SGA: Riders and Raiders
Title: Riders and Raiders
Genre: SGA, AU, Team
Rating: PG-13 for language
Synopsis: The team decides to get proactive about the raiders, but will Tey get caught in the middle?
Author’s Notes: For the team_sga AU Fest. Based in the Atlantis Riders universe which is a fusion with the old “Young Riders” series.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them and making no money from this.
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“This is such a bad idea,” Rodney moaned, pacing the length of the barn where they had just stabled their horses.
“We don’t have that many other options,” John tried to reason. He pulled off his hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair, knowing it was a mess, but not really caring. The weather was that hot humidity that came just before a summer rainstorm, and his skin felt like it was trying to crawl off somewhere to hide. This was the second day in a row like this, and he would’ve preferred the sky just rip open instead of fiddling around with them.
Rodney spun around to face him. “You want options? I’ll give you options!” he nearly screamed, the fact that they were technically still in public the only thing keeping him remotely civil. “What about callin’ the authorities, hmm? You know, the people paid to deal with this? Or, what about simply hitting the tavern ourselves to skunk around for information? Or, you know, anything that doesn’t send Tey into what can reasonably be called enemy territory alone to fend for herself?”
“Tey likes to fend for herself,” John pointed out, leaning against the barn to try to take advantage of its lengthening shadow in the late afternoon sun. And, because he could not resist, he added, “And she’s better at it than you.”
“That’s not the point!” Rodney exclaimed, resuming his pacing again.
“Then what is the point?” Ronon asked. He had claimed the largest spot of covering the moment their little debate broke out, willing to sit back and wait it out as always. He must have been a bit on edge himself if he was contributing to the fray this early on in the argument.
“The point is that you let an unarmed woman stake out a seedy little bar that is a known hang out for the raiders all on her own!” he glared. “She could be helpless at their mercy right now, and we wouldn’t know!”
“Dare you to say that to her face,” Ronon baited.
“Which part? The ‘helpless’ or the ‘woman’?” Sheppard smirked.
“Either,” he grinned back. “’Sides, she ain’t exactly unarmed,” he told Rodney, bringing him back around to the point of the whole debate.
“How many knives?” John asked knowingly.
Ronon pulled one out of his own sleeve to show how easily hidden they could be. “She’s got three of mine and at least another two of her own,” he replied, flipping the blade and returning it to its hiding place.
“Against how many guns and poisons and what else?” Rodney demanded.
Sheppard stood up a bit straighter at that. “Poisons? Where’d you hear that?” Last he heard the raiders were the standard guns and explosives types, with just a lot more of each making them that much more problematic.
Rodney looked indignant which, Sheppard reluctantly admitted, he probably had the right to be. He’d been against this plan from the start, which is why they had Tey sneak off near night while he was distracted with some little gadget he was playing around with. He’d been kinda pissed since. “Carson down at the barber told me. Said Mister Kavanaugh swore he’d been drugged when they got the plans away from him,” he explained tersely.
Sheppard relaxed a bit. “Yeah, but that was Kavanaugh,” he waived it off. “Boy was looking to not have his ass handed to him for losing everything in the first place.”
“I thought that as well, but apparently he was still off enough for Carson to notice something,” Rodney shrugged. “Said there was an odd stain on his shirt that he tried to figure out. Also said Mister Kavanaugh still had his water glass from the night before and there was some blue dregs at the bottom that he’d never come across before.”
“You trust his opinion?” Ronon asked.
McKay readily nodded. “He’s the closest thing we’ve got to medical doctor out here. Went to school out East, but wanted to study the local cures too. His medicine might be witchdoctory, but his research methods are sound.”
Both Ronon and John nodded. If he was good enough for McKay, they’d take his word on him. McKay did his own studies out East, joining the Riders in an attempt to raise funds for some more. He was all knowledge and book smarts and talk, but he was usually right when it came to these things.
The three men looked wistfully in the direction of the tavern. They had promised Tey they’d be there tonight. Sun had not yet set, but Sheppard reasoned they could pretend they just came in from a long ride and were looking for something cool to drink. It wouldn’t even be that far from the truth. Two and a half days without their fourth was two and a half too long. Mix in the raiders and their ilk, and all three were needing to make sure she was safe and sound by now.
Ronon cocked his head to the side as a thought came to him, the thick cords of his hair falling forward and into his face. “Did you say it was Kavanaugh that lost everything and got us into this mess in the first place?”
“You can beat ‘em up later,” Sheppard promised.
“If Tey gets a single scratch on her for this, I’ll kill ‘em myself,” Rodney muttered.
Ronon slapped him on the shoulder, both in affection and unity, and nodded. “I’ll help you hide the body,” he promised.
“And Tey will kick both your asses for outin’ her as a girl,” John mused, shaking his head. He purposely said nothing about stopping them though.
“What was Kavanaugh doing with the plans in the first place?” Ronon asked, focusing his gaze away from the tavern and back on his friends. He busied himself with grabbing a length of leather from his pocket and tying his hair back from his face and off his neck, a rather practical thing given the lingering heat of the day.
“Son of someone important, yada, yada,” Rodney said with a dismissive wave. “Swore the plans tied directly to some project he’s been working on, so they let him have a copy. Insert incompetence on his part and fair planning on the raiders part, and there you go.” He paused to take off his hat and wipe his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “Miss Elizabeth is in a tizzy because it’s the third time this month they’ve stolen mechanical plans instead of their usual baubles, hinting at them getting ready for something big.”
Sheppard nodded, all of this was information he had already known. “On the plus side, while they’ve been after paper instead of gold, they haven’t killed or seriously injured anyone in over a month.”
McKay snorted and offered a derisive, “Yet.”
