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Stargate Atlantis: No One Loves Kavanagh

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Title: A Million Galaxies Away  

Author/pseudonym: Tinnean  

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis  

Pairing: Kavanagh/Bates, Kavanagh/OMC, implied Kavanagh/Wallis and Kavanagh/Grodin  

Rating: FRM  

Disclaimer: All things SGA belong to Brad Wright and Robert Cooper. And Sci-Fi. However, Corporal Gardner, Dr. Boek, and Dr. Vorstedt are mine.  

Status: new/complete  

Date: 10/18/06  

Series/Sequel: This is three in the No One Loves Kavanagh series and follows Hollow Man.

Summary: With his lover dead and contact with Earth established once more, Kavanagh has no reason to remain in the Pegasus Galaxy.  

Warnings: Implied non con. Minor spoilers for 38 Minutes, Hot Zone, and Letters from Pegasus, and more major ones for The Siege, Parts 1, 2, and 3.  

Notes: Although Tony has assured me that in canon, Liz and Simon *aren't* married, in order for Kavanagh's hostility toward Liz to make sense, I've chosen this route for them. I've also compressed the time line of events of The Siege 3 a bit. This is for the 14 Months/14 Fics/Icons challenge. Thanks to altorogue and eviljr of the Kavtolanon comm for their help in explaining why Kavanagh didn't gate back to Earth. And, as always, many thanks to Gail for the beta.


A Million Galaxies Away

By Tinnean


I was unpacking my belongings in one of the huts those on the Alpha site had erected once this place had been determined to be safe. We weren't a million galaxies away from Earth and its relative safety, but it felt that way.  

I refused to regret that Simon Wallis was not here. True, I'd loved him enough to leave the planet of my birth in hopes of spending the rest of my life with him, only to learn upon arriving in the city of the Ancients that he wasn't among the expeditionists, but how could I want him here to face the threat of the Wraith?  

A noise outside the hut drew my attention.  

The Stargate had been activated, and the IDC was that of Eugene Bates, sergeant in the Marines. I was surprised by that. The last I had heard, he'd been in a medically induced coma in sickbay after suffering a violent assault.  

I wondered if this was either someone's idea of a joke or if it was something the military had concocted to see if we were on our toes.  

Bates came through the iris, his stride purposeful and with just a hint of cocky swagger. Although I assured myself otherwise, I couldn't help noticing there was something about the way he held himself, about the way that uniform seemed to emphasize his compact body…  

I banished all those thoughts. I'd been burned by my attraction to Peter Grodin, who I had thought might perhaps fill the hole in my heart left by Simon's absence, and I had no intention of putting my heart at risk ever again.  

Other soldiers who were here on the site to protect us – as if anything could protect us if the Wraith discovered this place – crowded around him. He was well-liked and well-respected.  

"Gene, you dirty dog!"  

"Hey, Sarge!"  

"Glad to see you back with us, hoss!"  

"You sure don't look as if you've had hell beaten out of you. How'd you manage that?"  

Sergeant Bates grinned at them. I'd always thought he had an attractive smile, although of course it had never  been directed at me. "In a nutshell, Doc… " That would be Dr. Carson Beckett, chief medical doctor on Atlantis. "… found an Ancient device that repaired the broken ribs and busted collarbone and took care of my concussion. He was able to reverse the effects of the coma, and there you have it."  

"Well, we're sure as shit glad to see you!"  

"Thanks. I'm glad to be back." He sobered and got down to business. "I've got news, men. SG-1 was able to send us a contingent of Marines. Colonel Everett is leading them."  

The name meant nothing to me, but the men murmured in approval. "It'll be good to have a Marine in charge again. Oh, Major Sheppard is a good guy for a flyboy, but face it, he's not one of us grunts."  

Sergeant Bates didn't take the man to task. He shrugged. "I'm just glad the Doc got me back in time to join the fun."  

Was the man insane? Facing a life-sucking species was *not* any rational man's notion of fun!  

"Okay, listen up, people," he called out. "We're going to need every available man and woman in order to win this battle. Colonel Everett sent me here to ask for volunteers."  

"I'll go." My mouth was dry. I knew that despite the contempt I felt for Elizabeth Weir and her incompetence in running the Ancients' city, I'd have to step forward.  

