Love Among the Inanimate by liketheriver (not human challenge)
Title: Love Among the Inanimate
Category: slash/ h/c / humor/ crack
Word Count: ~6,700
Rating: T
Characters: John and Rodney
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None that I can think of any consequence.
A/N: I don't write crack. I don't, and yet... sigh. I have no explanation for where this came from. Thanks, as always, to Koschka for the quick beta.
Summary: Three things John and Rodney never were, but could have been.
Love Among the Inanimate
by liketheriver
Scenario One: Fire Power
It’s far from the first time Sheppard has found himself in this situation, but the rush that comes with it is always the same. His team is pinned down, the enemy is closing in, and they’re fighting for their lives. He’s firing again as soon as he feels the new magazine click into place, his hammer striking the mark, reverberating through his grip, spinning lead heating his barrel, brass cartridges ejecting to the ground below him.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam!
Off to his right there’s the charge of the energy blasts from Ronon, just beyond that he hears Teyla’s familiar P90 stutter. And even though he’s unable to take the time to look for the two of them, he does his best to keep McKay in sight, if only through the occasional glance as he rushes past him. Rodney, the only one of them unable to protect himself with bullets of his own. Rodney, the vulnerable one by the sheer nature of his job. Rodney, who John knows is his responsibility to keep safe. There’s no doubt Ronon and Teyla will do everything in their power to make sure McKay makes it back through the gate, but, at the heart of the matter, the fact is, Rodney is his- his responsibility, his to care for, his to be cared about by, his to return to at the end of a shitty day like today. Rodney is his, plain and simple, just as he is Rodney’s in return.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Sheppard can just make out McKay in the blur of action around them. He’s a dark shadow in his peripheral vision, a black shape keeping low, moving along side him. Good, that’s good. Rodney knows his job in a situation like this as well as John. Stay close, be ready, keep Sheppard in sight, do his damnedest not to get separated.
On a peaceful mission, John is content to let Rodney do his thing. McKay gets him where he’s going and more times than not, he gets Sheppard home at the end of the day. But when things go south, the tables are turned and it’s up to John to make sure the path to the gate is open and the two of them get back to Atlantis.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
There’s a frustrating snick as his slide locks back as the last bullet exits the chamber. No! He has to keep firing. Reload. He needs more ammo. Reload. Now. Now. Now! Rodney’s hunkered down, almost lost in the undergrowth of the forest. Safe. He’s safe. For now. But John’s humming with the need for a new magazine, more ammunition. He feels Rodney watching him, making sure he’s okay, too. And as much as he wants to take the time to reassure him, he can’t. Reload, let’s go. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get the hell out of here and back through the gate.
Finally, the new clip is in place, his slide releases and the shooting resumes. In the distance he sees the stargate and he’s consumed with the thought of almost there, almost home. He can feel that same hope coming from Rodney, too, as he brushes against him, moving at an all out run through the forest. Teyla and Ronon are there running on either side of them and with the DHD so close, he thinks, maybe they’ll all make it after all.
He fires again, covering them as the gate is dialed, as the event horizon bursts to life behind him, and then they’re through the gate and back on Atlantis. His team. All of them safe. All of them whole. And he can finally relax in the relief of a job well done. He’s covered their escape, saw them home, and now he can go home, too. And that’s exactly what he does when he slips exhaustedly into McKay, his teammate and more. So much more. Rodney wraps around him, black nylon holding John tight, letting him know he’s completed his assigned duty and if John could melt into that snug, secure warmth, he would.
Safe, they’re safe. That’s all the matters.
Later, John will clean-up, reload, prepare for the next mission. But for now he’s content to rest in Rodney’s embrace, handgun and holster, at home in their intended state.
Scenario 2: Enlightenment
As far as lamps went, John Sheppard knew he was part of a good one. Some might think they were a little antiquated, out of date, not nearly as sleek and modern as the articulated unit that sat on Elizabeth’s work desk, but John knew better. Why else would Weir have dragged them all over the world, hell, across the universe, if they weren’t a winning team? Long, straight metal bars couldn’t hold a candlelight to Teyla’s ceramic curves, smooth and bulging in all the right places. And that tiny little cone the desk lamp called a shade was nothing in comparison to the rich wool fabric stretched across Carson’s broad reach. They’d changed light bulbs over time. Ford had done a good job for a while, but eventually he’d burned out, some would say too soon. But as much as they’d hated to see him go, in many ways, Ronon really was an improvement. He was a compact fluorescent… a little dim and slow to brighten, but when he got warmed up his dense body radiated light across the entire night stand and no one could beat his stamina.
And then there was John, the cord, the one who let them realize their purpose by transmitting the electrical current from the wall socket to the base that powered Ronon in the first place. It was a very important job, as far as lamps went, and John was not only good at it, he really enjoyed it. He’d known a lot of sockets over the years… there had been the ones back in Georgetown; that hot little number in the Baltics that had nearly fried him despite the adaptor; that button down, straight-laced government issue item at the SGC who was pure sizzle behind her face plate; the one with the GFCI that had kept him warm down in Antarctica; and a couple of hot-ticket Ancient circuits here on Atlantis. Luckily for him, Elizabeth tended to move around a lot in her job, so there wasn’t much chance for getting bogged down in anything long-term. It wasn’t that he was the love ‘em and leave ‘em sort of cord, but, let’s face it, there was nothing quite like sliding home with a new outlet, feeling the way she conducted the current, each one feeding it out to him in her own special way. It was a hell of a life, no doubt about it. And John was perfectly content with it…
… until Elizabeth decided to rearrange her room and John had deal with Rodney McKay.
He’d heard McKay before, wrangling all the tech equipment from across the room, telling the laptop to stop being a primadonna and give a little juice up to the printer when Rodney himself was the only diva in the room. McKay was a surge protector, as he pointed out arrogantly and loudly several times a day. In the past, John had simply been able to sit back and scoff at the pompous attitude of the glorified extension cord, and thank God he didn’t need anything like that. Although, Rodney could be fun to watch… from a distance.
But then Elizabeth’s new alarm clock had arrived and a relaxation therapy light/CD player, and the next thing they knew, John and his team were being moved to the table by the laptop.
“Look,” John told McKay the first time Rodney had told him to saddle up, “no offense, but I really don’t need an extension cord, I’m plenty long enough to reach the outlet myself.”
Rodney simply snorted haughtily, “Yeah, that’s what they all say. And I’m a surge protector, not an extension cord.”
“Whatever. The point is, I’ve never needed anything like that, either. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. So, nothing personal, but I’ll just plug myself directly into the wall if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind?” McKay demanded in outrage. “Don’t mind? Of course I mind. Do you know who that outlet is?”
“Yeah, I think her name’s Katie.” John hadn’t heard much about Katie. She was exclusively dedicated to the techno-dweebs… until now, anyway. “So if you’ll kindly get your unnecessary self out of the way, I’d like to introduce myself.”
“You must a have a short in your wiring. There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near her. She’s the only outlet in the room you haven’t had your way with, and I plan to keep it that way. So if you want to do your job and light up your twisty friend up there, you’re going to have to go through me.”
“Come on, Sheppard,” Ronon coaxed. “Just do it already.” Ronon didn’t care about how he got into the action, just as long as there was action to be had.
“You stay out of this,” John ordered. “I’ve never needed an extension cord before…”
“Surge protector,” McKay reminded grumpily.
“And I sure the hell don’t need one now,” Sheppard finished, ignoring Rodney’s correction.
“Fine, be that way. It’s no joules off my wattage.”
“Fine, I will be.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
“Well,” Carson observed dryly when both attachments fell into a silent sulk, “that was a terribly sensible conversation if ever I heard one.”
That night, for the first time since arriving in Elizabeth’s trunk on Atlantis, John’s lamp remained dark.
The next day Rodney was at him again. “So, what? You decide to get out of the illumination business and take up paper weighting? I mean, your base is pretty shapely, but most statuary doesn’t need a plug.”
