My first Atlantis Fic!

Feb 03, 2007 18:54

Title: Is That Stuff Sold by the Gallon?
Author: amokeh
Rating: G
Pairings: Sheppard/Beckett, established relationship
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don’t own them. Wish I did, though. Well, at least Carson - I think I could get by with just renting John. VBEG
Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at anything larger than a double drabble within the Stargate universe, so please be gentle with me. :D Tecnu (C) is an actual product that saved my life when I had poison ivy 5 years ago. I always have a bottle of it handy for when I’ve been out tromping through the woods. And, although it should be sold by the gallon, it is not. :( Written for the "Dialogue" Challenge at The Beckett-Sheppard List
Summary: Sheppard is once again in need of medical attention after suffering from "exposure" off-world. Heh.

"Unscheduled offworld activation!”

Elizabeth shot out of her office at the gate tech’s loud announcement, her heart already racing. “Colonel Sheppard’s team?” She queried, anticipating the worst.

Chuck nodded. “Dr. McKay’s IDC, ma’am.” At the same time, Rodney’s voice could be heard over the radio, requesting that the shield be lowered for their return.

Tapping her earpiece, Elizabeth asked, worriedly, “Rodney? Is everything all right? Do you need medical assistance?”

It was John who responded. “Uh, no, we don’t, Elizabeth.” In the background, she could hear Rodney arguing, “Oh, don’t be an idiot. I mean, look at...ow!”

Elizabeth shared a look with Chuck, and rolled her eyes in pseudo-exasperation. “All right, you two. Don’t make me give you a time-out.” Chuck grinned and keyed off the shield. “The shield’s down; you can come home.” She turned towards the active wormhole, expectantly.

“Thank you,” Sheppard replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. A few seconds later, the watery event horizon shimmered and Teyla serenely walked through first, followed by Rodney, who was rubbing the back of his head and muttering to himself. Then came Ronon, who was grinning which, okay, was a bit unusual, but all of them looked healthy enough. She was just about to ask where the Colonel was when he stepped through the horizon, wearing a blanket.

Only a blanket.

Oh. My.

He had it pulled tightly around him, hunkering down into it, as if to conceal as much of his body as possible. He had managed to cover himself all the way from his feet to halfway up his face; she could just make out the tips of his fingers holding the blanket in place and his face from his cheekbones up, all of which was very red. She looked at the rest of the team for some explanation and did a double take. Ronon was carrying John’s clothes. When he saw where she was looking, his grin got even bigger.

Elizabeth walked quickly down the steps, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘This was supposed to be an ordinary, peaceful trade mission.....”

Rodney stopped her, mid-sentence. “Oh, it was peaceful. Nobody shot at us or tried to sell us to the Genii or anything like that." Despite his reassurances, he looked decidedly uncomfortable about something. She waited for him to continue, but instead of rambling on like normal, he was studiously looking everywhere but at her. She mentally winced. If Rodney wasn't talking....

Elizabeth turned to John, hoping for some explanation. “Then what happened? I mean, how....” she trailed off, waving her hand at him to indicate his current state of undress.

“Uh, do we really have to discuss this here?” John’s voice was slightly muffled behind the thick cloth and he was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I’d really like to go to the infirmary now, if that’s all right.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you said you didn’t need medical assistance?”

What little of John’s face she could see looked very embarrassed. “I just didn’t want to do this here, in the control room.”

“All right.” Elizabeth decided not to give him a hard time about it. He really did look very uncomfortable; she could see that he was twitching under the blanket. “But I want a full report as soon as Carson’s done with you.”

John sighed, then nodded. “Right. Uh, I’ll see you guys later.” He nodded to the rest of his team as he headed out of the room. “Oh, and Ronon?

“Yeah, Sheppard?”

“Burn those. Just in case.”

After he was out of sight, Elizabeth turned to the others and asked, “Do I even want to know?”

****************************************************************

It had been a pretty easy day in the infirmary. The only patients Carson Beckett had seen were a young marine with a mild case of achilles tendonitis and a chemist with a bad head cold. He was valiantly trying to catch up on his reports when he heard the distinctive sound of one of his nurses, Jan, clearing her throat from the open doorway.

Pulling his attention away from the paperwork in front of him he asked, “What do you need, love?” Instead of answering, Jan just shook her head, grinned, and waggled her finger at him, in the “come here” gesture. “What is this, now?” he asked, getting up to follow her as she led him to the treatment area. Sitting on one of the beds was his lover, wrapped tightly in a blanket. He allowed his gaze to travel down the material-covered body and back up again. John’s ears and cheeks were bright red, but Carson could also see redness below the blush that nothing to do with embarrassment. John met his eyes and, somehow, managed to convey chagrin and resignation with a slight duck of his head and shrug, barely visible beneath the wrap.

Carson sighed heavily. “Och, right then. Thanks, Jan - I’ll take it from here.” As she left, she pulled the privacy curtains around them, and Carson stepped up to the table, leaning his hip against it as he crossed his arms over his chest. “So.....how did it go?” he asked, his voice full of gentle humor.

John glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. “It was actually going really well,” he started, loosening the blanket slightly so it lowered enough that he could speak unhindered. The redness that Carson had only seen a hint of a few seconds earlier was now quite visible in splotches across John’s lower face, chin and neck. “They liked us. We liked them. They invited us to a banquet. We accepted.”

“Uh huh,” Carson murmured, pulling away from the bed and moving in front of his patient. He reached for the blanket, and John let him tug it away, exposing his upper chest. “And then what happened?” Carson asked distractedly, as he focused his attention on what appeared to be a very angry rash, erupting in slightly raised bunches across his lover’s torso and neck in no discernible pattern.

