Fic: Trust Issues - Part 2 of 2 (McKay/Sheppard, Adult)
Title: Trust Issues
Author: sian1359
Recipient: enviropony
Genre: Slash; Episode AU; Action/Adventure; Angst
Pairing: McShep
Rating: Adults recommended for violence and language
Word Count: ~20,000
Disclaimer: So not mine, although Syfy et al doesn't deserve them anymore.
Thank Yous: to adonnchaid for a very last minute (as in I needed a day's extension) save to my reputation.
( Trust Issues - Part 1 of 2 )
***
Once it became obvious that the... discussion was going to go on for a while, that it was going to be allowed to continue, John gave in to his body's own clamoring and allowed himself to lay back completely. The table, like the room, was too damn cold for it to be truly comfortable, but at least the cold numbed overtaxed muscles, and actually felt good against his aching head. He didn't worry about appearing vulnerable; when he'd said he'd put his and Rodney's fate in O'Neill's hands, that hadn't been hyperbole. John had no doubt he could protect Rodney, keep the two of them alive at least long enough to get them off world somewhere, but just escaping Earth and the Trust wouldn't solve the real problem, namely that damn implant.
In many ways, it might have been better if Rodney had been snaked with a Goa'uld instead of being chained to a piece of faulty tech. The interface had insinuated itself into Rodney's brain stem just as thoroughly as would one of the alien parasites, making it impossible to operate and remove. At least as a Goa'uld, Rodney wouldn't be in constant pain, nor be aware of what his body was doing. Undoubtedly, no Goa'uld, not even Ba'al, would have taken the chance of temporarily relinquishing control over Rodney's brain, not even to taunt or torture him as Ba'al had done with Point Two. Not if they'd ever expected to be able to regain control again.
If somehow Rodney did manage to maintain his sense of self while snaked, he'd then either figure out how to get the parasite removed, or he wouldn't care. In turn, that would mean that John wouldn't care, wouldn't hesitate in pulling the trigger, having already once faced the necessity of killing his best friend and lover, on the desert sands of Afghanistan to release Holland from the deprivations Holland could never have recovered from. Then John would take out all of the fuckers who'd done that to Rodney, including the ones in this room, and -
It took John longer than was prudent to notice that the shouting had stopped, that there were a few whispers coming from somewhere below him, but mostly silence around him. The room was quiet enough now that he could almost make out the words of the SGC teams of scientist and soldiers out beyond, taking inventory and charge of this Trust cache. John forced his eyes open, not too surprised to see he was being watched, only surprised that it was by Vala and Cam, and that neither of them looked quite so outraged any longer. The rest of SG-1 was clustered around O'Neill, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against the nearest wall, thought it looked like Carter was trying to convince him to move to the chair.
Ha, Carter really was as dumb about some things as Rodney claimed, as oblivious or uncaring as to why O'Neill wasn't willing to sit back down where he'd been tortured for hours on end, as she was to why O'Neill was turning to Jackson and Teal'c for the only type of comfort he'd be willing to accept. O'Neill looked done in, looked worse than even John felt, and that more than anything else he had going had to be why John was rising back up, waving off any assistance from his two keepers.
"There should be something here, that can help you with that," John offered to O'Neill. "If you trust me to collect it and use it on you."
O'Neill cracked one eye open and gave him a searching look, then nodded despite Carter's obvious objections.
"I will come with you, John Sheppard," Teal'c offered - commanded - but John didn't care, as he might need some help, if not in walking then in getting the Ancient tech out of its crate and back into the room.
Having an escort of Teal'c stature when he needed to take something away from the giddy scientists was also a good idea, even if the rank and file here didn't know John was one of the bad guys.
"You will find that General O'Neill is reasonable man, John Sheppard."
Oh, god, he'd gotten the chatty Teal'c, the grateful penitent beholden to O'Neill for his freedom and enlightenment. The acolyte preaching to find more converts.
"Not that I don't appreciate the pep talk, big guy, but I'm not here looking for redemption. I know what I've done and can live with it. My motivations are indeed selfish, but they are also honest, as a friend of mine got royally screwed by a bunch of people including a couple of your friends. If it makes you feel better to think of it as me allowing them their own chance at redemption for doing Rodney wrong, fine, but one way or the other, they're going to make good. You can tell O'Neill that I'll step aside if my own clemency isn't on the table, but he'd better kill me outright if he has any intention of promising something and then screwing Rodney again, otherwise I will make him and Carter pay in blood."
When he'd tried to discuss this deviation to the plan with Rodney they hadn't gotten far, as Rodney wouldn't accept what he saw as too much willingness for self sacrifice on John's part. So John had relented, had promised it was either the both of them, or they'd take their chances elsewhere, together. And Rodney had believed him, or had at least stopped arguing when John had. John had stopped arguing, in part because doing so was only causing Rodney more pain, and because he knew he'd eventually catch up to Rodney if O'Neill took care of things, even in the Pegasus Galaxy. Though the ship they had right now would only get them through a gate to another planet here within the Milky Way, that would be enough to give John the opportunity to buy, charm or steal a new one, one that would then take him farther, no matter how many ships, gates, planets or months it ultimately took.
The reality was that Rodney was the only real victim here. And John was entirely too cynical to believe in second chances even if he'd truly thought O'Neill was the kind of man who granted them. Both Teal'c and Vala had been victims too, forced to do things against their will - having their will actually co-opted - but John had made his choices all by himself. And with few regrets. John knew he was a sociopath - hell, so had the Air Force, which is why they'd been so eager to have him at first, when they thought they could direct and control it. John hadn't minded some of those who'd given him direction, the trouble had come then, as now, because of the desire to control.
Teal'c looked disapproving (disappointed?) at John's answer, but not particularly threatening, so given that and Teal'c's statement in the first place, John figured he could put Teal'c on the Vala side of the equation. By performing some Ancient healing on O'Neill, he hoped that would more or less get Jackson on his side, and John knew that Cam really was the Mom-and-apple-pie kind of guy he appeared to be. Knew that even amidst his current anger, Cam was looking for a way to believe that John was still the rookie Cam had trained all those years ago.
Sure, Carter vehemently opposed cooperating with him, yet even she should ultimately capitulate; her sense of guilt had to be stronger than her moral outrage, if not for sending Rodney off to his alleged death, then from being glad about it. As far as Landry was concerned, John wasn't worrying about his opinion. If it came to a throw down between O'Neill and Landry, the SGC rank and file would back O'Neill, no matter Landry's reasoning or objections.
Leaving only O'Neill. Rodney was counting on O'Neill's sense of fair play, while John was putting his money on O'Neill's pragmatism (maybe tempered by Jackson's empathy). Rodney's addition to the Atlantis mission was just as necessary on their side as Rodney's - especially with the expedition's recent loss of the CMO, Ben Kavanagh., due to a series of mistakes that Rodney's genius would have prevented, even if he didn't have the fucking implant. With the implant, hell, even if the head of the expedition, one Elizabeth Weir didn't think she needed Rodney, Atlantis did, which would be the game changer regardless.
As for himself, well, maybe Teal'c was right about O'Neill.
As they finally arrived at the storage area, John automatically started cataloguing the faces he recognized in the recovery teams. A surprising number of them were from the higher ranks according to the Trust's files on the SGC. So many, in fact, that John had to wonder who was left minding the store. Bill Lee was one, along with Simon Coombs. Oh, so was Jay Felger, out from Area 51, and John suddenly wasn't the only one honing in on him; Teal'c time spent as a Jaffa host allowing him to pinpoint the Goa'uld's presence even better than dogs picked up on Terminators.
Felger recognized Teal'c, of course, and John, and knew immediately that he'd been made. Unfortunately he'd maneuvered himself into a position of cataloguing some of the weapons that had been stored here, and the Goa'uld in him didn't succumb to the very human reactions of hesitation and panic. They were lucky, John supposed that Felger was currently inventorying a couple of the Wraith stunners that the Trust had stolen from an Atlantis shipment, instead of the brace of Jaffa staff weapons also somewhere in the room.
Felger's first shot hit Teal'c with a field that even John felt in their close proximity, giving him severe pins and needles along the left side of his body, his left arm becoming leaden and clumsy to use. From what John had read about them, like the zats, the stunners affected a body's somatic nervous system without taking out autonomic system, so the victim's lungs and heart still functioned. It appeared to be true, given Teal's body in John's hands was in essence a manikin, malleable as John lowered it, but completely unresponsive going by the frustration John could read in Teal'c's eyes.
John had caught Teal'c less to keep him from braining himself on one of the scattered crates or the floor, than to check whether Teal'c was carrying. Unfortunately it appeared the answer to that was no, even as Cam and Carter had both worn thigh holsters with 9mms. Again John wasn't sure if he should be insulted that O'Neill and company didn't think he warranted a guard with a gun, to be pleased that at least someone had trusted him enough, or to be worried in their confidence that Teal'c wouldn't have needed a gun to deal with him. For the moment he elected to be pissed, since it meant he didn't have access to a weapon, and Felger was still firing.
Not at him, it turned out, at least not yet. Two of the four marine guards were also down, and maybe one of Felger's fellow scientists, though it was just as likely that Coombs had fainted than been shot. Whereas it seemed that Landry had sent the cream of the crop with regard to his eggheads here, he'd also sent along the bottom of the barrel in respect of the military, or at least the inexperienced ones. None of them had fired back at Felger, caught off guard when one of their own had turned on them, or caught without any covering rules of engagement, and not enough initiative to deal with it on their own. The third guard also fell to Felger's Goa'uld, but at least he'd been providing cover for his buddy, who bugged out of the room. Hopefully to call for reinforcements, but John wasn't counting on it. The rest of SG-1 were also too far away to have heard the altercation.
"Sheppard, do you have a way out?" Felger suddenly shouted.
John couldn't stop the grin from taking over his expression. He patted Teal'c's arm and crab walked away, staying behind the now bountiful cover of the crates; the scientists having acted like children on Christmas in having to peek into them all instead of leaving them orderly to be opened one by one. Felger had seen only that Teal'c had had his grip around John's arm and probably John's bare feet, was now assuming that John had been Teal'c's prisoner with no clue that Teal'c had actually been helping support John in his body's sluggishness after earlier events.
"Yeah, give me a minute," John called back, slowly making his way toward the back wall. His own cache was likely still in the second storage room, with all of its toys (and a backup weapon), but John was actually hoping that his recall device was still here, having been thought of as just one of the randomly spilled pieces of small tech still strewn across the floor from the initial shoot out, as the recover team was looking first to the big things, like the two purloined naquadah generators, the Goa'uld sarcophagus, the pieces of Orlin's makeshift stargate and, of course, all of the alien weapons.
"How many more marines can we be expecting?"
"We came here with twenty, along with fifteen scientists and lab techs," Felger responded.
Four of which had been transported away with Landry, which left twelve still scattered throughout the complex, thirteen counting the one who'd just fled to find a few of the other twelve. No doubt they all had radios, too, which meant they were coming, along with the rest of SG-1, the arrival just dependent on how far away they'd spread. John suspected the X-303 ship that had been overhead had also been redirected by Landry, but he couldn't count on that, or that it wouldn't have been sent back on station after getting Landry back to Cheyenne or wherever he'd determined to make his base as he started his witch hunt. Reinforcements were no doubt imminent if not already on the ground.
"Felger - Jay - what in the blazes are you doing?" Bill Lee suddenly popped his head up from where he'd been checking on Coombs' condition. "Whatever you've picked up, we can help you. Just put the weapon down." Lee rose to his feet then, his arms spread wide and unthreatening.
Oh, great, Lee hadn't seen Felger's Goa'uld eye flash when Felger had spotted Teal'c, was obviously thinking that Felger had picked up a piece of tech that was making him crazy. And that he could talk Felger down.
John had made it across the room to a position behind both scientists, and saw with relief that his recall device was still just laying on the floor, no more than twenty feet away. Unfortunately, he could also see Felger now turning toward Lee, an expression of contempt and sadistic glee taking over before he dropped the stunner and lunged for one of the staff weapons.
Son of a bitch!
