Fic: The Last Flight of the Kee Bird
Title: The Last Flight of the Kee Bird
Author: yin_again
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Warning: None
Spoilers: general Season Two, post-The Long Goodbye
Summary: Two hundred and fifty miles north of Thule lies another relic of the Cold War, an almost-intact B-29 bomber. This plane, nicknamed the Kee Bird, became lost and crash-landed while on a secret mission. The crew was rescued, but the Kee Bird would lie here abandoned for almost fifty years.
Notes: For temaris. Happy holidays, dear.
“Dr. McKay?” Teyla walked into the lab with a thoughtful look on her face.
“Uh-huh?” Rodney glanced up from his laptop.
“Do you recall the conversation we had in the jumper regarding television?” Rodney nodded. “Well,” Teyla said, “I was thinking that watching some of your educational programming might be enlightening, and we have not had a team night in quite some time…”
Rodney was already going through titles in his mind when he heard the word team. “I could loan you some files,” he began.
“No,” Teyla said. “Ronon and I would like for you and the Colonel to help us understand.”
Rodney looked down at his hands, still poised over the keyboard, then back up at her, noting the determined look on her face. He pursed his lips. “When?”
“Tonight at 8:00,” she said, smiling. “I will bring the popcorn.” She turned on her heel and left.
“I’ll wear Kevlar,” Rodney muttered at her retreating back.
~*~
“Colonel Sheppard?” Teyla found him in the mess hall, drinking coffee and shuffling a stack of papers.
“Oh, hey,” he said, looking up and then quickly back down.
She sat down opposite him and smiled warmly. “Ronon has been released from the infirmary, but he says he is terribly bored. Will you join us this evening for a video?”
John looked surprised, then pleased. “Well, yeah, sure,” he said. He stared down at his papers and sighed. “I think… I think I owe you an apology.”
“You do not,” Teyla said. “It is I who owe you one. I wish to apologize for stunning you, and for very nearly killing you.”
John barked a short laugh and looked up with a grin. “No, you did exactly the right thing. Both times. No apology necessary. But, Teyla, I am sorry for what Thelan said to you.”
Teyla smiled serenely at him. “It is all right, John.”
John looked back down and blushed slightly. “I mean, he wasn’t lying - I do care for you. Just not in the sleazy way that he implied.”
Teyla reached out and patted John’s hand. “But he did lie,” she said. “He said that I did not know, and I do. And I feel the same way.”
John met her eyes. “But not the sleazy way, right?
Teyla smiled. “You are my friend, John, and I treasure that.”
“Me, too,” he said, watching as she got to her feet.
“Eight o’clock in the lounge,” she said. “I will see you there.”
~*~
At 7:45, Rodney entered the lounge with his laptop and a small cooler, ready to set up the film. He found Ronon sprawled on one of the couches in infirmary scrubs with a hand-woven blanket tucked around his knees. Ronon looked pale and a little tired.
“Hey,” Rodney said.
“Hey,” Ronon answered. “Teyla went to make popcorn.”
Rodney set his things down on the floor and started unpacking the necessary interface cables. “Are you on any drugs?” he asked.
“No,” Ronon said. “I don’t like the way they make me feel.”
Rodney nodded and gestured toward the cooler. “Help yourself, then.” He busied himself with the laptop and the large hanging screen while Ronon opened the cooler and took out an icy bottle.
“Beer?” Ronon asked, twisting the top off.
Rodney nodded. “Molson. Best beer in the world.”
Ronon drank half the bottle in one long pull, then belched contentedly. “You must feel really guilty about shooting Sheppard if you’re sharing this.”
Rodney flushed and stammered a bit before regaining control of his vocal chords. “Why… why do you say that?”
“Seems to be the way things work around here. Weir came by to apologize and gave me a box of something called ‘Twinkies’.” Ronon lifted the bottle again and drained it.
“A whole box?” Rodney said wonderingly.
“Yep.” Ronon sat the empty bottle to the side. “They were good.”
“You didn’t think to share?” Rodney snarled.
“I didn’t shoot anybody.”
He had a point there.