“He is correct, John,” Teyla nudged gently. “We are not the most effective lamp if we do not receive electricity.”
“We need power, not a go between,” Sheppard told her. “It’s just not… natural… to use an extension cord.”
“Surge protector,” Rodney snapped impatiently.
John wanted to tie himself into a knot in annoyance. “I don’t need a surge protector. I’m the one who takes care of my team.”
McKay sighed. “Oh, Lord, you’re one of those self-sacrificing types, aren’t you? One of those take-one-for-the-team guys.” The cord snorted. “Look at you; you only have two prongs.”
“And your third prong makes you so special? It’s more like that grounding post of yours is overcompensating for something maybe.”
“Oh, ha ha. I may short myself out laughing at you. You think you’re so hot, kicking it old school with your thin insulation and lack of grounding. I doubt you’re even UL certified.”
“I’m certified,” John defended. “And I’m plenty safe.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. And then one day, pop! Keep it up, Sheppard, and you’re going to lose a bulb because you think you can do it all yourself, and don’t come crying to me when it happens.”
John went silent. After they’d lost Ford, he’d spent a lot of time playing back over things, trying to find some way that he could have kept the kid’s filament glowing. Ford had been too young to just burn out and John had wondered on more than one occasion if he had been the unintentional cause.
Rodney’s snootiness changed to confusion with the silence. “Sheppard?”
“Fuck off, McKay,” he responded morosely, then curled around the table leg and ignored the others.
Teyla tried to rouse him from his funk later, but it didn’t work. Ronon pointed out fluorescents were a hell of a lot more resilient and he shouldn’t worry about that sort of thing happening to him, but it did little good. And late in the night John thought he heard Carson’s brogue rumbling quietly in response to McKay’s hushed questions.
The next morning, McKay’s tone had changed. “Hey, listen, I didn’t know about… that is, things happen that even a surge protector as good as me can’t stop… although you stand a damn better chance against it if you would just....” With a final sigh, Rodney simply said, “I’m sorry and I’m sure you did everything you could to keep him safe.”
John stayed quiet for a moment before finally calling, “Hey, McKay. Be careful with these Ancient outlets.”
“Have you had a bad experience?” he asked inquisitively.
“Never a surge, but Chaya over there had a few spikes. Just… watch yourself. They can catch you off guard.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. Katie’s hardware is Earth-based. It’s tied into the Ancient system, but her modulators are extremely gentle. Between her and my metal oxide varistor we can handle just about anything Pegasus can throw at us.”
“So you evidently have some high-end semiconductors, huh?”
“Actually, I do.” Rodney’s tone was somewhere between smug and impressed that Sheppard understood his inner workings.
“You really like her, don’t you?” John asked in genuine curiosity. He’d known a lot of outlets over the years, had fun with most of them, had some fond memories, but he’d never met one he’d had true affection for.
“Katie? She’s one of the few around here who appreciate me for what I do. And she’s nice to talk to. Not many appliances are on par for a conversation with me.”
“You mean like the one we’re having?”
Rodney paused to consider what John had just asked. “Yeah, like the one we’re having.” Realizing that he’d actually had a real conversation and not just bullied another appliance around, McKay bristled. “When you come to your senses and realize I can actually help you, Sheppard, let me know.”
“I don’t know, McKay. I mean, I’m a cord and you’re a cord…”
“Surge protector!”
“Jesus, okay, you’re a surge protector with a cord, and two cords together like… that...”
Rodney sputtered. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’ve never actually been with an extension… I mean, surge protector before.”
McKay seemed genuinely surprised by his answer and battling between shock and disbelief. “Wow, that’s… seriously? Never? You just seem the type to try… I mean… wow.” But he finally settled with being a smartass. “Well, don’t worry, Sheppard; I’ll be gentle.” Although there was a certain amount of earnestness behind the sarcasm.
John found a way to put it off for three more days. Ignoring Ronon’s angry grumblings about remaining dark and Teyla’s attempts to reason with him and Carson cajoling him to suck it up already and think of England. What he didn’t ignore were McKay’s multiple endeavors on a daily basis to convince him he was being a stubborn moron and things really would be better if Sheppard let Rodney do his job so that John could get back to doing his.
John slowly came to the conclusion that one of the main reasons he hadn’t given in was that he’d actually started looking forward to his daily exchange of barbs with McKay. The surge protector was as smart as he claimed and he had a way of bringing it out in Sheppard, as well. So while their conversations usually started out with goads about prong envy and delusions of electrical superiority, they often evolved into discussion about capacitors and voltage and the delicate balance Rodney fought to supply the tech equipment with the power they needed while redirecting enough away to his ground to keep them from frying.
“Radek is incredibly sensitive to power fluctuations,” Rodney was telling him in a lowered voice so the laptop couldn’t hear him. “But at least he doesn’t bitch about it constantly like Kavanagh does.” The external hard drive was known throughout the room as being a pain in the ass and John just snorted in understanding at the annoying cord who wasplugged in the spot at the very far end of McKay’s power strip. Rodney had slots for five plugs and four of them were sitting in place, neatly lined up before John and McKay simply treated it as business as usual. And then there was the fifth slot, the one nearest Rodney’s on/off switch, the one that had been mocking Sheppard for days… the one that was starting to look less derisive and more inviting the more he got to know McKay.
“And of course the new MP3… MP…”
“McKay?” Sheppard called in worry when the surge protector literally started to hum.
“Oh God, this is… it’s a big one… I’m not sure…”
It was a surge, a massive one by the way McKay was reacting. “Rodney, you can do this,” John reassured. But the whining just increased when the overhead lights flickered.
“It’s the main power supply. It’s overloading. It’s… I can’t…” And with a sickening pop, Rodney fell silent and the entire room went dark.
“Rodney? McKay!”
But there was no answer. McKay had a reset button, John reminded himself. He was designed for just this sort of situation, and when Elizabeth returned to her room later that night and reset Rodney, everything would go back to the way it had been before. McKay would be back to his pompously annoying self and all it would take would be a simple reset. “Rodney?” John tried again, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer but unable to not at least try. Of course there was no response and John was left to sit in the ominous blackness of the room and wait for someone to restore power to the city.
The natural sunshine lit the room before the artificial overhead illumination returned late the next afternoon. Elizabeth came exhaustedly into the room not long after that, and John was afraid she’d just collapse into bed without resetting McKay and he’d have to wait even longer to find out if Rodney was really okay. But she evidently needed to monitor something on her computer and when it didn’t come on, she groaned and squatted down to investigate the problem. With the push of a button, the computer equipment on her desk started whirring to life, and so did Rodney.
“Sheppard?”
“Hey, buddy,” John tried to sound confident and reassuring but he doubted he was hiding the absolute relief he felt at hearing Rodney. “How’re you doing?”
“Oh my God! I nearly… that surge… it felt the entire fucking ZedPM was flowing through the wall! I can’t believe I’m still here.”
Then again, Rodney’s rambling wasn’t making John feel all that much better after all. “Yeah, you gave me a little bit of a scare there. All of us, I mean. You gave all of us a scare. But you’re okay now, right?”
“I’ve never felt anything like that before. Holy shit, something like that could have fried my circuitry! It could have fused my…”
“Rodney, calm down. It didn’t do any of that. Okay? It didn’t. And you’re already back to work.”
“I nearly… what?” Evidently McKay had finally heard what Sheppard was trying to tell him.
“Nothing fried or fused or melted. You did good, McKay, and you’re powering all the tech right now.”
“I am?” Confirming for himself what John said, Rodney let out a nervous little laugh. “I am, aren’t I?”
Sheppard found himself laughing, too. “Yeah, you are.”
And he was so caught up in pure happiness at seeing Rodney alive and well that he didn’t notice Elizabeth fiddling with the rest of his team and trying to figure out why Ronon wasn’t lighting up. “Ah, well, here’s the problem,” she proclaimed to herself, taking John and sliding him into the socket Rodney had been reserving just for him.