Lee, surprisingly, showed a remarkable amount of intelligence - and prudence - losing his deer-in-the-headlights freeze quickly enough to throw himself sideways and down so that the first discharge from the staff weapon hit the crate Lee had been standing in front of instead. The crate side blew apart like wet paper, but nothing inside exploded, instead apparently melting to send colorful ooze flowing outward.
The second discharge exploded against the lower crate, still missing Lee as the staff weapons a bitch to actually aim. Something toxic or at least toxic smelling started to burn this time, proving that aim might not be all that necessary.
"Sheppard!"
If asked, John was fully prepared to say he hesitated, that he seriously considered going for the recall device and leaving, that the only reason he didn't was for Rodney and the salvation of the plan. Because Felger was Goa'uld. All of that was even true, other than the actual hesitation. But the reality was that he was moving instinctively, without that hesitation, solely because John wasn't so far gone from his training or his humanity to countenance senseless murder.
The additional problem with Jaffa staff weapons beyond their accuracy was their recharge rate. The wielder could fire near continuously, only each successive plasma burst dropped off in strength, distance and intensity, exponentially. And Felger, or his Goa'uld really wanted to kill Bill Lee, who was scuttling backward, because he knew about the same limitations.
John wasn't even on Felger's radar. While the Goa'uld clocked the time needed to achieve his goal and tracked Lee's movements, John charged from his own position. He had no idea if Felger had a Goa'uld shield, or whether a Wraith stunner could even affect a Goa'uld, the stunner weapon was nearly as long as a staff weapon, with a very pointy end that pierced host flesh, shield or not.
Felger turned shattered eyes on John. The Goa'uld tried to raise the staff weapon, to bat it feebly at John when he couldn't coordinate his fingers to actually fire it. In the end it spilled from lifeless fingers, as invective, along with a few gouts of blood spilled from Felger's lips. John knew he hadn't killed the Goa'uld, that the parasite could heal his host's body from even this. Not while the stunner still pinned him to the metal container, however.
"This one's not a Ba'al clone," John offered over his shoulder in Lee's direction as the scientist rose on shaky feet. John started to pat down Felger's twitching body to make sure he wasn't holding onto something in a pocket that could come back and bite someone. "You should probably let O'Neill know that before he makes up his mind whether to kill him or keep him for questioning."
John didn't find a ribbon device (though there was one packed away somewhere in this room), nor a personal shield or any other kind of weapon; Felger having long played the part of a harmless scientist after all. What he did find was a pocket full of gemstones and jewelry whose value would make Vala blush, that he in turn pocketed himself. Along with something that looked Asgardian, and another item from Kelowna, if he wasn't mistaken. If he and Rodney were going to have to make their way and future off world, these would provide much better currency than his portion of the Sheppard fortune.
Deciding that discretion was definitely the better part of valor for the moment, now that he could hear pounding boot steps from beyond the room (what had taken them so fucking long?), John headed back toward his recall device. "Let O'Neill know that I'll be in touch."
****
After living in boarding schools, dorms, military bases and then Siberia for most of his life, adjusting to living on a space ship hadn't turned out to be difficult for Rodney McKay. It wasn't like he missed polluted air and the caterwauling of crowds. On board he'd had recycled air that held no pollens or other allergens, food that was always citrus free, and no contact with the idiots that comprised ninety-nine point nine percent of the population. He also had the backdrop of the moon and the Earth out his 'window', which the astrophysicist in him had never tired of.
It had been near perfect.
Only John worried. Not just about the implant and the bounty on Rodney's head by the Trust, but also about the lack of outside contact and Rodney's obvious dependence on John -- both literally and emotionally. Had something ever happened to John, which had been only a matter of time considering what John more or less did for a living...While Rodney could fly the ship too, the only places he'd been able to go for food, for entertainment, for really anything, would have been outside of the solar system. And even then with the coming of the Ori, and the growing power of the Lucien Alliance, it wasn't like Rodney would be safe there either. Safe anywhere else, actually.
Except, maybe, for the Pegasus Galaxy. Where there were only aliens that wanted to eat people; people that wanted to control everything; sentient, homicidal robots with daddy issues; and ninety-nine percent of the inhabitants not only idiots, but idiots living in the equivalent of Earth's Dark Ages - if they were lucky.
Oh, and also Atlantis herself, another sentient machine/city/spaceship, that was apparently now sharing Rodney's brain.
Or at least trying to, trying being the very operative word. If it hadn't been for John and the bits of Ancient tech he kept stealing for Rodney, the little and not so little devices that littered their cozy little Goa'uld Tel'tac and that Rodney always carried on his person - if not for John himself and his strong genetic marker that allowed him to activate all of these Ancient devices - Rodney was pretty sure he have been one of the drooling idiots himself by now. Insane; not that his current level of sanity wasn't already debatable.
So they'd developed 'The Plan.'
At least he still could plan; still had full command of his thoughts, memories and intellect, all contrary to what he'd convinced Svetlana. Which had been his first plan, before he'd found out how unforgiving the Trust was. How scorched earth they were. Except for John, although even now Rodney wasn't fully convinced he hadn't been spared because of John's Ancient gene and the fractured AI in his own head that had called out to his would be assassin.
John had assured him it wasn't that - wasn't only that - and yes, John did have a surprising sense of fair play for a would be assassin. John also had a thing about being given orders, especially the short-sighted or stupid ones, and as it all had proven to be in Rodney's favor, he really shouldn't still be questioning it.
Because he knew how John felt about him now, was shown it every day, and most especially now after John had walked into the Lion's Den for him.
So that meant this was simply nerves, from having to leave his cozy little nest. And having his brain scanned.
Rodney didn't need to be told that everything wasn't completely right up there. His sanity had always been his biggest concern, even before the implant. And after?
Over these last few months, he'd had practically a limitless amount of time and resources to conduct research and experiments, he'd solved unsolvable equations and created entire new branches of science and math, yet he didn't know if it was his own brain or the implant, and he didn't know when all of that was going to be taken from him. The most terrifying thing Rodney had ever seen in a life that included sadistic Goa'uld, mad Russians and homicidal assassins, was that old Twilight Zone episode with Burgess Meredith as the man left alone in the world finally able to read all of the books in existence, only to break the glasses that allowed him to see.
He'd made John promise that if his mind did start to deteriorate or regress ala Flowers for Algernon, that John would take care of things - really take care of him, and although John was pissed, he had promised. Then John suggested they ensure that never happened.
Thus the plan to endear themselves to the SGC so they'd be given the chance of Atlantis.
Like most of John's schemes, things hadn't gone completely to plan. They'd still ended up where they needed to be for the next bit, only slightly worse for the wear on John's part. They were here under Cheyenne Mountain, with O'Neill's promise that they'd be able to leave without being under arrest or hunted for past incidents should the final outcome not go in their favor. And, if nothing else, being here was a hell of an 'I told you so' to one Samantha Carter.
John was nearly as smart - and was much hotter - than she was anyway.
Ignoring the newest arrival into the commissary as he had all of the others, it wasn't until the cup of blue jell-o appeared on the table in front of him that Rodney looked up from the proof he'd been dumbing down. Carter. Rodney wasn't particularly surprised, he knew they'd be talking at some point. He was surprised she'd remembered about the jell-o, though, that she'd cared, as it had been... wow, almost five years.
He started to gather his papers.
"Is that my notes on upgrades to the Mark Two generators?" Carter sounded upset and started to grab for the sheets.
Rodney lifted his chin in challenge and scorn. "My notes on something more like a Mark Four." He let her take them to look over; he'd already intended to offer the proof as one more example of his and John's value. "I've only been able to increase the output by five hundred percent, but I've increased the load capability by nearly eight hundred. It won't power a stargate between galaxies, but I think you'll find a few of them would handle all of Atlantis' other needs except, maybe, the stardrive."
Carter more collapsed into the chair across from him than sat down voluntarily. She looked stunned as well as intrigued. "How did you even find out about the star - These papers -" She looked up at him abruptly. "Jesus, McKay, who else do you guys have here on the inside?"
He smirked. "That's quite an assumption, Colonel. You know what that makes you."
She scowled in return. "Fuck you, McKay. You're not going to convince me this data just came to you in a dream. These are my notes, or were before you started messing with them. And no one outside of Atlantis' command staff, and a very few select people here know that Atlantis was once a starship. If you want any cooperation, you'll give me your source."
"Ah, Samantha, poor Samantha. Still asking the wrong questions and then blaming someone else when the data is wrong. I never said I didn't have a mole," he stopped her explosion with a wave. "All I said was that I didn't have one here."
Her scowl turned outright nasty. "Cut the crap. Felger did not have this information out at Area 51. No one had my upgrade suggestions for the Mark Three outside of -- "
He grinned when he saw that she got it, picking up the jell-o cup and opening it, then taking a bite just as she started again.
"You have someone in Atlantis."
He nodded around his spoon.
"Jesus, McKay. Spill." She just looked sick now. "Please don't tell me we have a Goa'uld on Atlantis."
That concern even made Rodney feel a little ill. If he never met another Goa'uld again...
"Abrams is not a Goa'uld. He's just a desperate idiot pretending to be a scientist. One not just selling secrets, but he's been passing off Brendan Gaul's work as his own ever since Brendan died."
If he had to guess, Rodney really wasn't sure which had surprised Carter more to hear.
"I... how... you... Jesus, McKay," she repeated, falling back in her seat. "We might as well send you out to Atlantis, since it seems you've been following all of the research regardless."
Rodney knew his smile was smug. "Now that's the most intelligent thing I think I've ever heard you say, Samantha."
"God, you are still such a bastard, McKay," Carter growled. "Petty, arrogant -"
"Clever, brilliant...right -" he interrupted her with a huge grin.
"- condescending, insufferable," she talked right back over him. "I came here to say I was sorry to hear what happened to you, you ass."
Not that she was sorry about her part in it, Rodney, noted, but Samantha Carter had her own arrogance and that streak of jealousy/attraction over him that she'd probably always refuse to acknowledge.
"I accept your apology and, before you say you don't believe me -" He held his spoon up in her face to stop her from interrupted again. "Before you say I'm incapable, you can keep those notes if you'd like," he gestured now to the naquadah generator improvements. "My peace offering."
He smirked at her discomfort. To further rag on him now would only highlight her own pettiness, what with him being the bigger man and all. In public, as everyone else in the room had been watching them from the moment Carter had come up to his table. It was also obvious that, despite how hard she was trying to hide it, Carter really wanted to get her hands on his specs. Even if she did suspect he was playing her.
He so was, of course.
"Ah, good... thanks," she finally said, still looking shell-shocked and constipated. "If you're ready," with a gesture toward his nearly finished jell-o, "I'm supposed to take you to the conference room. General O'Neill has received the IOA's decision."
Rodney let his smile fade. "John too?"
He'd never agreed with John's willingness to sacrifice his own future for Rodney's, something he'd made perfectly clear to O'Neill in private after John had brought them in. Neither of them were saints, but then neither was O'Neill - or Carter, Mitchell... Hell, even Landry had been caught with his pants down, stepping out on his wife with someone his own daughter's age back before the divorce.
And, okay, maybe an having an affair with someone half your age wasn't the same as engineering the destruction of a lab belonging to so called allies that resulted in a few deaths, but neither he nor John had blown up a bunch of civilians (accident or not) - or blown up a fucking sun. O'Neill certainly had more deaths on his hands than John had, justified and not, nor had John ever killed someone who hadn't deserved it, or had been unfortunate collateral damage in taking out a significant threat.
"Mister Sheppard is..." she paused and made a face as if she swallowed something bitter. "Cam's bringing him along. Doctor Weir wants to meet the both of you."
Rodney grinned. From all accounts they'd gotten from Abrams directly and from hacking into the SGC's files to read Weir's own reports, she was nobody's push over, but she was also a very practical woman.
After spending half of her life negotiating with terrorists, despots and other such lofty heads of state on Earth on behalf of the UN, Elizabeth Weir had then been hand picked by the US president to take over the SGC when Hammond retired, before turning it over to Landry when she'd accepted the Atlantis post's governorship. Once there she'd stood up to petty dictators, aliens who saw humans as food, and a series of egotistical military commanders, most of whom had tried to impose martial law every time even one of their allies had come through the gate.