Teyla returned with two huge bowls of popcorn and Sheppard trailing behind her. Rodney gave them an awkward wave, then busied himself with the screen. By the time the DVD was ready, Teyla was settled at the end of Ronon’s couch, and John was slouched on the other. Rodney eased down next to him.
“Here,” John said, holding out the popcorn.
Rodney took a handful and stuffed some into his mouth. “There’s beer,” he mumbled, gesturing toward the cooler.
John grinned and Rodney relaxed. At least, until John reached for a beer and his shirt sleeve rode up enough to show the clean white bandage that covered the bullet graze on his upper arm.
On the screen, Richard Crenna narrated, telling them about a stranded B-29 bomber - crash-landed and abandoned in Greenland - and the salvage crew intent on flying her out. Rodney found himself watching Sheppard more than the screen. The salvage team struggled to repair the plane, fighting bad weather and worse luck, and he could watch the entire drama play out in Sheppard's facial expressions - the sympathetic twist of a lip; the lift of a wry brow; a quick wince at disasters small and large.
"Pause it," Rodney said halfway through. "We're out of beer."
"You got more?" Ronon rumbled.
Rodney thought about it for a minute, then made a decision. "Yeah," he said. "I'll be back in a minute."
When he returned with four more bottles, Sheppard was the only one left in the room.
"Where'd they go?"
Sheppard reached out for two of the bottles, depositing them in the cooler. He took one more and opened it. "Bathroom."
Rodney shrugged and sat down, opening his own beer. His eyes kept flicking back to the bandage on Sheppard's arm.
"It's okay," Sheppard said. "Just a graze." He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the couch.
"Shut up," Rodney said, looking away.
Teyla supported Ronon back into the room and settled him onto the sofa. Rodney restarted the documentary.
On-screen, the team made progress only to fetch up against the harsh Arctic winter. They were forced to abandon the site for the season, and one team member fell dangerously ill. Rodney found himself wincing at the stricken look on Sheppard's face, at the harsh bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he took a gulp of beer.
When the B-52 broke from the ice and mud and began moving across the frozen lake, Ronon made a quiet 'yeah' noise, and Teyla clapped her hands together in triumph. Sheppard turned to Rodney and grinned broadly.
They dropped into stunned silence when black smoke began pouring from the windows of the plane and the crew hastily abandoned it. They watched as the Kee Bird was consumed by the flames.
When the screen went black, Teyla cleared her throat. "Thank you, Dr. McKay," she said. "That was very interesting." Ronon made an affirmative grunt, and she helped him to his feet before leading him from the room.
Rodney watched as Sheppard turned his empty bottle around and around in his hands. “Rodney?" he said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Uh, why'd you pick this documentary?" One elegant hand gestured toward the screen, and his voice was a little rough.
Rodney pursed his lip. "It was about an airplane?"
"A doomed airplane."
Rodney winced. "Yeah, I'd forgotten that part."
"You made Ronon cry, McKay." John sat the bottle on the floor and twisted around to look up.
Rodney looked down at him. Sheppard looked tired and a little pale, but he was almost smiling. His eyes were bright. Over-bright, actually. "I don't think he's the only one," Rodney teased gently, reaching out. He hesitated with his fingers a few inches from Sheppard's face, but John leaned forward to close the distance, and Rodney felt the soft skin of John's temple against his fingertips.
"Only you," John said, his eyes closing. "I can't believe that a depressing documentary about failure is the way you say you're sorry."
"I forgot about the failure part," Rodney admitted. "I just remembered that there was an airplane and a crazy team leader who wouldn't give up. I was trying to make a statement."
"What statement?" John asked with a chuckle. "'We're screwed?'"
"'Give up now?'" Rodney said, rubbing his thumb against John's hair.
"'Fire bad?'" John leaned into the touch.
"Yeah, that," Rodney said. He curled his fingers around the back of John's neck, drawing his head down to rest on his knee, and John slumped against him. "I am sorry," he said. "I panicked."
"I know," John said. "Luckily, you're still not a very good shot."
"I know," Rodney echoed. "I'm kind of glad."
"Ronon got Twinkies," John said.
Rodney laughed. "I know. And all you got was a depressing documentary that made you cry."
"I dunno," John said. "I got an apology from you. I suspect those are rare."
"Don't be an ass," Rodney said, leaning down to kiss the top of John's head. "We're having a moment."
