Fic: Get By With A Little Help [1/2] (McKay/Sheppard, Lorne/Zelenka, R)
Title: Get By With A Little Help
Author: skitz_phenom
Recipient: taste_is_sweet
Pairing: John/Rodney (minor Lorne/Zelenka, other canon and non-canon pairings mentioned briefly)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and any and all related materials are not mine. Don't own 'em... just playing with them. I'll put them all back just the way I found them when I'm done.
Author's Notes: Several 'hopes' for this story: taste_is_sweet I hope this makes you smile. I hope it's not too obvious that this is my first foray into writing SGA and McShep. I also hope that there's nothing in this that's too overtly similar to anything else that's been written. Listening to McShep podfic has been my sanity-saver these past few months, so I worry I may have subconsciously absorbed stuff. Oh and, due to the fact that I just started a new job this week, and scrambling to get the last couple thousand words written has been difficult, this did not get finished in time for a beta. I hope that's not too obvious.
Summary: An accident at an Ancient Laboratory manages to trap several Atlantis personnel and expose them to a mildly mind-altering substance, leaving John and Rodney to keep an eye on the them during their ordeal. Munchies are experienced, much giggling ensues and truths are revealed.
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"You know, if you're going to gloat, Rodney, I'm going to make you sit in the back of the jumper with the bulkhead door closed." John turned slightly and raised a hand to wag a finger at him. "No laughing, either."
Rodney made a noise that was suspiciously snicker-like, but turned it into a cough when John glared at him. "I just felt the need to point out that I... was... ri-i-ght." He practically sing-songed the last word.
John grumped and slouched deeper into the pilot's seat. "Hey, you can't blame me for thinking the way I did. I haven't exactly had the best luck with dinosaurs since we've been in Pegasus."
"I'll give you that," Rodney conceded, far too easily in John's opinion. "But, you don't have to worry your pretty little head about the big scary monsters." And yeah, that was more like it.
Just for fun, he jerked hard on the flight controls of the Puddlejumper and took them into a endless barrel roll. The inertial dampeners meant that they really didn't feel it, but John knew that just the view out the front window was enough to mess with Rodney's equilibrium.
"Sheppard!" Rodney squawked.
John straightened them out, and gave a sideways smirk to the other man. "What was that about my pretty head, McKay?"
Rodney just glowered.
Oops. He'd kind of broken the unspoken rules of their particular brand of give and take. When Rodney went into silent-mode it meant that he'd escalated to physical retaliation far too soon.
"Hey," he finally offered a few minutes later, "you said they were mammals not reptiles, right?" Rodney reluctantly nodded. "We should tell Ronon about those things. I bet he'd love to try to hunt one." It was, in terms of their banter, a peace offering. Well, in the sense that deflecting their mocking to someone else on the team (especially when that particular someone wasn't there to defend himself through judicious use of physical retaliation) could be considered a peace offering.
"Oh god, that's all we'd need." And yep, that was the right thing to say to get them back on an even keel. "Can you just imagine? He'd probably want to go after it with like, just one knife." Rodney's hands flailed rather descriptively in front of him, and John kept one eye on the heads-up display and one on Rodney. Rodney could be very theatrical with his gesticulation. "Or wait, better yet: bare-handed."
"He'd probably manage." John shrugged. Sure the things had looked about the size of elephants, but they had scrawny giraffe necks, they moved pretty slow, and John was fairly certain those spikes were ornamental.
"You're probably right. Of course, then he'd want to keep its head as a trophy." Rodney mock shuddered. "And that's just what we'd need whenever we do team-night in Ronon's room. Another set of lifeless eyes staring at us."
John had to agree. They'd let him keep the head and pelt of some kind of bear-cougar-lizard beast from M5S-484 that he'd taken down completely unarmed to win them trading rights, and it was pretty creepy the way the thing's glass eyes seemed to follow you around the room. At least he'd talked Ronon into keeping it in his quarters. After he'd killed the damn thing, he'd wanted to display his trophy in the gate room. "Hey, maybe it would barbecue nice? Be some big ol' steaks from that thing."
Rodney perked up a little at that suggestion. "Hrm, you think so? I mean, that six-legged lizard he killed on L64-671 turned out to be pretty tasty, but then again, those birds on ..." He broke off as their comm activated.
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis, come in please."
"Sheppard, here."
"Ah, Colonel." That was Woolsey. "How goes the scouting?"
"Nothing too interesting to report. We've covered a good fifty square miles around the research station and aside from some indigenous animal life," he stifled a laugh as Rodney coughed into his fist something that sounded suspiciously like 'barney...dinosaur', "we're getting no life-sign readings, or any other energy readings besides those from the Ancient outpost."
"That's good to hear, Colonel."
"Have Ronon and Teyla checked in yet?" he asked.
"Did Carson figure out anything more interesting about the purpose of the lab yet?" Rodney added.
"Actually, that's why I contacted you. Teyla and Ronon missed their scheduled check-in. They're only twenty minutes over-due, but I haven't heard from Colonel Lorne's team either." Woolsey didn't sound too concerned yet, merely cautious. John and Rodney exchanged matching frowns. Twenty minutes past check-in wasn't too much to be alarmed about but they'd left Teyla and Ronon with Lorne's team and Doctor Beckett investigating an Ancient lab; and he'd learned long ago that anything involving the Ancients was a potential disaster waiting to explode in their faces.
"Understood, sir. We're on our way back to the lab right now. We'll dial in as soon as we've got more intel."
"That sounds good, Colonel. Atlantis out."
John looked over at Rodney again as the comm went silent. "How sure were you that that was a medical facility?"
Rodney already had his computer up and was scanning through data. "Positive." There was no room for doubt in his voice. "And we also ensured there weren't doing any kind of work with nanites or nano-technology or bioweapons research. From all indications, they were using the facility to do research on the local flora for preventive and curative medicinal applications."
John nodded and pushed a little more speed out of the jumper. He was about to try to reach Teyla on the radio when the comm crackled to life again.
"Colonel Sheppard? This is Sergeant Meacham, do you copy?"
"Sheppard, here." John replied immediately, "Go ahead, Sergeant."
"Sir, there's been a bit of an incident at the lab. I think you and Doctor McKay should return here as quickly as possible."
"We're already on our way." He glanced at the display. "ETA is four minutes. Meacham, any injuries?"
There was a lengthy pause. "Uh, no, Sir. Not really."