Sheppard wasn’t ashamed to admit that he joined both McKay and Ronon at looking towards the tavern once more as thoughts of Tey and a luck streak gone on far too long to last much longer played through his head. He noted the sky around the building was just turning to hints of orange and gold and figured it was close enough to time. He glanced back at the others and raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Anyone fancy a drink?”
Ronon pushed himself up off the edge of the barn and flipped his hat back on. “Thought you’d never ask,” he grinned.
The walk to the tavern was short, and filled with the forced casualness that made John’s teeth hurt. Smiling politely to everyone they passed, including the ones that glared in their general direction. They got a few nods and even a hint of a grin in return, but he was getting the distinct feeling that this town did not like strangers. Given that the raiders apparently had taken up house here off an on, he could kind of understand the sentiment.
He stepped into the tavern and took a deep breath. Whatever he had been expecting, this was not it. The outside was simple wood and clapboard like most of the town. The inside was near decadent. Oh, there was still the not-quite-bright-enough lights casting parts of the room in shadows, but any and all woods were the fancy polished kind, and both chairs and walls were draped in fabric that looked like it cost more per yard than his monthly pay allotment. The scent of sweat and liquor and unwashed bodies was familiar though, so he took some comfort in that. He did not, however, take any comfort in the fact Tey, much like the three of them, would have stood out like a sore thumb, even with the outfit they had liberated for her.
A redhead in an off the shoulder number just this side of indecent sauntered up to them. Her dress was decorated with what looked to be a combination of lace and feathers and plunged deep enough to show that she had fine pale skin, with the hemline high enough in parts to show off her buttoned leather boots and fancy stockings. “What can I do you for?” she drawled, looking them up and down.
“We’d be much obliged for something cool to drink and a place to wait for a friend,” Sheppard replied, giving her his most dazzling smile.
Her eyes twinkled as she gestured towards an empty table near a well-loved piano in the corner. “You just settle yourselves in and I’ll see what I can do,” she winked, ambling over towards the bar.
As he pulled out his chair, Rodney hissed, “Tey’s life could be in danger, and you stop to flirt?”
“Nothing wrong with being friendly,” he said evenly, still taking in their surroundings. There were a few darker corners where the light didn’t hit, but no one seemed gathered there yet. For the most part, things seemed normal, if not a slightly upscale version of normal. Still didn’t stop the feeling at the back of his skull that there was something more than drinking going on in this little piece of elegance.
“Somethin’s up,” Ronon said succinctly, slouching down in his seat.
He nodded in agreement as Rodney looked around nervously. “Any idea what?” he asked.
“Not yet,” the larger man shrugged. “Let you know when I find out.”
It was fair enough, so he went with it. Besides, the redhead was coming back with three mugs of some amber colored liquid. He dropped a few coins on the table and she scooped them up before leaning in close, her unmentionables near pressed against him. Dipping her head down, little strands of feathers and curls brushing his cheek, she whispered in his ear, “Don’t trust anything not given to you by me or my girls.” He blinked, not expecting that. He also didn’t expect her to run a finger down the buttons of his shirt and add, “Okay, John?”
He nodded dumbly as she disappeared, taking a sniff and then a sip of what turned out to be rather decent ale to steady himself. There appeared to be nothing wrong with it, and he glanced around the tavern to find her at the bar, talking to a shorter man with carefully combed hair and a bowtie, but keeping her eyes on him as she did so. He nodded, and noticed her subtle reply.
“What was that about?” Rodney demanded, making a put upon face.
“Friend of Tey’s?” Ronon guessed.
John settled back in his chair, fingers tracing the edge of his mug. “Might be,” he agreed. “Says not to trust anyone ‘cept her girls.”
“And why should we trust her?” Rodney asked.
“’Cause she gave us the good stuff and put us where we can see the whole room,” Ronon supplied. He sniffed his own glass before taking a healthy swig of it.
Anything else McKay was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of what John had to assume were “the girls”. Three women, dressed like the first, came sweeping down the staircase near the bar in a cloud of ruffles, sparkles, and perfume, their lilting laughter nearly drowned out by the clapping and whistling they received for their efforts. He had no idea if they were there to serve drinks or provide entertainment, but they were clearly welcomed by all.
The first woman joined them as they began to circulate around the room, flirting with each table before rounding up more drinks and more cash for the till. Two worked their way towards them, one stopping at a nearby table with a glance over her shoulder while the other finally reached theirs with a rather purposeful stride.
Finally able to see her clearly, John was surprised his jaw didn’t physically hit the table from the revelation he was knocked upside the head with. Before him, draped in lace and ruffles and some sort of silken fabric was Tey.
Swallowing heavily, he mentally corrected himself. There was no trace of their tomboy teammate in the woman before him. Teyla was all curves and femininity and woman, like he had never seen her before. He knew she was beautiful, but he always thought it was the way she handled herself, her confidence as she rode beside them or tackled each and every one of them to the ground during their impromptu wrestling matches. Looking at her now though, he never would have guessed she was the same “boy” in trousers who forced him to muck out the stalls just last week.
A quick peek at the others showed they were having a similar reaction. Ronon had a secretive smile gracing his face, while Rodney was turning an interesting shade of pink. The would-be scholar took a quick gulp of his ale to try to cover his reaction, but nearly choked on it instead, most likely not expecting its strength. Ronon helpfully slapped him on the back with a muffled chuckle.
Teyla, for her part, looked like she was trying not to laugh at their antics. She stood serenely, hand resting on one silken hip, and batted her eyes at them. “Never seen a girl in a dress before?” she teased.
“You look...” John started.
“Like a woman!” Rodney blurted, earning him a slap upside the head by his nearest teammate.
“Fantastic,” Ronon corrected for him.
“Where in the world did you find that get up?” Rodney asked, flabbergasted. “Unless you made some major alterations to Miss Elizabeth’s dress, there’s no way you stole that from her closet.”