Only Elizabeth Weir was not a woman to be marginalized, and Atlantis had stayed under civilian control - under her control despite sieges and IOA inquiries, despite the expedition not yet fulfilling the tasks they been sent for, in finding new technology to send back to Earth to be used in the wars against the Goa'uld and then the Ori.
Since so many of the expedition's problems could be laid at the feet of incompetent scientists and their woeful lack of ATA gene carriers, Rodney just couldn't see her turning down the opportunity for someone of his immense intelligence and experience with Ancient tech, or John, who's affinity in using the Ancient tech might actually be greater than O'Neill's.
"Then 'Lay on, McDuff'." Rodney let his head nod to her graciously as he rose to his feet and offered his arm. "Let's let slip these hounds of war and salve the conscience of your king."
"Total and utter ass," Carter mumbled in return, not taking his hand, but also not jerking away and making a production of her refusal when she gained her own feet and started toward the door.
Rodney make sure his smirk remained bright and mocking as he followed, turning it on all of those who scowled or simply looked puzzled in their direction. While he'd been recognized upon his arrival by soldiers and scientist alike from his time at Area 51 (and the nonsense with Teal'c and then the Abydos crisis), there were many more who didn't, and very, very few who knew why he and John were here. So the scowls were likely from past impressions or from taking their cues from Carter, the rest simple curiosity or hope for an ally against their current failures beyond the gate, and against the depth in which the Trust had compromised them, as rumors were still flying a week after Emerson's arrest, Felger's death and Xiaoyi's removal from the IOA and the Chinese subsequently executing her for treason.
It made Rodney glad to know he wasn't going to be here for the fallout when John eventually told them about Vice President Starke; everyone had been so proud after Kinsey's exposure, when Kinsey had always only been a tool, set up and sacrificed for the resultant relief and back-patting that the rats had been identified, while the real monster moved into place. That piece of knowledge was their final trump card to get them off world somewhere. Forget the SGC and the IOA, the American government would have too many fires to put out for months to worry about an ex-pat Canadian, and his former US Air Force lover.
As was his current wont and habit, Rodney kept his left hand in his jacket pocket, wrapped around a small sphere whose purpose seemed solely to glow, like a child's night light or something. Both he and John thought there was something additionally comforting about it, but couldn't be certain that wasn't just selfish interpretation and not something the globe actually put out along with the light. Interacting with Ancient tech made the implant in Rodney's head quieter, which meant less pain and less distraction, which in turn made both him and John... comforted. The scientist in Rodney wanted to quantify the device, but so far he'd had no contact with someone other than John who had the gene, and John was just as biased has he was.
He was tempted to hand it to O'Neill and ask at his first chance, but no doubt the goons watching after their general would assume it was some kind of bomb. The ones at the initial introduction had already tried to confiscate it, until John pointed out that Carter had just given Rodney something she couldn't figure out, to allegedly check that he was the real McKay and still smarter than she was, that could blow up in their faces should he want it to. Then John disarmed their four man marine escort just to prove the point that he didn't need a bomb to do damage either. While the Gary Mitchell guy and Carter had just shaken their heads in disgust and embarrassment, that alien woman, Vina, had oozed herself all over John. As she'd incidentally prevented any of those goons from shooting John once Mitchell got their weapons back, Rodney had decided not to end her.
Rodney had still pulled John away from her, excusing them to finish packing when they'd actually been packed and ready two days previous, because Vina had been right in how hot John had been doing it.
Because Rodney still wasn't sure some of their mutual attraction wasn't from the implant and that once the two of them were around others with the ATA gene, some of the allure might be diluted. He was a petty man, selfish too, and John was a fantastic lay; generous, fun, experimental...
Rodney wasn't as worried on his own part, since John Sheppard was exactly the type of man he looked for when he wasn't lusting after women like Carter. Nor did he have too many concerns about the Stockholm syndrome or whatever it was called when a victim fell in love with their rescuer. Yes it was a tremendous turn on to find out that the man who'd been sent to kill you decided instead to save you; Rodney loved himself before all others and anyone who was willing to keep him alive was at least someone worth cultivating in one manner or the other. Then there had been the scary competence that John had shown when he'd eliminated Rodney's jailors, and John's willingness to help Rodney with a little bit of payback - the ingenuity John had shown in making a couple of suggestions so that not only had Svetlana and the Russian members of the Trust gotten theirs, but insuring that all of Rodney's research did not stay in the hands of the enemy. And then stealing their fucking spaceship -
In their four months together, John had assured him over and over that his attraction in return was real and had nothing to do with the implant. That he liked getting fucked by men more than he liked fucking women, and that he preferred a good friend and a decent conversation over sex with anybody. Rodney had supposed if any of that was true, it probably all was, since a career military officer wouldn't have had too many non-risky opportunities to fuck or be fucked in special ops warzones. So John might really have been as celibate as he'd implied before his resignation. And afterward, moving in the realm of spies and assassins, Rodney supposed it would be hard to trust anyone enough to have anything other than meaningless sex.
None of that actually explained the two of them, whereas the implant did. Only John had been the one practically rolling over and begging, instead of the way Ancient tech practically whored itself to get John's attention. And when a man like John Sheppard offered himself to you, well, it would take a much better man than Rodney to turn that down.
By the time he and Carter reached her conference room, Rodney was having trouble walking. He wore baggy enough clothing (the better to hide and play with his Ancient devises) that he was confident nothing was showing, and John had already prepped them for the otherwise debilitating pain Rodney experienced when he didn't have his tech on hand. In fact, Carolyn Lamb had found that out for herself when the SGC had insisted on medicals for the both of them and had had Rodney strip away his devices and his clothes. It had only been John's barging into Rodney's private room (gloriously naked saved for a few bandages still himself and not remotely self conscious about it or the stares), that had kept Rodney from screaming and hurting the stupid doctor (not so inadvertently), then the hurried inclusion of one of the doctors from Atlantis that also had the gene, that enabled the tests and scans to get completed.
So Rodney was pretty sure Carter and the others would just chalk up his discomfort and awkwardness to pain instead of a case of accidental (though self inflicted) blue balls.
The nearness of Carson Beckett in the infirmary hadn't aided Rodney all that much, only enough to keep his pulse in the low hundreds and his blood pressure from spiking into another of the mini strokes and seizures that had led the Russians to believe he was worthless. At the time, they passed it off as a reflection of Beckett's gene strength, or more so its lack of strength, and both Beckett and Rodney had been interested in seeing how Rodney and the implant would react to O'Neill. Or Daniel Jackson, who'd died and ascended a couple of times and so was the closest thing to an Ancient they had hanging around Earth, now that the Oma chick and the Orlin kid had been taken out of the picture. John had been curious too, possibly even jealous, which was yet another turn on and somewhat reassuring in someone so otherwise put together and confident. That John's occasional little bouts of jealousy wasn't about possession but instead from his own feelings of self doubt was probably the real reason Rodney could convince himself that at least John thought his feelings for Rodney were real.
John needn't have worried. While Rodney could indeed sense that O'Neill had the gene, like Beckett and the tiny Asian woman sitting alongside the woman he knew was Weir from the Trust's dossier on her, his awareness of them was nothing like he had with John. And of Jackson, he didn't even blip on the implant's radar. Rodney blinked. For a moment he thought that somehow he (the implant) had therefore imprinted on John. But Svetlana had had a reasonably strong expression of the ATA gene herself, and Rodney had been all but her puppet for the first couple of weeks after her people had tried to butcher his brain. If it was simply a matter of imprinting on the first gene carrier - or even the first nice gene carrier - that would have been young Sergei, who hadn't agreed with his superiors methods and had been the first one to figure out Rodney dealt when he was touched by a gene carrier. So not the first, or the first that Rodney hadn't feared, and not the most/biggest/largest or however the voodoo practitioners tried to quantify the strength of a gene. Not the one least regressive? The one with the least amount of garbled alleles?
"Rodney?"
Rodney didn't care why he felt John more, was just glad and comforted a whole lot more than from a stupid glow ball when John was abruptly edging Carter away from him and leading Rodney toward one of the chairs across from Weir. Without thinking about how it might look to anyone, John had his hand across the back of Rodney's neck while they moved, his palm hovering directly over the implant and for the first time since they'd left the protection of their private spaceship, Rodney found himself able to relax.
The reactions around the room were mixed: amused (Vala, Jackson and, huh, Carter's); embarrassed (Beckett, Mitchell and the Asian woman's); bored (O'Neill's); and unreadable (Teal'c and Elizabeth Weir's). The look Weir then gave O'Neill was not, however, and he gave her a nod and an unpleasant smile in return; not pleased, but not unpleased either. More like he was almost laughing at her.
"Come on, kids," O'Neill then directed to, presumably, SG-1, "Liz has a few things to go over with her newest recruits. And I was promised pie before I headed back to Washington."
Rodney feared he wasn't as circumspect in his reaction to that announcement as he should have been, while John simply looked stunned. It made sense, though, that while the decision to allow them on Atlantis would start as O'Neill's, the ultimate authority - and the one who'd have to live with the consequences - was Elizabeth Weir.
"Thank you, Jack," she said with a bit of a thaw in her ice queen poise. "Have a second piece on me."
O'Neill nodded again, then collected his ducklings. Only Jackson looked like he wanted to stay, but then even Rodney had considered a couple of times while in Russia in coming back on his hands and knees to beg for a chance at Atlantis once the word had gotten out. For someone like Jackson, who'd found the damn thing, being constantly denied to be able to even visit had to grate.
Weir turned on them once the door had shut firmly behind O'Neill. "Gentlemen, please rest assured that General O'Neill, and General Landry, have told me all about the two of you. I know all about your propensity to manipulate and arrange people and situations to your liking, your ways with sticks and carrots."
She held up a slim hand to forestall any protests, not that Rodney had figured out what to say, since she was basically right. John had the look that he simply wanted to hear her out, to hear what she was really made of before he weighed in on anything.
"I also believe I understand why you have been driven to acting like this and I am prepared to accept your parole that you will not engage in such behavior while on Atlantis." She let her lips form a rueful smile. "I also realize it will probably be impossible for either of you to actually live up to your parole, but I believe I have found a way to insure your good behavior. One that does not involve exiling or spacing you, as were the generals' suggestions should you act out." Although she was smiling when she said that, her eyes held the steel that had gotten despots the world over to back down.
"Believe me, however, that I will do exactly that, should you actively work again me or the expedition," She promised, then turned her implacable gaze directly on John. "General O'Neill believes that you are sincere in that you've cut your ties to the Trust, Mister Sheppard. In truth, I'm not sure he believes you were ever actually working for them, merely going along with things when their agenda and yours happened to agree. Most of the evidence to make a case against you is speculation and circumstantial, which the SGCis currently prepared to overlook in lieu of the intel you provided about the infiltration by the Trust and Goa'uld. The IOA has decided to classify and sell you as a double agent having been working on their behalf to their own governments."
John looked more spooked than smug at that, once again reaffirming Rodney's belief that John might be amoral with sociopathic tendencies (totally understandable - and forgivable - given who'd raised him), but he wasn't an actual traitor to the Earth or even, much, to his country.
"Doctor McKay." Now Weir turned on him. "Your situation is both easier and harder. Everyone is agreed that your involvement with the Trust was completely involuntary. Most have also agreed that you would be a valuable asset to Atlantis or anywhere within the SGC's purview. It was also unanimously determined that we do not want you working against us any longer, so your insistence that you will only cooperate if Mister Sheppard stays with you does not have to become a threat."
If anything, her expression got even scarier, which distracted Rodney from John's murmured protests and the vicious pinch John executed on Rodney's thigh.
"All that being said, Doctor, everyone has also put forth that it would be untenable to work with you and that I would lose half of my staff should I allow you on Atlantis."
Again she held up a hand, when John's protests turned to be on Rodney's behalf instead of castigating him.
