Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Doctor Rodney McKay stepped out of the wormhole onto yet another planet, his hand scanner already out and canvassing the area while his team—weapons drawn—patrolled. It was like any other alien planet—slightly off-color, smelly in a way that Rodney had yet to figure out, and covered in foliage.

He groaned as he tapped on the touchscreen of his scanner. What the hell was that blip?

Colonel John Sheppard glanced over. "Something wrong?"

"Someone on the science staff is going to get him or herself a new asshole when we get home," he grumbled, flicking through a few menus before he came to the one he needed.

"Because they told us there was something here and there's not, or they said there was nothing here and there is?"

Rodney huffed and turned the scanner to flash the screen at John. "Do you see these readings? Whoever checked the MALP readings needs their eyes examined. This clearly is detecting a power source. The MALP data report I saw did not make any mention of this. This is one of the energy signatures I tell them to scan for, too."

John grinned at him, the kind of smile that Rodney was powerless not to grin back at, no matter what mood he was in. "So let's go find ourselves a new power source, and then you can both reprimand and gloat at the same time."

"But why didn't it show up before?" he groused. He hated not getting complete reports.

"Dunno. Maybe it was buried and there was a massive storm and a landslide that revealed the secret cave after thousands of years of being lost."

"What, in the last ten hours? Come on." He gestured to the sky. "There's not a cloud in sight."

John grinned again and bounced on his feet. "You never know. Stranger things have happened." He glanced over at their other teammates, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan, who were watching them with amused looks. "All right, gang, let's go check out the mysteriously appearing power source. Stay on your toes. Teyla, you're on point, Ronon, you've got our six."

They acknowledged John's orders with quick affirmations and they headed off, Rodney still poking through the sensor readings. "I've turned into a human MALP," he complained quietly as soon as he felt John fall in step beside him. "They're supposed to check these things. And this power source you can't miss."

Although he had his sunglasses on, it was easy to tell John was scanning the surrounding area. "It might not have been here when they took the initial readings. Seriously, as long as the odds are, I can think of half a dozen reasons why a power source would suddenly appear just off the top of my head."

"I don't like it. Power readings don't just show up on agrarian-level planets and when they do, they usually come complete with underground bunkers and nuclear bombs."

"So we'll stay on high alert. Let me know if there are any changes or fluctuations. If something looks fishy, we'll head back to Atlantis and return with a cloaked jumper."

"Do you think I wouldn't tell you if something changed?" Rodney huffed, glancing to the side at his team leader and lover. "And why didn't we take a jumper in the first place?"

"No reason to take one. As you said, it's an agrarian-level planet, and as far as we knew, the only things worth checking out weren't all that far from the Gate. Besides, the fresh air and exercise is good for us."

Rodney snorted. "I know a better form of exercise I enjoy a whole lot more." And did he ever. It had been a little over thirty six hours since they'd had sex—that whole no sex before a mission rule. Rodney hated it, but it was a good rule. He would never admit that to John, though. And besides, Rodney felt weird. He'd gotten used to wearing the chastity device or cock ring every day, but on mission days he didn't.

John's smile turned softer, warmer for a minute. "Tonight I'll run you through your paces—make sure you haven't lost any muscle tone."

"I certainly hope so," he grumbled.

The other man chuckled, glancing around again. "Anyone's spidey senses tingling, or are we still good?"

"Fine to me," Ronon said, a few paces back.

"Teyla? Any hints of Wraith around?"

The Athosian shook her head, her long hair flowing around her face. "I sense nothing out of the ordinary. It seems much the way I remember it."

"Good. I'd rather not have any unexpected visitors. How far is this power source, Rodney?"

Rodney glanced up. "You want distance?"

"Roughly, yes."

"Roughly…" Rodney said, turning to the scanner, hoping no one noticed the red of his cheeks as his mind went in the totally opposite direction of where it should have been. He could almost feel John pounding— "Distance. Right. About…a kilometer west of our position."

A soft chuckle from his side told him John had caught the flush and the slight stammer, and identified it for what it was.

Teyla adjusted their course, heading deeper into the forest.

They moved quietly, the three warriors of the group moving almost soundlessly around Rodney.

John steadied him a few times as his feet slipped and slid on the damp leaf-covered ground—or just didn't pay attention to where he was walking. The power reading was steady, stable and strange. It was big, more than large enough for the MALP to have picked it up—if it was here for the MALP to find. But if it wasn't, how did it get here?

His mind began spinning possibilities, but really only ended up with one probable one—well, two. One: his staff was as stupid as he thought they were. Two: the power source wasn't here before, arriving sometime in the last ten hours. It could be a ship—because honestly, nothing with that kind of an energy reading could be portable.

John grabbed him suddenly, tugging him down as Teyla and Ronon also dropped. Before Rodney had a chance to ask what was going on, he heard faint voices in the distance. John glanced over at Ronon and the two seemed to have an entire silent conversation before the former Runner was up and disappearing into the surrounding foliage.

Settling deeper into the foliage, Rodney listened to the voices, trying to discern what they were saying. He slid his eyes to his scanner screen, checking the location of the power source—a few hundred yards away—before changing over to another screen. Five blips. Five within the scanner's radius. He angled the screen up so John could see.

He got a brief squeeze to his arm in acknowledgement, and then John was holding up his hand to silently tell Teyla how many there were. When Ronon came back, John gave the signal to fall back.

They moved quietly, nearly soundlessly—which for Rodney was a miracle. They paused about ten minutes out from where they'd stopped.

Keeping his voice low, John pulled them in close. "All right, the scanner was picking up five near our former position. Ronon, how close were you able to get, and what did it look like?"

"Close enough. I only saw three."

"Any ideas about our mysterious power source? Level of tech?"

"I could see a ship not far from where they were talking."

"A ship! I thought so," Rodney said a little loudly, getting a glare from John.

"All right, this is more than I want to be handling on foot and without backup. Let's fall back to Atlantis. We can return with a few cloaked jumpers to assess the situation."

The hiss of an activating weapon stopped Rodney in his tracks, just as he was turning. "I don't think so." The voice was deep, gravelly.

John stood slowly, turning to face the new guy. "How about we just leave and promise not to come back at all?"

"How about we chat about what you're doing here sneaking up on us instead?" That reply came from someone else, off to Rodney's left somewhere.

"We weren't really sneaking. We're explorers. Our intelligence suggested this planet didn't have anything except a low-tech society. We were hoping to find them and try to forge an alliance when we picked up a power signature our initial sweep didn't see. We were coming to see what it was. When we saw it wasn't unclaimed, we started heading back." Rodney recognized the deceptively loose posture his lover was using.

"They were sneaking," came the response from another man, this one appearing on the trail they'd used when they'd walked from the Stargate. "Using technology to find us like they knew we were here."

"We saw superior numbers and did the prudent thing to try and leave without being seen, I'll give you that. We aren't stupid, and we decided it would be smarter to move away and think it over before we tried to actually approach you."

"I recognize one. He's a Runner. The Wraith will be following behind them soon enough."

"Former Runner." John flashed an easy smile.

"You're always running," said the first man again. "It never ends until you're dead."

"Or until you take out the tracking device. We liked that option better."

There was a strange, tense silence Rodney didn't like. He also didn't like having his back to strangers with guns, but they'd been caught off guard. Even Teyla and Ronon.

"Those don't come out."

"They do if you know what you're doing." John's voice left no room for argument.

There was a strange silence before yet another voice, a little further out and somewhere behind Rodney spoke. "Bring them."

John glanced around. "Just for the record, my team, personally, can't remove the tracking devices if that's what you're looking for. We can, however, call in someone who knows how—and for that I'm willing to stay on as a guarantee of good faith while the rest of my team heads back to gather up what we would need."

"Watch the Runner and the Athosian, but keep an eye on the dark haired one, too." Rodney wanted to turn around, to see who was talking, but all he could go on was John's expression because he was standing directly across from him. Unfortunately, that didn't give much away.

Rodney could see several others—more than five. He made a mental note to check his scanner at the first opportunity. The ones he could see approached each of his team members cautiously with several standing back, their weapons raised and aimed at the Lanteans.

John raised his hands, away from his P90. "We're not here looking for a fight."

"Good," said the same gravelly-voiced man who'd spoken first. He was closer to Rodney now, just behind his shoulder.

John had learned his lesson the last time they had been kidnapped, by the slavers—he gave no outward indication that he was concerned about Rodney over everyone else. Instead, he flicked his eyes at all three of them. "I don't suppose you'd consider sending one of my people back to the Gate as a show of good faith?"

"No."

"Yeah, I didn't think so." John sighed. He glanced at Ronon, who was tensing up. John gave a small shake of his head.

"He can try if he wants," said another man, off behind Teyla. "Might be fun." Rodney guessed he'd seen Ronon and John's silent communication.

"Sorry to rain on your parade," John drawled.

A meaty hand wrapped around Rodney's upper arm and he shot a wide-eyed glance at John, only to see the same thing happening to him and the rest of the team. They were all disarmed, the men working steadily, easily, their moves clearly telegraphed beforehand.

Outwardly John didn't look too worried, but Rodney knew he was holding himself tightly. Rodney could see the small tells he gave, the ones Rodney could finally now read. He caught Rodney's eye briefly before addressing the whole team. "We'll just go have a nice chat with these fine gentlemen and straighten everything out."

This was bad. Very bad. He'd wanted to grab for his scanner when they'd taken it from him, but Rodney'd resisted—barely. They just didn't have a lot of them and he needed every last one—even if it wasn't working right.

The men—hulking barbarians with high-tech guns—marched them back toward the power source—a.k.a. their ship. Each team member had their own personal escort—one per person—and that wasn't counting the others scattered around in front and behind. There had to be ten people just watching them. How the hell could the scanner be that wrong?

John glanced at him, then around at their guards. His thoughts were apparently going in the same direction. "So, you guys have some pretty sweet technology here. Love the guns by the way. Once we get this misunderstanding settled, I don't suppose you'd be interested in talking trade?"

Goon number one—the one also hanging onto Rodney—replied. "We don't trade."

John looked at the guns again, a brief flash of longing—he denied it, but he so wanted a laser gun just for the cool factor—then sighed. "Will you at least tell us who you are?"

Their captors were silent. It was Ronon who finally spoke up. "They're Bomani."

"Bomani?"

"Warriors. Pirates. They steal things."

"Wait." John stopped in his tracks, only to be pushed forward by his guard. "We've just been captured by Space Pirates?"

Rodney sighed, loudly. Only Sheppard.

His lover was grinning. "That's awesome."

Rolling his eyes, Rodney shook his head. "Yes, yes. Every boy's dream," he muttered.

John looked over at the one who seemed to be the leader. "Please tell me you have eye patches and parrots."

"Parrots?" The answer came from another man, the one currently walking beside Teyla.

"Small bird that sits on your shoulder and mimics speech." Despite themselves, the pirates seemed to be fascinated by John. Rodney realized belatedly that his lover hadn't lost his mind. He was trying to make them appear more harmless.

Rodney rolled his eyes again, his feet sliding on the damp ground. His goon managed to keep him on his feet, which was good. He had no desire to do a faceplant into the mud.

John was glancing at his own guard. "Do you ever feel the urge to say 'Argh me maties'?"

Rodney groaned, plastering a hand over his face. They were dead, so dead.

"Don't mind him." John grinned at Teyla's guard. "What kind of retirement package do you have? Do you accept recruits? Because if I ever decide to change professions, Space Pirate would be near the top of my list."

John's guard shoved him forward. "Just walk."

John stumbled but caught himself. "If you don't recruit, how does one become a space pirate then? Is it like a family business?"

"Does it look like they're playing twenty questions?" Rodney hissed. He knew what John was trying to do, that he was trying to gauge their captor's temperaments and find any weak areas, but this was just stupid.

John shot him a quick look. "I'm just being friendly. Chatting passes the time on a long walk, and getting to know the neighbors is never a bad idea."

Rodney gestured around. "Does it look like they're friendly? Does it look like they want to be neighbors? I don't think so."

"They didn't shoot us—that right there says they aren't opposed to the idea." John gave the leader person another bright smile.

"You might be useful," was the reply from Rodney's goon.

"I can be very useful," John nodded. "But I should probably tell you up front that my level of usefulness increases the more of my people you send back through the gate."

"We'll take our chances."

"I just thought I would give you fair warning. Because I really want to be able to tell my friends back home that I helped the space pirates. They'll all be jealous. I'll be pretty bummed out if I'm forced to do something... less than useful."

They walked out of the forest into a field—complete with tall grasses waving in the afternoon sun. If John broke out singing songs from Oklahoma Rodney was going to kill him on the spot. He'd figure out how when the time came, but that was the plan.

More importantly, though, was the ship nestled in the middle of the field. It was huge and in desperate need of repair. It was kind of like the Millennium Falcon—if the Millennium Falcon had been rectangular instead of circular. It even had space guns.

"Oh, that is just cool. These are not the droids you're looking for." John breathed the last under his breath. It was only because Rodney was standing close to him that he caught it.

"You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious," Rodney murmured back to him.

John chuckled, flashing Rodney a genuine smile. "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"We're doomed."

They were tugged apart again and started forward. It didn't take long to reach the ship, where they were escorted inside and shoved into four separate cells near each other.

Rodney moved to the bars, trying to see his team mates. "I have a very bad feeling about this."

"Don't panic yet. We don't know what they want." He couldn't see John, but his voice was steady.

"What do you mean, don't panic?" Rodney hissed, catching Teyla's eye from across the hall. "Either my scanner is malfunctioning—which is highly doubtful—or they have a way to cloak individual people from scans. Or we're dealing with space pirate zombies, which in Pegasus, could be a distinct possibility."

"We aren't dealing with zombies, Rodney." He could hear the amusement in John's voice. "But the cloaking tech is interesting. I want everyone to avoid causing an incident for as long as possible. If we can convince them we're better allies than enemies, maybe we can buy or trade for some of their science."

"Where did they get it from in the first place? They don't look smart enough to come up with it themselves."

"Space pirates. My guess is that they stole or found it, and are obviously smart enough to figure out how to use it to their advantage."

Ronon finally spoke up again. "Stole it, probably. That's what they do."

"Quite frankly, I don't care how they got it if they're willing to share it with us. I'm not looking to have slumber parties and braid their hair. I just want to get us out of here, and if we can get some new toys in the process, all the better."

"They don't share. They steal and loot."

"Oh, great. We've been captured by the people who rape and pillage villages." Rodney rolled his eyes, trying not to panic.

"Yeah, but people who steal usually sell—and if we make it clear we're buyers, they'd be pretty stupid to kill us. Let's think positive people."

"I am thinking positive. We are so screwed."

"Rodney calm down. Panicking is not going to get us anywhere. Let's not panic until they actually tell us why they grabbed us." John's tone had taken on a note of command, a note that went straight to the obedience and submissive parts of his brain.

Rodney swallowed his reply, leaning his head on the metal bars. They were so screwed.

***

Ten paces by ten paces. Well, almost. It was actually 9.65 paces by 11.27 paces, but John was willing to cut the room some slack.

They had been captured by space pirates.

While a part of him found that infinitely hilarious, the rest of him was wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this. The rest of the team had fallen silent as they waited to find out what Captain Hook had planned for them.

After what felt like hours, one of the guards from before returned to their cells. They opened John and Ronon’s doors and motioned for them to step out. With a shrug—how else were they going to find out what was going on?—John nodded at Ronon and they followed the guard through a series of winding passages. He tried to memorize where they were going, but he really sucked at ground navigation.

Finally they came to what John assumed was a control room of some kind. Captain Hook was waiting for them.