“No, wait!” Because McKay had just had one hell of a scare and adding another responsibility to his power strip was the last thing he wanted to do. But then he felt the power coursing through him, along his entire length up to the rest of his team, and it felt so good, so right, that all he could do was let out a little, “oh… wow.”
“Sheppard, you okay?” All the panic was gone, and McKay was back in charge. And was he ever. John could only sit there, feeling the electricity Rodney was feeding him, the gentle ebb and flow of it traveling through him. “John?”
“Is it like this…?” Rodney sent him a little jolt, just the smallest zap, that warmed his prongs instantly. “God… is it like this for everyone?”
The zap was replaced by a rhythmic feed, sweet and steady and almost tender, and John thought if he could feel like this forever it would be the perfect way to spend the rest of his existence. “Not everyone, Sheppard,” Rodney told him, sounding like he was floating in that same happy cloud where John was residing. “Only you.”
“Is this what it feels like for you… with Katie?” Please say no, please say no, please say no. Because Sheppard had never been the jealous type, but, then again, he’d never had it this good with any outlets he’d known.
“Only you,” Rodney repeated in a whizzing purr. John did his best to seat himself a little deeper and the purr turned into a low rumbling hum that vibrated through his pins in a way that made John gasp and stutter and lose his concentration.
Ronon dimmed then brightened then dimmed again. “Sheppard, what the hell is going on down there?”
“Sorry,” he practically squeaked, trying to bring it all back under control. But, God, it felt so good just to let Rodney have his way with him and just ride along the currents. “Hey, Rodney? Can you maybe do that thing with the zap again?” Jesus, was that him sounding so desperate?
But Rodney only gave a contended buzz. “Anything you want, John.” When he did as requested, John was pretty damn sure he’d never go back to a wall unit again.
Elizabeth did go to sleep soon after and when she woke to the sound of the gate tech calling her on her radio, she climbed from bed, staggered sleepily over to the table with her computer and tried to flick on the lamp. It didn’t work. And neither did the computer. “What in the world?” she asked in befuddlement when she looked back behind the table again.
She’d thought she’d simply have to reset the surge protector again, but she quickly saw that wasn’t the problem. Instead, she found all her computer gear unplugged, with only the lamp still seated in the power strip. The surge protector itself was also unplugged from the wall and its cord had seemingly snaked itself into a jumbled knot with the lamp cord. She started to untangle them so she could plug the power strip back into the wall when she noted one of its prongs was slightly bent. Realizing this was going to take longer than she had intended, Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll deal with you later,” she informed the twined wires before standing and turning the overhead lights on instead.
John just twisted around Rodney a little tighter. “You’re pretty smart for an extension cord, McKay.”
“Surge protector,” Rodney pointed out lazily. “And what can I say? You bring it out in me.”
But Sheppard had already come to the conclusion that meeting McKay had been the most enlightening experience of his life.
Scenario 3: Tactical Advantage
For some strange reason, Sheppard had decided that the Atlantis away teams needed a locker room, and as a result, Rodney’s vest ended up hanging on a tiny wire hanger on a less than impressive rack at the end of the row of miniscule lockers… which is why it, and all the other vests, were on a separate rack instead of in the lockers to begin with. Seriously, who was stocking this place, the seven dwarves? It was like the SGC logistics staffers were ordering all the furniture from a children’s menu. And as a result, Rodney’s vest ended up losing any semblance of privacy. Even though, honestly, it found hanging on a rack much more pleasant than being tossed haphazardly to dangle suspended between Rodney’s chair and his floor. Still, it had to agree with McKay’s assessment of the locker room on principle alone.
“Why the hell do we need a locker room?” Rodney had demanded of Sheppard as he adjusted the vest in the small room. It felt good to be spread over Rodney’s soft form compared to the thin wires that had been eating into it for the past day and a half.
“Wow, Rodney, you must have had some pretty traumatic experiences in gym class to be in such a snit over the idea of a locker room.”
“The accuracy of that statement aside, I still don’t see why we need one.”
“They have one at the SGC.” It was a lame defense and Sheppard knew it by the way he shrugged casually.
“Yes, but the SGC teams don’t live around the corner from the locker room. I mean, my God, I just got dressed so I can walk down the hall and get undressed so I can get dressed again?” With a shake of his head, McKay bent to tie his boots. “It’s like some demented version of Rambo meets Mr. Rogers.”
As if to prove his point of how ludicrous the concept was, Rodney showed up to gear up for the missions in his bathrobe over boxers and a t-shirt for the next two weeks. “It’s not laziness,” he countered to the Colonel’s rolled eyes and accusation of just that, “it’s an efficient way to avoid redundancy.”
But even with all his complaining, McKay did show up to dress in the locker room with the rest of the away teams, so the vest stayed on its flimsy little hanger instead of on Rodney’s floor during the down time. Aside from the one time that Cadman snuck in and tightened the side cinches to make Rodney think he’d gained weight, it was a fairly uneventful time. McKay never said anything about the snug fit, although it was obvious he suspected something was amiss seeing as he started hanging his vest from the top of his locker door instead of the rack. Although, to the physicist’s credit, within two weeks, the vest fit again. It was during those two weeks that he left the bathrobe at home and started showing up in the locker room red-faced and dripping with sweat, wearing running shoes and shorts, trailing after Sheppard and Ronon, who were barely breathing hard.
“You okay, McKay?” Sheppard asked as he pulled a bottle of water from his tiny locker. The vest thought it was more to make room for his towel than for the need for rehydration since a liter of water and piece of terry cloth were pushing the capacity limit of the small storage compartment.
Rodney lifted his head to look at the man watching him with an expression somewhere between amusement and concern, as if he wasn’t sure if he should laugh at McKay’s condition or dial 9-1- just in case the last digit suddenly became necessary when Rodney clenched his chest in agony.
“Fine, I’m fine,” Rodney assured, but the vest itself was wondering who they would reassign it to when McKay actually did fall prey to the heart attack he was obviously on the verge of having. Pushing himself up from where he’d sprawled on the bench in the middle of the room, Rodney told his teammates, “I’m going to hit the shower before we head out. Thanks for the workout, guys.”
Sheppard and Ronon watched McKay stagger into the shower room before Ronon turned back to his team leader and demanded, “What the hell is up with him running with us?”
“I have no idea,” Sheppard shrugged, “but if he can keep from having a coronary out on the docks, I think it’s actually a good thing.”
“We didn’t even run a full mile,” the Satedan pointed out.
“He’ll get better,” Sheppard assured, then took another drink of water. “And in the meantime we’ll make up the mileage we usually run at night.”
Ronon grumbled under his breath but Sheppard pointed out, “Wouldn’t you feel better knowing he could keep up with us if we need to make a quick escape?”
“Last I saw, he outpaced all of us when it came to running away from a firefight.”
“And he made it to the gate and called in backup,” Sheppard reminded, “which probably saved all our asses. In my book that falls in the good column.”
When Sheppard grabbed his own towel and headed toward the showers, Ronon called after him, “You owe me five miles, Sheppard,” before throwing his own towel over his shoulder and followed him.
Once again, Rodney’s vest thanked its lucky stars it hadn’t been assigned to the Satedan. For the most part, McKay didn’t take too many risks when bullets started flying, which meant the vest was in relatively good shape. But that changed a few months later.
For some reason the vest couldn’t completely figure out, McKay’s team was once again in a situation that happened an inordinately large number of times since their arrival in the Pegaus galaxy… they were under fire. Normally, Rodney would have been doing his best to stay low, and let his team take most of the tactical risks. Laying down suppressive fire (i.e. firing blindly into the mass of those in pursuit) while Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard took a more precision approach to slowing their foes was much more his speed. But today, he and Sheppard had been separated from Ronon and Teyla and he was sticking much closer to his teammate.
Rodney was running full out, evidently concentrating on getting away from those behind them so that he didn’t see the attack coming from in front of them. Sheppard did, though, and McKay’s vest felt long fingers curl over its back collar and yank hard enough to pull Rodney off his feet to land of his back with an audible “oof!”