"Not really?" Rodney blurted. "I think that's a pretty easy yes or no question, Sergeant."
John shot Rodney a look, which silenced him, though he couldn't help but agree. "Can you clarify that, Sergeant?"
"Well, Sir. It seems that the team inside the lab have been exposed to some kind of chemical or substance. Before he broke off radio contact, Doctor Beckett assured us that it wasn't harmful and that everyone was fine. He didn't sound too concerned, Sir. But the lab went into some kind of lock-down mode and we can't get in beyond that first chamber, which is all but powered down. The lab itself is sealed and Doctor Beckett hasn't responded since."
Rodney snorted derisively. "Not harmful? Why would the place go into quarantine mode if whatever they were exposed to wasn't harmful?"
John lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and then addressed the comm again. "Who's all stuck inside the lab, Sergeant?"
"Everyone but myself and Corporal Hendersen, Sir."
"Alright, Sergeant. You take Hendersen and head back to the gate. Report the situation to Atlantis and tell them we've got a quarantine situation, and that we'll need the HAZMAT suits."
"Yes, Sir."
"Sheppard, out." He tabbed off the comm and then turned to look at Rodney. "Does it seem just a little weird to you that Beckett didn't sound concerned about being stuck in an Ancient Lab, off-world, with some unknown chemical leak?"
Rodney pretended to think about it. "Hrmm, in the Pegasus scheme of things, I think that falls somewhere short of life-sucking vampire aliens on the weirdness scale, but definitely above plants that hum when you water them. " John nodded agreeably. It was a fair assessment. He'd liked those plants though. He had one in his room for a while before the botanists insisted they return it to the greenhouse since he 'couldn't be trusted to look after it properly.' It was possible he had over-watered it.
They both went silent when the lab finally came into sight and John busied himself with landing the jumper. Fortunately since it was an Ancient facility, it was fully equipped for dealing with the Puddlejumpers and had a landing platform just a few yards away from the entrance. Just to be on the safe side, he engaged the cloak as soon as he and Rodney headed out.
The door to the antechamber opened immediately when John waved his hand in front of the controls, and when they got inside the room was dim and the central control console that had been active earlier in the day was gone dark. He tried the door that led to the first chamber of the lab, but it wouldn't respond. "Rodney, can we get communication into that room?"
Rodney had already interfaced his laptop with the lab's console and was typing away. "I'm working on it. Seems like this quarantine protocol diverts power from the station out here, and routes it directly to the labs." He dropped to floor, pulled open a panel below the console, and switched a few crystals, then was back up in the chair, pushing buttons. "There," he said triumphantly after only a few moments, and lights flickered on with a hum while the whole station powered up. "We should have internal comms back online. I'll see what I can do to get a visual inside the room." He went back to his frantic typing.
John tapped the intercom panel Rodney had indicated. "Ronon, Teyla? This is Sheppard, come in." There was no response, so he tried again. "Teyla, this is Sheppard, please respond."
"Colonel," Teyla's voice finally responded through the speaker. "It's so good to hear from you." He fought the urge to do a double take, because Teyla's voice sounded weird. It was all slow, and drawling. Kinda sexy actually.
"What's wrong with her?" Rodney hissed, placing his hand over the mic. "She doesn't sound normal. She sounds a-lot like you, in fact."
John ignored that and pushed Rodney's hand away. "It's good to hear from you too, Teyla. Want to tell me what's going on? Sergeant Meacham said there'd been some kind of a chemical spill?"
"Oh, it's alright, John." He looked at Rodney, whose eyes went wide as he mouthed 'John'. "We're absolutely fin..." She broke off with a high-pitched squeal.
"Teyla!" John shouted, panic zinging through him. "Teyla, what's happening? Teyla, answer me, dammit!"
A strange scuffling sort of sound came over the radio for a moment and then Teyla's voice was back. "Apologies, John. Ronon wanted to talk but I would not let him, so he tickled me. He is a much more skilled tickler than I would have given him credit for." She giggled. John looked at Rodney again, whose blue eyes were still almost comically wide and the slant of his mouth slack with disbelief, and knew that poleaxed expression was probably mirrored on his own face.
"Uh, Teyla," he said very slowly and deliberately, "is Doctor Beckett there with you?"
"Of course, John. He is right here." Her voice quieted, as if she'd moved away from the radio for a moment. "Carson," he heard her call out in a very melodious way. "Carson, it's John. He wants to talk to you. No, Evan, please do not let Ronon get up... he will tickle me again." There were more scuffling sounds, and quite a bit of laughing in several masculine pitches along with Teyla's high, feminine one.
A moment later, Beckett came through with a very loud and hearty, "Hullo, Colonel!"
"Uh, hey, Doc."
"Is Rodney there with you?"
"I'm right here, Carson," Rodney said, leaning close to the mic.
"Rodney, lad!" And damn him if Carson didn't sound like he was thrilled to death at hearing McKay's voice. "How are ye?" His accent made the words almost unintelligible. The only time John had ever heard Beckett's brogue so thick was when they'd all been drinking, heavily.
"I'm fine, Carson." Rodney replied in the same patient and careful tone John had used a moment ago.
"Can you tell me what's going on? What you were exposed too?"
"Oh, it's nothin' tae worry about, lad. Just a wee bit 'o laughing gas." He hiccupped, and then someone else in the room said something unintelligible that had a chorus of laughter echoing through the speaker.
"Carson? Carson, stay with me here."
"I'm here, Rodney. I'm not going anywhere, lad. I cannae, all the doors are locked!" He burst into another fit of giggles.
"What do you mean by laughing gas, Carson. I need you to be more specific. Please." He covered the mic again and looked up at John, an utterly disgruntled expression on his face. "It's like talking to three-year-olds," he whispered vehemently. "I swear, Madison on a sugar binge is easier to talk to than this."
"Oh, it's a marvelous little component, Rodney," Carson cooed. "I did what can best be described as a high protein thin layer chromatography of its phytochemical constituents. It contains a phenolic alcohol that quite resembles tetrahydrocannabinol in its make-up. And somehow the Ancients have managed to aerosolize it."
Rodney tapped the comm button off and frowned up at John. "That's THC."
"You mean, like in weed?" Rodney nodded. "You're telling me they're stoned?" Rodney nodded again.
"It sure seems that way." He thumbed the comm again. "Carson, you said it's not dangerous, right?"