"Why are you here? There is nothing you could possibly want from the people here."

John glanced around carefully, trying not to be obvious about it. "We're explorers and traders. We were told the people of this world are willing to trade excess crops for certain items, so here we are. We picked up an energy signal our initial intelligence hadn't shown, so we detoured to check it out. I wish I had a more interesting story for you, but I'm afraid that's it."

"And you have Runners as part of your team." It wasn't a question.

"Former Runner. We removed the tracking device and I asked him to join my team afterward. He agreed."

The Captain…leader…whatever he called him moved cautiously around the room. "Where are you from?"

"Another galaxy. My people came here several years ago hoping to make new friends and explore." John moved slowly, keeping the Captain in front of him.

"I find that hard to believe."

John shrugged. "Why would I lie to you? I really don't have anything to gain by making that up."

"Where did you get your weapons from?"

John blinked. Okay, that was a new one. "My gun? From my home world, standard issue. Ronon won't tell me where he got his, so I can't help you there."

"You can get more?"

"No, I can't even get one for me. I've been trying to get him to let me borrow it, but—"

"You will get me more."

Narrowing his eyes, John shook his head. "I don't have more. What part of 'that's the only one I've ever seen and I've been trying to find one like it for six months now' did you not understand?"

He paused, glaring down at John. "You have more. I know your type."

One eyebrow went up. "My type? Okay, I don't think I want to know. If I had more ray guns, don't you think I would have been carrying that instead?"

"I wasn't talking about the Runner's weapon."

"Now, see, clear communication—it's the key to a happy existence. If you want those, you'll have to send one of my people back through the gate. I'm not authorized to sell our weapons."

"I'm not looking to buy them."

"So what do you want?"

The Captain kept walking around, his eyes on John and Ronon. "There are a lot of things I want and I get what I want. This time, I believe you will be spending your next few days working for me."

Great. They couldn't have lucked out and gotten the saner version of the good Captain. "Working for you?"

"Yes."

"What kind of work? And why exactly do you think we'll just skip merrily off with our lunch box and a whistle?"

"Oh, yes, you will. Your team mates will be my guests until I'm…satisfied with your services."

One day they would find a people who didn't think hostages were a great form of motivation. Today, apparently, wasn't that day. "You still haven't told me what you're looking for."

"You'll find out soon enough. Bring them to the secondary holding cells."

Secondary... "Wait, what? Where are you taking us, and why not back to the rest of my team?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, waving to the guards to take them away.

A quick assessment confirmed what John already knew—they were outnumbered and outgunned. The ball was in the Captain's court. They would have to see how this played out. So far no one had been hurt, so John held on to a shred of hope.

"Yes, you are outnumbered," he said, his words, low, knowing. "And you will be for the foreseeable future. If you do what I want, we'll see about letting you, and your team, go."

"You do know that if you just let me send someone back with a request, you could probably get what you wanted as well as a potential alliance worth a lot more, right? Making us prisoners might net you something in the short term, but long term..."

"We don't make alliances."

"Of course you don't." John sighed, tired of the shit Pegasus kept throwing at them. "Never mind the fact that between us we could probably do some serious damage to the Wraith, who are the real enemy."

The Captain shrugged. "Everything has its place, its purpose, its uses."

"Yeah, but it doesn't do you much good when you've been invited to dinner as the main course. I'm not suggesting you change your way of life. I'm just suggesting that we'd be better off as allies—hell, even neutrals—than as enemies."

"The Wraith do not concern me or my men."

Looking out a small window, John let his eyes go unfocused. "And you don't really care about the people of this or any other planet either, do you? What do you care about?"

"Me."

"And your men? Their families?"

"They know they'll get their share if they stay with me. That's enough for them."

John looked back, meeting the other man's eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"Right now?" John nodded silently. "Your cooperation. I have a job that needs to be done."

"And if I cooperate, none of my team is hurt and we can talk about sending them home?"

"Oh, no. You misunderstand," he said, stepping closer. John could feel the guards tensing just in case he or Ronon did something. "I require the cooperation of every member of your team. If you perform…admirably—each of you—we can discuss your release as payment for your services."

"I want to know what the services are first. If it's agreeable, I'll order them to cooperate and no one will get hurt."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he smiled, his teeth colored yellow, brown in places, "I said so."

John couldn't help tensing, but he stood his ground. Just his luck: space pirates with a God complex. Pirates were just never as cool in real life as they were on TV. John was horribly disillusioned.

The guards tugged them away a few moments later, turning them down a different hall than they'd walked through when they arrived.

John followed quietly. He wanted to resist, but he wouldn't risk his team. If he could just get them out of here... they were led to a very small room—even smaller than the first cell, and both shoved in. He was pretty sure Rodney would have been complaining about breathing in Ronon's dreads about now.

Ronon was tense, intense. "They're not going to let us go."

"If you have any better suggestions, I'm open. Right now if we try anything they'll mow us down before we can blink." John moved to the corner, sinking down.

"So you're just going to give up?"

"Who said I was giving up? We're getting the hell out of here, one way or another. Right now, though, we don't know much of anything about this ship, how many men there are, schedules, anything. If a little bit of cooperation keeps us all unharmed and healthy, then I'm willing to play along. It will make getting out when the time comes a hell of a lot easier."

"They're splitting us up to make it harder to plan an escape."

"I know. But again, short of fighting a battle that will get us both—and probably Teyla and Rodney as well—killed, it's the only option I can see right now."

"They won't kill us right away."

"If we fight, they might not kill us, but they will hurt us—or our teammates. I'm not willing to risk that, not yet. If it becomes necessary I will, but... Let's see what they want. If it's something simple, it won't hurt to do it. It will give us some leverage, possibly, and, more importantly, will give us the chance to learn the layout of this place a little better, and get an idea of what the weaknesses are."

Ronon snorted, looking out the small window in the door into the hall.

John was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over options. "If you have a better idea, tell me."

"Escape. Take our chances."

"How? And do you have any idea where Teyla and Rodney are being held in relation to where we are now? Not to mention, we have no weapons at the moment."

"They're on the other side of the ship. Front section. I never need weapons to make my point."

John drummed his fingers against the floor. "Okay, let's do a little more planning here than just 'hit things really hard.' One: how are we getting out of this cell? Two: how many guards are there in the immediate area? Three: assuming we find Teyla and McKay, how do we get them out of their cells? And four: once we do that, how do we get out of this ship and back to the gate without getting caught again?"

Ronon glanced over his shoulder at John. "Pick the lock. Three. Pick the locks or get the key from a guard. Run."

John took a long moment to let the Runner's answers percolate. He agreed with him in some aspects—he knew these pirates would probably kill them before letting them go. But if they escaped now would they be able to find the rest of their team? Would it be safer to wait it out for a little while or try to escape now?

"You remember how to get to the other cells?"

Ronon nodded, prowling back and forth in front of the door of their cell.

"Are you sure there were only three guards?"

Another nod.

John sighed. He just wanted one mission to go smoothly. Why couldn't this one be it? We weighed the pros and cons, trying to decide what would be the best way to make sure his team got out of this is one piece.

"What the hell." John stood up, finally coming to a decision—one he wasn't sure about, but at least he'd be doing something. "After you—just try not to get me killed, okay?"

"They're not looking to kill us."

"I hope you're right. Pick the lock and let's see if we can get home in time for dinner. I heard there was going to be mashed potatoes tonight."

Ronon grunted and reached into his hair, tugging out a knife. He started in on the door a moment later.

John leaned against the wall, staying out of his way and trying to plan for contingencies in his head.

It took Ronon ten minutes to pop the lock.

It actually took him longer than John would have guessed. The former Runner slipped him yet another knife and they moved quietly into the hall.

They dispatched the guards quietly, managing to knock them out instead of killing them. No need to kill anyone. It wasn't necessary. Ronon took point, leading the way through the halls with an ease John envied.

He stayed close, keeping an eye on their six. He couldn't help but think it was almost too easy.

They managed to avoid any of the pirates, ducking into side passages, small sections they could squeeze into. Ronon was good, really good.

They made it to the other cells. Only two guards. Less than a minute later, John was standing outside Rodney's cell.

Rodney's empty cell.

God fucking damn it. He moved down to see if Teyla's was empty, too.

"They're gone."

"Yes, I was noticing that myself. Fuck."

"Looking for something?" It was the Captain's voice—smug and very, very arrogant.

"God fucking damn it." John spun around.

"Did you think we would just let you leave?"

"I had kinda hoped you would, yes. I don't suppose we get bonus points for not actually having killed any of your men."

"I appreciate your…thoughtfulness."

"We aren't actually trying to be your enemy. We just want to go home."

"And I'm not…ready for you to leave just yet." He gestured to a guard before pointing to John. "Secure him."

John was surprised when another guard came up behind him. He quickly found himself bound with his hands behind his back. "Fuck."

"Actually, that wasn't what I had in mind," the Captain said, nodding to the guard who shoved John into a cell and locked the door.

With his hands tied, John couldn't slow down fast enough, slamming into the far wall. It got a moan out of him.

"You should watch where you're going," the Captain said, humor in his voice.

Turning, John shook off the hit. "What do you want from me? You obviously expected this, so what are you trying to get here?"

"Just an initial test. Right now is lesson number one." He turned to the guards, his eyes drifting to Ronon. "Rough him up a bit, but I want him able to walk."

John lunged at the door, but with his hands tied and a door between him and the guards, there was nothing he could do except growl.

Ronon held his own against the five guards for a while, a long while. The knife helped. But once they got that away, things went downhill quickly.

John clenched his jaw tight, and by the time it was over he was breathing hard, anger making his blood feel hot. He glared at the Captain.

When Ronon was bloody and on the floor, the beating finally stopped. "Lesson one has been concluded. Put him in a cell."

"Just what was this supposed to teach me?" John didn't bother to hide how pissed he was.

"That escape is not possible. That I get what I want. That I can do what I want."

"So you arranged to let us escape as an excuse to beat the shit out of one of my people?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to see what you would do, how you'd react, how good you were. It served its purpose. This," he gestured to Ronon who was being put in his own cell, "is a lesson for you."

"Where are my other two teammates?"

"Not here."

"If you've hurt them I swear I will find a way to kill you."

"No, you won’t. You will do as I say. If so, everything will be fine. But the same goes for the rest of them as well."

God, Rodney had to be out of his mind. He hoped Teyla was still with him—she could keep him calm. "So far you haven't told me what you want. You've just been playing games to fuck with my head. So you'll have to forgive me for not really taking you at your word."

"What have I said that was not true?" He looked surprised.

"You've been jerking me around since we got here."

"Have I been?" He paused, offering John a smile. "Then, perhaps, you should learn to live with it." A man stepped up to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. When the guard stepped away, the Captain was beaming. "It seems like your other team members are as resourceful as you are—even more so."

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. If he was smiling, that couldn't be good. "If you hurt them, I will kill you."

"You are in no position to do so."

"Now. But I promise you, I will find a way."

"Never." His tone was steady, confident. He gestured to the guards and the men slid into hiding places along the walls, deep in shadow. The Captain stepped to the side of John's cell door, hiding as well.

John could hear Rodney. He was trying to whisper, but it wasn't working.

"Are you sure this is the right way? I swear we should have turned at the last fork in the hall."

John knew they didn't have much of a chance, but he had to try. "It's a trap! Run!"

"Colonel?" Teyla's voice was close. Too close.

"Run! They're in the walls, in cubbies. Get the hell out of here!" He didn't really think they had much chance, not this close, with this many men. But he had to give them a chance if he could...

Rodney's choked-off yelp was enough to tell him his warning hadn't been enough. Two guards ushered his other team mates in moments later, the Captain stepping into the light.

Rodney was instantly on the defensive. "What are you doing here? What do you want with us? What did you do to Ronon and Sheppard?"

"We're fine, McKay. Ronon got a little roughed up, but it seems we had the same idea you did, with about the same level of success."

Rodney turned immediately on Teyla. "I told you we should have gone for the gate."

John wanted to bang his head against the wall. Instead he looked at the Captain. "You've proven your point. We can't escape. Fine. I'll give you my word we won't try it again, if you'll give me yours you won't harm my people anymore."

"It is every man for himself," he said, nodding to the guards who pulled Teyla aside, her hands pulled behind her back.

"No. I take full responsibility for my team." John's breath felt caught in his throat. If they beat Rodney...

"You are not the only one who requires a lesson," he said as they shoved Teyla into her own cell. Her hands weren't bound, but she was still locked inside. Rodney's eyes were wide as he watched everything unfold.

"I didn't do anything," Rodney whispered.

"You listened to her," the Captain said. "But she needs to know that her decisions affect others directly."

Fuck. "Take it out on me. She was following my orders."

"And you…Colonel Sheppard, will learn lesson number two."

John's eyes widened. "How do you know my name? My people are under my command. If you want to punish someone, punish me."

"Oh, but I am, Colonel. You get to watch." He nodded to the guards who shoved Rodney into the middle of the room, stumbling over his feet. "That was very clumsy, Doctor. You almost tripped."

John closed his eyes, wishing he could go back in time and decide to head back to Atlantis when they had new readings, get a jumper then. He couldn't believe this was happening to them. Again.

"Did the Colonel teach you how to defend yourself? It may be prudent for you to at least try."

He was taunting Rodney, making fun of him. The guards were circling the scientist, keeping him off-balance.

John looked at the Captain. "Please don't do this. He's not a warrior and you know it. Ronon could give as well as he could take. We all know that isn't the case now. Let me, let any of us, stand in his place."

"He needs to learn how to stand on his own."

"That's my decision and my job. Not yours."

The Captain gestured to Rodney. "And it seems as if you did not do a very good job of it."

The guards were getting closer, keeping Rodney moving, off balance. The scientist was watching, waiting and when he threw his first punch it was good—knocked the guard back off his feet.

His second punch never landed. The second guard stepped in and a quick right hook sent Rodney spinning on his heel, unconscious before he hit the ground.

John growled, throwing himself at the bars of his cage. "You fucking bastard."

"Every time one of you steps out of line, a member of your team will suffer," the Captain said, gesturing for Rodney to be dumped into another cell. "You will be the ones causing pain to each other."

Breathing hard, John just glared.

As Rodney's cell door clanked closed, John could hear the lock sliding into place. "Oh, and these cells do not have locks that can be picked, so don't waste your time."

John bit his tongue—antagonizing the prick further would probably get his team beaten again, and wouldn't actually accomplish anything.

He smiled, clapping his hands together. "Good. Tomorrow we'll begin with task number one. Have a good night."

John sank to the ground. His arms were already aching from being tied so tightly behind him. "Can anyone see Rodney—is he okay? And Ronon, how are you doing?"

"I cannot see Rodney very well," Teyla said after a moment. "He is in the middle of the cell on his back. I do not believe either of them are conscious."

"Great. Day one and we have two team members beaten and out, and we're at the mercy of a sadistic bastard. Just peachy."

"What did Captain Gamba tell you?"

"His name is Gamba? I didn't even get that much from him. Just that he has 'tasks' for all of us, and assuming we complete them to his satisfaction, he'll be willing to consider letting us go. I don't really believe him about the last part."

"We must work for our release, yes. He told us that as well." She paused, letting the silence settle for a moment. "I must apologize to you, for not protecting Rodney."

John sighed, shifting to try and get some circulation. "It wasn't your fault—we didn't do much better."

"He did not…wish to cause any trouble. I insisted that we would be able to ascertain your location and make our way out of the ship without incident."

"It wasn't your fault, Teyla." John stressed it. He needed her focused and not wallowing in guilt. "The good Captain arranged for us to escape so he could see what we would do. You wouldn't have gotten out if you had followed Rodney's plan either."