John thought back to the prim and proper stylings of their housemother and was forced to agree. Miss Elizabeth wore simple, functional dresses that were nice, yet conservative, much like herself. Teyla was originally going to sneak one of hers for this little ploy, but apparently the plan had changed.
“You do not like it?” she asked innocently, playing with a strand of her perfectly coifed hair. It was a far cry from most days where they had to remind her to use a comb or brush.
John answered before Rodney could stick his foot in his mouth even more. “We like it,” he assured her. “It’s just... unexpected, that’s all. What happened?”
“Miss Laura and her assistants helped me out,” she explained. “Apparently Miss Elizabeth’s dress was not quite up to their standards.”
“Miss Laura’s the redhead?” Ronon guessed.
Teyla nodded. “And quite full of much valuable information,” she added. Her head snapped up and her gaze focused on the door. “I would love to elaborate, but now is not the time,” she non-explained. She circled the table, offering friendly touches across their shoulders, her eyes darting between the door and the bar. “Be ready, and remember the girls are on our side,” she directed before gliding over to the next table.
“What the hell was that?” Rodney exclaimed quietly, throwing his hands up into the air.
“I think we’re about to find out,” John mused, pushing his drink towards him. He watched as the weasely looking man who had just entered darted back out the door, only to return a moment later with several others. The new arrivals were much larger, with stringy blonde hair and rather pale skin given the bright sun from earlier that day. Definitely not from around these parts, at least not originally. The fact they were dressed near head to toe in what looked to be black leather really added to that opinion. Shiny silver pistols hung at their sides, and they walked with the confidence of those rarely challenged.
“Raiders?” Rodney gulped. It was one thing to know they had contacts hereabouts, but an entirely other for them to stride right on in.
“Would be my guess,” Ronon agreed. His hand drifted below the table, and John heard the subtle click as he reached for his gun.
A long, slender hand wrapped around the larger man’s upper arm stilled the movement. One of the ladies that had arrived with Teyla leaned down to whisper, “Now, now, be patient or you’ll ruin everything.”
John looked up at her narrow face, hair pulled back tightly into a neat, yet elaborate bun at the base of her neck. She looked out of place in a bar like this, more deserving of a library or school. Her dress was just as fancy as everyone else’s though, and her hands hinted at work much more difficult than serving drinks.
She nodded at him, and he traced her gaze over to the woman he now knew as Miss Laura, who did the same. Reluctantly, he followed, glancing over as Ronon sullenly folded his hands across the table. “I trust there’s gonna be quite the show?” he guessed.
“We only provide quality entertainment here at the Prometheus,” she assured him.
She flashed him a knowing smile and patted Ronon on the arm as she released him. He followed her with his eyes as she strode over to the piano and pulled out some sheet music from the little flip-top bench. She paused just long enough to let him see it held more than just papers before closing it and arranging them across the little stand set up for that purpose. He half expected her to sit down and start playing, but she flitted away, circling the room while Miss Laura thoroughly distracted the new arrivals with an offering of hospitality and quite a decent view of her bosom.
“What are they up to?” Ronon asked, voice little more than a low growl.
“Guess we wait and see,” John directed, watching as Teyla added herself to the little entertainment group for the raiders. He stopped himself from tensing up too much, knowing she could handle herself, but not fully liking it all the same. He took another sip of his ale and settle back to do just that.
The time came near two hours later, if his estimate was accurate. During that time, they sat and watched as the raiders were plied with drinks and food and more of Miss Laura’s brand of hospitality. Their own ale had been switched for a more watered down version about an hour in, little foodstuffs situated in front of them to make sure they were still on the ball and not soggily drunk. The piano started up around the same time and, to John’s surprise, was not played by the woman, but by a tiny man in a suit with near translucent skin, huge dark eyes, and a bowler hat instead. John was not ashamed to admit he found him a bit unnerving, but the schoolmarmish woman seemed to trust him, so he let it be for now.
He nearly missed the signal to begin the festivities, but definitely did not miss the response. One minute, the women were laughing and flirting with the now rather grabby raiders, Miss Laura assuming a very improper pose with one leg propped up on a chair, revealing more than a fair bit of her stockings as she appeared to smooth out her skirt. The next had a gun in her hand and an arm around the head raider’s throat.
Luckily, most everyone aside from the raiders and themselves had cleared out by then. Those who hadn’t quickly did so. It was soon a mess of guns and punching and general chaos. One of the raiders had grabbed Teyla, who kicked him in a rather sensitive area before elbowing him in the face and tossing him in Ronon’s direction to finish him off.
Aside from Miss Laura and her weaponry, the quiet looking one had grabbed guns from the piano bench, handing them out to the girls and player, all of whom had eerily accurate aim. John, Ronon, and even Rodney helped out where they could, taking out as many of the raiders as they could while avoiding getting shot in the process. There seemed to be more raiders than when they started, which made John certain reinforcements must have arrived at the sound of gunfire.
A man at least twice the size of Teyla knocked the gun out of her hand and pushed her up against the bar. Quicker than he could track, she had a knife in each hand and made short work of him. Another approached her from the side, gun at the ready, only to find himself the target of three bullets and Ronon congratulating Rodney on his shot. Tey nodded her thanks before rejoining the fray, not bothering to find another gun as she took men down left and right with her blades. When, at one point, those were hit away as well, she picked up pieces of a broken chair and knocked the man down until she could grab them once more.
John was thoroughly impressed. It was not just her fighting prowess, he had seen her practice with Ronon too many times for that, but the fact she was doing it all in a long cumbersome dress with barely a pause to hike it up to kick another raider out of the way. She pushed one in his direction and he finished him off, knocking the large man unconscious and darting out of the way before he was crushed beneath the bulk.