"Och, no. It's pear-fectly harmless. I think the ancients were using it to treat a number of chronic pain and degenerative ocular conditions from wha' I can tell."
"Well then why did its release trigger the quarantine?"
Carson giggled again. "Ohh, that. That was all Major Lorne's fault."
"Lieutenant Colonel," several voices could be heard calling out in tandem to correct him.
"Aye, Lieutenant Colonel Lorne. Ah'm never gonna get that right." A heavy breath gusted into the speaker, as if he were sighing, or just exhaling right over the microphone. "Ennaway, as I was saying, Colonel Lorne did it."
John fought the urge to put a hand in his hair and just tug in frustration. "What did Colonel Lorne do, Carson?" he asked.
"Colonel Sheppard?" That was Lorne's voice. "This is Colonel Lorne, Colonel..." And oh god, now Lorne was sniggering.
"Lorne," John growled.
"Sorry, Colonel." Lorne snickered again. From the background John heard Teyla helpfully offer, "Perhaps you should just call him John." and then Lorne was back, saying, "Right, Colonel John, Sir."
And that was about enough to shred the rest of John's patience. "Lorne, tell me what the hell happened," he snapped.
Something of the command in his tone must've come through, because Lorne sounded a fraction more under control when he replied. "Well, Doctor Beckett showed me the override controls for the containment system earlier, and when the leak happened, I thought it best to activate them. I think that I was supposed to wait until we were out of the room..."
Rodney cut him off and shooed John away from the comm. "Lorne, is Zelenka in there with you?"
"Yeah," Lorne drawled. "He's right here, Doc." There were more shuffling noises, and what distinctly sounded like an ass slap.
"Zelenka," Rodney snapped out, "what can you tell me about the containment system?"
"Rodney, my friend." And damn, Zelenka sounded as gone as everyone else. "Is good to hear your voice. We were just speaking of you. Bylo to dobré , přísahám."
"Yes, yes," Rodney barked again. "I'm your very best friend. Can we skip the pleasantries and get onto the diagnostic?"
John listened as Zelenka babbled at length about circuits and couplers and rerouting power - at least that's what John assumed he was talking about, he really wasn't paying attention, plus half of it was in Czech - and he gave Rodney a hand-rolling, 'get on with it' gesture. Rodney nodded. "Zelenka, listen. Zelenka..." he tried to cut in, but the other scientist was really on a roll, "Radek!"
The comm went silent for a moment. "Yes, Rodney?" Geez, Zelenka sounded sulky. John almost felt bad for Rodney sniping at him.
"What's the containment protocol for this particular substance? How long is it in effect?"
"Ummm," Radek was silent again, but over the increasingly juvenile background noises, they could hear the sounds of keys clicking. "Sixteen hours, approximately."
Rodney heaved a sigh. "Finally. Thank you, Radek."
"You're very welcome, Rodney. Is a shame you can not come in to join us. Máme se skvěle baví!"
John smiled as Rodney rolled his eyes so hard his head moved in a slight rotation with them. "Yes, it's a big shame. Now, why don't you join the others for a few minutes and be quiet while Colonel Sheppard and I talk." He looked up at John and just shook his head. "So." He said conversationally a moment later.
"So," John echoed.
"Sew buttons!" someone (disturbingly John thought it might have been Lorne) called into the comm, to a riotous chorus of laughter.
Rodney flicked off the comm with an aggrieved sigh. "That's enough of that."
"So," John repeated slowly, holding up placating hands at Rodney's sudden glower. "I was just gonna ask what we do now?"
Rodney un-bristled. "Well, if what Zelenka says is correct, the system has various protocols in place for each of the different substances that were being tested and synthesized here. Normally this protocol is triggered after everyone has evacuated the lab, but I'm guessing Carson wasn't clear on this when he explained the safety systems to Colonel Lorne. Either that or he'd already been affected by the exposure and wasn't thinking clearly. He triggered the protocol too early and it locked them down inside the lab, instead of outside." John was going to have a serious talk with Lorne about doing anything in an ancient lab without clear instruction from the science member on his team. "This particular component seems to require a sixteen point eight hour quarantine of all systems. I suspect that once the drug is considered sufficiently diluted by the lab's air purifiers, the lockdown will cancel itself out."
"Are you saying that they're all going to be high for the next," he glanced at his watch. Had it only been twelve minutes since they landed? It felt like hours already, "oh, fifteen or so hours?"
"Well, I'd imagine the effects won't last quite that long. The leak has been contained and I'm sure the concentration has already lessened considerably since the first exposure. But, the bodies' absorption rate is going to differ for each individual, and I also suspect that this stuff is a bit more potent that plain old Earth marijuana." He shrugged. "I'm not a botanist, so I really don't know. But if you give me a little bit of time, I can confirm Zelenka's findings about the protocol in the data center out here.
John nodded. "Sure, why don't you get started on that. I'll get back in touch with Meacham and Hendersen and send them back to Atlantis. As long as no one's in any danger, I think the best thing to do is just wait this out."
"We're on babysitting duty, you mean."
"Yep." John nodded again.
He left Rodney working at the console and his laptop, grumbling under his breath all the while, and headed out to the Jumper to radio the marines. Apparently they'd worked pretty fast to get the hazmat suits prepped and through the gate, and sounded a bit disgruntled when John told them to head on back to Atlantis without them. He understood that they didn't want to leave their team leader and Zelenka their interim scientist behind, but John had a feeling that things could get... uncomfortable. He'd spent a few weekends during his college years stoned off his ass, and had some bleary, and definitely embarrassing memories of that time. The fewer witnesses, he decided, the better.
Once he got all of that settled, he gathered up the packs, bedrolls and some other supplies from the jumper and headed back into the complex. He stacked everything in a corner, secured the door and by the time he rejoined Rodney, there were three different display panels in front of him, each showing the interior of one of three different rooms that made up the lab. "We've got visual, I see."
"Yep," Rodney needlessly confirmed. "And audio with it. We'll still need to activate the comm if we want to communicate directly, but we can keep an eye on things from here." He waved John over and pointed to his laptop screen, where there was a whole lot of data that John's eyes kind of glazed over at. Rodney would explain it anyway. "I was also able to confirm that Zelenka, despite being as high as a kite, was right about the quarantine period. If it were absolutely necessary to get in there, I could rig an override, but I'd rather not risk it. There were several other substances the Ancients were working with at this facility and an override on the quarantine system could cause power fluctuations in those containment units, and I can only assume anything still in containment here would be viable, just like the stuff our high-flying friends were exposed to. The happy bunch in there can just sleep it off."