The colonel started firing into the trees in front of them while Rodney lay on his back staring dazedly up at the cloudless sky as he fought to suck in the breath that had been slammed out of his lung with his fall. Tilting his head back, he could see two more men coming up from behind. From his vantage point, they appeared to be running pretty damn fast considering they were upside down. Looking back at Sheppard, the man obviously had no clue they were there.
“Sheppard,” he wheezed, but he couldn’t be heard over the P90 fire. So, he did the only thing he could think to do; he rolled over and pushed himself up from the grass.
The men coming up behind them actually paused when Rodney stood; apparently they had thought he must have been down from a gunshot from their partners Sheppard was shooting at. But they recovered quicker than Rodney could. Hell, given the way he was struggling to breathe, his vest was honestly amazed that McKay was standing at all. And that’s when the two shots were fired and hit the vest over Rodney’s heart.
Rodney had no sooner straightened on his feet than he was back on the ground. “McKay!” Sheppard yelled, swinging and taking out the two men before they got off another shot.
Holy shit, it had been shot! Sure, that’s what tac vests were there for, what they were made for, but still… those sons of bitches had shot it!
“Rodney?” Sheppard dropped to his knees beside McKay. “Fuck, McKay, answer me!”
“Ow.” Rodney grimaced and just lay staring up at the sky.
“Where are you hit?”
“Chest.” And, seriously, was Sheppard blind? The vest was smoking from the goddamn burn marks. If the colonel had been looking anywhere but at Rodney’s face, he’d see that. But the groan from McKay did have him looking and practically ripping the vest open. As if being shot wasn’t bad enough.
The vest felt Sheppard’s hand slide under it and across Rodney’s chest. “You’re…” He gulped air before sitting back on his haunches. “You’re okay, the vest stopped the bullets.”
You’re welcome, the vest thought dryly when the only thanks it received was Rodney trying to sit. “Well, it damn well better or Jeannie would have one hell of a lawsuit on her hands in my wrongful death.”
“What did you do?” Sheppard asked in wonder.
“What?” McKay rubbed gingerly at the spot beneath the plates of his vest. “I tried to warn you but you couldn’t hear me, so I had to stop them before they shot you.”
“You…” Sheppard opened then closed his mouth, tilting his head as if trying to figure out exactly which emotion he was going to try to control first. “You stepped in front of a bullet meant for me?”
“Two actually,” Rodney pointed out, trying to see his chest.
“You stepped in front of a fucking gun that was pointed at me?”
“Well, apparently, yes.” Rodney’s brow furrowed in confusion at the reaction.
Sheppard looked like he was going to really lay into McKay, but instead he clamped his mouth shut and slapped Rodney’s hand away from its survey of his chest and ordered. “Button that goddamn thing up. We’re not out of here yet.”
McKay ignored him and instead stood and demanded, “What is your problem?”
“You just stay behind me until we get back to the Jumper. Got it?”
“Yes, because that’s where I was when I took a bullet for you,” Rodney snapped back. “No, wait, two bullets. I guess it’s too much to ask for a little gratitude.”
Sheppard grabbed the front of Rodney’s vest and pulled him in so close the vest was rubbing against Sheppard’s own. The two men stared at each other, eyes widened, both breathing hard, each waiting for the other to do… something.
“John…” McKay’s voice cracked on the name, giving it an almost questioning inflection.
The vest could feel Sheppard’s hands trembling where they held it in a white knuckled grip, as if they were fighting to decide if they wanted to push Rodney away or pull him in closer. They finally settled on giving a quick shake and Sheppard stepped back, saying quietly. “I told you to button up.”
This time Rodney did as he was told and his vest could feel his owner’s fingers shaking as much as Sheppard’s had been. They made it back to the Jumper with little resistance and even less talking, and Rodney completely bypassed the locker room back on Atlantis and went straight to his quarters instead. He’d barely had time to take off his pack and slam his holster on his desk before his door opened without a knock.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Colonel, these are my private quarters, not your high school jock-inspired locker room…”
Sheppard ignored him completely, instead shoving into his chest, and all the vest could think was, is the abuse ever going to stop? “Don’t you ever do anything like that again, McKay. Do you hear me? Never!”
“What? So now you have a monopoly on playing hero? You’re trying to tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for me?”
“That is not the point…”
“Oh, really? Then what is the point? Because I’d sure like for you to get to it so I can get on with the more important things in my life like powering the fucking city and detecting the Wraith and improving the shield and… oh, wait! That might save your life and I’m apparently not allowed to play on that playground.”
Sheppard stepped in closer. “You son of a bitch, that’s exactly why you can’t do shit like that. You could have been killed and then who would power the city and detect the Wraith and keep everyone on this expedition safe?”
“Well, you’re part of this expedition, too, Colonel. A very vital part. A part I seem to think is worth keeping around.”
Shoving a finger in Rodney face, Sheppard snapped, “I’m not nearly as important to this expedition as you, Rodney!”
Rodney didn’t flinch at the appendage a few millimeters from his nose. “Maybe not, but you’re sure the fuck important to me!” When Sheppard simply blinked at him in stunned silence, McKay backed down. “I think you should leave, Sheppard.”
The colonel took a breath, as if to continue the fight, then deflated. “What did you mean?”
“Leave? Depart, exit, go elsewhere…”
“No, what did you mean… you know… when you said I was important to… you?”
“To me, the team, the expedition, to all of us.” Rodney looked anywhere except at Sheppard. When the other man just stood there, McKay headed toward the door. “I should go to the infirmary and get checked out. Make sure…”
Sheppard grabbed him by the arm and swung him around. “You didn’t say ‘everyone’, you said ‘me’.”
His vest could feel Rodney’s heart pounding against it as he finally met Sheppard’s eyes. “I said me,” he admitted quietly, before starting into a typical McKay babble. “And it was totally inappropriate but with all the adrenaline, not to mention testosterone, flying around, and I was shot for God’s sake…”
Fortunately, he was cut off by Sheppard tugging him closer and kissing him.
Rodney froze for a few seconds, as if his brain needed the time to process exactly how he’d gone from a screaming match to a make out session in the blink of an eye. When he finally figured out how or just decided screw it, it doesn’t matter, he threw his arm around Sheppard’s neck and pulled in tighter against him. Rodney’s vest was now pressed so close to Sheppard’s that their compartments were being smashed against each other. And if they kept this up much longer, the vest had no doubt that the power bars in its pocket were going to melt. But it ended up that wasn’t going to be a problem because Sheppard had pulled away enough to start unfastening Rodney’s vest. His hands were still shaking, although this time it was from an almost frantic anticipation instead of fear. McKay was working on Sheppard’s vest, as well, trying to unhook it while simultaneously keeping his mouth on some part of Sheppard at any given moment.
When he reached Sheppard’s throat, murmuring, “John,” needfully against his skin before sucking lightly, Sheppard gave up on the vest, gripping Rodney’s hips, instead, and pulling him in tight. McKay dropped his hands to Sheppard’s ass and the colonel let out a small moan against Rodney’s hair. And then they were kissing again and the vest was convinced that it’d be stuck right there in the middle for the whole damn event.
“You want to know the real reason I set up the locker room, McKay?” Sheppard asked as his teeth nipped along Rodney’s jaw. “So I had an excuse to watch you undress.”
“I feel so used,” Rodney mumbled around John’s earlobe.
“Christ!” Sheppard whimpered desperately as his eyes started to rolled back in response.
That’s when they finally decided clothes, and tac vests, were more of a hindrance than the time necessary to remove them, and the vest found itself in a heap at their feet with Sheppard’s vest on top of it. Well, it thought in resignation, I’m back on the floor.
Although, if it was honest with itself, given a choice between hanging by itself on a rack in the locker room and being bundled up with Sheppard’s… John’s… vest on the floor, the floor wasn’t such a bad choice. Besides, considering the noises coming from the bed, it had a feeling it would be to his tactical advantage to make friends with the vest currently weighing it down. It seemed that they were going to be spending a lot of time together from here on out.