"I do realize that in some it is jealousy talking, Mister Sheppard, that, obviously, the two of you have found your way to an equitable... working relationship."
At her hesitation, just for that moment, there was a crack in her armor to show someone who was a real person instead who only donned her diplomat's mask, someone with a sense of humor or at least of irony. There might also have been a hint of desperation which, normally, Rodney would have been all over, only he and John were between their own rock and a hard place. And this was the woman they would have to answer to... live with since it wasn't like they were going to be able to go home at the end of a work day on Atlantis - or go back to Earth if things didn't work out. No one had said, but it was obvious that this would be a one time thing for him and John, a one-way trip, at least until (if) they proved themselves.
She seemed to realize she had given something away, but instead of stiffening back into her ice queen persona, she actually sat back and let a little of the struggle she was going through show.
"The reality of things, gentlemen, is that we need each other and if you are not willing to become team players, Pegasus will kill you long before one of us has to. I've lost thirty percent of the people who've come to Atlantis, and half of those to hubris and ego, including my first two military commanders, and my current CSO. So here's the deal. I'm giving you two those positions, with all of the inherent responsibilities that entails, not just to the mission and to research, but for the people in those departments under you. The expedition and entire worlds, maybe even Earth, will live or die based on my decision here today, and on our decisions in the future."
She didn't even let them react, just kept on speaking, railroading - no, not railroading exactly, but the pressure was still there, in something that was an appeal to their egos yet also their basic humanity. She was fucking evil.
And fucking brilliant in her own way.
"Rodney, you will have the day to day responsibilities over the projects and scientists. Each division will report to you and you will, in turn, have to justify everything to Doctor Peter Grodin, out of the UK. While he is currently acting as CSO, he is far too valuable to me as my second and if we've learned nothing in our three years out there, redundancy is the name of the game. Doctor Miko Kusanagi here," pointing to the Asian woman seated next to her - who still looked embarrassed, so maybe it was just a cultural thing, "is our expert on Ancient technology, so I would like you to work with her over the next couple of days to figure out what you're going to need to brush up on, and what you might need to bring to your position. General Landry is allowing us first crack on any of the Ancient devices we've just recovered from the Trust, so I expect you'll want to review your inventory of them and maybe let us know if anything's missing that we need to worry about."
She made it sound like she knew exactly how much information John had been siphoning out Rodney's direction. She probably did know about the various items currently in his possession, since Rodney was under no delusion that his clothing hadn't been searched while he'd been poked and prodded in the infirmary. It also appeared she was prepared to overlook certain things, as long as it wasn't going to come back and bite her or the SGC (IOA?) in the ass.
Wow, smart, ruthless and pragmatic. Had she been blonde (and he didn't have John), Rodney could very easily see himself falling a little in love with her.
"Miko and Daniel Jackson have also been working on trying to find out anything on your implant these past couple of days while we waited on the IOA," Elizabeth continued. "I'll leave it to the two of you to continue working on that here and on Atlantis if we don't have answers before we leave. Rest assured, Rodney, we're going to do everything we can to either get that out of you, or find some way of helping you better live with it. I think Carson would like to talk to you about it too. He'd like to talk to the both of you about the implant and about your interaction with it, Mister Sheppard," she corrected with a fond look the medical doctor's way.
"Actually it's now Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth suddenly turned her evil smile John's way. "Lieutenant Colonel only, given your previous parting with the Air Force, but who knows, even Jack O'Neill eventually made it to General. Yes, you've been recalled and reinstated, John," she laughed. "And General O'Neill has specifically asked me to make sure that you check in with him when we're done to receive your silver oak leaves and sign your paperwork."
Once more John looked gob-smacked, as if he'd only heard what she'd said before about them being part of the command staff had really only applied to Rodney.
"The military on Atlantis aren't going to answer to someone who isn't, and fortunately you didn't leave under a dishonorable discharge, so this is our work around. You're replacing three very... inimitable men, John. Colonels Sumner, Caldwell and Everett. Like you and Steven Caldwell, your XO is Air Force, as are a handful of the others, but the bulk of your command will be hard ass marines, who've been through combat situations you can't even imagine. Marshall Sumner was well respected and the men did not take his death well, despite its circumstances. Steven jumped at the chance to transfer his command to the Daedalus after the Sec Nav decided one of his men had to be back in charge of Atlantis' military since the Air Force has not only the X-303 fleet, but command of the SGC. And, unfortunately, Colonel Everett has also recently become a casualty of our struggle in Atlantis, a victim of the Wraith. While he survived, he was aged almost unto death, and a lot of our current crop of Marines came through with him. The fact that they too have become victims, losing yet another round in command brinkmanship, is going to make your job handling them a stone cold bitch. Fortunately, I suspect that part of your... maverickness has come from never being given a challenge you feel you're worthy of, John," she added shrewdly. "Trust me, that won't be a problem on Atlantis."
"Now, with regard to your XO," Elizabeth tossed John one of the few folders she'd had on the table before her, "Major Evan Lorne came with Steven Caldwell, so he's been on Atlantis for two years. Previous to joining us, he was the XO for SG-8. I had actually intended to put him in for taking over command this time instead of getting yet another officer coming in over him, but he asked me not to, and says he is much happier where he is. Rest assured, he can make the big decisions when he has to, and until you and I get a feel for each other, I'm going to want him sitting in on all our mission evaluation sessions, and during the command staff meetings. Assuming we reach a point of trust, you can eventually phase him out although, again, we have found it prudent so far that we have multi-layered involvement, since we've lost almost as many senior staff as we have from the lower ranks and our support people."
It was Rodney's turn again, the rest of the folders being slid across to him.
"Rodney, here are the files on your direct reports. It's my understanding that Paul Abrams has... been recalled, so if you have any suggestions for recruiting a new head of Engineering, please give me a list of names before the morning and I'll see what I can do. We're limited right now against poaching from the SGC, but you had contacts prior to your recruitment here, or even while you were in Russia?"
"Radek Zelenka," Rodney offered without having to even think about it. "He's been part of the Russian stargate program from before we knew they even had their own program. He and Svetlana didn't get along, and she exiled him like Carter did me, only to Minsk instead of Siberia. He's also Czech, not Russian, and is being absolutely wasted by them."
"He, ah, has no ties to the Trust?" Elizabeth tried to ask delicately.
"He'll pass any vetting you can think of. Of course, he's crazy, he raises pigeons. But he's no revolutionary or Marxist, nor member of the Trust," Rodney spelled out under the look she gave him; his last University advisor had perfected that look, too, delighting in forcing Rodney to forever state the obvious.
"Radek might be a closet anarchist, but he's also the best mechanical and systems engineer I've ever met, including Alec Colson. No where near my intelligence, of course, but maybe close to Carter's, and I suspect the reason he has only one doctorate was because of lack of family money, and then because the Russians decided they didn't want to dilute his value to them by becoming multi-disciplined. He probably could qualify for at least a Masters in cybernetics and analytical dynamics just out of his own interests and initiative. After he was reallocated from the Russians' gate experiments, he began working on their answer to the X-303. Which is a lot farther along than any of you probably want to know about," Rodney added as an aside.
Elizabeth took a deep breath at that, then started writing something with a stylus on her PDA. "I'll support you on this, Rodney, but it might be good to have a couple of candidates just in case. Yes, we have enough on the Russians because of your situation to get him out from under them, but it also must be Doctor Zelenka's decision. Not everyone is always keen to go to another galaxy, even now that we have ways of getting back. I am not in the habit of reallocating anyone myself, just because they might have the talent or experience Atlantis needs. The expedition needs commitment, too."
Oh, she was talking in subtext there. Only Rodney couldn't decide if she was accusing him of something or just the Russians, or perhaps she'd been championing him.
Evil, smart, ruthless, pragmatic, pretty, and confusing.
"We were the ones asking to be drafted," John suddenly spoke up, sounding (and looking) like he'd finally gotten his equilibrium back as he pointed out the third option to Elizabeth's subtext.
"You're a pretty good manipulator yourself, Doctor Weir. You and O'Neill have played it almost perfectly."
Elizabeth raised a brow with a grace that put Spock to shame. "Almost?"
John didn't take the bait. "So in favor of detente, in fostering good will and the cooperative spirit, I'll give you the rest of the people involved with the Trust on Atlantis. You've made it sound like I'll have enough trouble with the Marines' loyalty without having to worry about the two who would actively be working against me."
It was Elizabeth's turn to look stunned, and it was all Rodney could do not to laugh at her. The Kinsey effect, all over again; the refusal to first believe that anyone of their people could be traitors, and then the arrogance in assuming it would only ever be one person.
"Yours are a little more problematical," John looked over to Beckett before returning his attention to Elizabeth. "Doctor Keller is basically being bull...dozed. She thinks she's just working with her father's doctor, trying to cure him of some rare, possibly alien genetic disease that she brought back with her on her first trip home. More lately she's been bringing back classified research and the odd and end pieces of tech, all without realizing she's being manipulated by the other doctor, or that her father's actually being poisoned."
Beckett looked suitably shocked and stricken.
As did Elizabeth, though she recovered her neutral mask quickly. "You said are problematical, Colonel Sheppard. So there are more?"
For a moment John hesitated, not to hold her up, Rodney was pretty sure, but from trying out his new rank in his mind. John's leaving the Air Force had never been his own idea.
"You've got three more, that I know of, of course," he then conceded. "My brother was in charge of the SGC infiltration after Simmons was spaced, though, so I think my information is accurate and up to date."
"Your brother?" tiny Micki spoke up, her discomfort obvious despite her heavy Japanese accent.
"Shitsurei shimashita, Doctor Kusanagi," John bowed his head in Kiki's direction. "As you are probably aware, most Westerners do not believe or understand giri, most especially in my family. Some of us are scoundrels, rônin -"
Oh, Rodney recognized that look. And Milla's goddamn response.
"-- and some are honorless bastards who don't even deserve a dog's death."
Now Miki actually giggled, while Beckett grinned and even Elizabeth cracked enough to almost smile. Until she caught sight of Rodney's glare. He still wasn't sure if she'd responded so quickly because of his jealousy, or for falling for John's well-practiced charm.
"None of the last three are in high enough positions to have had access to overly sensitive data," John then continued, turning back to Elizabeth as if he had no idea of what he'd done. "Two of them are also being blackmailed, one in a scheme similar to Doctor Keller's, only the Trust isn't being subtle about their threats to his younger brother, while the second has a drug problem, and had pretty much agreed to do anything to keep his supply coming, especially in those first weeks after contact was restored. As far as the third..." John shrugged. "He's just a stupid, greedy son of a bitch who did his own searching for the Trust; he was not approached and recruited."
John let a hint of the scoundrel back into his expression. "I'll give you their names and those for the two marines as soon as General O'Neill lets Rodney and I out of the Mountain to take care of those little, last minute details that always come up when you're taking an extended trip."
Rodney was pretty sure John knew at least a couple of the names; John was good with stuff like names, along with numbers. In his line of business, being able to identify allies and enemies was often a case of life and death. Conversely, John wouldn't have the evidence against these other Trust foils. And no matter how pragmatic Elizabeth Weir was, Rodney (and John) knew she'd require proof before she cast any of her people out.
Elizabeth still called John on it. "Nice touch, Colonel, keeping a few more things to yourself to ensure one last walk on Earth."
John grinned, taking no offense. "I will always protect my own, Doctor Weir. Isn't that what you're counting on?"
She held John's gaze for a long beat, then finally nodded in concession to his point. "Respect works better when it goes both ways."
John's grin turned incandescent. "I totally agree, Ma'am - Doctor -"
"Elizabeth is fine. Doctor Weir always seems to get buried in paperwork and bureaucrats."
For fuck's sake, John was flirting with her. And Elizabeth was flirting back!
John suddenly squeezed Rodney's knee, as if picking up on what Rodney was thinking. "Leave it to the IOA to make living in another galaxy while fighting for your lives, boring. Doctor Weir sounds pretty tough, as well as stuffy. I think Rodney and I will have to help you avoid that whenever we can, then, Elizabeth."
"I'm looking forward to it, John. Rodney." She extended her hand. "Welcome to the Atlantis expedition.