"You?" Bates was surprised, I noted with some bitterness, but why should I expect anything else? I offered valid objections to Major Sheppard being allowed back on Atlantis with an Iratus bug, the progenitors of the Wraith, on his face – hadn't anyone seen Alien? – and I was mocked and virtually emasculated by that Weir witch. However, let her propound something insane, guaranteed to see us all killed, vis-à-vis that fiasco with the nanovirus, as well as alienate our allies, and they fell all over themselves to follow her orders.  

Halling, the leader of the Athosians, dropped a warm hand on my shoulder. "May the powers that protect us all be watching over you this day, Miles Kavanagh."  

I touched my forehead to his in the Athosian way.  

"If… If I don't… "  

I entered my hut, rummaged through my belongings, and retrieved a pendant similar to the one I wore. It contained an odorless, colorless gas that was guaranteed to kill painlessly within the first three breaths. I had developed the formula on my own and offered it to Dr. McKay, the leading scientist on Atlantis, only to have it refused.  

I'd originally intended to give it to Peter Grodin, who I'd thought loved me until I learned his affection for me was nothing more than a cruel joke and had broken it off with him. I'd rebuffed all his attempts to explain, all his little gifts, and finally he'd left me a voice mail, swearing that while it had started as a joke, he had sincerely come to care for me.  

Perhaps he had, but he was dead now, whatever atoms that were left, floating in space after the Wraith Hive ships had destroyed the satellite on which he'd been stranded.  

Again I banished thoughts of him. I was becoming rather good at that.  

I returned to the clearing where everyone was gathered. "Give this to Jinto."  

Halling knew what the pendant held. His eyes were sorrowful, but he didn't offer false hope. Even with the additional Marines, our chances weren't good of surviving this day.  

"I will do this, my friend, that he may remember you, and if it should come to pass that the Wraith discover this planet, I will see that my son inhales the gas before I allow him to be culled."  

We touched foreheads once more, and then I turned and walked toward the wormhole.  


On Atlantis, things were chaos. Whether controlled or otherwise, it was difficult to ascertain. Everyone seemed to be running, shouting, loading their weapons. I could smell the stench of fear, and I knew some of it was mine.  

"Well, Dr. Kavanagh, welcome to the party." Sergeant Bates thrust some kind of gun into my hand.  

"I… " I swallowed. "I've never fired a gun before."  

"Civilians," he growled under his breath. "All you have to do is point and shoot, Doc."  

I flinched. 'Doc' was what Peter Grodin had called me. Sergeant Bates didn't appear to notice.  

"Now, this is how you reload." He demonstrated, then shoved a handful of clips at me. I stuffed them into my pockets. "Okay, here we go, Doc. Just don't shoot yourself in the foot. And try to make every bullet count."  

"Where… where should I go?" My fingers closed convulsively around the pendant I wore.  

Bates grinned, a hard, savage twist of his lips. I realized his expression was that of a warrior about to go into battle. In spite of myself, I had to admit I found that look… intriguing.  

"Pick a corridor and knock yourself out." He turned and called to his men, and they disappeared down a corridor. I knew he'd completely forgotten me.  

I was no warrior.  

I tightened my grip on the gun, chose a corridor at random, and began to make my way down it.  


I'd always wondered about the movies I'd seen, where the police officer or the soldier or even the secret agent held his weapon with two hands. It had seemed such an act of sheer bravura, so showy and unnecessary.  

It was necessary, I found. My hand shook so hard I needed the support of the other to keep my aim straight enough to avoid shooting myself in the foot, as Bates had warned me against.  

I knew I had killed some Wraith – I'd seen the bodies fall – and now there was only a single clip left in my pocket.  

I reloaded and rounded a corner, to find a Wraith backing Sergeant Bates against a wall. There was no one else around, and the sergeant's gun clicked futilely.  

"Son of a bitch!" Bates hurled his weapon at the Wraith's head. It ducked, and the gun went sailing harmlessly by.  

"Hey! Dracula!" I shouted with some bravado, and the Wraith turned its head. It was one of the guards that had no discernible features, and my insides turned to water. It took a step toward me, its hand outstretched and the talons on its fingers curved in preparation to enter my chest.  