The End
Category: slash/ h/c / humor/ crack
Word Count: ~6,700
Rating: T
Characters: John and Rodney
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None that I can think of any consequence.
A/N: I don't write crack. I don't, and yet... sigh. I have no explanation for where this came from. Thanks, as always, to Koschka for the quick beta.
Summary: Three things John and Rodney never were, but could have been.
Love Among the Inanimate
by liketheriver
Scenario One: Fire Power
It’s far from the first time Sheppard has found himself in this situation, but the rush that comes with it is always the same. His team is pinned down, the enemy is closing in, and they’re fighting for their lives. He’s firing again as soon as he feels the new magazine click into place, his hammer striking the mark, reverberating through his grip, spinning lead heating his barrel, brass cartridges ejecting to the ground below him.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam!
Off to his right there’s the charge of the energy blasts from Ronon, just beyond that he hears Teyla’s familiar P90 stutter. And even though he’s unable to take the time to look for the two of them, he does his best to keep McKay in sight, if only through the occasional glance as he rushes past him. Rodney, the only one of them unable to protect himself with bullets of his own. Rodney, the vulnerable one by the sheer nature of his job. Rodney, who John knows is his responsibility to keep safe. There’s no doubt Ronon and Teyla will do everything in their power to make sure McKay makes it back through the gate, but, at the heart of the matter, the fact is, Rodney is his- his responsibility, his to care for, his to be cared about by, his to return to at the end of a shitty day like today. Rodney is his, plain and simple, just as he is Rodney’s in return.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Sheppard can just make out McKay in the blur of action around them. He’s a dark shadow in his peripheral vision, a black shape keeping low, moving along side him. Good, that’s good. Rodney knows his job in a situation like this as well as John. Stay close, be ready, keep Sheppard in sight, do his damnedest not to get separated.
On a peaceful mission, John is content to let Rodney do his thing. McKay gets him where he’s going and more times than not, he gets Sheppard home at the end of the day. But when things go south, the tables are turned and it’s up to John to make sure the path to the gate is open and the two of them get back to Atlantis.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
There’s a frustrating snick as his slide locks back as the last bullet exits the chamber. No! He has to keep firing. Reload. He needs more ammo. Reload. Now. Now. Now! Rodney’s hunkered down, almost lost in the undergrowth of the forest. Safe. He’s safe. For now. But John’s humming with the need for a new magazine, more ammunition. He feels Rodney watching him, making sure he’s okay, too. And as much as he wants to take the time to reassure him, he can’t. Reload, let’s go. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get the hell out of here and back through the gate.
Finally, the new clip is in place, his slide releases and the shooting resumes. In the distance he sees the stargate and he’s consumed with the thought of almost there, almost home. He can feel that same hope coming from Rodney, too, as he brushes against him, moving at an all out run through the forest. Teyla and Ronon are there running on either side of them and with the DHD so close, he thinks, maybe they’ll all make it after all.
He fires again, covering them as the gate is dialed, as the event horizon bursts to life behind him, and then they’re through the gate and back on Atlantis. His team. All of them safe. All of them whole. And he can finally relax in the relief of a job well done. He’s covered their escape, saw them home, and now he can go home, too. And that’s exactly what he does when he slips exhaustedly into McKay, his teammate and more. So much more. Rodney wraps around him, black nylon holding John tight, letting him know he’s completed his assigned duty and if John could melt into that snug, secure warmth, he would.
Safe, they’re safe. That’s all the matters.
Later, John will clean-up, reload, prepare for the next mission. But for now he’s content to rest in Rodney’s embrace, handgun and holster, at home in their intended state.
Scenario 2: Enlightenment
As far as lamps went, John Sheppard knew he was part of a good one. Some might think they were a little antiquated, out of date, not nearly as sleek and modern as the articulated unit that sat on Elizabeth’s work desk, but John knew better. Why else would Weir have dragged them all over the world, hell, across the universe, if they weren’t a winning team? Long, straight metal bars couldn’t hold a candlelight to Teyla’s ceramic curves, smooth and bulging in all the right places. And that tiny little cone the desk lamp called a shade was nothing in comparison to the rich wool fabric stretched across Carson’s broad reach. They’d changed light bulbs over time. Ford had done a good job for a while, but eventually he’d burned out, some would say too soon. But as much as they’d hated to see him go, in many ways, Ronon really was an improvement. He was a compact fluorescent… a little dim and slow to brighten, but when he got warmed up his dense body radiated light across the entire night stand and no one could beat his stamina.
And then there was John, the cord, the one who let them realize their purpose by transmitting the electrical current from the wall socket to the base that powered Ronon in the first place. It was a very important job, as far as lamps went, and John was not only good at it, he really enjoyed it. He’d known a lot of sockets over the years… there had been the ones back in Georgetown; that hot little number in the Baltics that had nearly fried him despite the adaptor; that button down, straight-laced government issue item at the SGC who was pure sizzle behind her face plate; the one with the GFCI that had kept him warm down in Antarctica; and a couple of hot-ticket Ancient circuits here on Atlantis. Luckily for him, Elizabeth tended to move around a lot in her job, so there wasn’t much chance for getting bogged down in anything long-term. It wasn’t that he was the love ‘em and leave ‘em sort of cord, but, let’s face it, there was nothing quite like sliding home with a new outlet, feeling the way she conducted the current, each one feeding it out to him in her own special way. It was a hell of a life, no doubt about it. And John was perfectly content with it…
… until Elizabeth decided to rearrange her room and John had deal with Rodney McKay.
He’d heard McKay before, wrangling all the tech equipment from across the room, telling the laptop to stop being a primadonna and give a little juice up to the printer when Rodney himself was the only diva in the room. McKay was a surge protector, as he pointed out arrogantly and loudly several times a day. In the past, John had simply been able to sit back and scoff at the pompous attitude of the glorified extension cord, and thank God he didn’t need anything like that. Although, Rodney could be fun to watch… from a distance.
But then Elizabeth’s new alarm clock had arrived and a relaxation therapy light/CD player, and the next thing they knew, John and his team were being moved to the table by the laptop.
“Look,” John told McKay the first time Rodney had told him to saddle up, “no offense, but I really don’t need an extension cord, I’m plenty long enough to reach the outlet myself.”
Rodney simply snorted haughtily, “Yeah, that’s what they all say. And I’m a surge protector, not an extension cord.”
“Whatever. The point is, I’ve never needed anything like that, either. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. So, nothing personal, but I’ll just plug myself directly into the wall if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind?” McKay demanded in outrage. “Don’t mind? Of course I mind. Do you know who that outlet is?”
“Yeah, I think her name’s Katie.” John hadn’t heard much about Katie. She was exclusively dedicated to the techno-dweebs… until now, anyway. “So if you’ll kindly get your unnecessary self out of the way, I’d like to introduce myself.”
“You must a have a short in your wiring. There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near her. She’s the only outlet in the room you haven’t had your way with, and I plan to keep it that way. So if you want to do your job and light up your twisty friend up there, you’re going to have to go through me.”
“Come on, Sheppard,” Ronon coaxed. “Just do it already.” Ronon didn’t care about how he got into the action, just as long as there was action to be had.
“You stay out of this,” John ordered. “I’ve never needed an extension cord before…”
“Surge protector,” McKay reminded grumpily.
“And I sure the hell don’t need one now,” Sheppard finished, ignoring Rodney’s correction.
“Fine, be that way. It’s no joules off my wattage.”
“Fine, I will be.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
“Well,” Carson observed dryly when both attachments fell into a silent sulk, “that was a terribly sensible conversation if ever I heard one.”
That night, for the first time since arriving in Elizabeth’s trunk on Atlantis, John’s lamp remained dark.
The next day Rodney was at him again. “So, what? You decide to get out of the illumination business and take up paper weighting? I mean, your base is pretty shapely, but most statuary doesn’t need a plug.”
“He is correct, John,” Teyla nudged gently. “We are not the most effective lamp if we do not receive electricity.”