-- finis --
Author: sian1359
Recipient: enviropony
Genre: Slash; Episode AU; Action/Adventure; Angst
Pairing: McShep
Rating: Adults recommended for violence and language
Word Count: ~20,000
Disclaimer: So not mine, although Syfy et al doesn't deserve them anymore.
Thank Yous: to adonnchaid for a very last minute (as in I needed a day's extension) save to my reputation.
( Trust Issues - Part 1 of 2 )
***
Once it became obvious that the... discussion was going to go on for a while, that it was going to be allowed to continue, John gave in to his body's own clamoring and allowed himself to lay back completely. The table, like the room, was too damn cold for it to be truly comfortable, but at least the cold numbed overtaxed muscles, and actually felt good against his aching head. He didn't worry about appearing vulnerable; when he'd said he'd put his and Rodney's fate in O'Neill's hands, that hadn't been hyperbole. John had no doubt he could protect Rodney, keep the two of them alive at least long enough to get them off world somewhere, but just escaping Earth and the Trust wouldn't solve the real problem, namely that damn implant.
In many ways, it might have been better if Rodney had been snaked with a Goa'uld instead of being chained to a piece of faulty tech. The interface had insinuated itself into Rodney's brain stem just as thoroughly as would one of the alien parasites, making it impossible to operate and remove. At least as a Goa'uld, Rodney wouldn't be in constant pain, nor be aware of what his body was doing. Undoubtedly, no Goa'uld, not even Ba'al, would have taken the chance of temporarily relinquishing control over Rodney's brain, not even to taunt or torture him as Ba'al had done with Point Two. Not if they'd ever expected to be able to regain control again.
If somehow Rodney did manage to maintain his sense of self while snaked, he'd then either figure out how to get the parasite removed, or he wouldn't care. In turn, that would mean that John wouldn't care, wouldn't hesitate in pulling the trigger, having already once faced the necessity of killing his best friend and lover, on the desert sands of Afghanistan to release Holland from the deprivations Holland could never have recovered from. Then John would take out all of the fuckers who'd done that to Rodney, including the ones in this room, and -
It took John longer than was prudent to notice that the shouting had stopped, that there were a few whispers coming from somewhere below him, but mostly silence around him. The room was quiet enough now that he could almost make out the words of the SGC teams of scientist and soldiers out beyond, taking inventory and charge of this Trust cache. John forced his eyes open, not too surprised to see he was being watched, only surprised that it was by Vala and Cam, and that neither of them looked quite so outraged any longer. The rest of SG-1 was clustered around O'Neill, who was sitting on the floor, leaning against the nearest wall, thought it looked like Carter was trying to convince him to move to the chair.
Ha, Carter really was as dumb about some things as Rodney claimed, as oblivious or uncaring as to why O'Neill wasn't willing to sit back down where he'd been tortured for hours on end, as she was to why O'Neill was turning to Jackson and Teal'c for the only type of comfort he'd be willing to accept. O'Neill looked done in, looked worse than even John felt, and that more than anything else he had going had to be why John was rising back up, waving off any assistance from his two keepers.
"There should be something here, that can help you with that," John offered to O'Neill. "If you trust me to collect it and use it on you."
O'Neill cracked one eye open and gave him a searching look, then nodded despite Carter's obvious objections.
"I will come with you, John Sheppard," Teal'c offered - commanded - but John didn't care, as he might need some help, if not in walking then in getting the Ancient tech out of its crate and back into the room.
Having an escort of Teal'c stature when he needed to take something away from the giddy scientists was also a good idea, even if the rank and file here didn't know John was one of the bad guys.
"You will find that General O'Neill is reasonable man, John Sheppard."
Oh, god, he'd gotten the chatty Teal'c, the grateful penitent beholden to O'Neill for his freedom and enlightenment. The acolyte preaching to find more converts.
"Not that I don't appreciate the pep talk, big guy, but I'm not here looking for redemption. I know what I've done and can live with it. My motivations are indeed selfish, but they are also honest, as a friend of mine got royally screwed by a bunch of people including a couple of your friends. If it makes you feel better to think of it as me allowing them their own chance at redemption for doing Rodney wrong, fine, but one way or the other, they're going to make good. You can tell O'Neill that I'll step aside if my own clemency isn't on the table, but he'd better kill me outright if he has any intention of promising something and then screwing Rodney again, otherwise I will make him and Carter pay in blood."
When he'd tried to discuss this deviation to the plan with Rodney they hadn't gotten far, as Rodney wouldn't accept what he saw as too much willingness for self sacrifice on John's part. So John had relented, had promised it was either the both of them, or they'd take their chances elsewhere, together. And Rodney had believed him, or had at least stopped arguing when John had. John had stopped arguing, in part because doing so was only causing Rodney more pain, and because he knew he'd eventually catch up to Rodney if O'Neill took care of things, even in the Pegasus Galaxy. Though the ship they had right now would only get them through a gate to another planet here within the Milky Way, that would be enough to give John the opportunity to buy, charm or steal a new one, one that would then take him farther, no matter how many ships, gates, planets or months it ultimately took.
The reality was that Rodney was the only real victim here. And John was entirely too cynical to believe in second chances even if he'd truly thought O'Neill was the kind of man who granted them. Both Teal'c and Vala had been victims too, forced to do things against their will - having their will actually co-opted - but John had made his choices all by himself. And with few regrets. John knew he was a sociopath - hell, so had the Air Force, which is why they'd been so eager to have him at first, when they thought they could direct and control it. John hadn't minded some of those who'd given him direction, the trouble had come then, as now, because of the desire to control.
Teal'c looked disapproving (disappointed?) at John's answer, but not particularly threatening, so given that and Teal'c's statement in the first place, John figured he could put Teal'c on the Vala side of the equation. By performing some Ancient healing on O'Neill, he hoped that would more or less get Jackson on his side, and John knew that Cam really was the Mom-and-apple-pie kind of guy he appeared to be. Knew that even amidst his current anger, Cam was looking for a way to believe that John was still the rookie Cam had trained all those years ago.
Sure, Carter vehemently opposed cooperating with him, yet even she should ultimately capitulate; her sense of guilt had to be stronger than her moral outrage, if not for sending Rodney off to his alleged death, then from being glad about it. As far as Landry was concerned, John wasn't worrying about his opinion. If it came to a throw down between O'Neill and Landry, the SGC rank and file would back O'Neill, no matter Landry's reasoning or objections.
Leaving only O'Neill. Rodney was counting on O'Neill's sense of fair play, while John was putting his money on O'Neill's pragmatism (maybe tempered by Jackson's empathy). Rodney's addition to the Atlantis mission was just as necessary on their side as Rodney's - especially with the expedition's recent loss of the CMO, Ben Kavanagh., due to a series of mistakes that Rodney's genius would have prevented, even if he didn't have the fucking implant. With the implant, hell, even if the head of the expedition, one Elizabeth Weir didn't think she needed Rodney, Atlantis did, which would be the game changer regardless.
As for himself, well, maybe Teal'c was right about O'Neill.
As they finally arrived at the storage area, John automatically started cataloguing the faces he recognized in the recovery teams. A surprising number of them were from the higher ranks according to the Trust's files on the SGC. So many, in fact, that John had to wonder who was left minding the store. Bill Lee was one, along with Simon Coombs. Oh, so was Jay Felger, out from Area 51, and John suddenly wasn't the only one honing in on him; Teal'c time spent as a Jaffa host allowing him to pinpoint the Goa'uld's presence even better than dogs picked up on Terminators.
Felger recognized Teal'c, of course, and John, and knew immediately that he'd been made. Unfortunately he'd maneuvered himself into a position of cataloguing some of the weapons that had been stored here, and the Goa'uld in him didn't succumb to the very human reactions of hesitation and panic. They were lucky, John supposed that Felger was currently inventorying a couple of the Wraith stunners that the Trust had stolen from an Atlantis shipment, instead of the brace of Jaffa staff weapons also somewhere in the room.
Felger's first shot hit Teal'c with a field that even John felt in their close proximity, giving him severe pins and needles along the left side of his body, his left arm becoming leaden and clumsy to use. From what John had read about them, like the zats, the stunners affected a body's somatic nervous system without taking out autonomic system, so the victim's lungs and heart still functioned. It appeared to be true, given Teal's body in John's hands was in essence a manikin, malleable as John lowered it, but completely unresponsive going by the frustration John could read in Teal'c's eyes.
John had caught Teal'c less to keep him from braining himself on one of the scattered crates or the floor, than to check whether Teal'c was carrying. Unfortunately it appeared the answer to that was no, even as Cam and Carter had both worn thigh holsters with 9mms. Again John wasn't sure if he should be insulted that O'Neill and company didn't think he warranted a guard with a gun, to be pleased that at least someone had trusted him enough, or to be worried in their confidence that Teal'c wouldn't have needed a gun to deal with him. For the moment he elected to be pissed, since it meant he didn't have access to a weapon, and Felger was still firing.
Not at him, it turned out, at least not yet. Two of the four marine guards were also down, and maybe one of Felger's fellow scientists, though it was just as likely that Coombs had fainted than been shot. Whereas it seemed that Landry had sent the cream of the crop with regard to his eggheads here, he'd also sent along the bottom of the barrel in respect of the military, or at least the inexperienced ones. None of them had fired back at Felger, caught off guard when one of their own had turned on them, or caught without any covering rules of engagement, and not enough initiative to deal with it on their own. The third guard also fell to Felger's Goa'uld, but at least he'd been providing cover for his buddy, who bugged out of the room. Hopefully to call for reinforcements, but John wasn't counting on it. The rest of SG-1 were also too far away to have heard the altercation.
"Sheppard, do you have a way out?" Felger suddenly shouted.
John couldn't stop the grin from taking over his expression. He patted Teal'c's arm and crab walked away, staying behind the now bountiful cover of the crates; the scientists having acted like children on Christmas in having to peek into them all instead of leaving them orderly to be opened one by one. Felger had seen only that Teal'c had had his grip around John's arm and probably John's bare feet, was now assuming that John had been Teal'c's prisoner with no clue that Teal'c had actually been helping support John in his body's sluggishness after earlier events.
"Yeah, give me a minute," John called back, slowly making his way toward the back wall. His own cache was likely still in the second storage room, with all of its toys (and a backup weapon), but John was actually hoping that his recall device was still here, having been thought of as just one of the randomly spilled pieces of small tech still strewn across the floor from the initial shoot out, as the recover team was looking first to the big things, like the two purloined naquadah generators, the Goa'uld sarcophagus, the pieces of Orlin's makeshift stargate and, of course, all of the alien weapons.
"How many more marines can we be expecting?"
"We came here with twenty, along with fifteen scientists and lab techs," Felger responded.
Four of which had been transported away with Landry, which left twelve still scattered throughout the complex, thirteen counting the one who'd just fled to find a few of the other twelve. No doubt they all had radios, too, which meant they were coming, along with the rest of SG-1, the arrival just dependent on how far away they'd spread. John suspected the X-303 ship that had been overhead had also been redirected by Landry, but he couldn't count on that, or that it wouldn't have been sent back on station after getting Landry back to Cheyenne or wherever he'd determined to make his base as he started his witch hunt. Reinforcements were no doubt imminent if not already on the ground.
"Felger - Jay - what in the blazes are you doing?" Bill Lee suddenly popped his head up from where he'd been checking on Coombs' condition. "Whatever you've picked up, we can help you. Just put the weapon down." Lee rose to his feet then, his arms spread wide and unthreatening.
Oh, great, Lee hadn't seen Felger's Goa'uld eye flash when Felger had spotted Teal'c, was obviously thinking that Felger had picked up a piece of tech that was making him crazy. And that he could talk Felger down.
John had made it across the room to a position behind both scientists, and saw with relief that his recall device was still just laying on the floor, no more than twenty feet away. Unfortunately, he could also see Felger now turning toward Lee, an expression of contempt and sadistic glee taking over before he dropped the stunner and lunged for one of the staff weapons.
Son of a bitch!