"Perhaps. But now they know Rodney can work their computer systems. He overrode a control panel in the storage room they had placed us into."

Closing his eyes, John fought down the rising panic. "Before you guys got here, they got a call, something about being more resourceful than anticipated. It made them light up like Christmas trees."

"I do not know, but I do not believe it is something that will benefit us." Her words were accompanied by a groan from Ronon's cell.

"Probably not." John raised his voice slightly. "Hey, buddy, welcome back to hell. How you feeling?"

"Fine," he grumbled, rolling to his feet with another groan as his hands wiped away the blood from his face.

"Look, obviously we aren't getting out of this by force. When we fail to check in, Elizabeth will send a few teams to look for us. In the meantime, everyone just do whatever is necessary to stay alive and preferably in one piece."

"What happened to McKay?" Ronon's voice was hard, his eyes sharp as they turned to meet John's across the hall.

"He was beaten for the same reason you were—to teach me a lesson."

Ronon growled as Teyla broke in. "It was to teach me a lesson as well, Colonel. You are not the only one it effects."

"No, you're right. It was to teach all of us a lesson. We do something the Captain doesn't like, and we won't be the ones to pay the price—he'll take it out on one of the rest of us."

Rodney picked that moment to groan and John could hear him shifting on the floor, the rustle of fabric. The groaning gave way to a rough cough which was followed by more groans of pain and the sound of spitting.

"Rodney?" John couldn't help the way his voice seemed a bit too high.

"He is up, John, but curled over a little. I cannot see what he is doing," Teyla replied, leaning against the bars and shifting on her feet as she tried to get a better view. "Doctor McKay….Rodney, are you well?"

"My tooth is loose."

"Carson can fix it when we get home. I'm sorry. All of you." The last was whispered softly.

Rodney ignored him, his tone heading toward indignant. "He punched me in the face."

"I know. He did it to teach us a lesson. That's what we were talking about just before you woke up. If any of us misbehave, he won't punish the person acting out, he'll target another one of us."

"I’m gonna be bruised. It hurts!"

John tugged at his bound arms. He decided not to mention it to Rodney. It would only worry his lover further. "I know, buddy. I'm sorry."

It took another minute before John heard Rodney moving again. "Everyone else okay?"

John listened to Teyla and Ronon reassuring him, smiling slightly.

"Rodney, are you bleeding?" Teyla's voice was calm.

John could hear the shrug in his lover's words. "Must have bit the inside of my mouth or something."

"McKay, how badly are you injured?" John put a note of command in his voice.

There was a quiet sigh before Rodney answered. John wished he could see him, but because of how they were arranged he couldn't. "My head's ringing a little and I know there's at least one tooth loose and I’m bleeding and I’m going to have one hell of a bruise."

John sighed. "Try not to move too much, and we'll do what we can to get out of here as soon as possible."

Rodney snorted, but was quiet otherwise and that worried John more. Teyla finally broke into the silence, her voice even, soft. "We should try to rest."

"Yeah." John shifted again, wincing. He was going to be lucky to be able to move his damn arms tomorrow, and he was glad his team really couldn't see him. Well, Ronon could, but the Satedan was a little preoccupied with how shitty he was feeling. "Right now our hosts have the upper hand. Tomorrow we'll see just what these tasks he has for us are. Until then, we can't do much."

They'd each settled into their cells, silent. It was about half an hour later—according to John's time sense—that two guards appeared. One held a stunner of some sort, the other had a tray with bowls of food and cups of water.

He stopped in front of Teyla's cell first. "Stand back away from the door."

"Do it, Teyla." John gave the order when he didn't hear her move. "Starving yourself isn't going to help anything. That goes for the rest of you, too."

"Not like some of us can eat," Rodney grumbled, but no one protested, the guard depositing the food in each cell until they came to John's.

"Step back."

He didn't bother to try and stand, just scooting a bit. "I don't suppose you'll untie my hands? It'll be a little hard to eat this way."

The guard with the food, dropped it on the floor and then gestured for John to turn. He heard the snap hiss of the other guard's gun. "Try anything and your scientist gets a nice jolt. Understand?"

"Understood." John pushed himself up and turned. He wanted to lash out, but he wouldn't risk getting Rodney hurt any further tonight.

The guard was quick, loosening the tightly wrapped bonds. As soon as the circulation entered his hands again, John groaned. God, that hurt.

He took a few deep breaths, turning slowly to face the guards. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him drop to his knees, but he really wished they would go so he could rub the ache out.

The guard looked him over carefully before nodding. "Good. You're learning already." He turned on his heel and walked out, the door clanging shut behind him. The lock clicked into place a moment later.

With a groan, John sank to his knees, rubbing his hands and arms.

"You okay, Sheppard?" That was Ronon, talking through a mouthful of food—gruel from the look of it.

"Yeah. They didn't rough me up like they did you and Rodney. Just tied my hands behind my back, tight enough that I had lost circulation. Now that I'm free, it just aches a bit. I'll be all right."

"Rodney, you must eat even though it hurts." Teyla's voice was quiet, but it carried far enough.

"Rodney..." John really wished he could see his lover, even if he couldn't touch him. "You have to eat, buddy."

"Oh, yes, because bloody gruel tastes so much better than regular gruel."

"Use the water they gave us to rinse out your mouth a little first."

"Rodney—" Teyla sighed, her tone exasperated.

John picked at his own dinner. "Just eat, Rodney. I'm not asking you to enjoy it. I just don't want you to get sick."

Teyla sighed again, quietly. "It will get worse before it gets better. I suggest you eat now before the muscles stiffen and the swelling begins in earnest."

Fuck. John had thought he was just roughed up a bit, not that it was extensive injuries. "Just how bad was he hurt?"

"His jaw is already beginning to bruise," Teyla replied.

It took some coaxing, but they managed to finally get Rodney to eat a little something—complaining the whole time. John picked at his own meal a bit more, taking a few bites and forcing them down for some of the same reasons he used on his lover. Then he settled in the corner of his cell, listening to his teammates drifting off to sleep.

What a mess. What a fucking mess. How did they always manage to get themselves into these kinds of situations?

With a sigh, John closed his eyes to try and catch whatever rest he could manage. Tomorrow would be interesting.

***

When the guards came for them the next morning, Ronon took the opportunity to assess his teammates. Sheppard looked tired, drawn. He probably hadn’t slept much. Ronon reflected briefly that the loyalty and care the other man had for his team—and his fierce need to protect them—was both frustrating at times, and was also the reason he had made Atlantis his new home. John Sheppard would never stop fighting for those he was pledged to, and he would never betray them. He was a man Ronon was honored to fight beside and follow.

Teyla also looked tired. She was harder to read in general, but he could see her guilt when she looked at McKay. Sheppard had told her it wasn’t her fault, but he thought it would take her some time to accept that.

McKay himself looked pretty bad. Tired, bruises on his face, although not as bad as Ronon had feared, given the complaints last night. Bad enough to hurt, sure, but not bad enough to cause permanent damage. It was a pretty spectacular color, though.

It was colorful enough that Ronon glanced back at his team leader, keeping an eye on him. If Sheppard had a weakness, it was McKay. The other man tensed, his eyes narrowing, but he didn’t do anything reckless. Good. Ronon was pretty sure they could take out these guards, but given what they saw yesterday, it would be foolish to try again before they had a better idea of the layout of this place and the closest exits.

"Take a look at each other now because there's no telling if you'll see each other again in the same condition tonight," said the man who Ronon assumed was the leader. It was the same one who'd called the shots yesterday. "It all depends on what you do today."

Sheppard growled, but he didn't respond directly to that man. Instead he looked at the rest of the team, forcing an almost lazy posture Ronon had learned was deceptive. "Don't go wearing out our welcome, guys. See the sights, try the food, and we can all share slides of our vacation tonight."

The leader narrowed his eyes. He wasn't so easily fooled. He pointed at John and Teyla. "You will be joining my men on a quest today."

"A quest. Lovely. If there's a map with an 'X' on it, I'm demanding to see the parrots." Sheppard's smile matched his posture.

Sheppard was ignored. "The Doctor and the Runner will be staying here."

At that, Sheppard's gaze sharpened and fell on Ronon. He conveyed a whole set of orders with a glance—Keep McKay safe. Do whatever is necessary to make sure there are no more beatings. Watch for weaknesses that could be exploited.

Ronon blinked in understanding. He'd do that anyway. McKay was part of his team and his commander's partner. He knew how things worked.

Several guns warmed up as Sheppard and Teyla were gestured to move out of the prison area. McKay was silent, but from the way he held himself Ronon knew he was hurting and worried. Sheppard needed to teach him about his body language.

As he moved, Sheppard shifted closer to McKay. Ronon saw the brief touch of fingers skating along an arm.

Sheppard should know better. If the Bomani saw that, they'd use it—much to McKay's displeasure, he knew.

His team leader kept moving, following the guards out. He glanced back once, taking them both in. Ronon had learned to read Sheppard well enough to see the worry, but he was fairly certain their captors would only see the flippant mask they were meant to see. "You kids have fun."

McKay was silent, too worried and panicked to reply.

"Today you will be working with Essien on some repairs of our engine. He injured his arm during our last quest and requires another set of agile hands. You, doctor, have them. He will be watching very carefully so be certain to do exactly as he says."

Ronon raised an eyebrow, but kept silent. He decided he would shadow McKay for as long as they would let him—if he did something to get them separated, he knew Sheppard would be... disappointed. And if all they wanted McKay to do was fix something, well, at least they weren't asking for the impossible.

McKay nodded his understanding. "And… Ronon?" The words were quiet, a little garbled. Apparently his jaw had stiffened up overnight just like Teyla said it would.

Ronon didn't move, but he did tense his muscles. "I'm his assistant."

"For now you will be. I have another task for you this afternoon."

Ronon just grunted. He'd deal with it later.

"What do you expect me to fix? I don't know anything about your ship or its systems."

"You showed a great deal of resourcefulness yesterday. You will use that today." The leader gestured. "Take them down to Essien."

McKay didn't comment again, instead following the guard deeper into the ship.

Ronon quietly paid attention to every twist and turn, the number of guards visible, doors and exits, anything that could potentially be useful for escape later.

There were a lot more of the Bomani than they originally thought, probably fifty total. The ship was more than large enough to hold them, but it was strange McKay's scanner had only picked up five.

He knew Sheppard had wanted whatever technology they were using to fool McKay's scanner, but Ronon was pretty sure at this point, it would require stealing it, as the pirates didn't trade. So he added that to his list of things to watch for. If something small enough to be concealed was left where he could get to it, he would make a try for it.

Essien was big, larger than the leader even—and he was an inch or so taller than Ronon. He was waiting for them in the main engine area. The smell of fuel and oil and grease was strong and tinted with the odor of animals. A four-legged animal wandered around the area, sniffing McKay and Ronon as they were brought in. Ronon also spotted a cage in the far corner that housed a red bird.

Grunting, Ronon moved to the side, doing his best to be innocuous. He didn't want these people paying much attention to him, because it would be easier to steal from them and escape if they learned to underestimate him. It was why he had allowed them to win the fight last night as well.

"What do you want from me?" McKay's back had straightened, his posture improving as he tried to make himself bigger. Ronon nearly rolled his eyes.

"M'told you hacked our systems. So you know something about machines. You're going to be m'hands since I can't use my own right now." Both of the engineer's hands were swathed in a white cloth of some sort.

"Why not?" McKay asked, but then quickly continued. "I mean, it's obvious why you can't work with your hands…what did you do to them?"

"Not any of your concern. Right now you're gonna crawl in there and fix what I tell you to fix, how I tell you to fix it. You do it right, and no one gets hurt today."

"Do I have to worry about that happening to me? The hands thing. I need my hands."

"I c'n break 'em now for ye if you're so inclined."

Ronon stiffened, ready to move in to protect McKay if necessary.

McKay moved back a half step. "No, it's just that my hands are important for my work and I really can't afford to have anything happen to them when I’m repairing your engines."

Essien took a step forward. "You c'n get in there and do as you're told, or I can break them now. I ain't got all day, so decide now or I'm decidin' for ye."

McKay's eyes were wide, the bruise on the left side of his face dark against his skin. He began to move where Essien pointed, but his complaints didn't stop. "I'm just trying to ascertain if I’m in any bodily harm inside there and you not answering me is not helping to make me feel comfortable about the whole situation."

Essien glanced at Ronon. "Does he ever shut up?"

"Nope." Ronon shrugged. "Decking him won't help either, just make the complaints louder."

"You know I’m right here in the room," McKay complained, glancing over his shoulder. He'd paused just before a small opening that apparently led into the main engine core.

"Don't make me gag you, because I will," Essien said, taking a step toward McKay.

Ronon tried to look casual. "If you gag him, he won't be able to tell you how to fix things better."

"I'm not looking for better, I'm looking for fixed."

"Up to you." Ronon shrugged. "Just letting you know that the more you rough him up, the less you'll get out of it. Leave him to fix something, and generally it works better in the end."

"We'll see about that," he said, turning back to McKay. "What are you waiting for?"

"It's…are you sure you don't have a larger area where I can work?"

"McKay." Ronon growled. Couldn't the man learn to tell when it was and wasn't appropriate to keep talking? "Just do it."

Essien nodded at a guard and Ronon heard the whine of the stunner as it warmed up. A quick check to the side confirmed it was aimed at his head.

"McKay..." Ronon growled again. He hated being stunned.

"I’m going, I'm going. It's just…small in there. How do you expect me to work—"

"Just do it."

"And isn't that a bad Nike commercial if I ever saw one," he grumbled, but leaned into the space again.

Ronon guessed that was another Earth reference—McKay and Sheppard were bad about that. But it made the guards stop pointing guns at him, so Ronon was willing to cut the scientist some slack.

McKay sighed and climbed into the access tube, disappearing from view a moment later.

The next few hours were boring for Ronon. McKay started talking geek with the engineer, and the guards were keeping a wary enough eye on him that, other than occasionally fetching things, he just stood around.

It wasn't until he heard McKay drop the tool he was using for the fifth time did he shift.

Glancing at Essien, Ronon grunted to get his attention. "If you don't give him something to eat, he'll get sick."

"He'll eat when he's done. Not sooner."

"Then it won't get done. He's got a medical condition. The longer he goes without food, the clumsier he gets, and the less he can think. Then he passes out and requires a doctor to revive him."

"I guess we'll see how long he can last then, won't we?" Essien smiled at Ronon, daring him to do something.

Ronon knew the type. He knew the harder he pushed it, the less likely it would be they would feed McKay. So he shrugged. "Up to you. He's already getting slower, more clumsy. You want him dead and your engine still broken, that's your call."

Another guard arrived a few seconds later, gesturing to Ronon. "We're ready for you."

Ronon hesitated briefly, glancing at the cubby where the scientist was still working. The sound of another dropped tool and a muttered curse was loud in the room. He glanced at Essien again. "If you don't feed him soon, he'll be bad enough to be next to useless, and on his way to dead. Didn't seem like that was what your captain wanted."

"That wasn't an invitation to talk," the guard said. "That's your one and only request. Now move."

Knowing resisting further would only result in McKay being punished, Ronon shrugged again and followed the guard out, hoping they would take his word and feed the other man.

They led him through various passages until they were finally outside, several of the men standing around three large beasts. "Since you're so good with knives, skin and clean these animals."

He resisted the urge to snort. If this was all they wanted, he could skin all day. He wasn't stupid enough to reveal that he was still armed however. "Got a knife for me?"

A stunner activated as another guard handed him two knives—one for skinning, the other for the actual cut down. "Don't try anything stupid."