I raised the gun – in two hands – and fired. The sodden sound of the projectile entering the misshapen face and erupting out of the back of its skull was not something I would ever forget, and I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat.  

"Thanks, Doc. Thought I was a goner there for a minute."  

I frowned but decided to ignore his calling me 'Doc.' "Glad to be of service."  

"Are you, Doc?" A flush mounted his cheeks, and his eyes took on a feral blaze.  

I licked my lips and backed a step away. "Well, I… I guess I'll just find another… another Wraith to shoot."  

"That was a good shot, Doc."  

"Thank you." I tried to smile at him, but I wasn't sure how successful it was. "I'll be moving along now." I backed another step. The expression on his face made my mouth go dry and my insides curl, although not with quite the same emotion that facing the Wraith had.  

Abruptly he bounded forward, and I found myself spun around and pushed into a wall. The gun flew from my hand, and I heard it skid across the floor.  

"Oh! What… what are you doing?" I gasped, the breath knocked out of me.  

"Sorry, Doc. Can't… can't be as thorough as I'd like." His breath was hot on the back of my neck. "Not the place to drop my linen. But I'm definitely gonna start my grinnin'!" His lips fastened on the side of my neck, and I was suddenly, achingly, aroused. He began to suck hard, all the while thrusting his erection against my buttocks.  

Was I insane? Was the man insane? We'd been facing the Wraith all day, and he'd nearly had his life force sucked out of him!  

His hand reached around to rub my erection, and I moaned.  

He laughed, hoarse and hot in my ear. "That's it, baby. Let me hear how much you want it."  

I *didn't* want it. Did I?  

"Next time… " He moved aside the tail in which I wore my hair and licked the side of my neck. "… next time I want your hair down."  

Next time? Did he really think…  

"Come on, Doc. Shove back against me."  

'Doc?' Memories of Grodin filled my mind, and my erection deflated. Sergeant Bates wasn't doing this because he was attracted to me. It was simply a warrior's reaction. Any warm body would have done.  

"Stop, you must stop!" I was trapped there, an unyielding wall to my front, an aroused soldier to my rear, and any attempt to struggle just seemed to enflame him further. "Please… " My voice broke. "Please stop."  

Bates growled something unintelligible in my ear and went still. Instead of stepping away from me, he groaned and slumped to the floor.  

Finally freed from my position against the wall, I turned and stared down at his body. "Sergeant Bates? Sergeant?"  

The front of his uniform trousers was dry, and I was thankful that he hadn't climaxed. But what had happened?  

A thin trickle of blood seeped from his nose, and I crouched beside the still form, pressed my fingertips to the side of his throat, and felt for his pulse.  

//I'm not a medical doctor,// I thought with a tinge of panic. I had no idea if it was beating too quickly or not quickly enough.  

There was the pounding of footsteps coming toward us, and I glanced up. The Marines who rounded the corner, P-90s at the ready, skidded to a halt.  

"Get away from him!" one growled, and I rose hastily and backed away. "*Doc*!"  

I blinked at the Marine in confusion. Why was he shouting for me? I was right in front of him.  

Dr. Beckett came hurrying along, and I realized he was the one being summoned. He knelt beside Sergeant Bates and felt his pulse and raised an eyelid.  

The Marines snarled and glared at me.  

"I… I didn't do anything." I made sure I stood with my back to the wall.  

"No. You never do, do you? He's like this because he saved your ass, didn't he?" They all looked toward the dead Wraith.  

My mouth dropped and my eyes widened. "*I* shot the Wraith!"  

"Yeah, yeah, a likely story."  

"But… " They turned away from me, focusing their attention on their downed comrade.  

"What do you make of it, Doc?" Major Sheppard had arrived on the scene with a Marine who had eagles on his shoulders. I assumed he was Colonel Everett.  

Dr. Beckett tsked, opened the sergeant's shirt and studied the pale torso, then sighed and shook his head.  

"I dinna understand it," Beckett murmured in his soft Scottish burr. "There does na seem to be a mark on him. What happened, Dr. Kavanagh?"  

"I… The Wraith… He… "            

"It's obvious, isn't it, Dr. Beckett?" The colonel asked impatiently. "A Marine was injured trying to save this civilian's sorry ass."  