##
Author: yin_again
Rating: PG-ish
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Warning: None
Spoilers: general Season Two, post-The Long Goodbye
Summary: Two hundred and fifty miles north of Thule lies another relic of the Cold War, an almost-intact B-29 bomber. This plane, nicknamed the Kee Bird, became lost and crash-landed while on a secret mission. The crew was rescued, but the Kee Bird would lie here abandoned for almost fifty years.
Notes: For temaris. Happy holidays, dear.
“Dr. McKay?” Teyla walked into the lab with a thoughtful look on her face.
“Uh-huh?” Rodney glanced up from his laptop.
“Do you recall the conversation we had in the jumper regarding television?” Rodney nodded. “Well,” Teyla said, “I was thinking that watching some of your educational programming might be enlightening, and we have not had a team night in quite some time…”
Rodney was already going through titles in his mind when he heard the word team. “I could loan you some files,” he began.
“No,” Teyla said. “Ronon and I would like for you and the Colonel to help us understand.”
Rodney looked down at his hands, still poised over the keyboard, then back up at her, noting the determined look on her face. He pursed his lips. “When?”
“Tonight at 8:00,” she said, smiling. “I will bring the popcorn.” She turned on her heel and left.
“I’ll wear Kevlar,” Rodney muttered at her retreating back.
~*~
“Colonel Sheppard?” Teyla found him in the mess hall, drinking coffee and shuffling a stack of papers.
“Oh, hey,” he said, looking up and then quickly back down.
She sat down opposite him and smiled warmly. “Ronon has been released from the infirmary, but he says he is terribly bored. Will you join us this evening for a video?”
John looked surprised, then pleased. “Well, yeah, sure,” he said. He stared down at his papers and sighed. “I think… I think I owe you an apology.”
“You do not,” Teyla said. “It is I who owe you one. I wish to apologize for stunning you, and for very nearly killing you.”
John barked a short laugh and looked up with a grin. “No, you did exactly the right thing. Both times. No apology necessary. But, Teyla, I am sorry for what Thelan said to you.”
Teyla smiled serenely at him. “It is all right, John.”
John looked back down and blushed slightly. “I mean, he wasn’t lying - I do care for you. Just not in the sleazy way that he implied.”
Teyla reached out and patted John’s hand. “But he did lie,” she said. “He said that I did not know, and I do. And I feel the same way.”
John met her eyes. “But not the sleazy way, right?
Teyla smiled. “You are my friend, John, and I treasure that.”
“Me, too,” he said, watching as she got to her feet.
“Eight o’clock in the lounge,” she said. “I will see you there.”
~*~
At 7:45, Rodney entered the lounge with his laptop and a small cooler, ready to set up the film. He found Ronon sprawled on one of the couches in infirmary scrubs with a hand-woven blanket tucked around his knees. Ronon looked pale and a little tired.
“Hey,” Rodney said.
“Hey,” Ronon answered. “Teyla went to make popcorn.”
Rodney set his things down on the floor and started unpacking the necessary interface cables. “Are you on any drugs?” he asked.
“No,” Ronon said. “I don’t like the way they make me feel.”
Rodney nodded and gestured toward the cooler. “Help yourself, then.” He busied himself with the laptop and the large hanging screen while Ronon opened the cooler and took out an icy bottle.
“Beer?” Ronon asked, twisting the top off.
Rodney nodded. “Molson. Best beer in the world.”
Ronon drank half the bottle in one long pull, then belched contentedly. “You must feel really guilty about shooting Sheppard if you’re sharing this.”
Rodney flushed and stammered a bit before regaining control of his vocal chords. “Why… why do you say that?”
“Seems to be the way things work around here. Weir came by to apologize and gave me a box of something called ‘Twinkies’.” Ronon lifted the bottle again and drained it.
“A whole box?” Rodney said wonderingly.
“Yep.” Ronon sat the empty bottle to the side. “They were good.”
“You didn’t think to share?” Rodney snarled.
“I didn’t shoot anybody.”
He had a point there.
Teyla returned with two huge bowls of popcorn and Sheppard trailing behind her. Rodney gave them an awkward wave, then busied himself with the screen. By the time the DVD was ready, Teyla was settled at the end of Ronon’s couch, and John was slouched on the other. Rodney eased down next to him.
