Beer and Pizza

John leaned back against what was left of the rear compartment of the ship, his hands on his knees, and let his head droop forward. The tickle in his throat had blossomed into a vise squeezing his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't suck enough oxygen out of the thin air. He had no idea what the exact elevation was – who the hell knew what sea level was on this rock? – but experience told him it was at least seven thousand feet, maybe more. He'd preached hydration to every scientist and soldier on the mission, had drunk his own weight in water, but two days of hauling equipment three miles from the cavern that held the gate to the cliff where the Asgard ship had crashed had taken its toll. Having a cold sucked. Having a cold in high altitude really sucked.

"You okay, Sheppard?" Ronon, the bastard, wasn't even breathing hard.

John tilted his head up to stare at the blanket of gray that called itself a sky. "Nothing a beer and pizza won't cure."

Ronon snorted a laugh. "You look out of shape to me."

"You always say that." John closed his eyes and tried to breathe deep, but his heartbeat refused to slow down. "You might be right."

Ronon's brows lifted and his eyes narrowed. Then he shrugged and turned to stare at the towering mesas of shifting browns and reds that surrounded them. "Think you can convince McKay to hurry up and finish?"

"You got something better to do?

"Lorne said you have a new bunch of recruits coming." Ronon's mouth quirked up. "Thought I might introduce myself."

John's laugh turned into a cough. "I'm sure they'll appreciate that. I'll go check on McKay."

Without a second glance, Ronon headed up the hillside to the cave where they were storing supplies.

John was halfway inside the ship before he realized that Ronon had suggested he take a break. He'd had no idea Ronon knew how to do subtle. Chuckling, John wandered down to the engineering section, ducking under exposed wiring and around buckling walls. McKay had practically vibrated with excitement, and maybe a tiny bit of vengeance, when a MALP had picked up a weak Asgard energy signature. It took Lorne's team an entire day to locate the downed ship and to confirm no life signs. Since they had been confronted with the Asgard presence in Pegasus, McKay had been searching for them – their toxic homeworld, a base of operations, anything he could study in order to be better prepared should another attack come. John had agreed wholeheartedly. He certainly didn't want to be the subject of the next Asgard experiment.

He stumbled sideways and banged into a wall. Chagrined, he pushed upright and staggered forward to the next compartment where half a dozen of Rodney's minions were picking themselves up off the floor.

Relief that he wasn't suffering from vertigo turned to concern. "What happened?" John asked as he offered a hand to Doctor Kusinagi.

"I do not know. " She brushed hair from her eyes and winced, rubbing her elbow. "We were studying—"

"Sheppard!"

John pressed a hand to his ear. "What is it, Ronon?"

"Rock slide. Looks like a couple of big ones slammed into the soft sand where the back end of the ship landed. You're starting to move."

The floor rolled beneath his feet, much like the last time he'd visited Los Angeles. "Clear out! Everybody out of the ship, now!"

Scientists scrambled as the order went out on all channels. John hung back until the room emptied then began a sweep of all the habitable areas and a couple of iffy ones. Satisfied everyone was out, he made his way to the exit. The ship jarred again, then again, harder. Static hissed in his ear. He practically crawled to the outer doors and grimaced at the pebbles and sand flowing past. He didn't have much time.

John leaned out as far as he could. Right, he should go right. He had a better chance of getting clear of the ship before it plunged forward if he went to the right. Unless it spun right and ran over him. "Damn, John. When did you turn into McKay?"

He took as much of a deep breath as he could, and leaped. He landed, rolled to his feet, and sprinted toward the edge of the ship, throwing himself forward and feeling jagged metal scrape the bottom of his boot. He flopped on his back and watched the ship pick up speed then soar into the vast chasm.

And plummet.

John was sure the crash of the ship slamming into the mountainside must have echoed like thunder. But he couldn't hear it over the sound of his gasping for air. He rolled onto his side, clawing at the dirt as he tried to pull in enough oxygen to satisfy his lungs.

"John…must…now."

He wanted to answer Teyla, he really did, but his body had other ideas.

"We need…go… Rock…injured."

Injuries. Great. He pressed his forehead against the sand then staggered to his feet, dismayed at the rock still falling. The swath of ground the ship had been on was now a river of dirt and stone. Boulders tumbled past. People scurried near the cave entrance.