Lee, surprisingly, showed a remarkable amount of intelligence - and prudence - losing his deer-in-the-headlights freeze quickly enough to throw himself sideways and down so that the first discharge from the staff weapon hit the crate Lee had been standing in front of instead. The crate side blew apart like wet paper, but nothing inside exploded, instead apparently melting to send colorful ooze flowing outward.
The second discharge exploded against the lower crate, still missing Lee as the staff weapons a bitch to actually aim. Something toxic or at least toxic smelling started to burn this time, proving that aim might not be all that necessary.
"Sheppard!"
If asked, John was fully prepared to say he hesitated, that he seriously considered going for the recall device and leaving, that the only reason he didn't was for Rodney and the salvation of the plan. Because Felger was Goa'uld. All of that was even true, other than the actual hesitation. But the reality was that he was moving instinctively, without that hesitation, solely because John wasn't so far gone from his training or his humanity to countenance senseless murder.
The additional problem with Jaffa staff weapons beyond their accuracy was their recharge rate. The wielder could fire near continuously, only each successive plasma burst dropped off in strength, distance and intensity, exponentially. And Felger, or his Goa'uld really wanted to kill Bill Lee, who was scuttling backward, because he knew about the same limitations.
John wasn't even on Felger's radar. While the Goa'uld clocked the time needed to achieve his goal and tracked Lee's movements, John charged from his own position. He had no idea if Felger had a Goa'uld shield, or whether a Wraith stunner could even affect a Goa'uld, the stunner weapon was nearly as long as a staff weapon, with a very pointy end that pierced host flesh, shield or not.
Felger turned shattered eyes on John. The Goa'uld tried to raise the staff weapon, to bat it feebly at John when he couldn't coordinate his fingers to actually fire it. In the end it spilled from lifeless fingers, as invective, along with a few gouts of blood spilled from Felger's lips. John knew he hadn't killed the Goa'uld, that the parasite could heal his host's body from even this. Not while the stunner still pinned him to the metal container, however.
"This one's not a Ba'al clone," John offered over his shoulder in Lee's direction as the scientist rose on shaky feet. John started to pat down Felger's twitching body to make sure he wasn't holding onto something in a pocket that could come back and bite someone. "You should probably let O'Neill know that before he makes up his mind whether to kill him or keep him for questioning."
John didn't find a ribbon device (though there was one packed away somewhere in this room), nor a personal shield or any other kind of weapon; Felger having long played the part of a harmless scientist after all. What he did find was a pocket full of gemstones and jewelry whose value would make Vala blush, that he in turn pocketed himself. Along with something that looked Asgardian, and another item from Kelowna, if he wasn't mistaken. If he and Rodney were going to have to make their way and future off world, these would provide much better currency than his portion of the Sheppard fortune.
Deciding that discretion was definitely the better part of valor for the moment, now that he could hear pounding boot steps from beyond the room (what had taken them so fucking long?), John headed back toward his recall device. "Let O'Neill know that I'll be in touch."
****
After living in boarding schools, dorms, military bases and then Siberia for most of his life, adjusting to living on a space ship hadn't turned out to be difficult for Rodney McKay. It wasn't like he missed polluted air and the caterwauling of crowds. On board he'd had recycled air that held no pollens or other allergens, food that was always citrus free, and no contact with the idiots that comprised ninety-nine point nine percent of the population. He also had the backdrop of the moon and the Earth out his 'window', which the astrophysicist in him had never tired of.
It had been near perfect.
Only John worried. Not just about the implant and the bounty on Rodney's head by the Trust, but also about the lack of outside contact and Rodney's obvious dependence on John -- both literally and emotionally. Had something ever happened to John, which had been only a matter of time considering what John more or less did for a living...While Rodney could fly the ship too, the only places he'd been able to go for food, for entertainment, for really anything, would have been outside of the solar system. And even then with the coming of the Ori, and the growing power of the Lucien Alliance, it wasn't like Rodney would be safe there either. Safe anywhere else, actually.
Except, maybe, for the Pegasus Galaxy. Where there were only aliens that wanted to eat people; people that wanted to control everything; sentient, homicidal robots with daddy issues; and ninety-nine percent of the inhabitants not only idiots, but idiots living in the equivalent of Earth's Dark Ages - if they were lucky.
Oh, and also Atlantis herself, another sentient machine/city/spaceship, that was apparently now sharing Rodney's brain.
Or at least trying to, trying being the very operative word. If it hadn't been for John and the bits of Ancient tech he kept stealing for Rodney, the little and not so little devices that littered their cozy little Goa'uld Tel'tac and that Rodney always carried on his person - if not for John himself and his strong genetic marker that allowed him to activate all of these Ancient devices - Rodney was pretty sure he have been one of the drooling idiots himself by now. Insane; not that his current level of sanity wasn't already debatable.
So they'd developed 'The Plan.'
At least he still could plan; still had full command of his thoughts, memories and intellect, all contrary to what he'd convinced Svetlana. Which had been his first plan, before he'd found out how unforgiving the Trust was. How scorched earth they were. Except for John, although even now Rodney wasn't fully convinced he hadn't been spared because of John's Ancient gene and the fractured AI in his own head that had called out to his would be assassin.
John had assured him it wasn't that - wasn't only that - and yes, John did have a surprising sense of fair play for a would be assassin. John also had a thing about being given orders, especially the short-sighted or stupid ones, and as it all had proven to be in Rodney's favor, he really shouldn't still be questioning it.
Because he knew how John felt about him now, was shown it every day, and most especially now after John had walked into the Lion's Den for him.
So that meant this was simply nerves, from having to leave his cozy little nest. And having his brain scanned.
Rodney didn't need to be told that everything wasn't completely right up there. His sanity had always been his biggest concern, even before the implant. And after?
Over these last few months, he'd had practically a limitless amount of time and resources to conduct research and experiments, he'd solved unsolvable equations and created entire new branches of science and math, yet he didn't know if it was his own brain or the implant, and he didn't know when all of that was going to be taken from him. The most terrifying thing Rodney had ever seen in a life that included sadistic Goa'uld, mad Russians and homicidal assassins, was that old Twilight Zone episode with Burgess Meredith as the man left alone in the world finally able to read all of the books in existence, only to break the glasses that allowed him to see.
He'd made John promise that if his mind did start to deteriorate or regress ala Flowers for Algernon, that John would take care of things - really take care of him, and although John was pissed, he had promised. Then John suggested they ensure that never happened.
Thus the plan to endear themselves to the SGC so they'd be given the chance of Atlantis.
Like most of John's schemes, things hadn't gone completely to plan. They'd still ended up where they needed to be for the next bit, only slightly worse for the wear on John's part. They were here under Cheyenne Mountain, with O'Neill's promise that they'd be able to leave without being under arrest or hunted for past incidents should the final outcome not go in their favor. And, if nothing else, being here was a hell of an 'I told you so' to one Samantha Carter.
John was nearly as smart - and was much hotter - than she was anyway.
Ignoring the newest arrival into the commissary as he had all of the others, it wasn't until the cup of blue jell-o appeared on the table in front of him that Rodney looked up from the proof he'd been dumbing down. Carter. Rodney wasn't particularly surprised, he knew they'd be talking at some point. He was surprised she'd remembered about the jell-o, though, that she'd cared, as it had been... wow, almost five years.
He started to gather his papers.
"Is that my notes on upgrades to the Mark Two generators?" Carter sounded upset and started to grab for the sheets.
Rodney lifted his chin in challenge and scorn. "My notes on something more like a Mark Four." He let her take them to look over; he'd already intended to offer the proof as one more example of his and John's value. "I've only been able to increase the output by five hundred percent, but I've increased the load capability by nearly eight hundred. It won't power a stargate between galaxies, but I think you'll find a few of them would handle all of Atlantis' other needs except, maybe, the stardrive."
Carter more collapsed into the chair across from him than sat down voluntarily. She looked stunned as well as intrigued. "How did you even find out about the star - These papers -" She looked up at him abruptly. "Jesus, McKay, who else do you guys have here on the inside?"
He smirked. "That's quite an assumption, Colonel. You know what that makes you."
She scowled in return. "Fuck you, McKay. You're not going to convince me this data just came to you in a dream. These are my notes, or were before you started messing with them. And no one outside of Atlantis' command staff, and a very few select people here know that Atlantis was once a starship. If you want any cooperation, you'll give me your source."
"Ah, Samantha, poor Samantha. Still asking the wrong questions and then blaming someone else when the data is wrong. I never said I didn't have a mole," he stopped her explosion with a wave. "All I said was that I didn't have one here."
Her scowl turned outright nasty. "Cut the crap. Felger did not have this information out at Area 51. No one had my upgrade suggestions for the Mark Three outside of -- "
He grinned when he saw that she got it, picking up the jell-o cup and opening it, then taking a bite just as she started again.
"You have someone in Atlantis."
He nodded around his spoon.
"Jesus, McKay. Spill." She just looked sick now. "Please don't tell me we have a Goa'uld on Atlantis."
That concern even made Rodney feel a little ill. If he never met another Goa'uld again...
"Abrams is not a Goa'uld. He's just a desperate idiot pretending to be a scientist. One not just selling secrets, but he's been passing off Brendan Gaul's work as his own ever since Brendan died."
If he had to guess, Rodney really wasn't sure which had surprised Carter more to hear.
"I... how... you... Jesus, McKay," she repeated, falling back in her seat. "We might as well send you out to Atlantis, since it seems you've been following all of the research regardless."
Rodney knew his smile was smug. "Now that's the most intelligent thing I think I've ever heard you say, Samantha."
"God, you are still such a bastard, McKay," Carter growled. "Petty, arrogant -"
"Clever, brilliant...right -" he interrupted her with a huge grin.
"- condescending, insufferable," she talked right back over him. "I came here to say I was sorry to hear what happened to you, you ass."
Not that she was sorry about her part in it, Rodney, noted, but Samantha Carter had her own arrogance and that streak of jealousy/attraction over him that she'd probably always refuse to acknowledge.
"I accept your apology and, before you say you don't believe me -" He held his spoon up in her face to stop her from interrupted again. "Before you say I'm incapable, you can keep those notes if you'd like," he gestured now to the naquadah generator improvements. "My peace offering."
He smirked at her discomfort. To further rag on him now would only highlight her own pettiness, what with him being the bigger man and all. In public, as everyone else in the room had been watching them from the moment Carter had come up to his table. It was also obvious that, despite how hard she was trying to hide it, Carter really wanted to get her hands on his specs. Even if she did suspect he was playing her.
He so was, of course.
"Ah, good... thanks," she finally said, still looking shell-shocked and constipated. "If you're ready," with a gesture toward his nearly finished jell-o, "I'm supposed to take you to the conference room. General O'Neill has received the IOA's decision."
Rodney let his smile fade. "John too?"
He'd never agreed with John's willingness to sacrifice his own future for Rodney's, something he'd made perfectly clear to O'Neill in private after John had brought them in. Neither of them were saints, but then neither was O'Neill - or Carter, Mitchell... Hell, even Landry had been caught with his pants down, stepping out on his wife with someone his own daughter's age back before the divorce.
And, okay, maybe an having an affair with someone half your age wasn't the same as engineering the destruction of a lab belonging to so called allies that resulted in a few deaths, but neither he nor John had blown up a bunch of civilians (accident or not) - or blown up a fucking sun. O'Neill certainly had more deaths on his hands than John had, justified and not, nor had John ever killed someone who hadn't deserved it, or had been unfortunate collateral damage in taking out a significant threat.
"Mister Sheppard is..." she paused and made a face as if she swallowed something bitter. "Cam's bringing him along. Doctor Weir wants to meet the both of you."
Rodney grinned. From all accounts they'd gotten from Abrams directly and from hacking into the SGC's files to read Weir's own reports, she was nobody's push over, but she was also a very practical woman.
After spending half of her life negotiating with terrorists, despots and other such lofty heads of state on Earth on behalf of the UN, Elizabeth Weir had then been hand picked by the US president to take over the SGC when Hammond retired, before turning it over to Landry when she'd accepted the Atlantis post's governorship. Once there she'd stood up to petty dictators, aliens who saw humans as food, and a series of egotistical military commanders, most of whom had tried to impose martial law every time even one of their allies had come through the gate.