When all was said and done, about half a dozen raiders or so lay on the ground, bleeding and unarmed, with another half that many clearly no longer breathing. The rest were hogtied and scowling, their weapons lining one of the few tables still standing. Miss Laura and the bartender were standing guard while the others patted them down for anything hidden and checked the bonds. One of the raiders snapped at the tiny piano player, who let loose a vicious snap to the head that quieted him right up.
Leaning against the bar to catch his breath, and to cast a surreptitious glance at the still panting Rodney, he finally asked the non-tied up contingent, “So, will there be any explanation forthcoming, or did you just get bored and decide to have a bit of fun?”
Laura smiled at him, handing her gun over to the barman who simply switched his own to his other hand and aimed both at their catch. “Well, it was fun,” she admitted. “But it was also an assignment,” she added, reaching into a hidden pocket in her waistband to pull out a badge. “U.S. Marshals,” she explained.
“They let girls in now?” Rodney asked in surprised, earning him a slap upside the head from the man next to him. “Ow,” he muttered.
Laura simply grinned. “Special assignments only,” she clarified. “We felt people raiding stagecoaches and stealing bank plans qualified, not to mention some of the other stuff they were involved in. Didn’t get them all, but this should put a decent sized dent in their numbers, at least for a while. Let us get them situated, and your Teyla can explain,” she promised.
John nodded, not like he could really do much else. It was the U.S. Marshal’s prerogative at this point, and he really didn’t expect a full disclosure. If they were willing to share anything, he’d take it. He also figured they were smart enough to know there was no way Tey could keep all of this from her friends, at least not for long.
He and his team waited patiently while the bleeding men were patched up and the surviving raiders were taken wherever it was they were to be held for the evening. Teyla led them back to the room she had been staying in the past few days. It wasn’t big, but it looked comfortable, with a bed, a table-like desk, and an overstuffed chair. She didn’t say much at first, but she did allow Rodney to fuss over a scratch on her arm, letting him wrap it up with barely an eye roll.
They all got comfortable in their own ways, settling in for the long haul and subtly reminding her they expected her to spill the whole story. Ronon straddled the desk chair while Rodney took up residence in the armchair. John sprawled on the floor, the bed serving as his backrest. Teyla took the bed, boots kicked off and skirt hiked up to a comfortable level as she leaned up against the simple wall. Before she started, she reached behind the headboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “A gift from the Marshals,” she said with a wry smile.
There were no glasses to be found, but they didn’t go missed as she pulled the cork out with her teeth and took a healthy swig straight from the bottle. She shook her head and breathed heavily at the strength before passing it on, pointedly ignoring both McKay’s, “That is so unsanitary,” and Ronon’s “Get over it.” John readily took a pull from the bottle, feeling the liquid burn a path down his throat as he listened to her tale.
Miss Laura, also known as Agent Cadman, and her team had figured Teyla out pretty much the instant she stepped into the tavern. Instead of stopping her or letting her get herself killed, they recruited her for the mission and gave her the supplies she needed, stating they needed all the help they could get to pull this thing off. Apparently they had this set up going for well over a month now, with other girls coming and going about weekly to report their progress on up to their superiors. They had finally tracked enough evidence back to at least this particular group of raiders, and were ready to make their move. It was just timing and happenstance that the Atlantis team arrived when they did.
When Tey started yawning, and the bottle was nearing empty, they decided to call it a night. There was nowhere else to stay, and they were all quite comfortable and used to being together, so they crashed out in her room, leaving the bed to her while they took up places on the plush rugs. Morning came too soon, and brought with it more than a hint of hangover for all but Ronon, who offered to go scrounge up some food for them. Sheppard dragged himself along to give Tey a chance to wash up and change in peace, with McKay nervously pacing the hallways just in case some of the raider’s supporters tried to get back at any available target.
After a quick breakfast, Rodney and Ronon went to gather the horses, meeting up again just outside the tavern. Cadman and her team were suiting up to leave at the same time, looking far more official with her hair neatly pulled back and wearing a formal split skirt for riding and a well tailored jacked with a shiny badge on the lapel. As much as it seemed she was, she actually wasn’t the person in charge though, the bartender with the real identity of Agent Evan Lorne was, and he was barking out orders to get everyone in gear.
“You sure you won’t accept our offer?” Cadman asked, swinging herself up onto her horse. She had barely blinked when Tey arrived dressed in her usual boyish attire, looking like she expected no less.
Tey, for her part, looked far more comfortable in her trousers and twill shirt, hat perched low on her head. “It is an enticing offer, but I already have a place, and a team, that I belong to,” she replied, making John’s chest swell with pride. He could see the temptation that was being offered and had a fair idea what it was costing her to turn it down.
Cadman smirked, “Who said you’d have to leave ‘em? We’re always lookin’ for a few good agents.”
The schoolmarmish one, Agent Novak, handed them a package before climbing into a carriage with the piano player, a man with a name John had no hope of pronouncing correctly. “Thought you might want that,” she called, nodding her thanks before signaling the driver it was time to leave.
John took a peek beneath the wrapping, finding the documents they had been trying to recover all along.
He looked up as Cadman offered an envelope of her own. “Offer still stands,” she said before nudging her horse and joining the others.
“What the hell was that?” Rodney asked, checking the buckles on his saddle, even though the stableman had already done so.
“I believe we just got a job offer,” Ronon clarified, swinging himself up onto his ride.
Rodney simply scoffed. “Yeah, like what we do isn’t dangerous enough already...” he complained good-naturedly as he climbed up onto his own.
John tucked the documents into one of his saddlebags with a smile. “Yeah, but they’ve got shiny badges and pretty guns,” he reasoned.
“And some really decent whiskey,” Tey added wistfully.
“Amen to that,” John laughed. Getting himself situated on his horse, he said, “Let’s go home.” With one final glance at his friends he headed out, knowing, as always, they would be right by his side.