"On my way," John panted.

Someone from the group – Teyla, based on size and build – turned and waved at him. He returned the wave as he trudged upward, concentrating on breathing and not getting flattened by flying rocks. By the time he reached the top, he felt like he'd run a marathon, but his concern for himself vanished when he reached Teyla who was cradling her left arm and had a line of drying blood snaking down her face.

"You okay?"

Teyla gave a slight nod. "We were caught in the final slide that knocked the ship off the mountain." She cast her gaze around the group, most of whom sported bandages and wraps. "We need to get these people home so that Doctor Keller can fully assess their injuries."

John braced his arm on the cave entrance for support as his heart thrashed in his chest. "We'll send someone back for the equipment." He glanced around. "Where's Ronon?"

"Here." Ronon stepped out of the cave with a grimace. "Your face is purple."

"And your shoulder is dislocated. Again." Alarms bells were ringing in John's head, but his brain was too fuzzy to make sense of them.

Ronon shrugged his good shoulder. "Nothing a beer and pizza can't cure."

John would have laughed at the callback if he'd had the breath; instead he grinned and rolled his eyes. "I'll have Lorne take point." He paused to study the band of wounded, taking the opportunity to suck in some air, then wilted a little when Lorne's team passed by him, nodding as they hobbled out of the cave. Two of them had ankles wrapped and were leaning on each other. Another had an arm with a compound fracture strapped to his chest. Lorne had a bloody gash on his forehead and his right pant leg was in tatters. John turned to Ronon and Teyla. "Looks like we have a few people with leg injuries. You two help them down as best you can. I'll take the six…" Something wasn't right. "Does it seem quieter than usual to you?"

Teyla offered blister packs of Tylenol to Lorne's team. "Most people are preoccupied with their wounds."

John spun in a circle, fear piercing through his chest as he finally figured out the warning blaring in his head. "Where's McKay?"

Ronon whirled to duck back in the cave while Teyla did a head count. John took a step then another toward where the ship had been. He'd checked every habitable compartment; he knew he had.

"We are missing two," Teyla reported as she and Ronon approached. "Rodney and Doctor Zelenka."

Oh, God. How could he have missed them?

John stalked over to Doctor Kusinagi. "Have you seen McKay and Zelenka?"

Kusinagi shook her head. "They were investigating a section we couldn't identify. It was a small room outside the main entrance to engineering."

John nodded his thanks and stepped away, closing his eyes. He'd gone in that room, had noted the path that had been carved through the rubble to the console in the corner and the canteen of water sitting on a platform. John moved away to an isolated spot and pulled the life signs detector from his vest. Seven people in the cave. Fifteen more outside, including him. That left two unaccounted. He swallowed thickly and turned the scanner toward the cliff's edge, setting it to maximum.

Nothing.

He hadn't expected anything. Either they were dead or they were somewhere else on the mountain. John set his radio to McKay's private channel and toggled it on. "Rodney, do you read me?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the headache pounding behind his eyes while he waited for an answer. When he didn't get one, he switched to the main channel and tried again. "McKay, Zelenka, this is Sheppard. Please respond."

Every head in the camp swiveled his way. Ignoring them, he called again on the emergency channel and the science department channel. Rocks clattered past, and John lifted his eyes to the ridge above the cave. A boulder the size of a jumper wobbled unsteadily as smaller stones sluiced around it.

The rest of the mission team was in danger.

John walked toward the cave. "Time to go. Lorne, take point. When you—"

The LSD beeped.

Still set to maximum, it was registering two additional life signs on the edge of its range, near the summit which was at least another three thousand feet up.

"John, what is it?" Teyla asked.

"I found them, though how the hell they got up there," he waved upward, "is beyond me. I told them not to leave the crash site." John turned to Lorne. "Get these people home and send back a rescue team and medical help. Figure out a way to get them here in a jumper."

"Yes, sir," Lorne replied. "What about you?"

"I'm going after them."

"Not alone, you're not." Ronon moved to John's side. "I'm going with you."

"Normally, I wouldn't have it any other way, big guy, but you're hurt."

"I can still—"

John held up a hand. "And these people need your help. It's a long trek back to the gate, and we've got multiple injuries." He offered a wry grin. "I'll wrangle those two if you can get the other fifteen home."

Teyla's eyes were dark with worry. "Are you certain?"

