Title: But You Would Do That, Right?
Author/pseudonym: Tinnean
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney McKay/ John Sheppard
Rating: FRAO (fan rated adult only)
Email address: Tinneantoo@earthlink.net
Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to Brad Wright and
Robert Cooper. And SciFi.
Status: new/complete
Date:
Series/Sequel: a companion piece will follow
Summary: Something happened on M5S 224. How are the
Major and the Doctor going to explain it?
Warnings: m/m, some naughty words, spoilers for Home.
Notes: This first
appeared in the My Mongoose E-zine, The Many, Many More Chapters of The
Sentinel. Thanks to Patt for asking for it. The episode of Outer Limits that
McKay was watching is my choice, Architects of Fear. Thanks to Tim who
introduced me to this show, and as always, to Gail, the world's best beta. I
thank her very much.
But You Would Do That, Right?
Part 1/1
I had picked up energy readings from the planet that was designated M5S
224. The readings indicated cities, roads, a thriving, industrial populace. In
other words, civilization.
"John…" I forced my eyes up, away from his butt. Major John
Sheppard, the head military honcho.
I could feel myself getting lost in a fantasy of testing the firmness of
that bubble butt with my teeth, and I made myself snap out of it. That was just
too unprofessional, too unmilitary, too un-everything. He turned to face me, his
eyebrow elevated, and I cleared my throat and started again.
"Major Sheppard, this looks promising."
"Does it?" He knew as well as I did that we needed as many
allies as we could get to battle against the Wraith, a highly intelligent
species that fed off the life energy of humans. The depletion of that energy led
to the food source's death.
And yes, they saw us as food, herds to be harvested, nothing more. It
was almost enough to make me turn vegetarian.
"All right. We'll investigate."
And we did. Atlantis' expert in Deep Theory Wormhole Physics – that
would be me — Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford, his second-in-command, who
tended to follow him like a puppy – why couldn't he turn his attention to the
team's doctor, a Scot who obviously had an eye for the dark-skinned young man?
And Teyla Emmagan, the leader of the Athosians, whose surviving people Major
Sheppard had rescued from the Wraith.
All we found was a lot of nothing.
M5S 224 was covered in fog that wasn't fog. How could it be when there
was no water vapor in its atmosphere? The energy readings tended to fluctuate,
but when Lieutenant Ford dialed the Stargate on that planet, they went off the
charts.
I argued my point to Dr. Weir, the civilian commander of Atlantis. I was
certain if I could harness that energy I could get us back to Earth.
Or at least send a radio message to let them know we had survived.
"Eight hundred four years."
"What?"
"If you're stranded there, that's how long it will take a Puddle
Jumper to get you," Major Sheppard snarked. He was almost as good at that
as I was. Was that what attracted me to him?
I liked to think they'd come for me, the people I worked with on
Atlantis. After all, I was the only astrophysicist they had, and with an IQ like
mine, they *needed* me. If I were lost, and even if it took eight hundred
odd years for the Puddle Jumper to come get me…
"But you would do that?" For me? "Right?"
"Of course." Major Sheppard turned back to Dr. Weir, but not
before I'd seen his smirk.
I sighed. He was so straight he could have had a...
I lost myself once again in a fantasy, this time not of a flag pole up
his ass, but my cock. //No, that just isn't going to happen, McKay, so get your
mind back where it belongs.//
Which was what was going to happen on that mist-shrouded planet.
Dr. Weir gave the go-ahead, and I removed the control crystal of
Atlantis' Dial Home Device, which activated our Stargate. My intention was to
hook it up to the other Stargate's DHD. I knew I could do this – genius here,
people – and with no trouble at all, even if I had to disassemble the other
DHD.
There would be no errors; Rodney McKay did not screw up.
So the other four accompanied me to the gate on M5S 224. Dr. Weir,
Lieutenant Ford, Teyla, and… Major Sheppard.
I got our crystal into that DHD, and I opened a wormhole to Earth.
Dr. Weir's ID code was verified, and we were welcomed home. It was great
to be back, standing under our Sun, breathing Earth oxygen.
It was great all right, right up to the point where we learned that once
they'd heard her report, the idiots who ran the Pentagon declared themselves
willing to cut their losses and abandon the Pegasus galaxy to the Wraith.
"I wouldn't give my worst enemy up to the Wraith," I muttered.
Dr. Weir argued long and earnestly, and finally managed to get General
Hammond to agree to consider the options.
"The Asgards," our closest offworld allies, "are working
on Prometheus. Once they've installed the engines that will make the trip to the
Pegasus galaxy possible, I'll get in touch with you. In the meanwhile, you
should all take the time to touch base with your loved ones. Go on, have
fun." His eyes slid from Major Sheppard to Teyla. "Go shopping and get
her some suitable clothes. Have fun," he repeated
I ground my teeth together. That didn't strike me as very General
Hammond, but no one else seemed to notice, and I was damned if I'd say anything
and come across as jealous.
Which I wasn't.
Dr. Weir drove home to see her husband and her dog. Lieutenant Ford was
planning on doing something or other, and Major Sheppard and Teyla were …
going shopping.