"What about supplies? They have enough food and water?" He didn't see their packs in this room, so assumed they were inside the lab.
"Yeah. They've all got canteens and field rations for two days. Although, I suspect that they're going to run out of food sooner than later."
"Why's that?" He actually wondered for a moment if there was something about the drug that would have a weird kind of effect on their metabolism, before he caught on. "Oh, the munchies."
Rodney chuckled. "Yeah. You missed it a few minutes ago. Ronon must have a stash of chocolate bars on him, because he pulled one out of his vest and Teyla just tackled him!" He sounded rather awed by the whole thing. "Took him right out at the knees and wrestled it out of his hands. Of course, being Teyla, once she had it she shared it with everyone."
John smiled and shook his head, then asked in his most unassuming voice. "I uh, don't suppose there's any way to record the video feed?"
Rodney's brows drew in and his mouth thinned into a frown. "Sheppard."
John ducked his chin, feeling just a little bit guilty, then caught just the barest, there and gone flash of guilt on Rodney's face. "You're already recording it, aren't' you?" When Rodney's cheeks flushed almost immediately, John crowed, "Ha! I knew it."
"What? I've needed blackmail material on Zelenka for a while now. He's been holding that damn self-recording Birthday card I gave to Madison over my head for months now! Sneaky Czech bastard. I should never have recorded myself singing to her while I was in the lab. Not my fault the acoustics are good in there."
John just clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's get our gear set-up and then we can settle in for the show."
Since they were indoors in a nice room with environmental controls he hadn't bothered with the tent, but it still took a few minutes to get their packs arranged and sleeping bags unrolled. "What're they gonna sleep on in there? Do they have blankets?"
"Oh, sure," Rodney waved away John's concern as he shook out his neatly folded blanket and snapped it up to get an even spread before letting it drift down to the makeshift pallet below. "It's a medical treatment facility. They're going to be more comfortable than us. They've got beds and actual pillows." He knelt down and started through the pack. "What kinds of MRE's did you grab? None of those Chili with beans, I hope."
"Hey," John protested, "I like those."
"Yes, well. They may taste good, but they don't have the most pleasant effects on the body and if I've got to share a confined space with you, it's just as well you avoid setting off any other containment sensors."
It was juvenile, and John couldn't help but snicker. "Fart jokes? That's just great, Rodney. You sure none of that pot smoke is leaking in here?"
"It's not smoke, it's an aerosolized mist, and no, we haven't been exposed. I've just shared a tent with you enough times to know better."
Okay, he might have to agree with that one. "That's fair. And, I grabbed the Pot Roast, a Beef Stew and that Chicken Pesto, and I think one of the Cheese Ravioli."
Rodney grinned at him. "All my favorites. Thanks, Sheppard."
"Well, if I grab ones you don't like, you end up stealing all the good stuff from mine," he explained, but couldn't help smiling fondly, "so it's as much for me as it is for you."
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sheppard." He smirked. After a few more minutes of arranging, he got up and went back to the console and his laptop. "You mind if I get some work done?"
"Nah," John shrugged. "You go ahead. I'll keep an eye on the kids."
John settled into one of the chairs at the console, leaned back and swung his feet up to balance on its edge. The position gave him the perfect view of all three screens. Rodney stopped working long enough to push, ineffectually, at his feet before giving up and explaining the volume control, and then went back to his laptop. The staccato of key-clicks provided a nice, familiar background noise, and John leaned back even further in the chair, adjusted the volume control so that he could hear what was going on in the room, before bringing his arms up and interlacing his fingers behind his head.
It was a-lot like watching reality T.V. he realized a few minutes later. Everyone was settled in one room and there were about three different conversations going on all at once. From the way Ronon's arms were flailing as he talked to Doctor Zelenka, he must've been describing some kind of battle. Carson had kept enough sense to know that monitoring their physiological well-being was a good idea, and was running some kind of scanner in front of Teyla's chest. At least John hoped that's what he was doing. Lorne was sitting off to one side, carefully disassembling his P90. That, John was even happier to see.
He watched for a while longer, seeing conversational partners change, some limited sparring between Lorne and Ronon (though he doubted either of them could take down a kitten right at the moment), and far too much giggling. He reached his arms up to stretch, pretending not to notice when Rodney glanced at the lower hem of his shirt that was pulling out of his BDU's. "I'm gonna get something to eat. You?"
Rodney waved him away. "In a minute. I just want to finish up this report I'm writing. I'm finding that the best way to convince Woolsey I need new equipment and personnel is to write ridiculously long-winded reports that say the same things over and over again. I think it's the repetition that finally does it."
"It's the bureaucracy of it all," John explained as he prepped his dinner. "The man loves a well-filled-out form almost more than those three-piece-suits he insists on having on Atlantis."
Rodney snorted. "Hey, don't mock the suits. Remember how they paid off with the people on P4X-559."
John decided to get two more of the MREs ready for Rodney. He knew from experience that Rodney would polish off most of two, and what was left behind, he usually didn't mind too much. He also made sure to trade accessory packets from his chicken pesto and Rodney's beef stew. The beef stew came with accessory packet B, which had lemon iced tea instead of instant coffee. "True. They were funny little guys. Didn't respect the combats, or even the uniform, but once they saw the suit, they were quick to trade us that fruit. C'mon, finish that up, dinner is waiting."
"Okay, okay," Rodney grumbled, but he clicked a few final keys, closed the lid on his laptop and then joined John. They continued the conversation about Woolsey's suits while they ate; reminiscing about how the one (charcoal pin-stripe with a wine red tie) they'd finally agreed to trade to the natives made that tribal elder look kind of like a bum in a pimp suit.
Swapping his pound cake for Rodney's fruit (the wet packed was so much better than the dried), John asked, "So, for uh, calls of nature, are we gonna have to actually be in nature?" He looked around the room.
"Nope." Rodney pointed to the opposite corner of the room where one of the wall panels was suspiciously blank. "There's the Ancient equivalent of a lavatory over there. About as comfortable as an airplane bathroom, but it's functional and when I powered this room back up, I got the water running again."
"Cool." He finished up his dinner, packed up his trash and went to check it out.