"I've got two good arms and two good legs, which is more than any of the rest of you can say." John held her gaze. "All I know is that they're alive. They could be injured. They're definitely in danger if they're in the middle of that rock slide. I can't leave here without them."

She squeezed his arm. "Be safe."

Lorne nodded at him then rounded up his team and began to organize the injured into groups.

"You sure about this?" Ronon asked.

"I'm sure McKay had better have a damn good excuse for being on the top of this mountain." John would rip Rodney a new one after he was sure he was going to live. "Now, get these people home and send the cavalry."

Ronon helped a startled Kusinagi to her feet and guided her toward the group Lorne had assigned him. "Beer and pizza," he called.

"Beer and pizza," John agreed. "I like mine with extra cheese."

"And vaksil."

"No vaksil!" John hated those bitter purple berries that Ronon ate like candy. "You hear me?"

Ronon grinned and waved. John watched as they fumbled and tumbled their way toward the path some herd or gaggle or pride had packed down in the distant past. Then John turned and stared up at the boulder still swaying over his head. With a sigh, he started climbing.

He didn't get far before the coughing started, rumbling through his chest until tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. A glance back at the group confirmed his initial assessment – none of them were in any shape to climb. The path they were on ended a few feet short of the crash site. The climb up would be precarious, requiring all four limbs. The tightness in his chest was inconsequential compared to leaving behind two people in unknown condition.

Partially known, he corrected himself. They were alive. Nothing else mattered.

John focused on the climb – a handhold here, a small ledge there. He huddled under an overhang as rocks tumbled past. Sometimes he had to crawl to get up a steep incline. He banged his knee and sliced his elbow. Sweat soaked his clothes. The cough became constant and his head felt like spikes were being driven in from all sides. But the dots on the LSD were like magnets, drawing him upward.

He stopped every five minutes to call McKay and Zelenka. About halfway up, he got a reply.

"Sheppard? Oh, thank God," McKay cried. "I thought we were dead for sure this time."

John rested his forehead on the rock he was clinging to. Later, he would give McKay an earful on getting separated from the group, but right now, he didn't have the breath to spare. "You okay?"

"Well, if you call being stuck with Zelenka for two hours in a room with no doors or windows okay, then yeah."

Ouch. Rodney's claustrophobia ought to be in high gear. He was lucky Zelenka hadn't killed him by now.

"How're you doing, Radek?"

"I have been better, Colonel." Zelenka sounded weary to the bone. "I would like to go home now."

"Working on it." John pulled out the LSD and checked his heading. "Be there in about an hour."

"An hour!" McKay exclaimed. "Are you taking the scenic route?"

"You're on the top of the damn mountain, Rodney." John hit mute and coughed until he thought a lung was coming up. He wiped the flecks of blood on his trousers, waited until most of the wheezing subsided, and turned the sound back on. "I'm doing the best I can."

All the bluster went out of McKay's voice. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you sound like a ninety year-old with emphysema. Where's Ronon?"

"Headed to the gate. Injuries from a rock slide. I'll explain it all later."

"What is wrong with you?"

John sighed. McKay could be a pit bull sometimes, and this sounded like one of those times. "I'm not a doctor, Rodney, but if I had to guess, the altitude is messing with my lungs." He'd seen it several times during his climbs in Yosemite. His instructors – for free-climbing and for pilot training – had taught him the importance of acclimating to the elevation before physical exertion, but Rodney and Radek needed him. In the past, altitude hadn't bothered him, but he hadn't already been ill when he'd started, unlike now. He sneezed and moaned slightly when the pressure made his eyes feel like they were going to pop out.

"Can you do this?"

"I'll be fine."

"Seriously, John, can you really do this? It's not like we're going anywhere."

John ducked as another boulder rolled past. "Did I mention the rock slide?"

"It hasn't stopped? That is so not good. You've got to get us out of here before… Wait a minute. You're climbing up here in the middle of a rock slide? Are you nuts?"

"So I've been told."

John spotted the next handhold and began to crab his way up the face of the cliff. McKay jabbered constantly in his ear, with the occasional interjection by Zelenka, and after a while it became a bit of a lifeline. John tuned out the actual words – listening required concentration and he needed all he had to breathe – but he let the voices draw him upward. He pushed away the aching muscles, the too-tight chest, and the headache from hell, and just climbed.