“We need power, not a go between,” Sheppard told her. “It’s just not… natural… to use an extension cord.”
“Surge protector,” Rodney snapped impatiently.
John wanted to tie himself into a knot in annoyance. “I don’t need a surge protector. I’m the one who takes care of my team.”
McKay sighed. “Oh, Lord, you’re one of those self-sacrificing types, aren’t you? One of those take-one-for-the-team guys.” The cord snorted. “Look at you; you only have two prongs.”
“And your third prong makes you so special? It’s more like that grounding post of yours is overcompensating for something maybe.”
“Oh, ha ha. I may short myself out laughing at you. You think you’re so hot, kicking it old school with your thin insulation and lack of grounding. I doubt you’re even UL certified.”
“I’m certified,” John defended. “And I’m plenty safe.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. And then one day, pop! Keep it up, Sheppard, and you’re going to lose a bulb because you think you can do it all yourself, and don’t come crying to me when it happens.”
John went silent. After they’d lost Ford, he’d spent a lot of time playing back over things, trying to find some way that he could have kept the kid’s filament glowing. Ford had been too young to just burn out and John had wondered on more than one occasion if he had been the unintentional cause.
Rodney’s snootiness changed to confusion with the silence. “Sheppard?”
“Fuck off, McKay,” he responded morosely, then curled around the table leg and ignored the others.
Teyla tried to rouse him from his funk later, but it didn’t work. Ronon pointed out fluorescents were a hell of a lot more resilient and he shouldn’t worry about that sort of thing happening to him, but it did little good. And late in the night John thought he heard Carson’s brogue rumbling quietly in response to McKay’s hushed questions.
The next morning, McKay’s tone had changed. “Hey, listen, I didn’t know about… that is, things happen that even a surge protector as good as me can’t stop… although you stand a damn better chance against it if you would just....” With a final sigh, Rodney simply said, “I’m sorry and I’m sure you did everything you could to keep him safe.”
John stayed quiet for a moment before finally calling, “Hey, McKay. Be careful with these Ancient outlets.”
“Have you had a bad experience?” he asked inquisitively.
“Never a surge, but Chaya over there had a few spikes. Just… watch yourself. They can catch you off guard.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. Katie’s hardware is Earth-based. It’s tied into the Ancient system, but her modulators are extremely gentle. Between her and my metal oxide varistor we can handle just about anything Pegasus can throw at us.”
“So you evidently have some high-end semiconductors, huh?”
“Actually, I do.” Rodney’s tone was somewhere between smug and impressed that Sheppard understood his inner workings.
“You really like her, don’t you?” John asked in genuine curiosity. He’d known a lot of outlets over the years, had fun with most of them, had some fond memories, but he’d never met one he’d had true affection for.
“Katie? She’s one of the few around here who appreciate me for what I do. And she’s nice to talk to. Not many appliances are on par for a conversation with me.”
“You mean like the one we’re having?”
Rodney paused to consider what John had just asked. “Yeah, like the one we’re having.” Realizing that he’d actually had a real conversation and not just bullied another appliance around, McKay bristled. “When you come to your senses and realize I can actually help you, Sheppard, let me know.”
“I don’t know, McKay. I mean, I’m a cord and you’re a cord…”
“Surge protector!”
“Jesus, okay, you’re a surge protector with a cord, and two cords together like… that...”
Rodney sputtered. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’ve never actually been with an extension… I mean, surge protector before.”
McKay seemed genuinely surprised by his answer and battling between shock and disbelief. “Wow, that’s… seriously? Never? You just seem the type to try… I mean… wow.” But he finally settled with being a smartass. “Well, don’t worry, Sheppard; I’ll be gentle.” Although there was a certain amount of earnestness behind the sarcasm.
John found a way to put it off for three more days. Ignoring Ronon’s angry grumblings about remaining dark and Teyla’s attempts to reason with him and Carson cajoling him to suck it up already and think of England. What he didn’t ignore were McKay’s multiple endeavors on a daily basis to convince him he was being a stubborn moron and things really would be better if Sheppard let Rodney do his job so that John could get back to doing his.
John slowly came to the conclusion that one of the main reasons he hadn’t given in was that he’d actually started looking forward to his daily exchange of barbs with McKay. The surge protector was as smart as he claimed and he had a way of bringing it out in Sheppard, as well. So while their conversations usually started out with goads about prong envy and delusions of electrical superiority, they often evolved into discussion about capacitors and voltage and the delicate balance Rodney fought to supply the tech equipment with the power they needed while redirecting enough away to his ground to keep them from frying.
“Radek is incredibly sensitive to power fluctuations,” Rodney was telling him in a lowered voice so the laptop couldn’t hear him. “But at least he doesn’t bitch about it constantly like Kavanagh does.” The external hard drive was known throughout the room as being a pain in the ass and John just snorted in understanding at the annoying cord who wasplugged in the spot at the very far end of McKay’s power strip. Rodney had slots for five plugs and four of them were sitting in place, neatly lined up before John and McKay simply treated it as business as usual. And then there was the fifth slot, the one nearest Rodney’s on/off switch, the one that had been mocking Sheppard for days… the one that was starting to look less derisive and more inviting the more he got to know McKay.
“And of course the new MP3… MP…”
“McKay?” Sheppard called in worry when the surge protector literally started to hum.
“Oh God, this is… it’s a big one… I’m not sure…”
It was a surge, a massive one by the way McKay was reacting. “Rodney, you can do this,” John reassured. But the whining just increased when the overhead lights flickered.
“It’s the main power supply. It’s overloading. It’s… I can’t…” And with a sickening pop, Rodney fell silent and the entire room went dark.
“Rodney? McKay!”
But there was no answer. McKay had a reset button, John reminded himself. He was designed for just this sort of situation, and when Elizabeth returned to her room later that night and reset Rodney, everything would go back to the way it had been before. McKay would be back to his pompously annoying self and all it would take would be a simple reset. “Rodney?” John tried again, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer but unable to not at least try. Of course there was no response and John was left to sit in the ominous blackness of the room and wait for someone to restore power to the city.
The natural sunshine lit the room before the artificial overhead illumination returned late the next afternoon. Elizabeth came exhaustedly into the room not long after that, and John was afraid she’d just collapse into bed without resetting McKay and he’d have to wait even longer to find out if Rodney was really okay. But she evidently needed to monitor something on her computer and when it didn’t come on, she groaned and squatted down to investigate the problem. With the push of a button, the computer equipment on her desk started whirring to life, and so did Rodney.
“Sheppard?”
“Hey, buddy,” John tried to sound confident and reassuring but he doubted he was hiding the absolute relief he felt at hearing Rodney. “How’re you doing?”
“Oh my God! I nearly… that surge… it felt the entire fucking ZedPM was flowing through the wall! I can’t believe I’m still here.”
Then again, Rodney’s rambling wasn’t making John feel all that much better after all. “Yeah, you gave me a little bit of a scare there. All of us, I mean. You gave all of us a scare. But you’re okay now, right?”
“I’ve never felt anything like that before. Holy shit, something like that could have fried my circuitry! It could have fused my…”
“Rodney, calm down. It didn’t do any of that. Okay? It didn’t. And you’re already back to work.”
“I nearly… what?” Evidently McKay had finally heard what Sheppard was trying to tell him.
“Nothing fried or fused or melted. You did good, McKay, and you’re powering all the tech right now.”
“I am?” Confirming for himself what John said, Rodney let out a nervous little laugh. “I am, aren’t I?”
Sheppard found himself laughing, too. “Yeah, you are.”
And he was so caught up in pure happiness at seeing Rodney alive and well that he didn’t notice Elizabeth fiddling with the rest of his team and trying to figure out why Ronon wasn’t lighting up. “Ah, well, here’s the problem,” she proclaimed to herself, taking John and sliding him into the socket Rodney had been reserving just for him.