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Genre: SGA, AU, Team
Rating: PG-13 for language
Synopsis: The team decides to get proactive about the raiders, but will Tey get caught in the middle?
Author’s Notes: For the team_sga AU Fest. Based in the Atlantis Riders universe which is a fusion with the old “Young Riders” series.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them and making no money from this.
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“This is such a bad idea,” Rodney moaned, pacing the length of the barn where they had just stabled their horses.
“We don’t have that many other options,” John tried to reason. He pulled off his hat and scrubbed a hand through his hair, knowing it was a mess, but not really caring. The weather was that hot humidity that came just before a summer rainstorm, and his skin felt like it was trying to crawl off somewhere to hide. This was the second day in a row like this, and he would’ve preferred the sky just rip open instead of fiddling around with them.
Rodney spun around to face him. “You want options? I’ll give you options!” he nearly screamed, the fact that they were technically still in public the only thing keeping him remotely civil. “What about callin’ the authorities, hmm? You know, the people paid to deal with this? Or, what about simply hitting the tavern ourselves to skunk around for information? Or, you know, anything that doesn’t send Tey into what can reasonably be called enemy territory alone to fend for herself?”
“Tey likes to fend for herself,” John pointed out, leaning against the barn to try to take advantage of its lengthening shadow in the late afternoon sun. And, because he could not resist, he added, “And she’s better at it than you.”
“That’s not the point!” Rodney exclaimed, resuming his pacing again.
“Then what is the point?” Ronon asked. He had claimed the largest spot of covering the moment their little debate broke out, willing to sit back and wait it out as always. He must have been a bit on edge himself if he was contributing to the fray this early on in the argument.
“The point is that you let an unarmed woman stake out a seedy little bar that is a known hang out for the raiders all on her own!” he glared. “She could be helpless at their mercy right now, and we wouldn’t know!”
“Dare you to say that to her face,” Ronon baited.
“Which part? The ‘helpless’ or the ‘woman’?” Sheppard smirked.
“Either,” he grinned back. “’Sides, she ain’t exactly unarmed,” he told Rodney, bringing him back around to the point of the whole debate.
“How many knives?” John asked knowingly.
Ronon pulled one out of his own sleeve to show how easily hidden they could be. “She’s got three of mine and at least another two of her own,” he replied, flipping the blade and returning it to its hiding place.
“Against how many guns and poisons and what else?” Rodney demanded.
Sheppard stood up a bit straighter at that. “Poisons? Where’d you hear that?” Last he heard the raiders were the standard guns and explosives types, with just a lot more of each making them that much more problematic.
Rodney looked indignant which, Sheppard reluctantly admitted, he probably had the right to be. He’d been against this plan from the start, which is why they had Tey sneak off near night while he was distracted with some little gadget he was playing around with. He’d been kinda pissed since. “Carson down at the barber told me. Said Mister Kavanaugh swore he’d been drugged when they got the plans away from him,” he explained tersely.
Sheppard relaxed a bit. “Yeah, but that was Kavanaugh,” he waived it off. “Boy was looking to not have his ass handed to him for losing everything in the first place.”
“I thought that as well, but apparently he was still off enough for Carson to notice something,” Rodney shrugged. “Said there was an odd stain on his shirt that he tried to figure out. Also said Mister Kavanaugh still had his water glass from the night before and there was some blue dregs at the bottom that he’d never come across before.”
“You trust his opinion?” Ronon asked.
McKay readily nodded. “He’s the closest thing we’ve got to medical doctor out here. Went to school out East, but wanted to study the local cures too. His medicine might be witchdoctory, but his research methods are sound.”
Both Ronon and John nodded. If he was good enough for McKay, they’d take his word on him. McKay did his own studies out East, joining the Riders in an attempt to raise funds for some more. He was all knowledge and book smarts and talk, but he was usually right when it came to these things.
The three men looked wistfully in the direction of the tavern. They had promised Tey they’d be there tonight. Sun had not yet set, but Sheppard reasoned they could pretend they just came in from a long ride and were looking for something cool to drink. It wouldn’t even be that far from the truth. Two and a half days without their fourth was two and a half too long. Mix in the raiders and their ilk, and all three were needing to make sure she was safe and sound by now.
Ronon cocked his head to the side as a thought came to him, the thick cords of his hair falling forward and into his face. “Did you say it was Kavanaugh that lost everything and got us into this mess in the first place?”
“You can beat ‘em up later,” Sheppard promised.
“If Tey gets a single scratch on her for this, I’ll kill ‘em myself,” Rodney muttered.
Ronon slapped him on the shoulder, both in affection and unity, and nodded. “I’ll help you hide the body,” he promised.
“And Tey will kick both your asses for outin’ her as a girl,” John mused, shaking his head. He purposely said nothing about stopping them though.
“What was Kavanaugh doing with the plans in the first place?” Ronon asked, focusing his gaze away from the tavern and back on his friends. He busied himself with grabbing a length of leather from his pocket and tying his hair back from his face and off his neck, a rather practical thing given the lingering heat of the day.
“Son of someone important, yada, yada,” Rodney said with a dismissive wave. “Swore the plans tied directly to some project he’s been working on, so they let him have a copy. Insert incompetence on his part and fair planning on the raiders part, and there you go.” He paused to take off his hat and wipe his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “Miss Elizabeth is in a tizzy because it’s the third time this month they’ve stolen mechanical plans instead of their usual baubles, hinting at them getting ready for something big.”
Sheppard nodded, all of this was information he had already known. “On the plus side, while they’ve been after paper instead of gold, they haven’t killed or seriously injured anyone in over a month.”
McKay snorted and offered a derisive, “Yet.”