When he reached a ledge big enough for him to stand on unaided, he gulped from his canteen and checked the LSD. They should be right above him. John bent over and coughed, grimacing at the bloody spray he left on the rock below. What had been a wheeze was now a loud crackle. He had rales. Great.

"Sheppard? You still there?"

"Still here, McKay." John swished water in his mouth and spat. He hated the taste of blood. "Just a few more minutes."

"Oh, okay. I told Zelenka you were fine, but he was getting nervous."

John grinned as he scrambled up the last few feet. While he would rather have his fingernails ripped off than admit it, having someone express concern over his well-being really touched him. Mom and Nancy had been the only people who fretted over him until his team. Teyla was more overt – if she was worried, she asked. While McKay would ask, he would deflect the worry onto someone else or make it all about him. Ronon rarely mentioned anything, but he would move closer and keep a hand free and ready.

One more fingertip grip later and John was pulling himself onto a plateau of sorts. The surface was big enough to land a jumper, but the cliff face extended up another couple hundred feet. However, what he was looking for was perched precariously in the corner of the plateau, and surrounded by boulders. When the small dome shook, it slipped an inch toward the precipice and rock rained down the mountain.

John struggled to his feet, chest heaving. "McKay?"

"What? What is it?"

"I'm here." John stumbled toward the cliff face and leaned against it, closing his eyes against the rising nausea. "You're in a dome-like structure that's covered in rock." He paused to cough and rinse his mouth out again. "Every time you move, the dome slides a little closer to the edge. I need you to be very still."

"Still. I can—we can be still. Very still."

Trailing a hand on the cliff face for support, John forced his legs to carry him to the dome. Smooth, flimsy metal, no obvious seams. What was it for?

"McKay, how did you get here?"

"One minute Radek and I are working on that transporter, and the next, we're here."

"Transporter?" John got as close as he dared, looking for the magic 'open' button. "What about 'Don't leave the crash site' was unclear?"

"Yes, well, we weren't trying to leave." McKay sounded annoyed, which meant he was blaming himself. "We were trying to beam out a canteen of water to see if the thing worked."

"It definitely works," muttered Zelenka.

"Yes, it does," McKay snapped. "Because I'm here, and look! No water."

John sank to his hands and knees, head bowed. "Any energy readings?"

"Something very weak over… Hey! You're right outside. I can see you on the life signs detector." The structure wobbled and sent more rock showering down the mountain.

"No moving!"

"We didn't move, Colonel," Radek said.

The dome was more unstable than he'd realized. How long did they have before it plummeted down? John drew in a shallow, ragged breath. "Where is the energy reading?"

"Should be right in front of you." McKay sounded subdued. "We aren't going to make it, are we?"

"Buck up, Rodney." John stared at the pile of rock. How the hell was he going to move all of it without sending himself, McKay and Zelenka over the edge? "Is it Asgard tech?"

"Yes."

Damn. Couldn't use his gene. John studied the mound, seeking which stone could be removed without disturbing the others. He'd always been good at Jenga. This wasn't too different, except the stakes were higher. Much higher.

He pulled out the first rock and silently exulted when the mound stayed solid. One by one, he removed the stones until he spotted a flashing light. He cleared the rock away from what appeared to be a control panel.

"Found something," John called. "Looks like the writing is Asgard."

"What does it say?" McKay asked.

"I don't know, Rodney. I can't read Asgard."

"Would not make much difference," Zelenka said. "This language is very different than that of the Asgard we have met in the past."

"Ten thousand years apart might have something to do with that."

"I know that, Rodney. I am merely pointing out that even if Colonel Sheppard had learned Asgard, he most likely wouldn't be able to decipher what the panel says."

John sighed. "Can one of you?"

"If we could see it. Jeannie can snap a picture of Madison with her phone and I can see it in Pegasus, but you can't show me what's on the other side of this damn wall."

"Have we tried?" John asked.

"Tried what?"

"Using the life signs detector to capture images."

"Of course, we tried. Do you think I spend all that time in my lab playing video golf?"

"Easy, Rodney. I was just asking. I'll order smart phones for everyone when we get back. But for now, how do I operate it?"

"I have no idea!"

"What do you see, Colonel?"

John wiped the panel, careful to not press anything. "A readout with Asgard characters in it."