“No, wait!” Because McKay had just had one hell of a scare and adding another responsibility to his power strip was the last thing he wanted to do. But then he felt the power coursing through him, along his entire length up to the rest of his team, and it felt so good, so right, that all he could do was let out a little, “oh… wow.”
“Sheppard, you okay?” All the panic was gone, and McKay was back in charge. And was he ever. John could only sit there, feeling the electricity Rodney was feeding him, the gentle ebb and flow of it traveling through him. “John?”
“Is it like this…?” Rodney sent him a little jolt, just the smallest zap, that warmed his prongs instantly. “God… is it like this for everyone?”
The zap was replaced by a rhythmic feed, sweet and steady and almost tender, and John thought if he could feel like this forever it would be the perfect way to spend the rest of his existence. “Not everyone, Sheppard,” Rodney told him, sounding like he was floating in that same happy cloud where John was residing. “Only you.”
“Is this what it feels like for you… with Katie?” Please say no, please say no, please say no. Because Sheppard had never been the jealous type, but, then again, he’d never had it this good with any outlets he’d known.
“Only you,” Rodney repeated in a whizzing purr. John did his best to seat himself a little deeper and the purr turned into a low rumbling hum that vibrated through his pins in a way that made John gasp and stutter and lose his concentration.
Ronon dimmed then brightened then dimmed again. “Sheppard, what the hell is going on down there?”
“Sorry,” he practically squeaked, trying to bring it all back under control. But, God, it felt so good just to let Rodney have his way with him and just ride along the currents. “Hey, Rodney? Can you maybe do that thing with the zap again?” Jesus, was that him sounding so desperate?
But Rodney only gave a contended buzz. “Anything you want, John.” When he did as requested, John was pretty damn sure he’d never go back to a wall unit again.
Elizabeth did go to sleep soon after and when she woke to the sound of the gate tech calling her on her radio, she climbed from bed, staggered sleepily over to the table with her computer and tried to flick on the lamp. It didn’t work. And neither did the computer. “What in the world?” she asked in befuddlement when she looked back behind the table again.
She’d thought she’d simply have to reset the surge protector again, but she quickly saw that wasn’t the problem. Instead, she found all her computer gear unplugged, with only the lamp still seated in the power strip. The surge protector itself was also unplugged from the wall and its cord had seemingly snaked itself into a jumbled knot with the lamp cord. She started to untangle them so she could plug the power strip back into the wall when she noted one of its prongs was slightly bent. Realizing this was going to take longer than she had intended, Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll deal with you later,” she informed the twined wires before standing and turning the overhead lights on instead.
John just twisted around Rodney a little tighter. “You’re pretty smart for an extension cord, McKay.”
“Surge protector,” Rodney pointed out lazily. “And what can I say? You bring it out in me.”
But Sheppard had already come to the conclusion that meeting McKay had been the most enlightening experience of his life.
Scenario 3: Tactical Advantage
For some strange reason, Sheppard had decided that the Atlantis away teams needed a locker room, and as a result, Rodney’s vest ended up hanging on a tiny wire hanger on a less than impressive rack at the end of the row of miniscule lockers… which is why it, and all the other vests, were on a separate rack instead of in the lockers to begin with. Seriously, who was stocking this place, the seven dwarves? It was like the SGC logistics staffers were ordering all the furniture from a children’s menu. And as a result, Rodney’s vest ended up losing any semblance of privacy. Even though, honestly, it found hanging on a rack much more pleasant than being tossed haphazardly to dangle suspended between Rodney’s chair and his floor. Still, it had to agree with McKay’s assessment of the locker room on principle alone.
“Why the hell do we need a locker room?” Rodney had demanded of Sheppard as he adjusted the vest in the small room. It felt good to be spread over Rodney’s soft form compared to the thin wires that had been eating into it for the past day and a half.
“Wow, Rodney, you must have had some pretty traumatic experiences in gym class to be in such a snit over the idea of a locker room.”
“The accuracy of that statement aside, I still don’t see why we need one.”
“They have one at the SGC.” It was a lame defense and Sheppard knew it by the way he shrugged casually.
“Yes, but the SGC teams don’t live around the corner from the locker room. I mean, my God, I just got dressed so I can walk down the hall and get undressed so I can get dressed again?” With a shake of his head, McKay bent to tie his boots. “It’s like some demented version of Rambo meets Mr. Rogers.”
As if to prove his point of how ludicrous the concept was, Rodney showed up to gear up for the missions in his bathrobe over boxers and a t-shirt for the next two weeks. “It’s not laziness,” he countered to the Colonel’s rolled eyes and accusation of just that, “it’s an efficient way to avoid redundancy.”
But even with all his complaining, McKay did show up to dress in the locker room with the rest of the away teams, so the vest stayed on its flimsy little hanger instead of on Rodney’s floor during the down time. Aside from the one time that Cadman snuck in and tightened the side cinches to make Rodney think he’d gained weight, it was a fairly uneventful time. McKay never said anything about the snug fit, although it was obvious he suspected something was amiss seeing as he started hanging his vest from the top of his locker door instead of the rack. Although, to the physicist’s credit, within two weeks, the vest fit again. It was during those two weeks that he left the bathrobe at home and started showing up in the locker room red-faced and dripping with sweat, wearing running shoes and shorts, trailing after Sheppard and Ronon, who were barely breathing hard.
“You okay, McKay?” Sheppard asked as he pulled a bottle of water from his tiny locker. The vest thought it was more to make room for his towel than for the need for rehydration since a liter of water and piece of terry cloth were pushing the capacity limit of the small storage compartment.
Rodney lifted his head to look at the man watching him with an expression somewhere between amusement and concern, as if he wasn’t sure if he should laugh at McKay’s condition or dial 9-1- just in case the last digit suddenly became necessary when Rodney clenched his chest in agony.
“Fine, I’m fine,” Rodney assured, but the vest itself was wondering who they would reassign it to when McKay actually did fall prey to the heart attack he was obviously on the verge of having. Pushing himself up from where he’d sprawled on the bench in the middle of the room, Rodney told his teammates, “I’m going to hit the shower before we head out. Thanks for the workout, guys.”
Sheppard and Ronon watched McKay stagger into the shower room before Ronon turned back to his team leader and demanded, “What the hell is up with him running with us?”
“I have no idea,” Sheppard shrugged, “but if he can keep from having a coronary out on the docks, I think it’s actually a good thing.”
“We didn’t even run a full mile,” the Satedan pointed out.
“He’ll get better,” Sheppard assured, then took another drink of water. “And in the meantime we’ll make up the mileage we usually run at night.”
Ronon grumbled under his breath but Sheppard pointed out, “Wouldn’t you feel better knowing he could keep up with us if we need to make a quick escape?”
“Last I saw, he outpaced all of us when it came to running away from a firefight.”
“And he made it to the gate and called in backup,” Sheppard reminded, “which probably saved all our asses. In my book that falls in the good column.”
When Sheppard grabbed his own towel and headed toward the showers, Ronon called after him, “You owe me five miles, Sheppard,” before throwing his own towel over his shoulder and followed him.
Once again, Rodney’s vest thanked its lucky stars it hadn’t been assigned to the Satedan. For the most part, McKay didn’t take too many risks when bullets started flying, which meant the vest was in relatively good shape. But that changed a few months later.
For some reason the vest couldn’t completely figure out, McKay’s team was once again in a situation that happened an inordinately large number of times since their arrival in the Pegaus galaxy… they were under fire. Normally, Rodney would have been doing his best to stay low, and let his team take most of the tactical risks. Laying down suppressive fire (i.e. firing blindly into the mass of those in pursuit) while Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard took a more precision approach to slowing their foes was much more his speed. But today, he and Sheppard had been separated from Ronon and Teyla and he was sticking much closer to his teammate.
Rodney was running full out, evidently concentrating on getting away from those behind them so that he didn’t see the attack coming from in front of them. Sheppard did, though, and McKay’s vest felt long fingers curl over its back collar and yank hard enough to pull Rodney off his feet to land of his back with an audible “oof!”