Sheppard wasn’t ashamed to admit that he joined both McKay and Ronon at looking towards the tavern once more as thoughts of Tey and a luck streak gone on far too long to last much longer played through his head. He noted the sky around the building was just turning to hints of orange and gold and figured it was close enough to time. He glanced back at the others and raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Anyone fancy a drink?”
Ronon pushed himself up off the edge of the barn and flipped his hat back on. “Thought you’d never ask,” he grinned.
The walk to the tavern was short, and filled with the forced casualness that made John’s teeth hurt. Smiling politely to everyone they passed, including the ones that glared in their general direction. They got a few nods and even a hint of a grin in return, but he was getting the distinct feeling that this town did not like strangers. Given that the raiders apparently had taken up house here off an on, he could kind of understand the sentiment.
He stepped into the tavern and took a deep breath. Whatever he had been expecting, this was not it. The outside was simple wood and clapboard like most of the town. The inside was near decadent. Oh, there was still the not-quite-bright-enough lights casting parts of the room in shadows, but any and all woods were the fancy polished kind, and both chairs and walls were draped in fabric that looked like it cost more per yard than his monthly pay allotment. The scent of sweat and liquor and unwashed bodies was familiar though, so he took some comfort in that. He did not, however, take any comfort in the fact Tey, much like the three of them, would have stood out like a sore thumb, even with the outfit they had liberated for her.
A redhead in an off the shoulder number just this side of indecent sauntered up to them. Her dress was decorated with what looked to be a combination of lace and feathers and plunged deep enough to show that she had fine pale skin, with the hemline high enough in parts to show off her buttoned leather boots and fancy stockings. “What can I do you for?” she drawled, looking them up and down.
“We’d be much obliged for something cool to drink and a place to wait for a friend,” Sheppard replied, giving her his most dazzling smile.
Her eyes twinkled as she gestured towards an empty table near a well-loved piano in the corner. “You just settle yourselves in and I’ll see what I can do,” she winked, ambling over towards the bar.
As he pulled out his chair, Rodney hissed, “Tey’s life could be in danger, and you stop to flirt?”
“Nothing wrong with being friendly,” he said evenly, still taking in their surroundings. There were a few darker corners where the light didn’t hit, but no one seemed gathered there yet. For the most part, things seemed normal, if not a slightly upscale version of normal. Still didn’t stop the feeling at the back of his skull that there was something more than drinking going on in this little piece of elegance.
“Somethin’s up,” Ronon said succinctly, slouching down in his seat.
He nodded in agreement as Rodney looked around nervously. “Any idea what?” he asked.
“Not yet,” the larger man shrugged. “Let you know when I find out.”
It was fair enough, so he went with it. Besides, the redhead was coming back with three mugs of some amber colored liquid. He dropped a few coins on the table and she scooped them up before leaning in close, her unmentionables near pressed against him. Dipping her head down, little strands of feathers and curls brushing his cheek, she whispered in his ear, “Don’t trust anything not given to you by me or my girls.” He blinked, not expecting that. He also didn’t expect her to run a finger down the buttons of his shirt and add, “Okay, John?”
He nodded dumbly as she disappeared, taking a sniff and then a sip of what turned out to be rather decent ale to steady himself. There appeared to be nothing wrong with it, and he glanced around the tavern to find her at the bar, talking to a shorter man with carefully combed hair and a bowtie, but keeping her eyes on him as she did so. He nodded, and noticed her subtle reply.
“What was that about?” Rodney demanded, making a put upon face.
“Friend of Tey’s?” Ronon guessed.
John settled back in his chair, fingers tracing the edge of his mug. “Might be,” he agreed. “Says not to trust anyone ‘cept her girls.”
“And why should we trust her?” Rodney asked.
“’Cause she gave us the good stuff and put us where we can see the whole room,” Ronon supplied. He sniffed his own glass before taking a healthy swig of it.
Anything else McKay was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of what John had to assume were “the girls”. Three women, dressed like the first, came sweeping down the staircase near the bar in a cloud of ruffles, sparkles, and perfume, their lilting laughter nearly drowned out by the clapping and whistling they received for their efforts. He had no idea if they were there to serve drinks or provide entertainment, but they were clearly welcomed by all.
The first woman joined them as they began to circulate around the room, flirting with each table before rounding up more drinks and more cash for the till. Two worked their way towards them, one stopping at a nearby table with a glance over her shoulder while the other finally reached theirs with a rather purposeful stride.
Finally able to see her clearly, John was surprised his jaw didn’t physically hit the table from the revelation he was knocked upside the head with. Before him, draped in lace and ruffles and some sort of silken fabric was Tey.
Swallowing heavily, he mentally corrected himself. There was no trace of their tomboy teammate in the woman before him. Teyla was all curves and femininity and woman, like he had never seen her before. He knew she was beautiful, but he always thought it was the way she handled herself, her confidence as she rode beside them or tackled each and every one of them to the ground during their impromptu wrestling matches. Looking at her now though, he never would have guessed she was the same “boy” in trousers who forced him to muck out the stalls just last week.
A quick peek at the others showed they were having a similar reaction. Ronon had a secretive smile gracing his face, while Rodney was turning an interesting shade of pink. The would-be scholar took a quick gulp of his ale to try to cover his reaction, but nearly choked on it instead, most likely not expecting its strength. Ronon helpfully slapped him on the back with a muffled chuckle.
Teyla, for her part, looked like she was trying not to laugh at their antics. She stood serenely, hand resting on one silken hip, and batted her eyes at them. “Never seen a girl in a dress before?” she teased.
“You look...” John started.
“Like a woman!” Rodney blurted, earning him a slap upside the head by his nearest teammate.
“Fantastic,” Ronon corrected for him.
“Where in the world did you find that get up?” Rodney asked, flabbergasted. “Unless you made some major alterations to Miss Elizabeth’s dress, there’s no way you stole that from her closet.”