Only Elizabeth Weir was not a woman to be marginalized, and Atlantis had stayed under civilian control - under her control despite sieges and IOA inquiries, despite the expedition not yet fulfilling the tasks they been sent for, in finding new technology to send back to Earth to be used in the wars against the Goa'uld and then the Ori.
Since so many of the expedition's problems could be laid at the feet of incompetent scientists and their woeful lack of ATA gene carriers, Rodney just couldn't see her turning down the opportunity for someone of his immense intelligence and experience with Ancient tech, or John, who's affinity in using the Ancient tech might actually be greater than O'Neill's.
"Then 'Lay on, McDuff'." Rodney let his head nod to her graciously as he rose to his feet and offered his arm. "Let's let slip these hounds of war and salve the conscience of your king."
"Total and utter ass," Carter mumbled in return, not taking his hand, but also not jerking away and making a production of her refusal when she gained her own feet and started toward the door.
Rodney make sure his smirk remained bright and mocking as he followed, turning it on all of those who scowled or simply looked puzzled in their direction. While he'd been recognized upon his arrival by soldiers and scientist alike from his time at Area 51 (and the nonsense with Teal'c and then the Abydos crisis), there were many more who didn't, and very, very few who knew why he and John were here. So the scowls were likely from past impressions or from taking their cues from Carter, the rest simple curiosity or hope for an ally against their current failures beyond the gate, and against the depth in which the Trust had compromised them, as rumors were still flying a week after Emerson's arrest, Felger's death and Xiaoyi's removal from the IOA and the Chinese subsequently executing her for treason.
It made Rodney glad to know he wasn't going to be here for the fallout when John eventually told them about Vice President Starke; everyone had been so proud after Kinsey's exposure, when Kinsey had always only been a tool, set up and sacrificed for the resultant relief and back-patting that the rats had been identified, while the real monster moved into place. That piece of knowledge was their final trump card to get them off world somewhere. Forget the SGC and the IOA, the American government would have too many fires to put out for months to worry about an ex-pat Canadian, and his former US Air Force lover.
As was his current wont and habit, Rodney kept his left hand in his jacket pocket, wrapped around a small sphere whose purpose seemed solely to glow, like a child's night light or something. Both he and John thought there was something additionally comforting about it, but couldn't be certain that wasn't just selfish interpretation and not something the globe actually put out along with the light. Interacting with Ancient tech made the implant in Rodney's head quieter, which meant less pain and less distraction, which in turn made both him and John... comforted. The scientist in Rodney wanted to quantify the device, but so far he'd had no contact with someone other than John who had the gene, and John was just as biased has he was.
He was tempted to hand it to O'Neill and ask at his first chance, but no doubt the goons watching after their general would assume it was some kind of bomb. The ones at the initial introduction had already tried to confiscate it, until John pointed out that Carter had just given Rodney something she couldn't figure out, to allegedly check that he was the real McKay and still smarter than she was, that could blow up in their faces should he want it to. Then John disarmed their four man marine escort just to prove the point that he didn't need a bomb to do damage either. While the Gary Mitchell guy and Carter had just shaken their heads in disgust and embarrassment, that alien woman, Vina, had oozed herself all over John. As she'd incidentally prevented any of those goons from shooting John once Mitchell got their weapons back, Rodney had decided not to end her.
Rodney had still pulled John away from her, excusing them to finish packing when they'd actually been packed and ready two days previous, because Vina had been right in how hot John had been doing it.
Because Rodney still wasn't sure some of their mutual attraction wasn't from the implant and that once the two of them were around others with the ATA gene, some of the allure might be diluted. He was a petty man, selfish too, and John was a fantastic lay; generous, fun, experimental...
Rodney wasn't as worried on his own part, since John Sheppard was exactly the type of man he looked for when he wasn't lusting after women like Carter. Nor did he have too many concerns about the Stockholm syndrome or whatever it was called when a victim fell in love with their rescuer. Yes it was a tremendous turn on to find out that the man who'd been sent to kill you decided instead to save you; Rodney loved himself before all others and anyone who was willing to keep him alive was at least someone worth cultivating in one manner or the other. Then there had been the scary competence that John had shown when he'd eliminated Rodney's jailors, and John's willingness to help Rodney with a little bit of payback - the ingenuity John had shown in making a couple of suggestions so that not only had Svetlana and the Russian members of the Trust gotten theirs, but insuring that all of Rodney's research did not stay in the hands of the enemy. And then stealing their fucking spaceship -
In their four months together, John had assured him over and over that his attraction in return was real and had nothing to do with the implant. That he liked getting fucked by men more than he liked fucking women, and that he preferred a good friend and a decent conversation over sex with anybody. Rodney had supposed if any of that was true, it probably all was, since a career military officer wouldn't have had too many non-risky opportunities to fuck or be fucked in special ops warzones. So John might really have been as celibate as he'd implied before his resignation. And afterward, moving in the realm of spies and assassins, Rodney supposed it would be hard to trust anyone enough to have anything other than meaningless sex.
None of that actually explained the two of them, whereas the implant did. Only John had been the one practically rolling over and begging, instead of the way Ancient tech practically whored itself to get John's attention. And when a man like John Sheppard offered himself to you, well, it would take a much better man than Rodney to turn that down.
By the time he and Carter reached her conference room, Rodney was having trouble walking. He wore baggy enough clothing (the better to hide and play with his Ancient devises) that he was confident nothing was showing, and John had already prepped them for the otherwise debilitating pain Rodney experienced when he didn't have his tech on hand. In fact, Carolyn Lamb had found that out for herself when the SGC had insisted on medicals for the both of them and had had Rodney strip away his devices and his clothes. It had only been John's barging into Rodney's private room (gloriously naked saved for a few bandages still himself and not remotely self conscious about it or the stares), that had kept Rodney from screaming and hurting the stupid doctor (not so inadvertently), then the hurried inclusion of one of the doctors from Atlantis that also had the gene, that enabled the tests and scans to get completed.
So Rodney was pretty sure Carter and the others would just chalk up his discomfort and awkwardness to pain instead of a case of accidental (though self inflicted) blue balls.
The nearness of Carson Beckett in the infirmary hadn't aided Rodney all that much, only enough to keep his pulse in the low hundreds and his blood pressure from spiking into another of the mini strokes and seizures that had led the Russians to believe he was worthless. At the time, they passed it off as a reflection of Beckett's gene strength, or more so its lack of strength, and both Beckett and Rodney had been interested in seeing how Rodney and the implant would react to O'Neill. Or Daniel Jackson, who'd died and ascended a couple of times and so was the closest thing to an Ancient they had hanging around Earth, now that the Oma chick and the Orlin kid had been taken out of the picture. John had been curious too, possibly even jealous, which was yet another turn on and somewhat reassuring in someone so otherwise put together and confident. That John's occasional little bouts of jealousy wasn't about possession but instead from his own feelings of self doubt was probably the real reason Rodney could convince himself that at least John thought his feelings for Rodney were real.
John needn't have worried. While Rodney could indeed sense that O'Neill had the gene, like Beckett and the tiny Asian woman sitting alongside the woman he knew was Weir from the Trust's dossier on her, his awareness of them was nothing like he had with John. And of Jackson, he didn't even blip on the implant's radar. Rodney blinked. For a moment he thought that somehow he (the implant) had therefore imprinted on John. But Svetlana had had a reasonably strong expression of the ATA gene herself, and Rodney had been all but her puppet for the first couple of weeks after her people had tried to butcher his brain. If it was simply a matter of imprinting on the first gene carrier - or even the first nice gene carrier - that would have been young Sergei, who hadn't agreed with his superiors methods and had been the first one to figure out Rodney dealt when he was touched by a gene carrier. So not the first, or the first that Rodney hadn't feared, and not the most/biggest/largest or however the voodoo practitioners tried to quantify the strength of a gene. Not the one least regressive? The one with the least amount of garbled alleles?
"Rodney?"
Rodney didn't care why he felt John more, was just glad and comforted a whole lot more than from a stupid glow ball when John was abruptly edging Carter away from him and leading Rodney toward one of the chairs across from Weir. Without thinking about how it might look to anyone, John had his hand across the back of Rodney's neck while they moved, his palm hovering directly over the implant and for the first time since they'd left the protection of their private spaceship, Rodney found himself able to relax.
The reactions around the room were mixed: amused (Vala, Jackson and, huh, Carter's); embarrassed (Beckett, Mitchell and the Asian woman's); bored (O'Neill's); and unreadable (Teal'c and Elizabeth Weir's). The look Weir then gave O'Neill was not, however, and he gave her a nod and an unpleasant smile in return; not pleased, but not unpleased either. More like he was almost laughing at her.
"Come on, kids," O'Neill then directed to, presumably, SG-1, "Liz has a few things to go over with her newest recruits. And I was promised pie before I headed back to Washington."
Rodney feared he wasn't as circumspect in his reaction to that announcement as he should have been, while John simply looked stunned. It made sense, though, that while the decision to allow them on Atlantis would start as O'Neill's, the ultimate authority - and the one who'd have to live with the consequences - was Elizabeth Weir.
"Thank you, Jack," she said with a bit of a thaw in her ice queen poise. "Have a second piece on me."
O'Neill nodded again, then collected his ducklings. Only Jackson looked like he wanted to stay, but then even Rodney had considered a couple of times while in Russia in coming back on his hands and knees to beg for a chance at Atlantis once the word had gotten out. For someone like Jackson, who'd found the damn thing, being constantly denied to be able to even visit had to grate.
Weir turned on them once the door had shut firmly behind O'Neill. "Gentlemen, please rest assured that General O'Neill, and General Landry, have told me all about the two of you. I know all about your propensity to manipulate and arrange people and situations to your liking, your ways with sticks and carrots."
She held up a slim hand to forestall any protests, not that Rodney had figured out what to say, since she was basically right. John had the look that he simply wanted to hear her out, to hear what she was really made of before he weighed in on anything.
"I also believe I understand why you have been driven to acting like this and I am prepared to accept your parole that you will not engage in such behavior while on Atlantis." She let her lips form a rueful smile. "I also realize it will probably be impossible for either of you to actually live up to your parole, but I believe I have found a way to insure your good behavior. One that does not involve exiling or spacing you, as were the generals' suggestions should you act out." Although she was smiling when she said that, her eyes held the steel that had gotten despots the world over to back down.
"Believe me, however, that I will do exactly that, should you actively work again me or the expedition," She promised, then turned her implacable gaze directly on John. "General O'Neill believes that you are sincere in that you've cut your ties to the Trust, Mister Sheppard. In truth, I'm not sure he believes you were ever actually working for them, merely going along with things when their agenda and yours happened to agree. Most of the evidence to make a case against you is speculation and circumstantial, which the SGCis currently prepared to overlook in lieu of the intel you provided about the infiltration by the Trust and Goa'uld. The IOA has decided to classify and sell you as a double agent having been working on their behalf to their own governments."
John looked more spooked than smug at that, once again reaffirming Rodney's belief that John might be amoral with sociopathic tendencies (totally understandable - and forgivable - given who'd raised him), but he wasn't an actual traitor to the Earth or even, much, to his country.
"Doctor McKay." Now Weir turned on him. "Your situation is both easier and harder. Everyone is agreed that your involvement with the Trust was completely involuntary. Most have also agreed that you would be a valuable asset to Atlantis or anywhere within the SGC's purview. It was also unanimously determined that we do not want you working against us any longer, so your insistence that you will only cooperate if Mister Sheppard stays with you does not have to become a threat."
If anything, her expression got even scarier, which distracted Rodney from John's murmured protests and the vicious pinch John executed on Rodney's thigh.
"All that being said, Doctor, everyone has also put forth that it would be untenable to work with you and that I would lose half of my staff should I allow you on Atlantis."
Again she held up a hand, when John's protests turned to be on Rodney's behalf instead of castigating him.
"I do realize that in some it is jealousy talking, Mister Sheppard, that, obviously, the two of you have found your way to an equitable... working relationship."