Instead of bothering with an answer, he just grunted. One knife was jammed into the dirt, while he went to work with the other, switching them out as needed. As a Runner, he had been forced to do this for both his food and his clothes, so it was easy, almost mindless work.

The sun was beginning to set when he heard another group returning. Glancing up he spotted Sheppard and Teyla in the midst of a group of men. They were dirty and tired, but they were carrying several bags—large bags. It seemed their quest had been successful.

A quick once-over and he saw no new bruises on either of them. Good. So they hadn't been beaten for misbehavior.

"Where is Rodney?" It was Teyla who asked the question as the group paused beside Ronon's area. He was just about finished. One more animal to go.

"Fixing the engine."

Before Sheppard or Teyla could ask anymore questions, they were ushered inside, leaving Ronon to his work.

He made quick work of the last of the animals they had left for him. In a flourish, he threw both knives so they landed in the dirt at his guards' feet.

Ronon gave the guard credit: he didn't flinch. "Done?"

"Unless you've got more."

"Not tonight."

Ronon grunted and waited.

The guard waited a minute before moving a few steps away, gesturing for someone else. Another man emerged from the ship a moment later and they conversed, leaving Ronon standing there.

"You're done for the night. You'll be taken to your room."

He just stared at them and waited. He would follow when they led, since that was most likely to get him back to his team.

He was lead to a different part of the ship, two decks down from the main deck. The rest of his team was there, mostly trying to get McKay to eat. He didn't look good.

Ronon glanced at his guard. "He didn't feed him? You might not want to listen, but unless you're trying to kill him, starving him won't work."

"We'll come back in the morning," the guard said, closing the door. Ronon heard it lock a beat later. They'd been upgraded. It was a small bedroom with one bed and a tiny bathroom.

He moved to Sheppard's side. "I told them to feed him."

"He was barely awake when we arrived," Teyla said quietly. "Fela, one of our guards, said he would inquire as to Rodney's condition."

Ronon dropped to the ground. "Essien is the engineer. I warned him a few times he needed to feed McKay unless he wanted his leader to beat him for killing the prisoner. I was sent for before I could convince him. Didn't want to add another beating on top of no food."

Rodney groaned, managing to shove Sheppard's hand away.

"Hey, buddy, I know it hurts but I need you to eat for me." Ronon didn't think Sheppard was even fully aware he was there—all his attention was focused on McKay.

The door to their room opened a beat later and Teyla rose as soon as the man came into view. "Fela?"

He handed her another bowl of something. "He was fed, but not much. When he finally stopped working, Essien got annoyed and had him brought here."

Ronon glanced up. Looked like Teyla and Sheppard's guard was a little more willing to listen. "I warned him, but he was bent on forcing McKay to work all day for his food. Said he would get fed when the engine was fixed."

"It's not fixed yet. He will be expected to work tomorrow. See to it he can." His last words were directed at Teyla.

Ronon rolled his eyes, a habit he had picked up from the Earthers. These people were being willfully stupid.

The door closed and locked once again and Teyla moved to set the bowl on the small table next to the bed. "I have more food, Colonel."

Sheppard looked up, his face tight with worry. "I can't even get him to eat this. God damnit, he's going into shock and he needs a fucking IV."

"May I try?" Teyla was calm, just like usual.

The other man nodded, standing and pacing away. He glanced at Ronon. "They had you skinning all day?"

"Half. Watched McKay the other part."

"They've got us running fucking errands. I have no clue what this guy wants from us. This was just a test today, same as yesterday was."

Ronon watched as Teyla coaxed a spoonful of food into McKay. "We're overdue."

That got him a startled glance. "For what?"

"Our check in." Sheppard wasn't tracking and that wasn't good.

His team leader blinked a few times. "Right. So hopefully we won't be here much longer."

"Unless they cloaked the ship." Another bite and then another. Good.

"Did Rodney work on that today? And we still have our subcus. They can track us, even cloaked."

"I don't know." Five bites and McKay pushed Teyla away. Ronon rolled his eyes.

"John," Teyla said quietly, "perhaps if you…calmed him?"

Sheppard was immediately back at McKay's side. "Hey, buddy. You're doing good. Just a little more, okay?"

"No more."

"You need to eat."

"Not hungry."

"That's because you're in shock. You need to eat." Sheppard was stroking McKay's forehead, smoothing back the hair.

"Can we go home?"

"I wish we could, buddy. Hopefully help is on the way now."

"Not in shock."

"You need to eat."

"Tired. Don't want to work on the engine tomorrow."

"I know. But we might not have a choice, Rodney." Sheppard's voice has gotten low, soothing.

McKay shifted on the bed, his eyes opening to look at Sheppard. "Such a small space."

Sheppard's eyes snapped up to Ronon. "How small is the space they have him working in?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't see. Small."

"Fuck." Sheppard rubbed the bridge of his nose, something he only did when he was really tired. "Rodney is claustrophobic, too. Between that and not feeding him…we need to get out of here. Another few days of that and if he's not dead it will drive him insane."

"So think of something."

McKay tugged on Sheppard's arm. "Can we sleep?"

Sheppard slumped down. "Yes. Sleep now, Rodney. We'll try and think of a way to get you sent home."

Teyla's hands on Sheppard's shoulders made him glance up. "Use the bed. Ronon and I will be fine."

He shook his head, standing. "I'm not ready to sleep yet. We need to convince these bastards to at least send Rodney back through the gate. If he stays here they're going to kill him by sheer fucking accident."

"Won't happen."

"I have to try." Sheppard's eyes drifted to the bed and McKay, who had drifted into a restless sleep.

"Wake him in a few hours and feed him again," Teyla said quietly. "If he rests I believe he will feel better. I do not believe he slept well last night."

"Did any of us sleep well last night?"

Teyla didn't answer, instead laying a hand on Sheppard's arm. "Ronon and I will keep watch. Rest while you can."

"Retirement is starting to look a lot more attractive. I don't know if I can keep doing this." Sheppard allowed himself to be led to the bed, pushed down next to McKay.

"Rest. You will think better when you do."

With a grunt, Sheppard stretched out along the bed, and McKay, even sleeping, immediately curled into him. Within minutes they were both out cold.

"Good," Teyla said with a nod, sitting down on the floor and taking a bowl of the food, handing off one to Ronon. "Fela will help as much as he can, but it is doubtful he will help us escape. He fears for his own safety."

Accepting the bowl, Ronon dropped to his haunches so he could see both the door and the bed. "Better than mine."

"We saved him from harm when a roof was about to collapse on him. He was…grateful."

"Good. Can he get us weapons?"

"I do not know. Perhaps." She took a bite of her food, frowning a little at the taste. Yeah, no wonder McKay didn't want to eat it.

"He gets us stunners, we can get out of here."

"These men…the Bomani. You have had dealings with them before?"

"Not directly." He polished off the gruel. It wasn't as bad as he had tasted before, and better than nothing. "But I've heard of them."

"And what have you heard?" She took another bite, swallowing it down quickly.

"They're thieves, scavengers. They follow the Wraith and take advantage of culled worlds to take whatever's left."

"Then why are they here? This world has not been culled."

"From what I saw today, the ship is broken. Probably had to land to make repairs, and this was the closest safe place to come."

"Do you know how it was damaged?"

"How, no. But the engine was nearly dead from what McKay was saying. And there are scorch marks on the hull. Probably got a little too close to a hive."

"It seems…odd that they landed on his planet when we were planning a mission."

"You think it was more than coincidence? How'd they know we were going to come here?"

Teyla shrugged. "It seems peculiar. There is something about these men that sets me on edge."

"They want something from us. Sheppard is right about that. So far they've just been testing us."

"What?"

"Seeing where our weakness are, what we're willing to try."

Teyla's eyes drifted to the two slumbering men.

"Sheppard shouldn't give away how much he can be manipulated through McKay."

"I do not believe he can help himself."

Ronon grunted. "At least he's getting better."

Teyla cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow rising in question. "Do you disapprove?"

"Of them together, no. Of Sheppard losing it when McKay is threatened, yes. He's better than he was, but he needs to get it under control."

"I agree, but it is one…instinct that I believe will always remain."

Ronon shrugged. "Not asking him not to protect what's his. Just that he not make it obvious to the guys who are holding us prisoner."

"Perhaps you should speak to him."

"He didn't ask for my opinion."

One of the men shifted on the bed and Ronon heard McKay sniffle a little, burrowing deeper into the other man. Teyla's expression was fond exasperation as she watched over them. "Perhaps Doctor Weir will send a rescue party and we shall only be here another few hours."

"McKay looks better than he did." While Ronon could see why Sheppard's military disapproved of this type of relationship—Sheppard's behavior was a perfect example of it—he also thought they were too restrictive. Ronon was pretty sure that if they didn't have to hide that they were shield-mates, Sheppard probably wouldn't be as weird about hovering.

"Yes. I believe the lack of food was only one of the issues. Rodney…has an issue with enclosed spaces."

"They'll beat one of us if he doesn't go back in tomorrow."

"Yes," Teyla said with a sigh, "they will. We should rest."

"I'll take first watch." Ronon settled a little more comfortably.

Teyla didn't argue, instead tugging one of the blankets from the pile in the corner. "Remember to wake them in a few hours. Rodney must eat again."

He grunted an acknowledgement. He'd wake Sheppard and let him deal with forcing McKay to eat.

It was his job, anyway.

***

The morning had not gone well. The guards had come for Rodney first, his panic barely contained as they'd forced him out, a gun held to Ronon's head. John had held himself back, his body stiff as he watched the scientist led away.

Ronon had been next, taken away to another location for yet another task. The guards had told John and Teyla they had time to prepare themselves for another day.

John was…not pleased with the situation.

He was pacing, back and forth in their small cell. She was surprised he didn't have a headache, as stiff as his muscles looked.

"Pacing will not make things better."

"Would you prefer I hit things?"

"Neither would improve matters, so no."

"Where is Atlantis? Why the fuck haven't they come for us yet?"

"I don't know, John," she said quietly, her hand on his arm stopping him. "They will come."

He closed his eyes briefly. "Before or after Rodney gets Ronon killed, or loses his mind?"

"He will be strong."

John ran a hand through his hair, sitting down heavily on the bed. "How was Ronon last night? He looks a lot better this morning."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sitting down gently next to him. She didn't want to spook him.

"He took a beating, too." John gave her a wry smile. "Despite appearances, I'm not focused solely on Rodney, not in the field. He was moving more freely last night and this morning than he was after they used him for a punching bag. Did he mention anything about it?"

"He let them win," Teyla offered a smile in return. "We are simply…concerned that you have shown more of your hand than you know."

Sighing, he leaned back onto his elbows. "I know. I worry about that too. I'm beginning to think I should give serious consideration to taking myself off the team and giving you guys Lorne."

"And what good would that do? Major Lorne, while a good soldier, would find himself in a very precarious situation. If he let anything happen to Rodney…" She let her words trail off, her eyes knowing.

John looked away. "I can't and won't ask Rodney to leave the team. It wouldn't be fair to him. I'm the one with the problem, not him. And you said yourself—I'm becoming more of a liability than an effective leader. I don't want to leave. You guys are... But I don't want to get you killed either."

"You have…improved. I am certain that if you work on it you can…hide it sufficiently off-world."

Glancing back, there was a ghost of a smile on John's lips. "Before or after I get us into trouble? Again?"

"You are improving," Teyla repeated with another smile. "You must have faith that things will turn out for the best."

"In the meantime, we've been taken prisoner by deranged space pirates. I feel cheated that there are no parrots, and the novelty of the situation is wearing very thin. Any ideas on getting out of here?"

"Ronon did mention a small animal in the engine room, and also a winged creature."

That got a small huff of amusement from him. "So there is a parrot. My faith in the ultimate awesomeness of the universe has been restored. I still don't think I want to be a permanent guest."

"Nor do I. Perhaps if we discover the real purpose for our capture we can ascertain how we may be able to escape."

"I wonder if they plan to keep us cooling our heels all day. Even hunting jackalopes is better than just sitting around."

"The guard said he would return."

John was up again, pacing.

"Should you not save your strength?"

"For what?"

"I do not know." She sighed. She was just as restless as he was, but there was only enough room for one of them to pace.

Fortunately, it wasn't much longer before the guard was back. Along with the Captain. The line of John's back went stiff immediately.

"Captain Gamba," Teyla said, standing slowly. "I did not expect to see you."

Eyes flicked over both of them, resting on John, who had moved slightly in front of her. While she appreciated that he didn't want to get her hurt, it was irritating as well. His voice dropped into the drawl she knew he used to annoy people. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"You will be accompanying my men today to retrieve some…items."

"What kind of items? And just so we're clear," John's eyes narrowed. "I don't care how many of us you threaten or actually beat. I'm not, nor are any members of my team, killing or hurting anyone. I won't be turned into an assassin."

"I have no intention of putting a weapon in your hands," Gamba said. "The items are varied."

"I'm not stealing from innocents either."

"You'll do as my men say or your scientist will not live out the rest of the day. How long do you think it will take for him to die if we don't feed him? Maybe we should try it again today, see how much he can take."

Teyla could almost feel the agony coming off John, but he didn't back down. "Then you won't get your engine fixed, will you? How long do you think it will take the Wraith to pick up the same energy signals we did? I'll be cheering them on when they cull your stupid asses because you killed probably the only person capable of fixing your damn ship out of spite."

"Our cloaking field is working once again. My men were able to repair that as McKay began his work on the engines. We are safe and protected." Gamba tilted his head to the side. "Would you like to try again?"

"I'm not dooming innocents to fulfill your warped need to see what you can make me do. I want to protect my team, yes, but they wouldn't thank me for killing others to do it."

"We don't kill anyone, Sheppard," Gamba said. "Others are sufficiently good at doing that. Are your token protests finished?"

"If you're stealing their technology, what little so many of the people in this galaxy have managed to collect, then yes, you are killing them. Maybe not outright, but odds are good without it they'll be dead a hell of a lot sooner. I will help you recover items that aren't claimed by anyone. I won't steal."

"You'll do as my men tell you," Gamba said, turning away, the conversation complete. "Just pray I take pity on your scientist today since you will be spending the night on another planet." He gestured to the guards. "Prepare them and be on your way."

If anything, John's shoulders got stiffer. When Teyla moved closer, she heard his soft "Rodney, Ronon", barely an exhale.

"We must do as they say," Teyla said quietly, her lips barely moving.

"I know. And if we're out of the shielding, there's a better chance of our subcus getting picked up. Doesn't mean I like it." His response was just as quiet.

Once Gamba left, the guards ushered them down the hall, giving them each a large backpack along with a small bag that turned out to be food—hard rolls and some dried meat. A thin blanket was added to their gear before they were hustled out of the ship. There were six of them in total. While they might be able to get away, that would leave Rodney and Ronon here alone.

They walked to the Stargate. While they waited for the dialing sequence, Teyla noticed John was casually shifting all his weight onto one foot. He was facing the direction of the ship.

"Trust them to survive."

When he shifted, moving to stand beside her, she caught the faint outline of his boot, a distinctive pattern only the footwear of Atlantis had. Then she understood. If they came here looking for them, the print would let Atlantis know they were here, and if they realized it, would know what direction to look for them in.

As the wormhole whooshed into existence, the guards ushered them forward and they stepped through the gate, heading to another planet, another place.

It was dark then they stepped through, the sense of foreboding thick. There were still fires burning, dark smoke spiraling up to the sky. It smelled of death.

"Fuck. This place was just culled." John's voice was low. They heard a wail in the distance, and the Colonel immediately turned toward it. "We have to help them."