“Here,” John said, holding out the popcorn.
Rodney took a handful and stuffed some into his mouth. “There’s beer,” he mumbled, gesturing toward the cooler.
John grinned and Rodney relaxed. At least, until John reached for a beer and his shirt sleeve rode up enough to show the clean white bandage that covered the bullet graze on his upper arm.
On the screen, Richard Crenna narrated, telling them about a stranded B-29 bomber - crash-landed and abandoned in Greenland - and the salvage crew intent on flying her out. Rodney found himself watching Sheppard more than the screen. The salvage team struggled to repair the plane, fighting bad weather and worse luck, and he could watch the entire drama play out in Sheppard's facial expressions - the sympathetic twist of a lip; the lift of a wry brow; a quick wince at disasters small and large.
"Pause it," Rodney said halfway through. "We're out of beer."
"You got more?" Ronon rumbled.
Rodney thought about it for a minute, then made a decision. "Yeah," he said. "I'll be back in a minute."
When he returned with four more bottles, Sheppard was the only one left in the room.
"Where'd they go?"
Sheppard reached out for two of the bottles, depositing them in the cooler. He took one more and opened it. "Bathroom."
Rodney shrugged and sat down, opening his own beer. His eyes kept flicking back to the bandage on Sheppard's arm.
"It's okay," Sheppard said. "Just a graze." He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the couch.
"Shut up," Rodney said, looking away.
Teyla supported Ronon back into the room and settled him onto the sofa. Rodney restarted the documentary.
On-screen, the team made progress only to fetch up against the harsh Arctic winter. They were forced to abandon the site for the season, and one team member fell dangerously ill. Rodney found himself wincing at the stricken look on Sheppard's face, at the harsh bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he took a gulp of beer.
When the B-52 broke from the ice and mud and began moving across the frozen lake, Ronon made a quiet 'yeah' noise, and Teyla clapped her hands together in triumph. Sheppard turned to Rodney and grinned broadly.
They dropped into stunned silence when black smoke began pouring from the windows of the plane and the crew hastily abandoned it. They watched as the Kee Bird was consumed by the flames.
When the screen went black, Teyla cleared her throat. "Thank you, Dr. McKay," she said. "That was very interesting." Ronon made an affirmative grunt, and she helped him to his feet before leading him from the room.
Rodney watched as Sheppard turned his empty bottle around and around in his hands. “Rodney?" he said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Uh, why'd you pick this documentary?" One elegant hand gestured toward the screen, and his voice was a little rough.
Rodney pursed his lip. "It was about an airplane?"
"A doomed airplane."
Rodney winced. "Yeah, I'd forgotten that part."
"You made Ronon cry, McKay." John sat the bottle on the floor and twisted around to look up.
Rodney looked down at him. Sheppard looked tired and a little pale, but he was almost smiling. His eyes were bright. Over-bright, actually. "I don't think he's the only one," Rodney teased gently, reaching out. He hesitated with his fingers a few inches from Sheppard's face, but John leaned forward to close the distance, and Rodney felt the soft skin of John's temple against his fingertips.
"Only you," John said, his eyes closing. "I can't believe that a depressing documentary about failure is the way you say you're sorry."
"I forgot about the failure part," Rodney admitted. "I just remembered that there was an airplane and a crazy team leader who wouldn't give up. I was trying to make a statement."
"What statement?" John asked with a chuckle. "'We're screwed?'"
"'Give up now?'" Rodney said, rubbing his thumb against John's hair.
"'Fire bad?'" John leaned into the touch.
"Yeah, that," Rodney said. He curled his fingers around the back of John's neck, drawing his head down to rest on his knee, and John slumped against him. "I am sorry," he said. "I panicked."
"I know," John said. "Luckily, you're still not a very good shot."
"I know," Rodney echoed. "I'm kind of glad."
"Ronon got Twinkies," John said.
Rodney laughed. "I know. And all you got was a depressing documentary that made you cry."
"I dunno," John said. "I got an apology from you. I suspect those are rare."
"Don't be an ass," Rodney said, leaning down to kiss the top of John's head. "We're having a moment."
##