John thought back to the prim and proper stylings of their housemother and was forced to agree. Miss Elizabeth wore simple, functional dresses that were nice, yet conservative, much like herself. Teyla was originally going to sneak one of hers for this little ploy, but apparently the plan had changed.
“You do not like it?” she asked innocently, playing with a strand of her perfectly coifed hair. It was a far cry from most days where they had to remind her to use a comb or brush.
John answered before Rodney could stick his foot in his mouth even more. “We like it,” he assured her. “It’s just... unexpected, that’s all. What happened?”
“Miss Laura and her assistants helped me out,” she explained. “Apparently Miss Elizabeth’s dress was not quite up to their standards.”
“Miss Laura’s the redhead?” Ronon guessed.
Teyla nodded. “And quite full of much valuable information,” she added. Her head snapped up and her gaze focused on the door. “I would love to elaborate, but now is not the time,” she non-explained. She circled the table, offering friendly touches across their shoulders, her eyes darting between the door and the bar. “Be ready, and remember the girls are on our side,” she directed before gliding over to the next table.
“What the hell was that?” Rodney exclaimed quietly, throwing his hands up into the air.
“I think we’re about to find out,” John mused, pushing his drink towards him. He watched as the weasely looking man who had just entered darted back out the door, only to return a moment later with several others. The new arrivals were much larger, with stringy blonde hair and rather pale skin given the bright sun from earlier that day. Definitely not from around these parts, at least not originally. The fact they were dressed near head to toe in what looked to be black leather really added to that opinion. Shiny silver pistols hung at their sides, and they walked with the confidence of those rarely challenged.
“Raiders?” Rodney gulped. It was one thing to know they had contacts hereabouts, but an entirely other for them to stride right on in.
“Would be my guess,” Ronon agreed. His hand drifted below the table, and John heard the subtle click as he reached for his gun.
A long, slender hand wrapped around the larger man’s upper arm stilled the movement. One of the ladies that had arrived with Teyla leaned down to whisper, “Now, now, be patient or you’ll ruin everything.”
John looked up at her narrow face, hair pulled back tightly into a neat, yet elaborate bun at the base of her neck. She looked out of place in a bar like this, more deserving of a library or school. Her dress was just as fancy as everyone else’s though, and her hands hinted at work much more difficult than serving drinks.
She nodded at him, and he traced her gaze over to the woman he now knew as Miss Laura, who did the same. Reluctantly, he followed, glancing over as Ronon sullenly folded his hands across the table. “I trust there’s gonna be quite the show?” he guessed.
“We only provide quality entertainment here at the Prometheus,” she assured him.
She flashed him a knowing smile and patted Ronon on the arm as she released him. He followed her with his eyes as she strode over to the piano and pulled out some sheet music from the little flip-top bench. She paused just long enough to let him see it held more than just papers before closing it and arranging them across the little stand set up for that purpose. He half expected her to sit down and start playing, but she flitted away, circling the room while Miss Laura thoroughly distracted the new arrivals with an offering of hospitality and quite a decent view of her bosom.
“What are they up to?” Ronon asked, voice little more than a low growl.
“Guess we wait and see,” John directed, watching as Teyla added herself to the little entertainment group for the raiders. He stopped himself from tensing up too much, knowing she could handle herself, but not fully liking it all the same. He took another sip of his ale and settle back to do just that.
The time came near two hours later, if his estimate was accurate. During that time, they sat and watched as the raiders were plied with drinks and food and more of Miss Laura’s brand of hospitality. Their own ale had been switched for a more watered down version about an hour in, little foodstuffs situated in front of them to make sure they were still on the ball and not soggily drunk. The piano started up around the same time and, to John’s surprise, was not played by the woman, but by a tiny man in a suit with near translucent skin, huge dark eyes, and a bowler hat instead. John was not ashamed to admit he found him a bit unnerving, but the schoolmarmish woman seemed to trust him, so he let it be for now.
He nearly missed the signal to begin the festivities, but definitely did not miss the response. One minute, the women were laughing and flirting with the now rather grabby raiders, Miss Laura assuming a very improper pose with one leg propped up on a chair, revealing more than a fair bit of her stockings as she appeared to smooth out her skirt. The next had a gun in her hand and an arm around the head raider’s throat.
Luckily, most everyone aside from the raiders and themselves had cleared out by then. Those who hadn’t quickly did so. It was soon a mess of guns and punching and general chaos. One of the raiders had grabbed Teyla, who kicked him in a rather sensitive area before elbowing him in the face and tossing him in Ronon’s direction to finish him off.
Aside from Miss Laura and her weaponry, the quiet looking one had grabbed guns from the piano bench, handing them out to the girls and player, all of whom had eerily accurate aim. John, Ronon, and even Rodney helped out where they could, taking out as many of the raiders as they could while avoiding getting shot in the process. There seemed to be more raiders than when they started, which made John certain reinforcements must have arrived at the sound of gunfire.
A man at least twice the size of Teyla knocked the gun out of her hand and pushed her up against the bar. Quicker than he could track, she had a knife in each hand and made short work of him. Another approached her from the side, gun at the ready, only to find himself the target of three bullets and Ronon congratulating Rodney on his shot. Tey nodded her thanks before rejoining the fray, not bothering to find another gun as she took men down left and right with her blades. When, at one point, those were hit away as well, she picked up pieces of a broken chair and knocked the man down until she could grab them once more.
John was thoroughly impressed. It was not just her fighting prowess, he had seen her practice with Ronon too many times for that, but the fact she was doing it all in a long cumbersome dress with barely a pause to hike it up to kick another raider out of the way. She pushed one in his direction and he finished him off, knocking the large man unconscious and darting out of the way before he was crushed beneath the bulk.