At her hesitation, just for that moment, there was a crack in her armor to show someone who was a real person instead who only donned her diplomat's mask, someone with a sense of humor or at least of irony. There might also have been a hint of desperation which, normally, Rodney would have been all over, only he and John were between their own rock and a hard place. And this was the woman they would have to answer to... live with since it wasn't like they were going to be able to go home at the end of a work day on Atlantis - or go back to Earth if things didn't work out. No one had said, but it was obvious that this would be a one time thing for him and John, a one-way trip, at least until (if) they proved themselves.
She seemed to realize she had given something away, but instead of stiffening back into her ice queen persona, she actually sat back and let a little of the struggle she was going through show.
"The reality of things, gentlemen, is that we need each other and if you are not willing to become team players, Pegasus will kill you long before one of us has to. I've lost thirty percent of the people who've come to Atlantis, and half of those to hubris and ego, including my first two military commanders, and my current CSO. So here's the deal. I'm giving you two those positions, with all of the inherent responsibilities that entails, not just to the mission and to research, but for the people in those departments under you. The expedition and entire worlds, maybe even Earth, will live or die based on my decision here today, and on our decisions in the future."
She didn't even let them react, just kept on speaking, railroading - no, not railroading exactly, but the pressure was still there, in something that was an appeal to their egos yet also their basic humanity. She was fucking evil.
And fucking brilliant in her own way.
"Rodney, you will have the day to day responsibilities over the projects and scientists. Each division will report to you and you will, in turn, have to justify everything to Doctor Peter Grodin, out of the UK. While he is currently acting as CSO, he is far too valuable to me as my second and if we've learned nothing in our three years out there, redundancy is the name of the game. Doctor Miko Kusanagi here," pointing to the Asian woman seated next to her - who still looked embarrassed, so maybe it was just a cultural thing, "is our expert on Ancient technology, so I would like you to work with her over the next couple of days to figure out what you're going to need to brush up on, and what you might need to bring to your position. General Landry is allowing us first crack on any of the Ancient devices we've just recovered from the Trust, so I expect you'll want to review your inventory of them and maybe let us know if anything's missing that we need to worry about."
She made it sound like she knew exactly how much information John had been siphoning out Rodney's direction. She probably did know about the various items currently in his possession, since Rodney was under no delusion that his clothing hadn't been searched while he'd been poked and prodded in the infirmary. It also appeared she was prepared to overlook certain things, as long as it wasn't going to come back and bite her or the SGC (IOA?) in the ass.
Wow, smart, ruthless and pragmatic. Had she been blonde (and he didn't have John), Rodney could very easily see himself falling a little in love with her.
"Miko and Daniel Jackson have also been working on trying to find out anything on your implant these past couple of days while we waited on the IOA," Elizabeth continued. "I'll leave it to the two of you to continue working on that here and on Atlantis if we don't have answers before we leave. Rest assured, Rodney, we're going to do everything we can to either get that out of you, or find some way of helping you better live with it. I think Carson would like to talk to you about it too. He'd like to talk to the both of you about the implant and about your interaction with it, Mister Sheppard," she corrected with a fond look the medical doctor's way.
"Actually it's now Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth suddenly turned her evil smile John's way. "Lieutenant Colonel only, given your previous parting with the Air Force, but who knows, even Jack O'Neill eventually made it to General. Yes, you've been recalled and reinstated, John," she laughed. "And General O'Neill has specifically asked me to make sure that you check in with him when we're done to receive your silver oak leaves and sign your paperwork."
Once more John looked gob-smacked, as if he'd only heard what she'd said before about them being part of the command staff had really only applied to Rodney.
"The military on Atlantis aren't going to answer to someone who isn't, and fortunately you didn't leave under a dishonorable discharge, so this is our work around. You're replacing three very... inimitable men, John. Colonels Sumner, Caldwell and Everett. Like you and Steven Caldwell, your XO is Air Force, as are a handful of the others, but the bulk of your command will be hard ass marines, who've been through combat situations you can't even imagine. Marshall Sumner was well respected and the men did not take his death well, despite its circumstances. Steven jumped at the chance to transfer his command to the Daedalus after the Sec Nav decided one of his men had to be back in charge of Atlantis' military since the Air Force has not only the X-303 fleet, but command of the SGC. And, unfortunately, Colonel Everett has also recently become a casualty of our struggle in Atlantis, a victim of the Wraith. While he survived, he was aged almost unto death, and a lot of our current crop of Marines came through with him. The fact that they too have become victims, losing yet another round in command brinkmanship, is going to make your job handling them a stone cold bitch. Fortunately, I suspect that part of your... maverickness has come from never being given a challenge you feel you're worthy of, John," she added shrewdly. "Trust me, that won't be a problem on Atlantis."
"Now, with regard to your XO," Elizabeth tossed John one of the few folders she'd had on the table before her, "Major Evan Lorne came with Steven Caldwell, so he's been on Atlantis for two years. Previous to joining us, he was the XO for SG-8. I had actually intended to put him in for taking over command this time instead of getting yet another officer coming in over him, but he asked me not to, and says he is much happier where he is. Rest assured, he can make the big decisions when he has to, and until you and I get a feel for each other, I'm going to want him sitting in on all our mission evaluation sessions, and during the command staff meetings. Assuming we reach a point of trust, you can eventually phase him out although, again, we have found it prudent so far that we have multi-layered involvement, since we've lost almost as many senior staff as we have from the lower ranks and our support people."
It was Rodney's turn again, the rest of the folders being slid across to him.
"Rodney, here are the files on your direct reports. It's my understanding that Paul Abrams has... been recalled, so if you have any suggestions for recruiting a new head of Engineering, please give me a list of names before the morning and I'll see what I can do. We're limited right now against poaching from the SGC, but you had contacts prior to your recruitment here, or even while you were in Russia?"
"Radek Zelenka," Rodney offered without having to even think about it. "He's been part of the Russian stargate program from before we knew they even had their own program. He and Svetlana didn't get along, and she exiled him like Carter did me, only to Minsk instead of Siberia. He's also Czech, not Russian, and is being absolutely wasted by them."
"He, ah, has no ties to the Trust?" Elizabeth tried to ask delicately.
"He'll pass any vetting you can think of. Of course, he's crazy, he raises pigeons. But he's no revolutionary or Marxist, nor member of the Trust," Rodney spelled out under the look she gave him; his last University advisor had perfected that look, too, delighting in forcing Rodney to forever state the obvious.
"Radek might be a closet anarchist, but he's also the best mechanical and systems engineer I've ever met, including Alec Colson. No where near my intelligence, of course, but maybe close to Carter's, and I suspect the reason he has only one doctorate was because of lack of family money, and then because the Russians decided they didn't want to dilute his value to them by becoming multi-disciplined. He probably could qualify for at least a Masters in cybernetics and analytical dynamics just out of his own interests and initiative. After he was reallocated from the Russians' gate experiments, he began working on their answer to the X-303. Which is a lot farther along than any of you probably want to know about," Rodney added as an aside.
Elizabeth took a deep breath at that, then started writing something with a stylus on her PDA. "I'll support you on this, Rodney, but it might be good to have a couple of candidates just in case. Yes, we have enough on the Russians because of your situation to get him out from under them, but it also must be Doctor Zelenka's decision. Not everyone is always keen to go to another galaxy, even now that we have ways of getting back. I am not in the habit of reallocating anyone myself, just because they might have the talent or experience Atlantis needs. The expedition needs commitment, too."
Oh, she was talking in subtext there. Only Rodney couldn't decide if she was accusing him of something or just the Russians, or perhaps she'd been championing him.
Evil, smart, ruthless, pragmatic, pretty, and confusing.
"We were the ones asking to be drafted," John suddenly spoke up, sounding (and looking) like he'd finally gotten his equilibrium back as he pointed out the third option to Elizabeth's subtext.
"You're a pretty good manipulator yourself, Doctor Weir. You and O'Neill have played it almost perfectly."
Elizabeth raised a brow with a grace that put Spock to shame. "Almost?"
John didn't take the bait. "So in favor of detente, in fostering good will and the cooperative spirit, I'll give you the rest of the people involved with the Trust on Atlantis. You've made it sound like I'll have enough trouble with the Marines' loyalty without having to worry about the two who would actively be working against me."
It was Elizabeth's turn to look stunned, and it was all Rodney could do not to laugh at her. The Kinsey effect, all over again; the refusal to first believe that anyone of their people could be traitors, and then the arrogance in assuming it would only ever be one person.
"Yours are a little more problematical," John looked over to Beckett before returning his attention to Elizabeth. "Doctor Keller is basically being bull...dozed. She thinks she's just working with her father's doctor, trying to cure him of some rare, possibly alien genetic disease that she brought back with her on her first trip home. More lately she's been bringing back classified research and the odd and end pieces of tech, all without realizing she's being manipulated by the other doctor, or that her father's actually being poisoned."
Beckett looked suitably shocked and stricken.
As did Elizabeth, though she recovered her neutral mask quickly. "You said are problematical, Colonel Sheppard. So there are more?"
For a moment John hesitated, not to hold her up, Rodney was pretty sure, but from trying out his new rank in his mind. John's leaving the Air Force had never been his own idea.
"You've got three more, that I know of, of course," he then conceded. "My brother was in charge of the SGC infiltration after Simmons was spaced, though, so I think my information is accurate and up to date."
"Your brother?" tiny Micki spoke up, her discomfort obvious despite her heavy Japanese accent.
"Shitsurei shimashita, Doctor Kusanagi," John bowed his head in Kiki's direction. "As you are probably aware, most Westerners do not believe or understand giri, most especially in my family. Some of us are scoundrels, rônin -"
Oh, Rodney recognized that look. And Milla's goddamn response.
"-- and some are honorless bastards who don't even deserve a dog's death."
Now Miki actually giggled, while Beckett grinned and even Elizabeth cracked enough to almost smile. Until she caught sight of Rodney's glare. He still wasn't sure if she'd responded so quickly because of his jealousy, or for falling for John's well-practiced charm.
"None of the last three are in high enough positions to have had access to overly sensitive data," John then continued, turning back to Elizabeth as if he had no idea of what he'd done. "Two of them are also being blackmailed, one in a scheme similar to Doctor Keller's, only the Trust isn't being subtle about their threats to his younger brother, while the second has a drug problem, and had pretty much agreed to do anything to keep his supply coming, especially in those first weeks after contact was restored. As far as the third..." John shrugged. "He's just a stupid, greedy son of a bitch who did his own searching for the Trust; he was not approached and recruited."
John let a hint of the scoundrel back into his expression. "I'll give you their names and those for the two marines as soon as General O'Neill lets Rodney and I out of the Mountain to take care of those little, last minute details that always come up when you're taking an extended trip."
Rodney was pretty sure John knew at least a couple of the names; John was good with stuff like names, along with numbers. In his line of business, being able to identify allies and enemies was often a case of life and death. Conversely, John wouldn't have the evidence against these other Trust foils. And no matter how pragmatic Elizabeth Weir was, Rodney (and John) knew she'd require proof before she cast any of her people out.
Elizabeth still called John on it. "Nice touch, Colonel, keeping a few more things to yourself to ensure one last walk on Earth."
John grinned, taking no offense. "I will always protect my own, Doctor Weir. Isn't that what you're counting on?"
She held John's gaze for a long beat, then finally nodded in concession to his point. "Respect works better when it goes both ways."
John's grin turned incandescent. "I totally agree, Ma'am - Doctor -"
"Elizabeth is fine. Doctor Weir always seems to get buried in paperwork and bureaucrats."
For fuck's sake, John was flirting with her. And Elizabeth was flirting back!
John suddenly squeezed Rodney's knee, as if picking up on what Rodney was thinking. "Leave it to the IOA to make living in another galaxy while fighting for your lives, boring. Doctor Weir sounds pretty tough, as well as stuffy. I think Rodney and I will have to help you avoid that whenever we can, then, Elizabeth."
"I'm looking forward to it, John. Rodney." She extended her hand. "Welcome to the Atlantis expedition.
-- finis --