The colonel started firing into the trees in front of them while Rodney lay on his back staring dazedly up at the cloudless sky as he fought to suck in the breath that had been slammed out of his lung with his fall. Tilting his head back, he could see two more men coming up from behind. From his vantage point, they appeared to be running pretty damn fast considering they were upside down. Looking back at Sheppard, the man obviously had no clue they were there.
“Sheppard,” he wheezed, but he couldn’t be heard over the P90 fire. So, he did the only thing he could think to do; he rolled over and pushed himself up from the grass.
The men coming up behind them actually paused when Rodney stood; apparently they had thought he must have been down from a gunshot from their partners Sheppard was shooting at. But they recovered quicker than Rodney could. Hell, given the way he was struggling to breathe, his vest was honestly amazed that McKay was standing at all. And that’s when the two shots were fired and hit the vest over Rodney’s heart.
Rodney had no sooner straightened on his feet than he was back on the ground. “McKay!” Sheppard yelled, swinging and taking out the two men before they got off another shot.
Holy shit, it had been shot! Sure, that’s what tac vests were there for, what they were made for, but still… those sons of bitches had shot it!
“Rodney?” Sheppard dropped to his knees beside McKay. “Fuck, McKay, answer me!”
“Ow.” Rodney grimaced and just lay staring up at the sky.
“Where are you hit?”
“Chest.” And, seriously, was Sheppard blind? The vest was smoking from the goddamn burn marks. If the colonel had been looking anywhere but at Rodney’s face, he’d see that. But the groan from McKay did have him looking and practically ripping the vest open. As if being shot wasn’t bad enough.
The vest felt Sheppard’s hand slide under it and across Rodney’s chest. “You’re…” He gulped air before sitting back on his haunches. “You’re okay, the vest stopped the bullets.”
You’re welcome, the vest thought dryly when the only thanks it received was Rodney trying to sit. “Well, it damn well better or Jeannie would have one hell of a lawsuit on her hands in my wrongful death.”
“What did you do?” Sheppard asked in wonder.
“What?” McKay rubbed gingerly at the spot beneath the plates of his vest. “I tried to warn you but you couldn’t hear me, so I had to stop them before they shot you.”
“You…” Sheppard opened then closed his mouth, tilting his head as if trying to figure out exactly which emotion he was going to try to control first. “You stepped in front of a bullet meant for me?”
“Two actually,” Rodney pointed out, trying to see his chest.
“You stepped in front of a fucking gun that was pointed at me?”
“Well, apparently, yes.” Rodney’s brow furrowed in confusion at the reaction.
Sheppard looked like he was going to really lay into McKay, but instead he clamped his mouth shut and slapped Rodney’s hand away from its survey of his chest and ordered. “Button that goddamn thing up. We’re not out of here yet.”
McKay ignored him and instead stood and demanded, “What is your problem?”
“You just stay behind me until we get back to the Jumper. Got it?”
“Yes, because that’s where I was when I took a bullet for you,” Rodney snapped back. “No, wait, two bullets. I guess it’s too much to ask for a little gratitude.”
Sheppard grabbed the front of Rodney’s vest and pulled him in so close the vest was rubbing against Sheppard’s own. The two men stared at each other, eyes widened, both breathing hard, each waiting for the other to do… something.
“John…” McKay’s voice cracked on the name, giving it an almost questioning inflection.
The vest could feel Sheppard’s hands trembling where they held it in a white knuckled grip, as if they were fighting to decide if they wanted to push Rodney away or pull him in closer. They finally settled on giving a quick shake and Sheppard stepped back, saying quietly. “I told you to button up.”
This time Rodney did as he was told and his vest could feel his owner’s fingers shaking as much as Sheppard’s had been. They made it back to the Jumper with little resistance and even less talking, and Rodney completely bypassed the locker room back on Atlantis and went straight to his quarters instead. He’d barely had time to take off his pack and slam his holster on his desk before his door opened without a knock.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Colonel, these are my private quarters, not your high school jock-inspired locker room…”
Sheppard ignored him completely, instead shoving into his chest, and all the vest could think was, is the abuse ever going to stop? “Don’t you ever do anything like that again, McKay. Do you hear me? Never!”
“What? So now you have a monopoly on playing hero? You’re trying to tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for me?”
“That is not the point…”
“Oh, really? Then what is the point? Because I’d sure like for you to get to it so I can get on with the more important things in my life like powering the fucking city and detecting the Wraith and improving the shield and… oh, wait! That might save your life and I’m apparently not allowed to play on that playground.”
Sheppard stepped in closer. “You son of a bitch, that’s exactly why you can’t do shit like that. You could have been killed and then who would power the city and detect the Wraith and keep everyone on this expedition safe?”
“Well, you’re part of this expedition, too, Colonel. A very vital part. A part I seem to think is worth keeping around.”
Shoving a finger in Rodney face, Sheppard snapped, “I’m not nearly as important to this expedition as you, Rodney!”
Rodney didn’t flinch at the appendage a few millimeters from his nose. “Maybe not, but you’re sure the fuck important to me!” When Sheppard simply blinked at him in stunned silence, McKay backed down. “I think you should leave, Sheppard.”
The colonel took a breath, as if to continue the fight, then deflated. “What did you mean?”
“Leave? Depart, exit, go elsewhere…”
“No, what did you mean… you know… when you said I was important to… you?”
“To me, the team, the expedition, to all of us.” Rodney looked anywhere except at Sheppard. When the other man just stood there, McKay headed toward the door. “I should go to the infirmary and get checked out. Make sure…”
Sheppard grabbed him by the arm and swung him around. “You didn’t say ‘everyone’, you said ‘me’.”
His vest could feel Rodney’s heart pounding against it as he finally met Sheppard’s eyes. “I said me,” he admitted quietly, before starting into a typical McKay babble. “And it was totally inappropriate but with all the adrenaline, not to mention testosterone, flying around, and I was shot for God’s sake…”
Fortunately, he was cut off by Sheppard tugging him closer and kissing him.
Rodney froze for a few seconds, as if his brain needed the time to process exactly how he’d gone from a screaming match to a make out session in the blink of an eye. When he finally figured out how or just decided screw it, it doesn’t matter, he threw his arm around Sheppard’s neck and pulled in tighter against him. Rodney’s vest was now pressed so close to Sheppard’s that their compartments were being smashed against each other. And if they kept this up much longer, the vest had no doubt that the power bars in its pocket were going to melt. But it ended up that wasn’t going to be a problem because Sheppard had pulled away enough to start unfastening Rodney’s vest. His hands were still shaking, although this time it was from an almost frantic anticipation instead of fear. McKay was working on Sheppard’s vest, as well, trying to unhook it while simultaneously keeping his mouth on some part of Sheppard at any given moment.
When he reached Sheppard’s throat, murmuring, “John,” needfully against his skin before sucking lightly, Sheppard gave up on the vest, gripping Rodney’s hips, instead, and pulling him in tight. McKay dropped his hands to Sheppard’s ass and the colonel let out a small moan against Rodney’s hair. And then they were kissing again and the vest was convinced that it’d be stuck right there in the middle for the whole damn event.
“You want to know the real reason I set up the locker room, McKay?” Sheppard asked as his teeth nipped along Rodney’s jaw. “So I had an excuse to watch you undress.”
“I feel so used,” Rodney mumbled around John’s earlobe.
“Christ!” Sheppard whimpered desperately as his eyes started to rolled back in response.
That’s when they finally decided clothes, and tac vests, were more of a hindrance than the time necessary to remove them, and the vest found itself in a heap at their feet with Sheppard’s vest on top of it. Well, it thought in resignation, I’m back on the floor.
Although, if it was honest with itself, given a choice between hanging by itself on a rack in the locker room and being bundled up with Sheppard’s… John’s… vest on the floor, the floor wasn’t such a bad choice. Besides, considering the noises coming from the bed, it had a feeling it would be to his tactical advantage to make friends with the vest currently weighing it down. It seemed that they were going to be spending a lot of time together from here on out.
The End