No one stepped forward to remind him that was why the Marines were here on Atlantis.  

"No!" I tried to defend myself. "It wasn't like that! Sergeant Bates' gun was empty… "  

One of the Marines picked up Bates' gun and ejected the clip. He glanced at the Colonel. "There are plenty of rounds left, sir."  

"You're confined to your quarters until further notice, Dr. Kavanagh."  

"For god's sake, at least let me explain!"  

"Corporal Gardner, escort the doctor to his quarters, please."  

"But I… "  

The corporal took my arm just above the elbow. He exerted a little pressure, and pain shot up my arm to my brain, nearly exploding out of the top of my skull. My legs turned to rubber and started to give out from under me. He grinned at the other Marines.  

"I guess the excitement was just too much for him." He strode away, dragging me after him. "You'd better hope Gene pulls out of this, *Doctor* Kavanagh," he hissed, "'cause if he doesn't, every single Marine left alive is gonna blame you for it, and we're gonna make your life a living hell!"  

He slapped his palm against the plate by my door and shoved me inside. I wasn't expecting that, and I stumbled over my own feet and fell to the floor. By the time I got back to my feet, the door was closed. He must have done something to it, because I couldn't get it to open again.  


After I'd stripped out of clothes that were clammy with the sweat of fear and nervous tension, showered, and dressed, I curled in on myself on my bed, clutching the pendant tightly in my hand, and waited, for what I had no idea. There was nothing for me to do – my notebook was still in the hut on the Alpha site – so I lay there, staring at the wall, ruing the day I'd ever decided to follow Simon Wallis, my one-time lover, to this benighted city.  

When Simon and I had first become lovers, I'd had no idea he was married. And when I'd learned that his wife, Elizabeth Weir, was to be the civilian head of the Atlantis expedition, I'd leaped at the opportunity to become an expeditionist, certain that Simon would go there also.  

I'd arrived in Atlantis to learn that Simon had remained behind on Earth. According to Elizabeth Weir, it was by his own choice. He probably had no idea that I would be there also.  

Gradually I'd begun to… not recover from my love for Simon, for I would love him for the rest of my life, but to accept the fact that for the rest of my life I'd be alone. What alternative had I had but to accept it, really? We'd all known that the trip to Atlantis was a one way journey, the odds of returning to Earth so minimal that there was no use even attempting to calculate them. I would never see Simon again.  

I was startled when Peter Grodin began spending time with me. I distrusted him at first – he was in Weir's pocket, after all – but he brought me flowers, sat beside me on movie nights and shared his popcorn, went for walks with me to the east pier, and eventually I came to believe he cared for me.  

Persuaded of that, I surrendered my body to him, only to learn the following morning that it had been nothing more than a joke. Peter's… Grodin's colleagues had wagered that he'd never be able to get me in bed with him, and he'd set out to prove them wrong, which he had, with my unwitting cooperation.  

Granted he'd sent me a voice mail swearing that while it had started out as a joke, he'd grown to love me, but how could I believe him? How could I allow myself to believe him?  

And what was wrong with me, to let Sergeant Bates use me like that? He didn't care a loonie about me. Had I lost my mind? Hadn't I learned anything?  

A knock on my door jolted me out of my reverie and back to the situation in which I found myself. What did they have intended for me?  

I got to my feet and crossed to the door, touching the hand plate. The retrovirus hadn't worked for me, and unlike some in Atlantis who could 'think' the doors open, I had to do it manually.  

The knocking became impatient. Only then did I remember that the door wouldn't open for me.  

"You'll have to open the door from your side. I can't open it."  

It slid back silently to reveal a scientist whose shoulder patch indicated that he was South African, and I scowled at him. Dr. Rolf Vorstedt, who'd made it very obvious that he wanted me during those first stressful days in Atlantis, and who hadn't accepted being rebuffed at all well, stood there. He was a big man, tall and broad, and I'd always felt uncomfortable in his presence.  

Cool and disinterested, that was how I needed to appear. "Did you want something, Dr. Vorstedt?"  

A smirk twisted his lips, and he stepped into my quarters. The door shut behind him, and I took an involuntary step back.  

"Why are you here?"  

"Why do you think I'm here?"  