( Get By With a Little Help - Part 2 of 2 )
Author: skitz_phenom
Recipient: taste_is_sweet
Pairing: John/Rodney (minor Lorne/Zelenka, other canon and non-canon pairings mentioned briefly)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis and any and all related materials are not mine. Don't own 'em... just playing with them. I'll put them all back just the way I found them when I'm done.
Author's Notes: Several 'hopes' for this story: taste_is_sweet I hope this makes you smile. I hope it's not too obvious that this is my first foray into writing SGA and McShep. I also hope that there's nothing in this that's too overtly similar to anything else that's been written. Listening to McShep podfic has been my sanity-saver these past few months, so I worry I may have subconsciously absorbed stuff. Oh and, due to the fact that I just started a new job this week, and scrambling to get the last couple thousand words written has been difficult, this did not get finished in time for a beta. I hope that's not too obvious.
Summary: An accident at an Ancient Laboratory manages to trap several Atlantis personnel and expose them to a mildly mind-altering substance, leaving John and Rodney to keep an eye on the them during their ordeal. Munchies are experienced, much giggling ensues and truths are revealed.
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"You know, if you're going to gloat, Rodney, I'm going to make you sit in the back of the jumper with the bulkhead door closed." John turned slightly and raised a hand to wag a finger at him. "No laughing, either."
Rodney made a noise that was suspiciously snicker-like, but turned it into a cough when John glared at him. "I just felt the need to point out that I... was... ri-i-ght." He practically sing-songed the last word.
John grumped and slouched deeper into the pilot's seat. "Hey, you can't blame me for thinking the way I did. I haven't exactly had the best luck with dinosaurs since we've been in Pegasus."
"I'll give you that," Rodney conceded, far too easily in John's opinion. "But, you don't have to worry your pretty little head about the big scary monsters." And yeah, that was more like it.
Just for fun, he jerked hard on the flight controls of the Puddlejumper and took them into a endless barrel roll. The inertial dampeners meant that they really didn't feel it, but John knew that just the view out the front window was enough to mess with Rodney's equilibrium.
"Sheppard!" Rodney squawked.
John straightened them out, and gave a sideways smirk to the other man. "What was that about my pretty head, McKay?"
Rodney just glowered.
Oops. He'd kind of broken the unspoken rules of their particular brand of give and take. When Rodney went into silent-mode it meant that he'd escalated to physical retaliation far too soon.
"Hey," he finally offered a few minutes later, "you said they were mammals not reptiles, right?" Rodney reluctantly nodded. "We should tell Ronon about those things. I bet he'd love to try to hunt one." It was, in terms of their banter, a peace offering. Well, in the sense that deflecting their mocking to someone else on the team (especially when that particular someone wasn't there to defend himself through judicious use of physical retaliation) could be considered a peace offering.
"Oh god, that's all we'd need." And yep, that was the right thing to say to get them back on an even keel. "Can you just imagine? He'd probably want to go after it with like, just one knife." Rodney's hands flailed rather descriptively in front of him, and John kept one eye on the heads-up display and one on Rodney. Rodney could be very theatrical with his gesticulation. "Or wait, better yet: bare-handed."
"He'd probably manage." John shrugged. Sure the things had looked about the size of elephants, but they had scrawny giraffe necks, they moved pretty slow, and John was fairly certain those spikes were ornamental.
"You're probably right. Of course, then he'd want to keep its head as a trophy." Rodney mock shuddered. "And that's just what we'd need whenever we do team-night in Ronon's room. Another set of lifeless eyes staring at us."
John had to agree. They'd let him keep the head and pelt of some kind of bear-cougar-lizard beast from M5S-484 that he'd taken down completely unarmed to win them trading rights, and it was pretty creepy the way the thing's glass eyes seemed to follow you around the room. At least he'd talked Ronon into keeping it in his quarters. After he'd killed the damn thing, he'd wanted to display his trophy in the gate room. "Hey, maybe it would barbecue nice? Be some big ol' steaks from that thing."
Rodney perked up a little at that suggestion. "Hrm, you think so? I mean, that six-legged lizard he killed on L64-671 turned out to be pretty tasty, but then again, those birds on ..." He broke off as their comm activated.
"Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis, come in please."
"Sheppard, here."
"Ah, Colonel." That was Woolsey. "How goes the scouting?"
"Nothing too interesting to report. We've covered a good fifty square miles around the research station and aside from some indigenous animal life," he stifled a laugh as Rodney coughed into his fist something that sounded suspiciously like 'barney...dinosaur', "we're getting no life-sign readings, or any other energy readings besides those from the Ancient outpost."
"That's good to hear, Colonel."
"Have Ronon and Teyla checked in yet?" he asked.
"Did Carson figure out anything more interesting about the purpose of the lab yet?" Rodney added.
"Actually, that's why I contacted you. Teyla and Ronon missed their scheduled check-in. They're only twenty minutes over-due, but I haven't heard from Colonel Lorne's team either." Woolsey didn't sound too concerned yet, merely cautious. John and Rodney exchanged matching frowns. Twenty minutes past check-in wasn't too much to be alarmed about but they'd left Teyla and Ronon with Lorne's team and Doctor Beckett investigating an Ancient lab; and he'd learned long ago that anything involving the Ancients was a potential disaster waiting to explode in their faces.
"Understood, sir. We're on our way back to the lab right now. We'll dial in as soon as we've got more intel."
"That sounds good, Colonel. Atlantis out."
John looked over at Rodney again as the comm went silent. "How sure were you that that was a medical facility?"
Rodney already had his computer up and was scanning through data. "Positive." There was no room for doubt in his voice. "And we also ensured there weren't doing any kind of work with nanites or nano-technology or bioweapons research. From all indications, they were using the facility to do research on the local flora for preventive and curative medicinal applications."
John nodded and pushed a little more speed out of the jumper. He was about to try to reach Teyla on the radio when the comm crackled to life again.
"Colonel Sheppard? This is Sergeant Meacham, do you copy?"
"Sheppard, here." John replied immediately, "Go ahead, Sergeant."
"Sir, there's been a bit of an incident at the lab. I think you and Doctor McKay should return here as quickly as possible."
"We're already on our way." He glanced at the display. "ETA is four minutes. Meacham, any injuries?"
There was a lengthy pause. "Uh, no, Sir. Not really."