"There is nothing left," one of the guards replied, ushering John in the opposite direction.

"Someone is crying. We have to help them." John had turned again, toward the sound. "We can't just leave them here, they need help!"

Another guard replied, his hand wrapped around John's arm. "That isn't human."

Teyla could see the Colonel's eyes narrow. "That's a child crying."

"It may not be," Teyla said quietly. She was unsure herself.

His gaze shifted to her. "You know this world?"

She nodded slowly. It certainly looked familiar, but in this light it was hard to tell. "I believe I have been here before, but I could be mistaken."

"Do you know where the village would have been? We can check there for survivors."

Hesitating she looked around, trying to place bright memories with this dark place. She eventually pointed the way the guards were ushering them. "I believe it is this way."

John nodded, glancing at their guards. "If we find survivors, I am helping them."

"Won't be any." The guard was curt, dry. Teyla ached inside, wanting to run, wanting to find the survivors, but her thoughts also went to her teammates.

"The Wraith rarely ever manage to get everyone, even when they try." John's voice held the same pain she felt. "I'm not asking for much here—just let us search for survivors, and give them addresses to planets where we know they'll be taken in."

"Move it."

They started walking toward the village. "We'll help you get whatever it is we're here for, and we'll return to your ship with you. But you can't tell me you don't want to at least give these people a chance somewhere else. Odds are good any survivors will be kids hidden by their parents."

The guards ignored Sheppard, moving easily along the well-worn paths. They had been here before, it showed in their body language, their confidence. "You have been here."

She didn't get an answer either, they just continued to hike, until the smoking ruins of a village were visible beyond the rise of the hill.

She paused, drawing her breath in. It was worse than a culling. "The Wraith did not do this," she said, her voice tight.

John's frame had gone completely rigid. "You fucking bastards. This wasn't a fucking culling. You killed them."

"The Wraith leave very few behind," one of the guards said, shoving John forward, down the hill.

"The Wraith don't burn everything in sight either. They don't give a fuck about structures."

The whine of an activating stunner and a hand around her arm forced her to pause. "If I hear one more word, she gets stunned and I send Hasani back to the portal to report in to Gamba. I am certain he will be more than happy to save a day's food ration."

John's eyes narrowed, and from the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the tight curl of his fists, he was fighting his instincts hard. But he didn't say anything, just glared.

The guard nodded. "Good. You will walk down and gather everything you can salvage. We will show you where to pile it. Tomorrow morning after we have a last look through the village we will pack everything up and head back to the ship. Understood?"

John stared for a moment before giving a curt nod.

They shoved Sheppard ahead, her own guard waiting several beats before pushing her to follow. The stunner, she noted, did not get put away.

They walked into what had once been the main square. The acrid smell of burned things was strongest here. They were shown where to pile the things they had scavenged, the guards taunting John, trying to get him to speak again.

But he held his tongue. They were each paired up with a guard and then sent to scavenge, finding food, clothes, trinkets. Anything that was in fairly good condition was taken.

They hunted for hours. Teyla caught glimpses of John when they returned with their goods, and she noted a few new bruises on his face and arms, and an expression that was getting tighter, more grim, with each encounter. By the time they were allowed to stop for the day, he looked almost wild.

They were led to a large dwelling, a fire burning brightly inside already. It seemed the pirates had made themselves at home. "You did well today," one of the guards said as they paused in the main room. "You have a choice. You can eat your evening meal here in front of the fireplace, or you can eat it in your room where you will stay until morning."

John glanced at Teyla, his lips tight. He didn't make a noise.

"I believe we would prefer the privacy," she answered for them, receiving a nod in return. They were led to a small interior room—with no windows—with a small room which Teyla assumed was a closet attached.

As soon as they were locked in, John slammed his fist into the wall. She didn't think he had made a sound since that morning.

"John…please," she said reaching out to him, but he brushed her away.

He prowled the room, anger and frustration in every line of his body.

"We cannot help these people, this village. Right now we can only ensure that Ronon and Rodney stay well by doing what they ask of us."

He whirled, glaring at her for a moment before his shoulders slumped and he just sat on the floor where he was standing. It was like all the fight had just drained out of him.

"Do you think this is easy for me, to steal from these people?"

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head.

Teyla sank down, her hand gently touching the side of his face.

His eyes closed, although there was a hint of moisture at the corner of one. He didn't pull away this time.

She pulled him forward, letting his forehead rest against her shoulder, her arms wrapping around him, holding him.

He shifted so his mouth was right against her ear. When he finally spoke it was barely a whisper. "They have a guard at the door. I make so much as a peep and they've threatened to have both Ronon and Rodney killed and their heads waiting for us when we walk back through the gate."

"John…" The word was whispered and painful. She tugged him closer.

He shook slightly, his words still so soft she could barely hear them. "We found a little girl, in one of the huts. She was still alive and they just... I couldn't save her. I tried, and that's when they made the threat."

Teyla was silent, her heart breaking just a little. She held him, trying to comfort him, trying to comfort herself.

He rested his head against her shoulder, and slowly the shaking stopped. He lifted his head and gave her a look that was so tired... He tilted his head at the bed, one eyebrow going up in question.

"We should eat a little something before retiring."

He shook his head, making a face.

Teyla nodded, her expression firm. "They will take it from us if we do not. A few bites tonight, and the rest for the morning."

He eyed the meal with active distaste. Looking at her, he made a gagging motion.

She handed him a piece of bread she tore off of the end. "A few bites. You would do not less for Rodney."

He gave her a look that very clearly said he knew she was playing him, but he took the bread and nibbled on it anyway.

"Good," she said offering a weak smile. They ate in silence for several minutes before wrapping up the rest for the morning. If they were able to keep it, they would hide the rest in their room for Rodney.

With a soft sigh, John gestured to her, and then to the bed, before slouching further down onto the floor, shifting around a bit to get comfortable.

Teyla rose to her feet, tugging John with her. She had no intention of sleeping alone. "Get comfortable."

One eyebrow went up.

"Thin blankets and no fire means it will get cold. I have no intention of freezing and both of us will sleep better."

He hesitated for a moment, before nodding. He crawled into the bed, under both blankets, then held out an arm for her.

She followed right behind, letting John tug her close to his chest, spooning up behind her. It was strange to do this fully clothed—boots and all—but it was for the best. They needed the layers for warmth and both of them would sleep like this.

They moved around a bit until he draped an arm over her waist, settling her firmly against his chest. She could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck.

She missed this closeness, the comfort another provided. For as much as she knew this was the best, she was still tense. Once he slumbered she would relax.

Suddenly there was a warm breath in her ear, whispering softly. "You're going to have to relax if we're going to get any sleep."

"I know," she replied, her voice just as quiet.

"If you want to try a different way to share the bed..."

She shook her head. "Just…" She sighed. "I am simply remembering when I had someone to share a bed with. It has been…some time."

He was quiet for a moment. "You mean you and Ronon aren't..."

"No," she said, elbowing him. "What made you think—"

He oofed, then moved so his mouth was back near her ear. "I just assumed you were. You guys do the eye-fuck thing a lot. I didn't say anything because, well, pot, kettle, but also because I figured you would tell me when you wanted me to know."

"There is nothing to tell," she said, settling back into place.

"You'd make a cute couple."

"I thought we were sleeping."

"I could pass him a note after class for you." She could hear the smile in John's whisper, and recognized that he was trying to distract them both enough to be able to sleep.

"I was not suggesting I required anything, merely that it had been some time since I had an evening companion."

"I bet he would be fantastic in bed. Wild."

"And how would you know?"

She could almost feel the embarrassment coming off him. "Just a guess."

"Uh huh," she said, shifting back into him.

He huffed a chuckle, gave her a slight squeeze, then settled down.

Teyla felt herself drifting off to sleep a few minutes later, warmth surrounding her. They would get through this and would come out stronger for it.

***

His chant had become a mantra sometime in the middle of the morning. Wide open space, wide open spaces…

Rodney rubbed a shaking hand across his forehead, before digging back into the engine housing, trying to adjust some of the conduits that had been damaged—overloaded, blown to bits, take your pick—during their last encounter with something, someone.

He was tired, half out of his mind, and desperately hungry. They'd only been giving him enough food to keep him conscious, which meant that his attention span was somewhat shorter than normal and he was continually nauseous and shaky. He hated his body. He hated these people. He hated being the weak one.

He vaguely wondered if it was time for him to take himself off the team, to stay on Atlantis and let other people, more qualified people go off-world.

Taking a deep breath he tried to focus, tried to get back to work. He had a guard and the engineer kept an eye on him, but with the threat of the physical harm of one of his teammates hanging over his head, he wasn't going to do anything stupid. They watched him, checked his work, but more or less left him alone to do his job.

Sometimes he swore someone was talking to him and he'd glance up only to find a bored guard in the corner, looking the other way. Rodney would rub his hand over his forehead, knowing the lack of food and the small space—wide open space, wide open spaces—was starting to do something to his mind.

He didn't need the voices in his head telling him that the pirates were going to kill them. He already knew that. They'd be used until they had no more need for them and then they'd dispose of their bodies on some Wraith culled and pirate-ravaged planet where they'd be forgotten.

Rodney could sometimes even picture the village where they'd be left. Dark smoke spiraling up to the sky as Wraith darts screamed toward the gate, the planet's inhabitants silent in death or culled for a later feeding.

It doesn't have to end that way.

Rodney picked up his head again, glancing around. The voices were getting clearer. It only meant he really needed to eat.

Well, I'll give you that. Can you eat seed? I'll share.

Seed? He leaned back so he could see out of the opening, squinting toward the bird. God. He was anthropomorphizing the bird now. He was really starting to lose it.

Really. If this is how you treat everyone who offers you help, it's a wonder you have any friends at all.

Rodney pressed the palm of his hand to his head, rocking back and forth a little. "I am not hearing this. I am not hearing this. This is all just a figment of my imagination." The words were whispered, harsh. He had to get back to work.

Talking out loud to yourself makes you sound crazy. You should probably just stick to thinking it. Your thoughts are loud enough for me to hear, so vocalizing it is really just a waste of effort anyway.

No. This couldn't be happening. He was not talking to the voices in his head. Shifting forward again, Rodney tried to wipe away the sweat beading near his hairline as he concentrated on the panel in front of him. Wire A…the red one…yes, the red one needed to connect…

To the blue one. Wow, you really are in a bad way, aren't you? Look, have some seed. I'll distract the goons for you—I like that word. You have a fascinating vocabulary. It's not much, but it's in my best interests to help you stay alive and coherent. I'll help you and your friends escape, but I want you to take me with you.

"Not listening. I'm not listening…" Rodney chanted quietly under his breath, the words ending in a desperate chuckle.

Look, what will it take to prove to you that I'm not a figment of your imagination? In a minute I'm going to cause a commotion. They'll be watching me, so no one will be paying any attention to you for a few seconds. Grab a handful of the stuff they feed me. It tastes horrible, but it is nutritious.

"Not listening…not listening…" he said, hiccupping a little as he finally made the correct connection, moving to the next in line. This was easy. He knew how to do this, how to make this work. He just needed to concentrate.

The bright red bird in the corner suddenly started squawking loudly, flapping around the cage. Both the guard and Essien's attention was drawn to it. "Wha'the hell's got up 'is bum? Shut up stupid bird!"

Rodney felt his eyes widen as he watched the men go take care of the squawking bird, but Rodney just sat there watching. "Coincidence. Has to be a coincidence."

Idiot. Eat while you can. I can't hold their attention much longer.

Rodney turned back to the panel, quietly breaking down in the corner because the bird was talking to him. The bird. With shaking hands he went back to work, humming to himself since it drowned out the voice, the voices.

Do you want to die? Why turn down help, even if the source isn't one you expect? I'm as much a prisoner here as you are. We can help each other. They can't hear me, and they think I'm a dumb animal. I've heard stories that there were once humans we could talk to, but you're the first I've ever encountered.

"Birds don't talk. No, no they don't. As much as I really want someone to talk to so they can take my mind off this terrible, horrible gnawing in my gut, I'm not going to talk to a bird just because the voices I'm hallucinating tell me it's okay."

The guard glanced over. "Shut up. We're not keeping you here to talk. Keep working if you want to eat tonight."

"I'm working…I just…I really don't feel good right now," Rodney said.

The guard kicked out, catching him in the leg. "You're going to feel a lot worse when we kill your hulking friend because you refused to work."

"Please," Rodney begged. "I’m working. I am. I just…I can't. Things are blurring. I don't want to mess up anything."

The guard's eyes narrowed. "Are you refusing to work?"

"No, I’m not refusing. I’m trying to tell you, you hulking behemoth, that I'm liable to screw something up if I don't eat or rest."

Careful. If you push too hard, they'll just kill your friend. The bird in the corner flapped.

"Screw up, and we'll kill all your friends while you watch."

Rodney glanced back and forth between the bird and the guard. "Please. I’m doing the best I can."

With another harsh glare, the guard tossed him what Rodney had learned was their equivalent of a PowerBar. "Keep working."

"Thank you," he whispered, his shaking fingers tugging open the wrapper. The first bite stuck in his throat, but he forced it down, knowing he needed what little energy and sustenance it provided.

That was close you know. He could have gone either way. It seems to be against your nature, but you really do need to be more careful. It worked this time, odds are good it won't next time.

Rodney ignored the voice in his head, taking another bite of the bar. One more bite and he'd save the rest for later. He'd need it.

Good thinking. Spread it out. If you hide it against your skin, under your shirt, they'll never know it's there.

He took his third bite and then folded the wrapper back, tucking it in his waistband. It would be safe there. They won't find it there. He moved back to the panel he'd been working on and rubbed a hand over his face, pulling his concentration together.

They'll see it there. They're sharper than you're giving them credit for. Look, even if I am a figment of your imagination, you know it's good advice. Maybe I'm the more rational side of you, still able to think. You can spite yourself and lose the sustenance the rest of that bar will provide you later, or you can do the sensible thing and hide it so they won't find it.

"They won't look for it." Rodney kept his voice down as he began to work, his hands a little more sure.

They will, and you'll lose it. Are you willing to spite yourself? Again?

"My shirt covers it."

And I'm telling you, they'll look for it there. You're not the first prisoner I've watched them do this to, although you are the first I've been able to warn. They won't search you completely, but they will check the obvious places.

"So where would you put it?"

You have two shirts on, right? I'm picking that up from your mind. Put it low, but under that second shirt, against your skin. They won't pat you down, but I guarantee they'll pull up your top shirt to see if it's there.

"It's low. Under my waistband. Do you want me to shove it into my boxers?"

Rodney fixed two more connections before attempting to shift the bar further down, praying it didn't just drop down his pant leg and onto the floor. That would be his luck. The one day he needed tighty-whities and he didn't have any.

Good. Look, I know it's not perfect, but this way you can keep it, and eat it later when you're starting to feel shaky again. If you need me to, I can distract them again while you do it.

Rodney chuckled to himself as he moved onto another panel, another connection. He was talking to a bird. A bird! He knew he would be spending a lot of time with Heightmeyer when they got back to Atlantis—if they got back.

You talk to technology all the time. Why is it so strange that something living besides another human could communicate with you, too?

"Because birds do not talk," Rodney whispered, connecting another disrupted circuit.

There was a rap against the side of the enclosure he was working in. "Are you talking to yourself in there? Freak."

We could play this to your advantage you know. If they think you're losing your mind, they'll stop paying as close of attention. We can figure out a way to use that to escape.

"If you decide to keep this up it'll only get worse," Rodney said a little louder to make sure the guard heard.