"I'm not in the mood to play games, Dr. Vorstedt." My voice sounded strident, even to my own ears. Well, so much for cool and disinterested.  

"Aren't you?" He came closer to me, and I continued stepping back. "Are you sure? It seems to me that you need a friend, right now. Very badly." The way his eyes ran over my body seemed to strip me of my clothes. "You know the facts of life. You're not a virgin, after all." His smile began to frighten me, and my stomach churned as I recalled Dr. Boek at Stargate Command, who'd coerced me into having sex with him in exchange for the opportunity to become one of the expeditionists to Atlantis.  

The wall was at my back, and I couldn't retreat any farther. Vorstedt removed my glasses and tossed them aside. Fortunately, they landed on the bed. He ran the flat of his hand over my cheek and down to my throat.  

"Pretty. So pretty." Abruptly his fingers encircled my throat. I swallowed, and my adam's apple could barely move against the pressure of his fingers. "You'll be nice to me, won't you, Miles?" I hated the way my name sounded on his lips. "After all, you were nice to that … " His expression darkened. "To Grodin."  

"You… you want me to be nice to you?"  

"Yes." He leaned forward, and I wondered if he was going to caress the side of my neck with his lips. He froze and yanked down my collar. "What. Is. This?"  

"What … " My whisper was hoarse. All I could seem to do was repeat his words. "What is what?"  

"Who marked you? Who marked my property?" he roared.  

"I don't belong to you." I remembered Sergeant Bates sucking on my neck. "I don't belong to anyone."  

"Don't you? We'll see about that." He lowered his mouth to my neck and bit down.  

Pain exploded from that spot, and I thought I was going to faint. He began to suck strongly.  

I struggled in his grip, but even as feeble as the movements were, it felt as if my throat was being ripped apart, and I had to stop.  

And then he threw me away from him. My hand went involuntarily to my neck, which throbbed painfully, and I flinched.  

"We'll continue this… " Blood was smeared over his lips and chin. He licked it off his lips and smiled, then took a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned off the rest of it. "… conversation later, Miles." He stalked out of the room.  

I shuddered. Not even waiting for the door to slide closed, I ran into the bathroom and vomited into the commode.  

When I could vomit nothing more, I crossed to the sink, to stare horrified at my reflection. Blood oozed from the wound on my neck. It stained the collar of my uniform jacket. My stomach roiled, and I swallowed repeatedly. Once I was certain I wouldn't vomit again, I removed my jacket and threw it into the basket that was my hamper, washed my face and rinsed my mouth, then wet a washcloth and dabbed gently at the perfect impression of Vorstedt's teeth.  

I smeared some antibiotic ointment over the wound, bandaged it, and put on a clean jacket, fastening it to the top so the bandage wasn't visible.  

And then I heard someone in the outer room. Had Vorstedt returned? Fear stabbed through me, and I glanced around for something I could use as a weapon. There was nothing. Except…  

I took the water glass and prepared to break it against the sink.  

"You hiding in the john, Doc?"  

I sagged in relief. It was only Gardner .  

"Just a moment, please." I didn't bother telling him not to call me 'Doc.' One last glance to make sure my collar was high enough to conceal the bandage, and I went into the outer room. "Yes?"  

"Dr. Weir wants to see you in her office."  

I nodded and took a step forward. Corporal Gardner didn't move, and I came to a halt.  

"Aren't you even gonna ask how Gene is doing?" he snarled.  

"Of course. How… how is Sergeant Bates?"  

"There's been no change. As if you fucking care. Let's go." He grabbed my arm and started to drag me out of my room and through the corridor.  

"I don't appreciate being manhandled, Corporal." I yanked my arm free. "I'm also aware of where Dr. Weir's office is, and I don't need you shepherding me like some recalcitrant schoolboy."  

"I was told to make sure you didn't make a break for it."  

"Oh, please. Where do you expect me to run?"  

His grin was cruel. "Maybe to take a swan dive off one of the balconies into the ocean? It would sure save us the trouble of trying you."  

"Trying me for what?"  

"Cowardice in the face of the enemy."  

"What are you talking about? That was my bullet in the Wraith's head!"  

"Yeah, you can claim that when Gene isn't able to challenge your lies."  

"I'm not lying!"  