"Not really?" Rodney blurted. "I think that's a pretty easy yes or no question, Sergeant."
John shot Rodney a look, which silenced him, though he couldn't help but agree. "Can you clarify that, Sergeant?"
"Well, Sir. It seems that the team inside the lab have been exposed to some kind of chemical or substance. Before he broke off radio contact, Doctor Beckett assured us that it wasn't harmful and that everyone was fine. He didn't sound too concerned, Sir. But the lab went into some kind of lock-down mode and we can't get in beyond that first chamber, which is all but powered down. The lab itself is sealed and Doctor Beckett hasn't responded since."
Rodney snorted derisively. "Not harmful? Why would the place go into quarantine mode if whatever they were exposed to wasn't harmful?"
John lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and then addressed the comm again. "Who's all stuck inside the lab, Sergeant?"
"Everyone but myself and Corporal Hendersen, Sir."
"Alright, Sergeant. You take Hendersen and head back to the gate. Report the situation to Atlantis and tell them we've got a quarantine situation, and that we'll need the HAZMAT suits."
"Yes, Sir."
"Sheppard, out." He tabbed off the comm and then turned to look at Rodney. "Does it seem just a little weird to you that Beckett didn't sound concerned about being stuck in an Ancient Lab, off-world, with some unknown chemical leak?"
Rodney pretended to think about it. "Hrmm, in the Pegasus scheme of things, I think that falls somewhere short of life-sucking vampire aliens on the weirdness scale, but definitely above plants that hum when you water them. " John nodded agreeably. It was a fair assessment. He'd liked those plants though. He had one in his room for a while before the botanists insisted they return it to the greenhouse since he 'couldn't be trusted to look after it properly.' It was possible he had over-watered it.
They both went silent when the lab finally came into sight and John busied himself with landing the jumper. Fortunately since it was an Ancient facility, it was fully equipped for dealing with the Puddlejumpers and had a landing platform just a few yards away from the entrance. Just to be on the safe side, he engaged the cloak as soon as he and Rodney headed out.
The door to the antechamber opened immediately when John waved his hand in front of the controls, and when they got inside the room was dim and the central control console that had been active earlier in the day was gone dark. He tried the door that led to the first chamber of the lab, but it wouldn't respond. "Rodney, can we get communication into that room?"
Rodney had already interfaced his laptop with the lab's console and was typing away. "I'm working on it. Seems like this quarantine protocol diverts power from the station out here, and routes it directly to the labs." He dropped to floor, pulled open a panel below the console, and switched a few crystals, then was back up in the chair, pushing buttons. "There," he said triumphantly after only a few moments, and lights flickered on with a hum while the whole station powered up. "We should have internal comms back online. I'll see what I can do to get a visual inside the room." He went back to his frantic typing.
John tapped the intercom panel Rodney had indicated. "Ronon, Teyla? This is Sheppard, come in." There was no response, so he tried again. "Teyla, this is Sheppard, please respond."
"Colonel," Teyla's voice finally responded through the speaker. "It's so good to hear from you." He fought the urge to do a double take, because Teyla's voice sounded weird. It was all slow, and drawling. Kinda sexy actually.
"What's wrong with her?" Rodney hissed, placing his hand over the mic. "She doesn't sound normal. She sounds a-lot like you, in fact."
John ignored that and pushed Rodney's hand away. "It's good to hear from you too, Teyla. Want to tell me what's going on? Sergeant Meacham said there'd been some kind of a chemical spill?"
"Oh, it's alright, John." He looked at Rodney, whose eyes went wide as he mouthed 'John'. "We're absolutely fin..." She broke off with a high-pitched squeal.
"Teyla!" John shouted, panic zinging through him. "Teyla, what's happening? Teyla, answer me, dammit!"
A strange scuffling sort of sound came over the radio for a moment and then Teyla's voice was back. "Apologies, John. Ronon wanted to talk but I would not let him, so he tickled me. He is a much more skilled tickler than I would have given him credit for." She giggled. John looked at Rodney again, whose blue eyes were still almost comically wide and the slant of his mouth slack with disbelief, and knew that poleaxed expression was probably mirrored on his own face.
"Uh, Teyla," he said very slowly and deliberately, "is Doctor Beckett there with you?"
"Of course, John. He is right here." Her voice quieted, as if she'd moved away from the radio for a moment. "Carson," he heard her call out in a very melodious way. "Carson, it's John. He wants to talk to you. No, Evan, please do not let Ronon get up... he will tickle me again." There were more scuffling sounds, and quite a bit of laughing in several masculine pitches along with Teyla's high, feminine one.
A moment later, Beckett came through with a very loud and hearty, "Hullo, Colonel!"
"Uh, hey, Doc."
"Is Rodney there with you?"
"I'm right here, Carson," Rodney said, leaning close to the mic.
"Rodney, lad!" And damn him if Carson didn't sound like he was thrilled to death at hearing McKay's voice. "How are ye?" His accent made the words almost unintelligible. The only time John had ever heard Beckett's brogue so thick was when they'd all been drinking, heavily.
"I'm fine, Carson." Rodney replied in the same patient and careful tone John had used a moment ago.
"Can you tell me what's going on? What you were exposed too?"
"Oh, it's nothin' tae worry about, lad. Just a wee bit 'o laughing gas." He hiccupped, and then someone else in the room said something unintelligible that had a chorus of laughter echoing through the speaker.
"Carson? Carson, stay with me here."
"I'm here, Rodney. I'm not going anywhere, lad. I cannae, all the doors are locked!" He burst into another fit of giggles.
"What do you mean by laughing gas, Carson. I need you to be more specific. Please." He covered the mic again and looked up at John, an utterly disgruntled expression on his face. "It's like talking to three-year-olds," he whispered vehemently. "I swear, Madison on a sugar binge is easier to talk to than this."
"Oh, it's a marvelous little component, Rodney," Carson cooed. "I did what can best be described as a high protein thin layer chromatography of its phytochemical constituents. It contains a phenolic alcohol that quite resembles tetrahydrocannabinol in its make-up. And somehow the Ancients have managed to aerosolize it."
Rodney tapped the comm button off and frowned up at John. "That's THC."
"You mean, like in weed?" Rodney nodded. "You're telling me they're stoned?" Rodney nodded again.
"It sure seems that way." He thumbed the comm again. "Carson, you said it's not dangerous, right?"