John absently began to scratch at one of the patches. “Well, apparently, they’ve got this tradition.” He paused and Carson looked up at his face. John was grimacing, but whether it was from discomfort or chagrin, he couldn’t tell.

“And what tradition would that be?” Carson let the blanket fall back into place to cover the colonel’s body, resting his hands on his hips.

“Uh, it’s a show of good will, and trust,” John started, having trouble meeting Beckett’s eyes. He started to itch at his legs. “You see, the newcomers - that would be us in this particular instance - walk through the village, uh, to show that they have nothing to hide and the villagers toss various flowers at them, welcoming them and blessing them.” John offered a weak, pained smile. “I mean, just a simple ritual. No harm, right?” He looked at Carson, hopefully, “Elizabeth’s always telling us to make nice with the natives, so....” His voice trailed off as Carson looked back at him, his face totally blank.

“Hmmm,” Carson offered, non-committal, and then lifted up the blanket again, staring at the pattern of eruptions on John’s chest, the light bulb clicking ‘on.’ “So,” he started, jovially, pushing the blanket totally out of the way to see the full extent of the damage. “I assume you agreed to this before they told you about the ‘naked’ part.”

John looked at him directly, his smile this time more genuine, albeit embarrassed. “That would be a ‘yes.’” He resumed his light itching as Carson moved past him, gathering some supplies out of a nearby cabinet. “We figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since everybody was gonna be naked, and good will is...”

“Wait a bloody second!” Carson interrupted, turning back to him. “Everyone?” He looked at John incredulously. “Not only you, but the rest of the team and the villagers, too?” John nodded, his big grin giving way to a wince as he inadvertently scratched too hard at a spot. Carson stared at him and then let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Only you, John.” Carson chuckled, “Only you could go through the stargate and find the only nudist camp in the Pegasus galaxy.” They shared an amused look, and then Carson went full-on into Doctor mode. “All right, then,” he pushed past the privacy curtain, raising his voice slightly as he continued, moving away, “Obviously you’re having an allergic reaction to the oils from the flowers, but I’d like to get a skin scraping to make sure that’s all it is.”

John could hear him rummaging through supplies across the room. “You’re gonna scrape my skin?” He made an ‘ew’ face. “Is that really necessary?” He subconsciously pulled the blanket back around him for protection.

“Aye, it is,” Carson replied, sounding a bit closer. “Unfortunately, we’ve found out the hard way too many times not to take things for granted here.” Although John didn’t like it, he couldn’t argue against that particular logic. He could hear some shuffling noises as if Carson was pushing things around a drawer or shelf. “Och, there you are, ya wee bugger,” he muttered, under his breath. “While we’re waiting for the test results to come back, we’ll treat this like we would a case of poison ivy.” He re-entered the curtained-off area, arms full of supplies. He dropped everything on the table next to John: towels; a sealed package with what looked like a mini-plastic spatula and a slide; gauze; creams; and a bottle of....John tilted his head to read the packaging...Tecnu. Weird name, he thought to himself as Beckett prepared a syringe. John pulled his attention away from the funky-named bottle and eyed the needle warily. Carson explained, “Think of it as liquid Benadryl (TM), love. It’ll set you right faster than the pill form.” He reached for an antibacterial wipe and looked pointedly at John’s arm, buried beneath the blanket.

John sighed, leaving go of the material and offering his arm to the good doctor. “Okay. Great. Whatever. Just - make this crap go away, please?” he whined, itching at his stomach with his other hand.

“I’ll do my best, love.” Carson gave him the shot quickly, knowing his lover’s distaste for needles. The skin scraping went even faster, John refusing to look the entire time. “I’m done,” Carson informed him once the slide was in its protective cover. “You can look now, ya big baby.” He affectionately ruffled his hair as John looked at him a little sleepily. Obviously the antihistamine was kicking in. “All right, now. While you take a little nap, I’ll wash you down with this,” he grabbed the bottle of Tecnu as John started to tilt to the side. “Och, no, love - hold on just a wee bit. Let me put some towels down first.” John nodded and concentrated on sitting upright while Beckett hurriedly spread towels across the bed. “Okay, you can lie down now.” John immediately complied, and let his legs fall bonelessly to the side as Carson arranged the towels under him. As John lay watching him, Carson grabbed the bottle again, muttering to himself, “A whole village of people, naked, pelting a naked parade of visitors with flowers...” He snorted and looked amusedly at John, who gave him a drunken grin in response. “Ya know, back home, that would have made the ten o’clock news.” He moved next to John and popped open the bottle. “But here, it’s probably not even the strangest thing that’ll happen this week.”

“Heh, prob’ly not ev’n t’day. Wha’s tha stuff, anyway?” Sheppard slurred, getting sleepier by the moment.

Carson had already squirted it across John's rash-covered chest, and was gently rubbing it in using circular motions. “It’s the best stuff to break down plant oils, love. This way we can be sure none of the nasty stuff you were exposed to lingers long enough to give you any more problems.” He glanced at John’s face to see him watching with a half-lidded gaze. John looked so young and unguarded, that he couldn’t resist leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Although sleepy, John was still awake enough to respond, drawing out the kiss to something that left both of them wanting more. Carson reluctantly drew back. “That’s enough of that, love,” he whispered. “You’ll get me in a state, and you’re in no shape to do anythin’ about it.” They shared a smile: John’s sleepy and Carson’s deeply dimpled.

“I’m sorry, Cars’n,” Sheppard murmured, his eyes closing. “’I’ll make it up t’you, lat’r...” he dozed off completely before he could finish the thought.

Carson smiled at him, fondly, then kissed him lightly again, barely brushing their lips together. “Aye, love, I’ve no doubt of that.”

fin

beckett/sheppard, sga, fic

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