There was another clank, making the machine reverberate all around him. "Keep talking back, and we'll start cutting parts off your friends. They don't need all their fingers."

"I'm working! Can't you see I'm working?"

There was another kick, but no answer.

Rodney settled into a rhythm, fixing circuits and conduits, re-routing around fried areas. His concentration was back, but probably only for a short time. He needed to work when he could.

The bird was quiet, letting him work without distracting him. So it was a surprise when it finally spoke again. They're talking about stopping for the day. I heard them say two of your people are being kept on another planet tonight, but will be brought back tomorrow.

"John?"

They didn't give names. But it sounds like you and the big guy they had with you yesterday are to be brought back to the same cell as last night, and the other two were taken through the Stargate—another nice word, that's a good name for it, better than 'Ring of the Ancestors'—and will be kept there until tomorrow morning.

Rodney felt his heart stutter for a moment, but quickly pushed it aside. They'd be fine. Teyla and John would take care of each other.

They said they were being brought along on a collection mission, which means they razed some poor village, and now they're going to salvage anything useful. So as long as they don't fight, they shouldn't be harmed. These guys plan to kill you, but not yet. You have some time.

"Never enough time," Rodney muttered. "Never enough time."

No, but they aren't looking to kill you tonight. You have a few days at least.

"Need to fix this. I need to fix this," Rodney said, licking his dry, chapped lips.

You need to make progress. Once you fix it, that's when they'll kill you. Drag it out for as long as you can.

Rodney shook his head, rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead. Had to fix this. He could fix this.

You want to get out alive, you'll fix things slowly.

The voice in his head was just an annoyance now and he pushed it aside, focused on the circuits, his shaking hands making the repairs carefully. It took him three times as long to do them as it should, but he was getting it done.

A kick to the engine casing made him start. "Hey you. Time to go back to your cell. If you're lucky, we'll feed you dinner."

Rodney jumped, his body sliding to the side as he looked up at the guard. "But I'm working."

That got a snort. "Good. But I'm tired of standing here watching you. Back to your cell. We'll bring you back tomorrow."

Rodney blinked. Once. Twice. "But I'm working." He didn't understand.

"Great. We've got a cracked one." The guard grabbed him and hauled him up. "Move."

Rodney let them manhandle him up, barely waiting until he was steady on his feet before they were dragging him down the hall, the small tool still in his hands. "But I was working. You wanted me to work. I was working."

"Essien, you sure you want this crazy fuck working on the engines?" The guard ignored him, talking instead to the engineer supervising.

"The Runner claims it's the lack of food and the small space." The guy—Essien—shrugged. "I think he's making it up, but Gamba wants the engines fixed and he's doing that."

"And what Gamba wants... All right, I'll haul our handyman back to his cell. See you tomorrow."

"We have to move to the primary systems tomorrow, so it'll be up on deck four."

"Right. I'll make sure this one's fed tonight. Maybe we can get something coherent out of him instead of rambling at the damn bird."

Essien laughed. "Talking to the bird?"

"He's been rambling at it all day."

"Make sure he's fed. We can't have any issues with the primary systems."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll give 'em a full meal tonight." Rodney was given a hard tug, propelled out the door and down the hall.

Rodney perked up at the mention of a meal. "I really need to eat."

The guard didn't respond, just brought him back to the cell and shoved him inside. "Dinner will be here shortly. Try anything when it arrives, and you won't eat shit tonight."

Rodney let the momentum propel him toward the bed, dropping onto it. He turned just as the door closed, locking him in. He looked at the tool in his hand for a long moment before a nagging in his head got him to dig into his pants to pull out the half-eaten bar. Tucking both under the pillow on the bed, he laid down, curling up on his side in an effort to stop some of the shaking and the nausea.

He didn't know how much time had passed when the door opened again. "McKay. You look like shit. They brought food."

"They made me stop working."

Ronon grunted and brought a tray filled with bread and what looked like cheese and fruits. "Already tasted everything. No citrus."

Rodney pushed himself upright and leaned back against the wall, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "What?"

"You need to eat." A piece of cheese was pressed into his hand. "You're getting fuzzy. This will help."

He ate it automatically. "I talked to a bird today," he said, blinking up at Ronon. "Said the pirates are planning on killing us."

"You need more food." Something else was handed to him.

He ate silently for a while, simply chewing everything as it was handed to him. "You're being awfully nice to be."

"You're team."

Rodney shifted on the bed, tilting his head a little so he could see Ronon better. He tossed the answer around in his head for a few minutes before nodding. It made a sense even his muddled brain could figure out.

"Okay."

"Eat. Then rest."

"Are you?"

The large man held up a roll with some cheese sandwiched in, eating it in three bites.

Rodney snorted. "You'll choke like that."

"I'm fine. Eat."

"And what do I tell Teyla when she finds your dead carcass on the floor?"

"Not gonna choke."

"So you claim now. Just wait until it happens. You won't be laughing then."

"Not laughing now." He gave Rodney a slightly quizzical look.

Rodney sighed. "This is too much like work sometimes," he said, taking another bite of food. He could feel his head clearing for the first time in days.

They ate in silence for a few more minutes, by silent agreement finishing off the fruit that might go bad, and leaving a larger portion of the bread and cheese. "Need to hide this. Don't know if they'll be fed as well tonight."

Rodney nodded lifting the pillow. Huh. He tugged out both items. He remembered the bar, not the tool. "I have this, too."

A slow smile spread across Ronon's face. "Good. Hide it too. It could be useful."

"You hide it," Rodney said, handing over the tool. "I need to pee."

Ronon took the tool and it disappeared into his hair.

"Huh," Rodney said, shrugging after a moment's consideration before shoving himself off the bed. Ronon caught him as he wavered, steadying him so he could head to the bathroom and take care of business.

A quick pee and a quick wash-down with a cloth and Rodney almost felt normal—almost. When he came back out, Ronon was lounging on the floor, his eyes closed. He could have been asleep for all Rodney knew.

"Take the bed." His teammate didn't even crack an eyelid.

"I was planning on it. My back and all. I need to be able to move in the morning."

Ronon grunted.

With a quiet sigh, Rodney climbed back onto the bed, tugging the blankets up over him. He was starting to fall asleep when Ronon spoke up again.

"Don't fix the ship too fast. Need to buy us time."

"The bird said so, too."

"You didn't talk to a bird."

Rodney shrugged. "A lot's really fuzzy, but it also told me that Sheppard and Teyla weren't coming back tonight."

"You probably overheard the guards talking. That's how I knew."

"Probably." A talking bird was just silly and impossible. Rodney didn't know why he'd even brought it up.

"They'll be fine, McKay. Sleep."

Rodney huffed, but got himself comfortable. Tomorrow was another day.

***

***

John wished he could kill people with the force of his mind alone.

When they were roused the next morning, dragged out of bed, the prick who had killed the little girl was smirking at him. John knew the same rules applied—he made a noise, and his team would be slaughtered. He didn't know if Fucker A had the power to call that shot, but he couldn't take the chance.

They did another sweep of the village, then branched out, looting the surrounding area. By the day's end, he was exhausted, and seeing Teyla again, whole and healthy if worn out, was at least a little comforting. They were ordered to help gather the goods and drag it all back, through the gate, and then to the ship. Along the way he saw the footprint he had left for Atlantis was gone—he only hoped it had been his people who had found it. Considering no one had mentioned it or beaten anyone for it, there was a good chance Atlantis had been the ones to see and then erased the print.

It was getting dark by the time they were being led back to their cell from the second night. John was pretty sure Teyla had been fed today, but since Fucker A had been his guard, the man had just smiled and said John could eat when he told them he was hungry.

The cell was quiet, empty, the rest of his team somewhere else—hopefully alive. Teyla ducked into the small bathroom, cleaning up, trying to get the dirt and the stench off of her.

John dropped to the floor, pulling his knees up so he could rest his forehead against them. He didn't know if talking would still get his people hurt, so he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. He wished Rodney was here. Just seeing he was still okay would help.

A gentle hand his shoulder made him look up. "The bathroom is yours."

He debated just staying where he was, but he knew she was right—he would feel better if he got cleaned up a little. With a short nod, he pushed himself up, wandering in to relieve himself and used a small piece of cloth to wipe down most of his body. It wasn't clean, but it was better.

When he emerged, Teyla pressed a half-eaten roll with meat and cheese into his hand. "Eat."

Where the hell did that come from? He raised an eyebrow at her, but nibbled on it. He wasn't hungry, but he knew it was because he was starving, and not because he wasn't actually hungry.

He managed to finish the food and was drifting a little when the door opened, emitting a dirty, dusty Ronon.

Lifting a hand, John gave him a little wave. He was glad to see him whole and looking like he hadn't sustained any more beatings. Now if only Rodney was returned in good condition, they'd be all right, for at least another night.

He took one look at John and raised his eyebrow. "You find the food I left?"

John nodded, smiling slightly in thanks.

"Where'd you go?"

John waved a hand at Teyla.

She took the hint and picked up the thread of conversation. "We were taken off-world, to... scavenge. They had... destroyed the world before we arrived, and killed all survivors. We were brought to help them look for anything valuable that could be salvaged."

"Find anything?"

"Trinkets. Nothing to warrant slaughtering an entire people." Her voice was harsh with suppressed emotion.

Ronon narrowed his eyes, taking into account their appearance, their body language before nodding. "What I thought. What's up with Sheppard?"

"One of the guards took exception to his protests, especially when they found a young girl. He tried to plead for her life, and was told if he makes another sound, both you and Rodney would be beheaded." She made it sound so matter of fact. John sighed softly.

"They won't do that yet. McKay's been working too hard for them. They need him."

"I do not believe he wishes to chance it. The guard was...taunting him. Yesterday and today."

"They should bring him in soon. Guards said they were finishing up."

"Good. It will be... heartening to see everyone is still in good health." She smiled slightly.

"They'll bring dinner soon, too. They've been feeding McKay a little more. Need to keep him focused."

"Then they have seen it makes a difference and we are not lying to them." She sat glancing at John. He smiled a little, but he was exhausted. It took effort.

The door opened again about a minute later and Rodney was shoved through, landing on top of John.

He made an oof noise, but otherwise didn't make a sound. Instead, he cupped Rodney's face, smiling. God, it was a relief to see his lover here and whole and not dead.

"Oh, god, sorry…I’m really not good on my feet lately…trip over things…oh…hi."

John's smile got a little wider. He leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of Rodney's nose.

"You're back. The bird said you would be back today, but, well, it's a bird, so what does he know?"

John couldn't stop both eyebrows going up. O...kay. He glanced at Ronon, hoping there was an explanation.

The Runner shrugged. "You ask him."

John made a face. Asking was a little difficult right now. He looked back at Rodney, and tried to look curious.

Rodney, though, was a little oblivious. He was scooting off John—barely managing not to knee John in the balls, heading toward the bed.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, John shot Teyla a desperate look.

"Rodney…" she began, only to be cut off as Rodney began speaking again.

"Oh, god, it feels good to lie down, makes the room stop spinning, too."

That got John up and to the bed like nothing else could. Frowning, he started to run his hands along Rodney's limbs, trying to feel for damage.

Rodney batted his hands away but John could feel the shaking, the trembling that wasn't from the strain of trying to hold himself up.

Leaning close, John had to risk words. He put his mouth against Rodney's ear, breathing softly. "Tell me what's wrong."

He could feel Rodney tensing under him, shifting away slightly. "What's wrong with you? What happened?"

"I was warned against making noise, any noise. I don't know if it's still in effect, and I'm not willing to risk it." Even his soft whisper felt a little rough for a day without any use at all.

Rodney's eyes were wide, the blue surrounded by a sea of white. It took him a moment before he spoke again. "This is…side-effect of not enough food. Nauseous, hallucinations if it gets really bad…this time I’m hearing voices which is always fun but it makes the day go fast…shaking, sweating…" Rodney shrugged. "It'll get better once I eat dinner."

Sighing, John glanced up at Teyla and Ronon. He opened his mouth to ask if there was any dinner left, then closed it again, huffing in frustration. Captain Fuckwad really needed to come rescind this particular threat or John was going to lose his mind.

"They'll bring it later," Ronon said. "Did last night. Brought more than before, too."

Nodding, John moved so he was sitting beside Rodney. He was trying to figure out how to convey that he wanted an update from Ronon on what had happened while they were gone when the door to the cell clanked open, and the Captain himself strode in.

"Well, well. It seems you've all managed to survive."

John rolled his eyes.

Gamba pinned him with his eyes. "Would you like to share that thought with everyone?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, glancing at Teyla to give him an explanation.

But Gamba waved her off, his eyes on John. "Yera told me what happened and since you've helped bring back a large prize, I won't hold you to his threat. I'd just remind you to remember that what you say could still have an effect on your team."

John let out a sigh. "Whether you believe it or care, I wasn't actually irritating him for the hell of it. We found a little girl and this was my...punishment for trying to save her life."

"Yes, yes. So I was told. Do you think we have room for a sniffling child on board here? She's better off."

John was suddenly sick of this galaxy and everything it offered. "I wanted to send her through the gate to a world I knew would take her in. It wouldn't have cost him anything, and you know damn well I wouldn't have tried to escape with half my team here. But that's not really why you're here, is it?"

"No, I'm here to take your scientist to the bridge. There's some additional work I want

him to do tonight."

"You can take him, but he'll probably do more harm than good. He's hallucinating voices and can't walk in a straight line, not to mention shaking like a leaf. He needs more food than you're giving him to survive."

"He'll be fine. Right, Doctor?" Gamba said with an evil smile.

Rodney was sitting next to John, his eyes wide as he took everything in. John could see that he was a few steps behind, but quickly catching up.

"You can force him to work, but it's not going to do you much good when he starts making mistakes. And killing us won't stop it, because he'll be right behind us once his body goes into full shock."

"I have no intention of killing him. I'll make sure he gets dinner," the Captain said, gesturing for Rodney to rise. John had to help him up, one of the guards taking Rodney's arm once he was on his feet.

John watched them take his lover, mostly dragging him because he couldn't stay on his feet.

"Enjoy your evening," Gamba said, offering an insincere smile as he turned and left, the door closing and locking behind him.

Sinking back to the bed, John looked at his teammates. "Tell me one of you has an idea of how to get us the hell out of here while we're all still alive."

Teyla shook her head.

"You have the best chance," Ronon said, looking at John.

"Me? With my track record with these bastards, I'm going to get you all killed by accident."

"You and Teyla got off-world. Fewer guards than here. Get rid of them and go back to Atlantis."

"And leave you here to die?"

"Get help and come back."

Looking away, John finally nodded. "Give me one of your knives."

Ronon looked at him for a long moment before grunting, digging in his hair. He pulled out two items, handing them over to John. "McKay had this with him last night. It's a tool of some kind."

The knife John stashed in his boot. The tool... He knew the smile that curved his lips was probably anything but nice.

"Might be neater."

"I don't really care about neat. I can use this to hurt the sons of bitches."

Ronon shrugged. "Was talking about splatter. McKay tends to turn green."

"He won't be there." John tucked the small soldering laser away in his other boot. "All right, odds are good they'll take us off world again. As soon as we're through and the wormhole closes so there's no chance of calling for help, we'll take down the guards and go through to Atlantis. Get geared up, get a jumper, and hopefully be back before anyone here has had time to miss us."

Ronon nodded, Teyla matching his gesture. "McKay's been working too fast."

"He probably doesn't know half the time that he's working on enemy structures. And what the hell is going on with the parrot?"

Ronon shrugged. "He was out of it last night. Told me that the bird was talking to him."