"Och, no. It's pear-fectly harmless. I think the ancients were using it to treat a number of chronic pain and degenerative ocular conditions from wha' I can tell."
"Well then why did its release trigger the quarantine?"
Carson giggled again. "Ohh, that. That was all Major Lorne's fault."
"Lieutenant Colonel," several voices could be heard calling out in tandem to correct him.
"Aye, Lieutenant Colonel Lorne. Ah'm never gonna get that right." A heavy breath gusted into the speaker, as if he were sighing, or just exhaling right over the microphone. "Ennaway, as I was saying, Colonel Lorne did it."
John fought the urge to put a hand in his hair and just tug in frustration. "What did Colonel Lorne do, Carson?" he asked.
"Colonel Sheppard?" That was Lorne's voice. "This is Colonel Lorne, Colonel..." And oh god, now Lorne was sniggering.
"Lorne," John growled.
"Sorry, Colonel." Lorne snickered again. From the background John heard Teyla helpfully offer, "Perhaps you should just call him John." and then Lorne was back, saying, "Right, Colonel John, Sir."
And that was about enough to shred the rest of John's patience. "Lorne, tell me what the hell happened," he snapped.
Something of the command in his tone must've come through, because Lorne sounded a fraction more under control when he replied. "Well, Doctor Beckett showed me the override controls for the containment system earlier, and when the leak happened, I thought it best to activate them. I think that I was supposed to wait until we were out of the room..."
Rodney cut him off and shooed John away from the comm. "Lorne, is Zelenka in there with you?"
"Yeah," Lorne drawled. "He's right here, Doc." There were more shuffling noises, and what distinctly sounded like an ass slap.
"Zelenka," Rodney snapped out, "what can you tell me about the containment system?"
"Rodney, my friend." And damn, Zelenka sounded as gone as everyone else. "Is good to hear your voice. We were just speaking of you. Bylo to dobré , přísahám."
"Yes, yes," Rodney barked again. "I'm your very best friend. Can we skip the pleasantries and get onto the diagnostic?"
John listened as Zelenka babbled at length about circuits and couplers and rerouting power - at least that's what John assumed he was talking about, he really wasn't paying attention, plus half of it was in Czech - and he gave Rodney a hand-rolling, 'get on with it' gesture. Rodney nodded. "Zelenka, listen. Zelenka..." he tried to cut in, but the other scientist was really on a roll, "Radek!"
The comm went silent for a moment. "Yes, Rodney?" Geez, Zelenka sounded sulky. John almost felt bad for Rodney sniping at him.
"What's the containment protocol for this particular substance? How long is it in effect?"
"Ummm," Radek was silent again, but over the increasingly juvenile background noises, they could hear the sounds of keys clicking. "Sixteen hours, approximately."
Rodney heaved a sigh. "Finally. Thank you, Radek."
"You're very welcome, Rodney. Is a shame you can not come in to join us. Máme se skvěle baví!"
John smiled as Rodney rolled his eyes so hard his head moved in a slight rotation with them. "Yes, it's a big shame. Now, why don't you join the others for a few minutes and be quiet while Colonel Sheppard and I talk." He looked up at John and just shook his head. "So." He said conversationally a moment later.
"So," John echoed.
"Sew buttons!" someone (disturbingly John thought it might have been Lorne) called into the comm, to a riotous chorus of laughter.
Rodney flicked off the comm with an aggrieved sigh. "That's enough of that."
"So," John repeated slowly, holding up placating hands at Rodney's sudden glower. "I was just gonna ask what we do now?"
Rodney un-bristled. "Well, if what Zelenka says is correct, the system has various protocols in place for each of the different substances that were being tested and synthesized here. Normally this protocol is triggered after everyone has evacuated the lab, but I'm guessing Carson wasn't clear on this when he explained the safety systems to Colonel Lorne. Either that or he'd already been affected by the exposure and wasn't thinking clearly. He triggered the protocol too early and it locked them down inside the lab, instead of outside." John was going to have a serious talk with Lorne about doing anything in an ancient lab without clear instruction from the science member on his team. "This particular component seems to require a sixteen point eight hour quarantine of all systems. I suspect that once the drug is considered sufficiently diluted by the lab's air purifiers, the lockdown will cancel itself out."
"Are you saying that they're all going to be high for the next," he glanced at his watch. Had it only been twelve minutes since they landed? It felt like hours already, "oh, fifteen or so hours?"
"Well, I'd imagine the effects won't last quite that long. The leak has been contained and I'm sure the concentration has already lessened considerably since the first exposure. But, the bodies' absorption rate is going to differ for each individual, and I also suspect that this stuff is a bit more potent that plain old Earth marijuana." He shrugged. "I'm not a botanist, so I really don't know. But if you give me a little bit of time, I can confirm Zelenka's findings about the protocol in the data center out here.
John nodded. "Sure, why don't you get started on that. I'll get back in touch with Meacham and Hendersen and send them back to Atlantis. As long as no one's in any danger, I think the best thing to do is just wait this out."
"We're on babysitting duty, you mean."
"Yep." John nodded again.
He left Rodney working at the console and his laptop, grumbling under his breath all the while, and headed out to the Jumper to radio the marines. Apparently they'd worked pretty fast to get the hazmat suits prepped and through the gate, and sounded a bit disgruntled when John told them to head on back to Atlantis without them. He understood that they didn't want to leave their team leader and Zelenka their interim scientist behind, but John had a feeling that things could get... uncomfortable. He'd spent a few weekends during his college years stoned off his ass, and had some bleary, and definitely embarrassing memories of that time. The fewer witnesses, he decided, the better.
Once he got all of that settled, he gathered up the packs, bedrolls and some other supplies from the jumper and headed back into the complex. He stacked everything in a corner, secured the door and by the time he rejoined Rodney, there were three different display panels in front of him, each showing the interior of one of three different rooms that made up the lab. "We've got visual, I see."
"Yep," Rodney needlessly confirmed. "And audio with it. We'll still need to activate the comm if we want to communicate directly, but we can keep an eye on things from here." He waved John over and pointed to his laptop screen, where there was a whole lot of data that John's eyes kind of glazed over at. Rodney would explain it anyway. "I was also able to confirm that Zelenka, despite being as high as a kite, was right about the quarantine period. If it were absolutely necessary to get in there, I could rig an override, but I'd rather not risk it. There were several other substances the Ancients were working with at this facility and an override on the quarantine system could cause power fluctuations in those containment units, and I can only assume anything still in containment here would be viable, just like the stuff our high-flying friends were exposed to. The happy bunch in there can just sleep it off."
