stepped back reluctantly before they reached a place they couldn't stop.
"What?" Rodney blinked at him.
"Listen, there's a thing I'm supposed to get you to."
"A thing?" Rodney blinked, still trying to get his brain to shift back to focus.
"Yes, you have to be surprised."
"Surprised?" Rodney parroted.
John grinned at him, pleased that he'd reduced Rodney to one word sentences, "Yes, there's a thing in the mess hall so everyone can grovel. There's going to be cake."
Rodney brightened at the thought of cake just the way John knew he would. Then he frowned, "I know the ovens aren't working. How did they get cake?"
John shrugged, "Dr. Z figured something out. Come on and let everyone grovel then we can come back here and I can continue my apology." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Don't ever do that again," Rodney rolled his eyes, "it's not as sexy as you think."
The door opened and Rodney walked past him into the hallway. He turned back when John failed to follow immediately. He waved an impatient hand for John to get with the program.
Shepard hurried to catch up and they walked to the mess hall with Rodney plying him with questions of what to expect, but John refused to tell him more than the basics. They were forced to actually walk the whole way because the transporters between the living quarters and the mess hall were once again mysteriously off-line.
"I'm going to have do something about that," Rodney muttered as they approached the mess hall doors.
Wisely, John didn't say anything. He just stepped aside so Rodney could proceed him into the room.
Even knowing that something was going to happen, Rodney acted genuinely surprised at the banner that spread across the room, declaring 'Congratulations to Atlantis' Man of the Year.' The cake was as big as a table with Rodney's face in buttercream frosting. John found that a little disturbing, but McKay was in his element, spreading disdain and obnoxious good humor in liberal doses.
Most of the residents of Atlantis were there and a good portion of the Athosians, too.
They at least recognized the truth. While the article had been a little skewed, it was mostly true. John knew that all of the expedition had risen to the occasion when the Wraith showed up on their doorstep, but the lion's share of the credit for keeping them all alive really did go to Dr. Rodney McKay. He didn't mind admitting it and he had a good time watching as, one by one, the rest of the expedition made their way to Rodney's side to congratulate him and shake his hand.
Rodney wasn't one to hold a grudge. At the end of the evening, replete with cake and punch spiked with the Athosian version of moonshine, he assured Elizabeth that the glitches in their systems were easily fixable and would probably clear up by morning.
Then they were walking back to Rodney's quarters. Rodney had really drunk a little too much of the punch and he walked down the hallway unsteadily. Of course John had to put a hand on his arm to guide him down the hall.
"I really am sorry about tranking you," he said softly as they stopped outside Rodney's door.
Rodney smiled at him crookedly, capturing John's wrist in his hand. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find some way to make it up to me," he whispered before he pulled John into the room and the door shut behind them.
Author's Note: This plot bunny was inspired by a challenge from Nialla and encouraged by AlaWriter and Eviljr. You can thank them or blame them, whichever you think is appropriate.
Thanks to my beta, Chocolatephysicist. She always makes my stories better with her comments and suggestions. Any mistakes remaining are my own.
The Challenge: An article praising the wonder that is Rodney McKay appears in a newspaper and filters it's way back to Atlantis. McKay is either a) insufferable (more so than normal), b) embarrassed, or c) both. Gen is acceptable or slash is preferable -- Sheppard, Beckett, and Zelenka, in any combination with McKay.