"Great. We need to get him to Beckett as soon as possible before he completely loses his mind. With any luck we'll have a chance tomorrow."

"Think he knows it's in his head."

"I still don't like that he's hearing voices. And has decided they're coming from an alien parrot." John rubbed at his face. "I think I might have talked about pirates too much in his hearing."

Ronon shrugged.

"Perhaps it is his way of coping," Teyla said quietly.

"I'll still be a lot happier the sooner we get him out of here." John gestured at the bed. "Try to get some sleep. We both need to be ready when our chance comes up."

"Dinner's still coming." Of course Ronon was thinking about food.

John found a comfy spot of floor. "I had a little when we got back, so I'm going to try and get some sleep. Keep watch."

"Take the bed," Ronon said, settling on the floor.

"Teyla can have it. She got the short stick last night."

"McKay won't sleep with her."

"You think they'll bring him back tonight?"

"Yeah."

With a sigh, John nodded. "Wake us when they do, and we can shuffle then."

Ronon grunted and closed his eyes. Teyla settled on the floor next to the bed, her eyes on John.

"Do you always have to be this difficult? I'm trying to at least pretend to be something of a gentleman here."

Teyla smiled. "Yes."

Rolling his eyes, John fought the urge to stick out his tongue—he was older than twelve—and moved to the bed. He hoped they would bring Rodney back soon. Despite orders, he didn't think any of them would really sleep until they did.

The guards came in with dinner about half and hour later—and much more plentiful than the first two nights. After they'd eaten, leaving some for the morning and for Rodney, they settled back down to wait.

From John's estimate, it was nearly three hours when they brought him back, dumping the scientist on the floor and locking the door a beat later.

He was up off the bed and to the other man as soon as he heard the click. "Rodney?"

He groaned, trying to shove himself upright. He hissed and John saw blood in the corner of his lover's mouth. "Fine…I’m fine."

"What did they do to you?" With Ronon's help, they got his lover moved to the bed. John flashed Teyla a quick smile when the tray of food was close at hand as soon as they stopped moving.

"They have a Wraith tracker and communicator," Rodney replied, hissing a little as he leaned back.

That made all three of them suck in deep breaths. "What are they using it for? Worshippers?"

"I don't know. I was just finishing up with the repair Gamba wanted and a message came in. It was hard to miss. I might have…freaked out a little."

Quiet for a moment, John picked up a piece of food and held it to Rodney's mouth. "Nothing we can do about it right now. Everyone just needs to be doubly on guard. Try to eat as much as you can, and we'll all get some sleep."

Rodney pushed it away. "I ate."

"How much?" He did sound more coherent.

"Enough. I just want to sleep and forget everything—Wraiths, talking birds, space pirates, burnt circuits, three-legged dogs…"

"You've got a whole circus going on in that brain of yours." John gave in to temptation and brushed his lips across Rodney's forehead before popping the morsel into his own mouth.

Rodney snorted, but let his eyes drift closed. "No wonder I have a headache." He sighed, continuing a few beats later. "Explains why they can find recently culled worlds. Must have some kind of deal with the Wraith."

"As if this situation wasn't dangerous enough... Just keep up your strength and go as slow as you can on the repairs without getting yourself killed."

"I’m almost done."

"Stall then. Give us another day or two. After the ship is fixed, the reasons for keeping us all alive get a hell of a lot smaller."

"Huh. The bird told me that, too."

"Okay, you're starting to really worry me with the bird thing."

Rodney opened his eyes, looking blearily at him. John could feel the eyes of both Ronon and Teyla on them. "Why?"

"Because you're starting to blur the line between reality and your hallucinations. Come on, let's get some sleep, and hopefully there will be no more talking birds in the morning."

"Least the dog doesn't talk to me, too."

"Sleep." John firmly pushed his lover back into the bed.

"Ow ow…careful!"

"Where are you hurt?" John pushed a hand under Rodney's shirt, trying to feel for injury.

He hissed when John's hand ran over his side. "There…stop, now."

John felt carefully—nothing broken, and he didn't feel any open cuts. So probably a deep bruise. "How hard did they hit you?"

Rodney shrugged. "I was…yelling at the time."

"Ah, Rodney...." John sighed. "All right guys, we all need a good night of rest. Everyone find a spot and settle down."

"I’m not moving."

"No, you're staying there. Ronon and Teyla won't sleep on the bed because they want us to."

"Oh. Really?" Rodney opened his eyes again, glancing at his two other teammates.

Teyla laughed softly. "Yes. And John is right. You must get some sleep while you can."

"Of course, he's right. He knows my brain is very important…and my back. Are you sure you're okay with sleeping on the floor?"

She patted his shoulder, then gave John a gentle shove. "I am sure."

Rodney let John settle him, a sleepy, sad smile on his face as he just looked John over.

"Hey." John traced the line of Rodney's jaw. "Just hang on a little longer, okay? We have an idea to get us out of here, but I need you to stall for as long as you can fixing the ship when they come for you again."

"They're gonna kill us," Rodney said quietly without his usual flailing and panic.

"Yes." John let a hand settle on Rodney's chest, thumb moving in slow circles. "That's what they plan to do I'm sure. But we're not going to let that happen."

"Would certainly put a damper on whatever plans we had."

"Just trust me, okay?" John couldn't help himself, he nibbled a little along Rodney's jaw.

"I do," he said, closing his eyes and sighing quietly.

John hummed softly. They couldn't risk much here, but he had to taste. If anything went wrong...

Rodney sighed again, turning with a quiet hiss into John, burying his face in his shoulder, his arms wrapping around his body.

With another brush of his lips against Rodney's hair, pulling him close. The plan would work. It had to.

***

They came for McKay first thing in the morning, rousting him out of bed before he was even fully awake. Sheppard protested, but after a sharp look from Teyla he closed his mouth. They needed to escape and antagonizing the guards wasn't a step in the right direction.

When they came an hour later for him, Ronon went without argument, giving his teammates a nod. It said he'd keep McKay safe until they returned with reinforcements—if they were going off-world today.

It was their unspoken agreement.

They brought him down to the storage holds where he got to continue yesterday's job of heavy lifting. It was like they weren't sure what to do with him. As long as he was still on the ship and only a few decks away from McKay he'd be fine.

"Hey, you, be careful with those. You break anything, we break you, got it?"

"Not going to." He glanced over at the guard as he heaved a box into place.

He got a snort, but the guard pointed to where the box should be relocated.

Ronon moved it, stepping around a pile of crap that had to have come from the culled and pillaged world Sheppard had been to. "Where'd this come from?"

"None of your business. You're here to move it, not analyze it."

"Being friendly."

"Just move the boxes."

Ronon rolled his eyes, but fell into an easy rhythm. The guard was jumpy today, more so than yesterday.

Another guard joined the first about midday, and Ronon caught bits of their conversation. "I knew this was a bad idea from the start. They can't be trusted. First taking shots at us, and now this."

"It's bad enough Gamba made the deal in the first place," the other guard mentioned, digging through the pile in the center of the storage area.

"It might be time for a change in leadership. This is going to get us all killed or turned into snacks."

"You can't talk like that," the guard hissed. "He'll know and you'll be the one that gets left behind."

"So following blindly to our deaths is preferable? I'm not the only one thinking it. Everyone else is just too big of cowards to say anything. We shouldn't be trailing the damn Wraith around like good little pets."

"But you don't complain when it comes time to trade in the markets. We're the ones with the advantage there," he guard said, pocketing a few items. Ronon felt eyes on him for a moment, but he continued working. "Besides," the guard continued, his voice lower, "it could be worse. At least we're not going to be handed over to the Wraith."

"That you know of." The guard shook his head. "I don't like this, at all. They shot us down, and now we're giving them a tribute? A gift? It's insane."

"Hey, it's not my hide, so that's all I'm worried about. They seemed real interested in these guys so if it keeps us in their good graces until I can get out, that's fine with me."

"That's short-sighted, Gaalin. Sure, it might save our hides today, but what about tomorrow? I don't know about you, but I'd like to live long enough to spend some of this wealth."

"We're planning on a market day in a few weeks. Last until then and you can disappear."

"Right, because Gamba is so well known for just letting deserters walk away."

The other guard—Gaalin—sighed. "Look. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up. Sure, it's gotten bad, but Gamba treats us well. We live well. What more do you want?"

"I want to survive. I'm all for scavenging culled worlds, but right now we're no better than whipping boys for the Wraith, taking out worlds causing them trouble. And what do we get in exchange? We almost get blown out of the sky when one of the hives gets bored."

Gaalin shook his head, moving to the door. "You keep talking like that and Gamba will ship you out with the prisoners."

"Yeah yeah. I'll keep my mouth shut. I'm just saying, this is getting out of hand."

"It'll be different once we get rid of them."

"No it won't, and you're fooling yourself if you think it will. They're small stuff, around for a few days and then sold off. The real problems were here before them, and they'll be here after them."

"Think what you want, Maelin. Hell, do whatever you want. I know what I’m going to do."

"I know, I know. I'll keep the giant here busy for another couple of hours. Is the scientist almost done fixing the engines so we can get out of here?"

"Engines were done yesterday. Gamba and Essien have him fixing the navigation systems. Of course, Essien had to bring his stupid pets up to the bridge."

"What is it with him and those things?"

Gaalin shrugged. "I have no idea, but the scientist keeps talking to the damn bird."

"I can't believe we're trusting repairs to a crazy freak."

"He's faster and better at it than Essien on a good day. Maybe we should ask Gamba if he can change the deal and keep him around. Crazy or not, he knows what he'd doing."

"He seems pretty attached to the others. Keeping him around wouldn't be a bad deal, but we'd have to find something to keep him here."

"Not killing him?" Gaalin shrugged again. "But what are we talking about? It's not our deal or our decision."

Maelin shook his head. "I'll be up after I bring this one back to his cell."

"Yeah. I'll save you a seat."

"Thanks."

Gaalin headed out, leaving Ronon alone with Maelin. He was still arranging boxes, working constantly.

He didn't like where this was going. From the sound of it, they weren't planning on killing them outright. Instead they were going to be given to the Wraith. And Ronon couldn't imagine McKay as a Runner. He'd last all of three seconds. Sheppard and Teyla would survive for a while, but there was no way he wanted either of them living that kind of a life.

He quietly kept working, while assessing the area, putting it together with what he knew of where they were keeping McKay, and what he had learned from the first escape attempt. He knew Sheppard would order him to try and get McKay and get free as the first priority, and dying trying to escape was better than dying at the hands of the Wraith.

Ronon would give his team until the following morning. If they were still prisoners by then, he would make his move.

***

John both let out a sigh of relief and got a knot of anxiety when the guards came and informed them they would be participating in another off-world treasure hunt.

The bastard who had guarded John before was smirking. John couldn't wait to wipe it off his face.

"I'm looking forward to this trip," the guard said, his eyes focused on John. "Always good to bring back bounty."

Narrowing his eyes, John had to remind himself that picking a fight would be counterproductive for his plans for the rest of the day. It was tough to hold back though.

"What? Does the lambertt have your tongue or something?"

"My mother taught me 'when you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.' It's admittedly hard when dealing with pricks, but I try."

The guard straightened, his eyes narrowing. He might not understand the reference, but he knew it was an insult. He gestured for John to move. "We're wasting time."

With a smirk, John sauntered out. He had been walking the line between irritating and worth disciplining for half his career—this guy was a joke compared to some officers he had served under.

There were only three guards that went with them this time—the prick and his two buddies. That, of course, evened the odds a little.

John played nice, doing as he was told. He had to get him and Teyla through the gate and get the wormhole closed before they could strike. They couldn't give the game away early. He bit his tongue to keep silent.

But on the way to the gate, when the prick grabbed Teyla, John had to hold himself back.

"I could think of a lot more fun things we could be doing," he said, his tone and his body language leaving nothing to the imagination.

"You try it with her, and you won't be capable of having a good time anymore. She's being polite right now, but she could probably de-man you with her bare hands." John would fight now, if he had to. He wasn't going to let Teyla be raped. Period.

The guard didn't let go, but Teyla was shooting John a look to back down. "Perhaps another time would be more prudent."

Curling his hands into fists, John glared. He hoped this was just another attempt to goad him. If it wasn't...

"Nice and quick," the guard said, leering.

Teyla merely offered a tight smile. "Tonight would be more appropriate."

"Don't we have a quota or something we have to make today? Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the boss." Keeping his voice level wasn't easy.

"He gives us some leeway. We'll make our quota. This place is loaded."

"But you never know what can happen off-world. Better safe than sorry, right?"

The guard snorted, turning to glare at John before shoving Teyla forward. "Are you looking for trouble? Or maybe you're interested in a little piece of the action of your own. We already know you like boys."

He would rather have the focus on him than Teyla, so John just raised an eyebrow and cocked his hips. "Are you offering?"

"For a piece of your ass? Maybe."

"Come see me tonight then. Maybe I'll be feeling generous."

"Nothing about generous. If I want it, I'll have it," the guard said, gesturing for John to move ahead of him.

"Ah, but sex with a willing partner is always more enjoyable than forced." John took a deep breath and deliberately let his walk turn seductive, feeling the hot gaze of the bastard on his ass. He was a little disturbed by how much he was looking forward to killing him.

"I’m not so sure about that. It's usually better to have them squirming under your hand, taking what you want."

"If you believe that then you haven't been playing the right games."

"I've played all the games."

Glancing back, John smirked. "Somehow I doubt that, if force is your preferred method."

"Trust me," the guard said smiling evilly. "It's the best way."

John was very, very glad they weren't planning on being around tonight. Ending a day with rape and probably being gang-banged wasn't his idea of a good time.

They moved silently the rest of the way to the gate, one of the guards standing before the DHD in a way so that John couldn't see the address.

A few beats later and the gate was active, his guard gesturing them forward with his stunner. "And don't think of trying anything."

"Would I do that?" John repressed a shudder as his ass was groped.

"Yes, you would, but I think I'm looking forward to tonight."

He wasn't expecting it, so John wasn't prepared when his guard suddenly grabbed him, pulling him in to a harsh kiss and biting his lip. He couldn't help it, he fought it, only to be shoved away. Panting, he glared, only to receive his own damn smirk back in response. Oh, yeah. He was going to really enjoy killing this fucker.

"See. So much better." The guard chuckled, shoving John forward. The other two guards had gone on ahead, Teyla following closely behind.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, John glared again as he straightened and stepped through the gate.

As soon as he stepped through on the other side, John noted that Teyla was already moving into position, getting up close to the other guards.

Perfect. John moved aside, as he had on the last planet, waiting for his guard to follow him. When the other man stepped through the gate, John dropped to one knee, pretending to adjust his shoe so he could get to the weapon concealed there as he waited for the wormhole to shut down.

The guard was lazy, thinking with his already hard dick.

A few beats later and the wormhole closed with a snap-hiss. The guard never heard the laser sealer come on.

John didn't move to kill—a quick death would be too good for him. Instead, he took him by surprise and disarmed him, tossing the stunner to Teyla who had surprised the other two. She subdued them while John focused on his 'admirer'. With narrowed eyes, he used the laser to cut off the limb the prick had been planning to use on John later. He wouldn't need it anymore.

While the guard was screaming in pain and shock—lasers were great for cauterizing wounds—John stalked around him.

"You like pain, like forcing people to your will, hmm? How do you like it from this end you sick fuck?"

The man couldn't even form sentences, let alone say any words, still clutching himself—or his lack thereof.

It was only the fact that he always kept a part of himself tuned in to his teammates in the field no matter what was going on that he didn't lash out when someone touched his elbow.

"John, we have incapacitated them. It is…enough."