"Are they scrolling?"

"No. There are three lights underneath it. One is kind of icy blue. The next is white, and the final one is flashing gold."

"Describe the characters," McKay said.

John did his best to describe the angular slashes of the pictogram before him. While McKay and Zelenka discussed the translation, John massaged his temples and sipped water. The dome shook slightly, sending rocks scattering.

John laid his hands on the stones around the panel. "No pacing, McKay."

"I was not… Fine," McKay huffed. "We, uh, we think it says 'ready.'"

"Ready? Ready for what?"

"We don't know, Colonel."

The dome trembled, the flimsy metal rippling under John's hands.

"I think you should push the flashing button," McKay said.

"Based on what?"

"Instinct. You need to press the button."

"And if you're in an incinerator?"

"Oh, thanks for that lovely image." When McKay spoke again, his tone was somber. "Look, John, we can't stay here forever. I can feel the rocks shifting, and your breathing is getting worse. I doubt the Asgard went to all this trouble for a place to burn trash."

"Then what's it for?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's to transport prisoners or cargo. Maybe this is their idea of a time-out. With the ship destroyed, we'll probably never know."

"Radek?"

"I agree, Colonel. Push the button."

Rock skittered past his boot, and the dome slid forward another inch, making the decision for him.

"Here goes nothing," John muttered, and pressed the button.

An Asgard-sized opening melted away from the front of the dome. John's left leg buckled, and he dropped gracelessly to the ground as Radek poked his head out and took a deep breath.

"Go!" McKay barked. "You aren't the only one who needs fresh air."

Zelenka stumbled over the carpet of jagged rock and away from the dome that swayed alarmingly. McKay followed quickly, hunching over to squeeze out of the exit.

"Wide open skies. Why do I spend so much time…" McKay trailed off as he caught sight of John. "Oh, my God."

John waved weakly, unable to draw enough breath to speak.

McKay searched his vest pockets as he hurried to John's side. "Voodoo isn't my specialty. I don't know what to do to help you."

"We need to get him to a lower elevation," Zelenka said. "You see the broken capillaries in his face and how blue his lips are? How he gurgles when he breathes? His lungs are filled with fluid. He cannot get enough oxygen."

The dome shifted again. John clutched at McKay's sleeve, pulling him away from the tumbling rock.

"Right. We need to get away from the dome of doom. Radek?"

John would have protested being carried if he hadn't been so damn tired. McKay and Zelenka picked him up and shuffled to the other end of the plateau, gently propping him against the cliff face since, as Radek pointed out, being upright made breathing easier.

McKay stepped to the edge and peered down. "You actually free-climbed this? You're crazier than I thought." He walked back and sat down at John's side. "How did you think we were going to get down? I can't climb that, and I'm not just saying that to be lazy. I've never been mountain climbing in my life. I wouldn't have the first idea how to go up much less go down, short of falling, and since I'm rather attached to living, I'm trying to avoid the falling part." He sighed and met John's eyes. "I can't carry you down."

"I know." John leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Told Lorne…to bring…a jumper."

"The stargate is in the back of a narrow cavern. How do you think he's going to fly out of there?"

John grinned. "Very carefully."

A low rumble shook the plateau as the rock surrounding the dome came loose. The dome teetered wildly then plunged down the mountain, bits of metal sheering off as it went.

"Did you see that?" McKay gasped. "I could have died in that thing. If you… if we…"

As the tightness in his chest grew, John let McKay's babble wash over him like a balm, grounding him. Lorne would figure out how to navigate that cavern because he was as adamant about not leaving people behind as John was. All John had to do was keep breathing until Lorne got there.

"Sheppard?"

John cracked his eyes open. "Stop…staring."

"Don't flatter yourself." McKay pulled out his computer tablet. "I was just making sure you weren't dead."

"Not dead yet," John whispered, blinking at the grayness surrounding him. He thought the sky was getting darker at first; then he realized it was his vision. He felt a solid presence settle on his other side and press fingers to his carotid.

"His pulse is weak, Rodney," Zelenka said.

McKay leaned into John's face. "You're not giving up, are you? I mean, you're the one who's always telling me to be positive. How's it going to look if you give up five minutes before Lorne – who's only slightly less crazy than you – comes barreling out of that cavern?"