I went home to my empty
apartment. I must have gotten used to having all the people on Atlantis around;
it had never before struck me as lonely.
There were no messages on my machine, but obviously there had been a
power outage, or maybe the machine was defective. I thought briefly about my
cat, then sat on the couch and swung my legs up. If I remembered correctly…
ah, yes, I dug the bag of Doritos from under the pillow, and picked up the
remote.
Talk about luck! The Outer Limits was just coming on. "There
is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture.
We are controlling the transmissions."
It was the episode about a bunch of scientists trying to trick the
people of Earth into believing the planet was being attacked by aliens. The
scientists hoped they'd put aside their differences and work together for the
better good of Earth.
I settled down to watch it.
Before the first commercial could even start, my doorbell rang. It was
the brunette from 302. The last time I had seen her was when I'd brought Cat for
her to keep until I returned from my latest mission.
She leaned against the doorframe, offering me a view of her cleavage
that normally would have had me salivating like Pavlov's dog. She gave a vapid
smile, fluffed her hair, and batted her lashes at me.
"I missed you, Roddy-woddy," she said in a little-girl voice
as she walked her fingers up my chest.
Why wasn't I salivating? I thought about John Sheppard and sighed. I
knew why.
She looked puzzled, then straightened. "You must have a lot of
things to catch up on. Why don't I bring your cat back tomorrow?" She went
up the stairs outside the building, the usual seductive sway to her hips
missing.
"Uh… sure." Talk about odd. I shrugged and shut the door,
and went back to watch the show.
The doorbell rang a second time. "Look," I said as I started
to open the door, a little pissed that I was missing one of my favorite
episodes, "tomorrow is soon enough to…" My tongue got tangled in the
rest of my words.
John Sheppard was standing there, a slight grin on his face. "Hey,
Rod man."
I would have bitten his head off for calling me such an asinine name,
but the way he was dressed caused spit to pool in my mouth and air to clog in my
throat.
He was wearing a white tee that had been cut short, exposing his
six-pack abs and the line of hair that trailed down beneath the waistband of his
shorts. The shorts had once been button-fly jeans. His biceps were lovingly
embraced by what was left of the sleeves. On his feet were combat boots.
I bit back a groan. He was the epitome of my best wet dreams.
"I thought you were shopping with Teyla."
"She's a big girl. She can shop by herself."
"But she's never…"
"I thought you might be lonely," John said, seduction heavy in
his voice. "I am." His eyes slid down my
torso to the front of my uniform trousers, which were suddenly tented, and his
grin broadened in approval. "Nice." He ran the backs of his
fingers over my chest, and my nipples tightened. "Aren't you going to ask
me in?"
All right, I was stupid. I didn't question why all of a sudden he was
hot for me. I pulled him into my
apartment, slammed the door shut behind him, and shoved him against the wall,
kissing him until he was breathless, and then I dragged him into the bedroom.
His laugh was husky. He tore off his tee and shorts, and he was naked
under them. His cock was jutting away from his groin, dusky with arousal. I
didn't give him a chance to take off his boots; I pushed him down onto my bed,
onto the blankets that were still rumpled from the last time I had slept on
them.
"Come on, smart guy. Come and get me." He spread his legs and
stroked his cock, giving me a view of his balls that had me salivating as the
brunette's tits hadn't.
I stripped off my clothes, losing buttons in my haste, but who cared?
"Nice shirt." He laughed at the tee shirt I was wearing. It
said, I'm with genius, and had an arrow pointing up.
His laugh turned to a groan as I swallowed that gorgeous cock of his,
ran my fingernails through the hair on his balls, slicked him up, fucked him…
I climaxed, but I was still hard, and I flipped him onto his belly and
took him doggy-style. I came again, switched to my back, and sat him down on my
cock.
I fucked him every way I could think of – a genius knows a lot of ways
– and some that surprised us both, until finally, exhausted, we fell asleep,
my cock still deep inside his tight ass.
The ringing of the doorbell a third time woke me. I kissed the spot on
John's neck where I'd left a purple love bite. "I'll shoo whoever this is
away, and we can play some more, Johnny. Although, maybe I'd better feed you
first."
"Sure, smart guy. Whatever you say." His hazel eyes were sated
and drowsy. I was about to tell him that I didn't like being called that when he
licked his lips. "I love you, Rodney."
I wanted to get back in bed with him, but the doorbell kept ringing.
"Hold that thought." I dragged a sheet around me toga-style
and went to see who it was leaning on my doorbell.
It turned out to be Dr. Weir.
"Dr. McKay!" Her eyes widened as she took in my attire.
"Uh…" She shook her head as if to clear it. "Listen! There's
been an accident on the Prometheus. We can no longer depend on her to get us
back to Atlantis."
"Damn. How are we going to get back?"
"I was hoping you'd come up with something."
I had a sudden thought. "Y'know, Dr. Weir, I may have an idea.
Listen, give me a minute to get dressed, and I'll… uh… I'll be right with
you."
I rushed back into the bedroom, intent on telling John what had
happened, and I skidded to an abrupt halt.