When all was said and done, about half a dozen raiders or so lay on the ground, bleeding and unarmed, with another half that many clearly no longer breathing. The rest were hogtied and scowling, their weapons lining one of the few tables still standing. Miss Laura and the bartender were standing guard while the others patted them down for anything hidden and checked the bonds. One of the raiders snapped at the tiny piano player, who let loose a vicious snap to the head that quieted him right up.
Leaning against the bar to catch his breath, and to cast a surreptitious glance at the still panting Rodney, he finally asked the non-tied up contingent, “So, will there be any explanation forthcoming, or did you just get bored and decide to have a bit of fun?”
Laura smiled at him, handing her gun over to the barman who simply switched his own to his other hand and aimed both at their catch. “Well, it was fun,” she admitted. “But it was also an assignment,” she added, reaching into a hidden pocket in her waistband to pull out a badge. “U.S. Marshals,” she explained.
“They let girls in now?” Rodney asked in surprised, earning him a slap upside the head from the man next to him. “Ow,” he muttered.
Laura simply grinned. “Special assignments only,” she clarified. “We felt people raiding stagecoaches and stealing bank plans qualified, not to mention some of the other stuff they were involved in. Didn’t get them all, but this should put a decent sized dent in their numbers, at least for a while. Let us get them situated, and your Teyla can explain,” she promised.
John nodded, not like he could really do much else. It was the U.S. Marshal’s prerogative at this point, and he really didn’t expect a full disclosure. If they were willing to share anything, he’d take it. He also figured they were smart enough to know there was no way Tey could keep all of this from her friends, at least not for long.
He and his team waited patiently while the bleeding men were patched up and the surviving raiders were taken wherever it was they were to be held for the evening. Teyla led them back to the room she had been staying in the past few days. It wasn’t big, but it looked comfortable, with a bed, a table-like desk, and an overstuffed chair. She didn’t say much at first, but she did allow Rodney to fuss over a scratch on her arm, letting him wrap it up with barely an eye roll.
They all got comfortable in their own ways, settling in for the long haul and subtly reminding her they expected her to spill the whole story. Ronon straddled the desk chair while Rodney took up residence in the armchair. John sprawled on the floor, the bed serving as his backrest. Teyla took the bed, boots kicked off and skirt hiked up to a comfortable level as she leaned up against the simple wall. Before she started, she reached behind the headboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “A gift from the Marshals,” she said with a wry smile.
There were no glasses to be found, but they didn’t go missed as she pulled the cork out with her teeth and took a healthy swig straight from the bottle. She shook her head and breathed heavily at the strength before passing it on, pointedly ignoring both McKay’s, “That is so unsanitary,” and Ronon’s “Get over it.” John readily took a pull from the bottle, feeling the liquid burn a path down his throat as he listened to her tale.
Miss Laura, also known as Agent Cadman, and her team had figured Teyla out pretty much the instant she stepped into the tavern. Instead of stopping her or letting her get herself killed, they recruited her for the mission and gave her the supplies she needed, stating they needed all the help they could get to pull this thing off. Apparently they had this set up going for well over a month now, with other girls coming and going about weekly to report their progress on up to their superiors. They had finally tracked enough evidence back to at least this particular group of raiders, and were ready to make their move. It was just timing and happenstance that the Atlantis team arrived when they did.
When Tey started yawning, and the bottle was nearing empty, they decided to call it a night. There was nowhere else to stay, and they were all quite comfortable and used to being together, so they crashed out in her room, leaving the bed to her while they took up places on the plush rugs. Morning came too soon, and brought with it more than a hint of hangover for all but Ronon, who offered to go scrounge up some food for them. Sheppard dragged himself along to give Tey a chance to wash up and change in peace, with McKay nervously pacing the hallways just in case some of the raider’s supporters tried to get back at any available target.
After a quick breakfast, Rodney and Ronon went to gather the horses, meeting up again just outside the tavern. Cadman and her team were suiting up to leave at the same time, looking far more official with her hair neatly pulled back and wearing a formal split skirt for riding and a well tailored jacked with a shiny badge on the lapel. As much as it seemed she was, she actually wasn’t the person in charge though, the bartender with the real identity of Agent Evan Lorne was, and he was barking out orders to get everyone in gear.
“You sure you won’t accept our offer?” Cadman asked, swinging herself up onto her horse. She had barely blinked when Tey arrived dressed in her usual boyish attire, looking like she expected no less.
Tey, for her part, looked far more comfortable in her trousers and twill shirt, hat perched low on her head. “It is an enticing offer, but I already have a place, and a team, that I belong to,” she replied, making John’s chest swell with pride. He could see the temptation that was being offered and had a fair idea what it was costing her to turn it down.
Cadman smirked, “Who said you’d have to leave ‘em? We’re always lookin’ for a few good agents.”
The schoolmarmish one, Agent Novak, handed them a package before climbing into a carriage with the piano player, a man with a name John had no hope of pronouncing correctly. “Thought you might want that,” she called, nodding her thanks before signaling the driver it was time to leave.
John took a peek beneath the wrapping, finding the documents they had been trying to recover all along.
He looked up as Cadman offered an envelope of her own. “Offer still stands,” she said before nudging her horse and joining the others.
“What the hell was that?” Rodney asked, checking the buckles on his saddle, even though the stableman had already done so.
“I believe we just got a job offer,” Ronon clarified, swinging himself up onto his ride.
Rodney simply scoffed. “Yeah, like what we do isn’t dangerous enough already...” he complained good-naturedly as he climbed up onto his own.
John tucked the documents into one of his saddlebags with a smile. “Yeah, but they’ve got shiny badges and pretty guns,” he reasoned.
“And some really decent whiskey,” Tey added wistfully.
“Amen to that,” John laughed. Getting himself situated on his horse, he said, “Let’s go home.” With one final glance at his friends he headed out, knowing, as always, they would be right by his side.
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
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