John let his lids slide shut, unable to hold them open any longer. His breath came in shallow pants, and the elephant sitting on his chest kept growing.

"Come on, Sheppard." A hand lightly slapped his cheek. "Hang in there."

John clawed at the ground, struggling for breath.

"Help me get him up, Radek."

Hands grabbed his wrists and arms wrapped around his waist. A second later, John was on his feet, only his legs refused to work. He sagged between them, relieved to feel the pressure ease a little, and grinned when his radio came to life.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Lorne. We're locked on your position. There in three minutes."

"This is McKay. Make it one minute, Major."

"And take care on your approach," Zelenka added. "The ground is unstable."

"Copy that. Lorne out."

John's skin prickled and his spine tingled as the Ancient tech neared. Wind gusted as a jumper with a dent in the nose and a long scratch down one side rose before them with Ronon hovering at the hatch entrance as it lowered. McKay and Zelenka dragged John toward the ramp, and Ronon met them at the bottom.

"Gonna have to eat that pizza by myself?" Ronon asked as he took Zelenka's place.

John shook his head weakly.

"Good." Ronon deposited him on a bench next to Keller. "Let's go!"

Keller pressed an oxygen mask to John's face as the hatch closed and the jumper banked right. The next few minutes were a blur of voices, hands, and the disorienting spin of wormhole travel. John floated on the edge of consciousness, sucking in blessed oxygen. By the time he was fully aware again, he was lying upright in the infirmary, hooked to oxygen and fluids and a boatload of machines.

John rolled his head to the right. A wall, bedrail, an IV in his arm. He flexed his fingers, frowning at the blue tint to his nails. He looked left and spotted the pulse oximeter. Ninety percent oxygen saturation – much lower than his usual ninety-nine percent. At least the elephant had been downgraded to a hippo.

"Feeling better?" McKay was standing at the end of the bed, arms folded over his chest, eyes pinched tight. "You're a little closer to lavender than the violet color you were when we got here."

John drew in a deep breath, coughed, and inhaled again. "Much better."

"Jennifer says your body will absorb the fluids after a few days of rest and oxygen." McKay drew a chair near and sat down. "Look, about what happened on the planet…"

"Which part?"

"The part where you almost died coming after me and Radek."

"Oh, that part. Not your fault, McKay."

"I know that." McKay pushed out of the chair and paced at the foot of John's bed. "We didn't mean to transport ourselves to the top of the mountain or to disturb the rock and cause a rock slide, and we certainly had no way of knowing that your mild case of bronchitis would turn into high altitude pulmonary edema when you came for us. Of course it's not our fault. Why would anyone think—"

"Rodney."

"Yes, sorry. Anyway, we didn't mean for any of that to happen, but it did." The flush started at McKay's neck and flooded upward. "And I'm sorry that it happened, that you… you know." McKay met his eyes. "I'm really sorry, John."

"Apology accepted." John picked up the cup of water from his nightstand and took a sip. "Now, did you get anything useful from that ship?"

Relief flitted over McKay's face as he plopped in his chair. "Still working on it. Kusinagi thinks she has a lead on how they penetrated our shield."

"So, the mission wasn't a total loss." John's mouth began to water when the aroma of hot pizza wafted his way. "Get in here, Ronon."

Ronon strolled in, carrying a pizza in each hand, and Teyla followed with a casted arm filled of drinks, plates, and napkins. Ronon put the food on a rolling tray table while McKay pulled two more chairs over and Teyla handed out drinks.

John wrinkled his nose. "Sprite?"

"Keller said no sedatives for you for a while," Ronon said. "That includes beer."

"What about me?" McKay asked.

"No one is having beer." Teyla handed him a root beer. "Except for this kind."

John smirked at Rodney and reached for a piece of pizza. "Vaksil? I distinctly remember saying no vaksil."

Ronon snatched the pizza from him and gave him a slice from the other pie, one with pepperoni, black olives and lots and lots of cheese. John took a big bite, seeing how far the cheese would string before it broke. McKay rolled his eyes then tried the same thing. Teyla won. Ronon layered two slices together and stuffed half in his mouth.

"You gonna be okay?" Ronon asked between bites.

John grinned. "Nothing a pizza with my team won't cure."

Written for stellapegasi for the sgahcchallenges fic exchange. Many thanks to kristen999 for the beta. All faults mine.