He wasn't there. His clothes were gone, and the only sign that he'd been
on that bed with me were the pillows that had landed on the floor and the sheet
that was half-off the mattress.
Much as I wanted to, I didn't have time to worry about where
he could have gotten to. I dressed, and Dr. Weir drove to the lab. She took the
turns on two wheels, the tires screeching, and my knuckles turned white from my
grip on the front seat. I was so relieved that the drive didn't take too long
that I didn't realize: the drive *didn't* take too long.
General Hammond didn't look happy to see Dr. Weir and me coming toward
him. "This really isn't necessary, Dr. McKay. I'm sorry you were called
away from your… er… from however you chose to spend your time."
"Never mind about that." I waved aside his remark. I'd have
time to spend with John when we got back to Atlantis, and I intended to see we
did get back to Atlantis. "We won't need Prometheus to get us back to
Atlantis."
"Oh?" If I hadn't known General Hammond better, I'd have sworn
he sounded uneasy.
"Yes. All I need to do is connect to the gate on M5S 224, and the
energy generated by its atmosphere will do the rest."
"Of course." General Hammond's smile seemed forced, but I
hadn't seen him in a very long time. I was sure I was mistaken. "I'll have
all the techs you need sent to the lab with all the information you need."
"Thank you, General." I glanced at Dr. Weir. She shrugged and
hurried after him.
It was only later, when Lieutenant Ford turned up, and Teyla as well,
when we were all gathered in the 'lab' where I'd been tearing my hair in
frustration, trying to decipher the nonsense the 'techs' had given me, and ready
to shake Dr. Weir, who was out-of-character complacent, and when John... I felt
a jolt of awareness.
It wasn't John who sauntered in, dressed in a jogging suit and with that
all-too-familiar smirk. It was Major Sheppard.
I should have figured it out sooner; I was the genius after all.
The John who had lain under me, moaning and clawing at my back, was not
the Major Sheppard who stood here in the 'lab', smug because he'd been the first
to realize things weren't as they seemed.
The beings who lived on M5S 224 didn't have a corporeal body. They were
the fog, the mist … the source of energy. Each time that Stargate was used, it
resulted in the loss of life, and if we used it to gate home to Earth, to
another galaxy, so many millions would perish that the survival of their species
would be threatened.
They had the ability to manipulate our minds, and to protect themselves,
they did. All we had to do was think of it – home, a bag of Doritos that was
still fresh enough to eat, or in Major Sheppard's case as I later learned, the
bachelor pad he'd always dreamed of – and it would be there for us.
"Choose your own reality, and you will spend the rest of your lives
living it."
"But we're not here on Earth. We're lying on the surface of your
planet, unconscious. If we don't have food and water, we'll die."
"Then I suggest you choose wisely."
"Who does he think he is?" Lieutenant Ford snapped. "The
knight from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade?"
Trust Dr. Weir to talk us out of the situation that could have resulted
in our deaths.
"I promise you," she told the being who wore General Hammond
as a façade, "we will *never* return to M5S 224. You can see what's
in our minds," she pressed. "You *know* we're telling the
truth."
When he — it — whatever the fuck the being was – agreed to let us
go, and we regained consciousness on the surface, I was positive we were going
to be faked out.
"He — it — " I ground my teeth. "*General Hammond*
can manipulate our minds to make us think we've wakened and returned to
Atlantis. In reality we could still be lying unconscious on M5S 224's surface,
dying of hunger and thirst."
"No. He saw we were telling the truth," Dr. Weir insisted, but
I didn't relax until I realized I was hungry. I'd eaten those Doritos out of
habit: the opened bag was there on my couch, so I noshed.
"Damn," I muttered under my breath. "Why didn't I think
of an armful of Big Macs when I had the chance?" It had been ages since I'd
had one. I would have preferred the two all-beef patties, special sauce,
lettuce, cheese, pickles, and onions on a sesame seed bun to the brunette from
302 who first appeared at my door, and who hadn't really missed me. And even
more, I'd have preferred sharing them with…
I had to force myself to stop thinking of the hot, sweaty, passionate
interlude I'd spent with Major Sheppard's oh-so-willing Doppelganger.
As the song said, it was just my imagination. Just all our imaginations.
We left M5S 224 and everything on it behind, and returned to Atlantis,
and I had to come to grips with the fact that the man who said he loved me was
not the man who returned to Atlantis with us.
We'd each been seeing what we expected to see, what we wanted to see.
I had wanted to see John wanting me.
I stood by a window and gazed pensively out at the ocean that surrounded
the city. If Dr. Weir's plea hadn't been successful, would I have chosen a
reality with John?
"Problem, Doctor?"
When had Major Sheppard managed to creep up on me like that?
"No." I gave him a tight grin. "Everything is
peachy-keen."
"Good." He fingered his collar, and for a minute I thought he
was going to say something else. I thought wrong.
He walked off, a jaunty swing to his stride.
My eyes, traitors that they were, wanted to visually caress that butt,
but I hung tough with them.
Work had often been my solution to the loneliness in my life.
I turned away and went to my lab.
~End~