"What about supplies? They have enough food and water?" He didn't see their packs in this room, so assumed they were inside the lab.
"Yeah. They've all got canteens and field rations for two days. Although, I suspect that they're going to run out of food sooner than later."
"Why's that?" He actually wondered for a moment if there was something about the drug that would have a weird kind of effect on their metabolism, before he caught on. "Oh, the munchies."
Rodney chuckled. "Yeah. You missed it a few minutes ago. Ronon must have a stash of chocolate bars on him, because he pulled one out of his vest and Teyla just tackled him!" He sounded rather awed by the whole thing. "Took him right out at the knees and wrestled it out of his hands. Of course, being Teyla, once she had it she shared it with everyone."
John smiled and shook his head, then asked in his most unassuming voice. "I uh, don't suppose there's any way to record the video feed?"
Rodney's brows drew in and his mouth thinned into a frown. "Sheppard."
John ducked his chin, feeling just a little bit guilty, then caught just the barest, there and gone flash of guilt on Rodney's face. "You're already recording it, aren't' you?" When Rodney's cheeks flushed almost immediately, John crowed, "Ha! I knew it."
"What? I've needed blackmail material on Zelenka for a while now. He's been holding that damn self-recording Birthday card I gave to Madison over my head for months now! Sneaky Czech bastard. I should never have recorded myself singing to her while I was in the lab. Not my fault the acoustics are good in there."
John just clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's get our gear set-up and then we can settle in for the show."
Since they were indoors in a nice room with environmental controls he hadn't bothered with the tent, but it still took a few minutes to get their packs arranged and sleeping bags unrolled. "What're they gonna sleep on in there? Do they have blankets?"
"Oh, sure," Rodney waved away John's concern as he shook out his neatly folded blanket and snapped it up to get an even spread before letting it drift down to the makeshift pallet below. "It's a medical treatment facility. They're going to be more comfortable than us. They've got beds and actual pillows." He knelt down and started through the pack. "What kinds of MRE's did you grab? None of those Chili with beans, I hope."
"Hey," John protested, "I like those."
"Yes, well. They may taste good, but they don't have the most pleasant effects on the body and if I've got to share a confined space with you, it's just as well you avoid setting off any other containment sensors."
It was juvenile, and John couldn't help but snicker. "Fart jokes? That's just great, Rodney. You sure none of that pot smoke is leaking in here?"
"It's not smoke, it's an aerosolized mist, and no, we haven't been exposed. I've just shared a tent with you enough times to know better."
Okay, he might have to agree with that one. "That's fair. And, I grabbed the Pot Roast, a Beef Stew and that Chicken Pesto, and I think one of the Cheese Ravioli."
Rodney grinned at him. "All my favorites. Thanks, Sheppard."
"Well, if I grab ones you don't like, you end up stealing all the good stuff from mine," he explained, but couldn't help smiling fondly, "so it's as much for me as it is for you."
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sheppard." He smirked. After a few more minutes of arranging, he got up and went back to the console and his laptop. "You mind if I get some work done?"
"Nah," John shrugged. "You go ahead. I'll keep an eye on the kids."
John settled into one of the chairs at the console, leaned back and swung his feet up to balance on its edge. The position gave him the perfect view of all three screens. Rodney stopped working long enough to push, ineffectually, at his feet before giving up and explaining the volume control, and then went back to his laptop. The staccato of key-clicks provided a nice, familiar background noise, and John leaned back even further in the chair, adjusted the volume control so that he could hear what was going on in the room, before bringing his arms up and interlacing his fingers behind his head.
It was a-lot like watching reality T.V. he realized a few minutes later. Everyone was settled in one room and there were about three different conversations going on all at once. From the way Ronon's arms were flailing as he talked to Doctor Zelenka, he must've been describing some kind of battle. Carson had kept enough sense to know that monitoring their physiological well-being was a good idea, and was running some kind of scanner in front of Teyla's chest. At least John hoped that's what he was doing. Lorne was sitting off to one side, carefully disassembling his P90. That, John was even happier to see.
He watched for a while longer, seeing conversational partners change, some limited sparring between Lorne and Ronon (though he doubted either of them could take down a kitten right at the moment), and far too much giggling. He reached his arms up to stretch, pretending not to notice when Rodney glanced at the lower hem of his shirt that was pulling out of his BDU's. "I'm gonna get something to eat. You?"
Rodney waved him away. "In a minute. I just want to finish up this report I'm writing. I'm finding that the best way to convince Woolsey I need new equipment and personnel is to write ridiculously long-winded reports that say the same things over and over again. I think it's the repetition that finally does it."
"It's the bureaucracy of it all," John explained as he prepped his dinner. "The man loves a well-filled-out form almost more than those three-piece-suits he insists on having on Atlantis."
Rodney snorted. "Hey, don't mock the suits. Remember how they paid off with the people on P4X-559."
John decided to get two more of the MREs ready for Rodney. He knew from experience that Rodney would polish off most of two, and what was left behind, he usually didn't mind too much. He also made sure to trade accessory packets from his chicken pesto and Rodney's beef stew. The beef stew came with accessory packet B, which had lemon iced tea instead of instant coffee. "True. They were funny little guys. Didn't respect the combats, or even the uniform, but once they saw the suit, they were quick to trade us that fruit. C'mon, finish that up, dinner is waiting."
"Okay, okay," Rodney grumbled, but he clicked a few final keys, closed the lid on his laptop and then joined John. They continued the conversation about Woolsey's suits while they ate; reminiscing about how the one (charcoal pin-stripe with a wine red tie) they'd finally agreed to trade to the natives made that tribal elder look kind of like a bum in a pimp suit.
Swapping his pound cake for Rodney's fruit (the wet packed was so much better than the dried), John asked, "So, for uh, calls of nature, are we gonna have to actually be in nature?" He looked around the room.
"Nope." Rodney pointed to the opposite corner of the room where one of the wall panels was suspiciously blank. "There's the Ancient equivalent of a lavatory over there. About as comfortable as an airplane bathroom, but it's functional and when I powered this room back up, I got the water running again."
"Cool." He finished up his dinner, packed up his trash and went to check it out.
( Get By With a Little Help - Part 2 of 2 )