We came to a halt outside Dr. Weir's office. The door was open and I could hear Dr. Beckett.  

"I dinna know, I tell ya. Perhaps the device was only supposed to work for a short period of time. Perhaps, after 10,000 years, it was no longer functioning properly."  

"Yes, yes, and perhaps Bates over-exerted himself. You've covered all this before, Carson ," Dr. McKay snarked at him.  

The corporal tapped on the door. "Major Sheppard, I've brought Dr. Kavanagh."  

"Thanks, Gardner ."  

He gave me a shove, and I entered the room in a stumble. The quartet frowned at me.  

"What do you have to say for yourself, Dr. Kavanagh?" Dr. Weir sat behind her desk, her fingers steepled.  

"I? Say for myself?"  

"What happened to Sergeant Bates, Kavanagh?" Sheppard sounded impatient. "You're the only one who was there that we can ask."  

"I came upon Sergeant Bates and the Wraith. The sergeant's gun appeared to be jammed… "  

"Just a second. Originally you said it was empty."  

I glared at Sheppard with loathing. Cocky, pretty boy major. "For whatever reason, Sergeant Bates' gun was not in working order. I saved his life, and he… " I turned red and cut off the rest of my words. None of these people was my friend, and I wouldn't admit to anyone in this room that he'd repaid me by… by assaulting me.  

Each pair of eyes regarded me with disbelief.  

"If you don't believe me, do a necropsy on the Wraith. You'll see it was my bullet… "  

"We don't have time to waste on a dead Wraith. There is too much that needs to be done to restore the city to some semblance of normalcy."  

"But… " I didn't even sneer at her that the correct word should have been 'normality.'  

Carson Beckett looked at me with sorrow in his eyes.  

Major Sheppard looked at me as if I were trash.  

Dr. McKay looked at me as if I'd met every expectation he ever had of me disappointing him once again.  

Elizabeth Weir – the supercilious witch – didn't look at me at all.  

"I think it would be in the best interests of everyone here on Atlantis, and so for that reason alone, I'm granting your request to return to Earth."  

I blinked. When had I requested to return to Earth?  

"The repairs to the Daedalus have been completed, and you'll be transported back to Earth immediately."  

"He's getting off scot-free?" Corporal Gardner demanded. "But it's his fault… "  

"At ease, Corporal," Sheppard barked at him. "This decision has been made. You will escort Dr. Kavanagh to his quarters and remain there until he is packed. If. You. Please." There was steel in his final words. " Carson , can you tell us how long Lieutenant Ford will survive without the Wraith enzyme?"  


The Alpha site had been abandoned, and the Athosians had returned to Atlantis. Halling brought my notebook to me.  

"Thank you, my friend." I touched my forehead to his.  

"We will miss you, Miles Kavanagh. *I* will miss you." For a second I though he was going to touch his lips to mine, but I must have misread his body language. Athosians didn't kiss. "Farewell, my friend."  

I boarded the Daedalus. Hermiod, the Asgard advisor, sniffed and turned away. Colonel Caldwell regarded me for a moment, and I almost expected him to say, 'I've heard about you, Dr. Kavanagh. Cause any trouble on my ship, and I'll have no qualms in spacing you,' but he said nothing to me.  

I went to my assigned quarters. As I unpacked for the eighteen day journey, it suddenly occurred to me: I was returning to Earth.  

To Earth, and Simon Wallis, my first – my only – love.  

There would no longer be a million galaxies between us, and with Elizabeth Weir in Atlantis, there would no longer be… *anything*… between us. I would find him, and we would be together once more, as we should have been from the very start.  

Meanwhile… If Weir thought I would go quietly, my tail between my legs, she was sadly mistaken. I intended to present Stargate Command with a report on everything that had happened from the moment we'd stepped into Atlantis. I'd sent them one previously, when McKay had realized we'd be able to send Cheyenne Mountain not only what we had learned during our time in the Ancients' city in a 4 second burst of energy, but other things as well. Everyone had chosen to send sentimental messages to their families, but I'd known where my duty lay, and if we were to die, Stargate Command would know at whose feet to place the loss of life.  

This report was going to be even more in-depth.   

I put thoughts of my lover and our imminent reunion aside for the moment, powered up my notebook, and began to write up my report.



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