Taking a few deep breaths, John forced the anger aside. Now wasn't the time. "We need to secure them so there's no chance of them getting through the gate to warn the others."

"I have secured the other men." She offered John a coil of rope.

"Killing him would be more efficient." He didn't usually like death, or being the cause of it. But after the torment of the first trip and then the promised rape on this one... he wanted this man dead so he couldn't hurt anyone again.

"John." It was only one word, but it was enough.

Flipping off the laser, he closed his eyes and nodded once. "Tie him up and we'll put him with the others."

Teyla nodded, moving forward. Ignoring the cries from the guard, she quickly bound him—hands behind his back, ankles secured together and then tied to his wrists in a hogtie. She added a loop around his neck as an afterthought. "Any effort at struggling to free themselves will prove to be…difficult."

Looking down at the prick—well, prickless now, and the thought gave John a fierce sense of satisfaction, followed by shame, both for doing it and then not regretting it. "You're lucky you're not dead. But if I ever see you again, I will rectify that."

"You…you…bastard," the guard spit, tears of pain rolling down his face.

Leaning down, John smiled a bit meanly. He was pretty sure he was going to hate himself for this later, but right now he didn't care. "I thought you liked using force to get what you want. Kinda sucks to be on the receiving end, doesn't it?"

"You fucking bastard. You won't get away with this."

"I could just kill you now."

"You are a dead man."

John pulled the regular knife from his other boot, making sure the other man saw it.

"Fucking bastard," he hissed. "Gamba won't let you get away with this."

"Gamba's not going to live long enough to be able to do anything about it." Teyla's touch on his arm again made John lick his lips and stand up, putting away the knife.

"We must go," she said quietly, brandishing one of their stunners. "I will see to the men."

He stared at his former guard a little longer, then nodded, turning away. "I'll dial home."

"Do you have a GDO?" she asked, the words stopping him.

"No." He rubbed his face. "I'll dial the alpha site. We can go through there, and they have one."

Her face was hard, but understanding. She was trying to get him thinking straight. He had to get his mind on the mission. If he didn't, he might end up killing them all.

John turned his back to Teyla, heading to the DHD. Even before he started dialing, he heard three shots from the stunner and then a quiet hum of accomplishment.

Nodding, he took a deep breath, forcing aside the anger that had overtaken him. The combination of his frustration at getting taken prisoner again, at being taunted and threatened, having his team beaten... it was no excuse and he knew it. But he could wallow in self-recrimination later. Right now he had a job to do. Dialing the alpha site, he glanced over to see if Teyla was ready.

She was standing beside him, her back straight, her "game face" on. Vaguely John realized that this was affecting her as much as it was him. "They will not follow us."

"Good." Reaching out, he squeezed her arm once. "We've repaid these... pieces of scum for their parts in killing innocent people. Let's go get our team and go home."

"They will only repay that debt when they are dead," she said tightly as the wormhole sprung to life.

Looking at her, he nodded. "But having their blood on our hands won't make us any better than they are. As much as I really want to hurt them... Right now I just want to get Ronon and Rodney and go home."

Teyla was silent as she stalked to the gate, stepping through without a second glance behind, knowing John would follow her.

Glancing back one more time at the unconscious guards, John took a deep breath, and followed her through. They were both probably going to need to see Heightmeyer when this was over.

As soon as he was on the other side, he was surrounded by his men.

"Colonel Sheppard! What happened? Major Lorne's been searching for you ever since you missed your check in," the young sergeant said, his eyes wide as he looked them over, probably taking in their rough and dirty appearances. "And where's the rest of your team?"

"It's a long story, Sergeant. The rest of my team is still in captivity. I need you to dial up Atlantis so we can brief Elizabeth and Lorne and put together a rescue team."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," he said, gesturing for another of the gawking Marines to dial the gate. He needed to train these men again if he got this kind of reaction to a surprise visit.

He added it to his mental 'to-do' list and borrowed one of their radios as the wormhole engaged. "Atlantis this is Sheppard from the Alpha site requesting permission to enter the city."

It was a few moments before the response came back. Elizabeth. "John? What are you doing at the Alpha site?"

"Sir, the code's been sent through. You're clear to go," the sergeant said quietly.

John nodded at his Marine, responding to Elizabeth. "We were stripped of our gear, including our GDOs. I'm coming through now."

"I'll have Major Lorne meet us in the conference room. Atlantis out."

John stepped through, immediately getting flooded with the awareness of his city. It was comforting, and washed away some of the lingering anger tinting his thinking. He strode straight to the conference room, knowing Teyla was right behind him. "I still have two team members in captivity, Elizabeth. I'll give you a short briefing now, but then I'd like to put together a rescue team in jumpers to retrieve them. We have a short window before they realize Teyla and I escaped, and I don't want to blow it."

Elizabeth's face was open, showing her surprise at his words and her relief that they were there. Lorne ran into the room only a few seconds later.

"Sir, we've been looking—"

He sat down, knowing he had to be more coherent if he wanted to get this done quickly. "Sorry, it's been a long couple of days, and it isn't over yet. When we stepped through the gate, Rodney picked up strong power signatures the MALP had missed. We went to check it out and found a space-capable ship crawling with an unknown force. We attempted to withdraw, but they have some sort of personal cloaking technology and captured us. We subsequently discovered that they are space pirates, and they were shot down by the Wraith.

"They've had Rodney fixing the ship, and the rest of us...running errands. I can brief you more on that later. For now, all that's really important is that they were sending Teyla and I off-world to scavenge for them. We used the opportunity to take out our guards and escape. We were expected to stay overnight, but I don't know if they were checking in regularly. For now, we have a small window where the main ship won't know we've escaped, so we can get in to retrieve Rodney and Ronon, who are still there."

"A ship, sir? We've been back to the planet and haven't seen anything. No energy reading, no ship, no nothing."

"They got the cloak working somewhere on the second day. Our LSDs can't pick up their lifesigns either, when they have either the larger one for the ship or their smaller, personal versions engaged. When we were first captured, I tried to see if it was possible to negotiate and get one of them, but they turned out to be... unenthusiastic about the idea."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Do you have a plan in mind?"

He nodded. "I want to take in three cloaked jumpers of Marine strike teams. Two teams will go in for our people, while the third stays in the area as support if it becomes necessary. Ideally, we'll get in, quietly take out anyone we encounter, get our people, and get out before an alarm goes up."

Elizabeth nodded, curtly. "Will three be enough?"

"They have more men than we do, and they're more likely to throw lives away to win if we turn it into a battle. I'm hoping a smaller team can get in and out before that becomes an issue. However, the third team will remain in touch with Atlantis, with the authorization to call for more men if the situation is escalating out of control."

"You know where the ship is, sir?" Lorne asked.

He nodded. "Yes. They can't take off yet because the engines are still down. Teyla and I made the trek from the ship to the gate several times, so we know exactly where it is."

Lorne nodded. "Good. I'll get the Marines geared up. You want Beckett along in the third jumper?"

John hesitated, then shook his head. "No, let's leave him here on alert. Last I saw my team no one was so bad they would need emergency care, and I'd rather not risk him if we don't have to. McKay wasn't being fed enough and was being forced to work in a small space though. He was hallucinating voices, so I'd rather have Beckett here ready to receive him."

Lorne's eyes widened and John heard Elizabeth's in-drawn breath. "We'll, make sure Carson's ready for you," she said a moment later.

Lorne nodded. "Give me fifteen minutes and we'll be set."

"Good." John gave them both a tired smile. "Teyla and I need to get geared up again, and we'll meet you in the bay. I'll lead one team, and she'll lead the other since we have at least some knowledge of the layout of the ship. Lorne, I want you to remain in the third jumper leading the back-up team."

"Sir, it would be better for me to be with you or Teyla if you need to go on the ground. You're exhausted, sir, and need a good pilot."

John held his second's gaze for a moment. "If you can provide me with an acceptable alternative to lead the third team by the time I get to the bay, I'll consider it. But I will be flying one of the jumpers, and I will be leading the effort. Tired or not, that's my team, and I'm the only one besides Teyla who has some idea of what we're going in to."

"No disrespect intended, sir," Lorne said, straightening up, "but I don't think that's a good idea. I'll take jumper one and have Abrams and Peterson as pilots for two and three. You can take the lead for strategy and direction."

"You can come along as my co-pilot, Lorne, but I'm flying jumper one."

"No, sir, you're not." He stood straighter, crossing his arms over his chest.

John stood up, not backing down. "That's not your call, Major."

"Actually, John, it is." Elizabeth's voice was quiet, but it cut through the tension like a newly-sharpened knife.

He didn't look back, but his lips tightened. "We don't have time for this. I'm fine, and half my team is still out there. You can relieve me of duty when this is over if you feel you need to, but this isn't the time."

"It's SOP, John, and you know it. Let Lorne take the lead and go get your team. No one's stopping you from going."

He really hated it when Elizabeth felt the need to undermine him. He liked her a lot, but times like this he hated her a little. Especially when he was making an effort not to be unreasonable. "Fine. I don't have time to argue with you. You're losing time, Major. You now have ten minutes to gear up and meet me in the bay."

"We'll be ready in five," he said with a nod, already heading out the door. He tapped his radio on the way. "Search teams one, two, and three report to the jumper bay. Five minutes."

When the major left, John looked back at Elizabeth. "We can talk about this once my team is back safely."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said firmly. "It's standard procedure. You've been gone for days. And I'm not trying to undermine your authority. You need to remember that you're not the only one who wants to get Ronon and Rodney back, John. We've been looking for days. Lorne has several contingency plans already in place and he's ready to go. Let him do his job."

He nodded shortly. "Fine. When I get back, I'll give you a more complete briefing."

Elizabeth nodded and offered a smile. "Bring them home."

He gave her another short nod and headed out, detouring to the armory to gear up. Already plans and ideas and contingencies were forming in his head, as he tried to come up with every possible scenario he could think of, along with a way to counter it.

The jumper bay, when he arrived, was swarming with Marines. It looked like Lorne had set up eight per jumper and a small armory on each of them. Elizabeth wasn't kidding when she said that Lorne had plans in place.

Perfect. He went to Jumper One, after assigning Teyla to Jumper Two as that team's strike leader. Moving to the front, he actually wasn't really thinking about it, or trying to be mulish, when he dropped into the pilot's chair and started the preflight, his mind several steps ahead already.

"Sir, if you don't mind, you're in my seat," Lorne said quietly.

"Hmm?" John split his attention between the other man and the jumper systems.

Lorne gestured to the empty co-pilot's seat. "Your seat awaits."

Looking up, John caught Lorne's gaze. He wanted to push it, needed to be the one flying.

"Sir." John could hear the sentences left unsaid. Don't make a scene. Don't be stupid. Let me help. Let me do my job.

Biting back a sigh, John rose and moved to the other chair. Keeping his voice pitched low, John stared out the front window. "I'm still calling the shots. I'm still leading the team in. I might be tired, but I have knowledge of their systems, personnel, and the layout of the ship, and you don't."

Lorne slid into the pilot's chair, the HUD automatically activating for him. "I’m not arguing that, sir. But you can focus all your attention on strategy and let me do the physical part. If you can link into the HUD as well, that would help."

Snorting, John did, letting himself sink into the systems. He couldn't help the flare of satisfaction when the ship, recognizing him, started to give him full control despite not being the designated pilot. It was kind of nice to know his favorite jumper liked him best too.

Lorne sighed. "Sir, I don't want to fight you."

"I didn't do that on purpose, Major." John let his lips curve into a slight smile, then nudged the jumper, telling it Lorne was going to be flying this time out.

It took a few seconds before the jumper switched over and Lorne offered John a smile and nod before pressing the radio. "Jumpers prepare for launch. We'll cloak as soon as we're through. Three remain in position at the gate once we're through. Two, you'll follow me in."

Acknowledgements echoed through the cockpit as the rear hatch closed.

"Launch to jumper one, you are clear for departure. The gate is dialed and you're ready to go."

"Acknowledged, flight. Jumpers one, two and three are ready to depart."

And before John knew it, they were lifting off. Talk about a fast pre-flight. No wonder Elizabeth said Lorne had things under control.

As soon as they were through, John brought up a map, highlighting the area where the ship was located. "Jumpers, you should be receiving telemetry data now. The highlighted location is where teams one and two will be going in."

The acknowledgements came quickly over the radio and Lorne was already heading to the location, his flying tight, sharp.

John was already tensing up, adrenaline washing away his exhaustion. "The enemy has cloaking devices, both for their ship and for their personnel. Everyone stay sharp—the LSDs won't pick them up if they're cloaked, so you're going to have to rely on your other senses for this one."

"Sir," Lorne said, his voice strange. "I'm getting an energy reading."

Snapping back into focus, John saw what he did. "Fuck. Rodney must have repaired the engines enough to get the damn thing off the ground."

It was strange. One second there was nothing and then the ship appeared—the huge ship, already several hundred feet off the ground.

"Fuck fuck fuck." John stared at it. If it got out of the atmosphere, it would be gone. He closed his eyes briefly. He knew the call he had to make, and he hated it, hated that it had to be him who gave the order. "Shoot it down. Try to aim to disable not destroy. Don't let it leave this planet."

Lorne's voice was tight. "Weapons controls are transferred to you, sir."

John shoved down his anguish. Even if they kept the ship on the ground, the odds of both his teammates making it out of this unharmed, much less alive... "Targeting online. Jumper One, firing."

The drone streaked away from the jumper, heading to the pirates ship. John kept it on target as Lorne stayed with the ship, pacing it as jumper two swung around to the other side.

He scored a direct hit—apparently the ship had a cloak, but the shield was still down. John targeted again, firing another drone. "Jumpers Two and Three, fire at will. Suspected vulnerable areas should be coming up on your HUDs now."

"Sir, hang on, I'm getting sensor reports of secondary explosions," Lorne reported. "Ship's losing altitude."

John nodded. "Jumpers, hold your fire." Staring at the HUD, he kept himself focused on the task at hand, not letting himself think beyond it.

The second drone scored another hit, deep on the side, burrowing into the ship. John watched at it began to list to the side, struggling to stay up.

Swallowing hard, John watching as several parts of the ship exploded, and the whole thing crashed back to the ground hard. When he spoke again, he was surprised his voice was steady. "Teams one and two, prepare to land and infiltrate. We find our people and get out. Assume hostile activity and take the necessary steps."

Acknowledgements came quickly and Lorne was landing even faster, getting as close as he dared.

Rising, John glanced at Lorne. "Someone needs to stay with each Jumper to be prepared for a quick evac. And it's not going to be me."

"The pilots will stay with the other jumpers. Harrison will remain here with jumper one."

"Fine." Moving to the back, John stepped out, tightening his grip on his P90. "We're not here to cause a slaughter—shoot to disable when possible, deadly force is a last resort. Our objective is to retrieve both our missing personnel and get out. Team two, you're going after Ronon. We'll go after McKay."

Abrams' second, Weller, gave John a quick "yes, sir", appearing out of the cloaked jumper a few beats later followed by six Marines and Teyla.

John nodded, taking in all his men. "I want check-ins with Jumper Three from both teams every five minutes. Get in, get out, do it fast."

After nods all around, John headed in, running toward the smoking ship. The ground was torn up, the nose of the ship dug in deep. It would be hell moving around in there.

He slowed once they were inside, letting his eyes adjust. He pointed the direction they wanted to go, letting Lorne take point. They encountered several of the pirates, but the encounters were short and easy. They got through two check-ins before they made it to the area where he hoped they would find Rodney.

The engine room was a disaster. Several men had been in the section when the drones had hit, all of them caught in the explosions of the panels in the room. One was still breathing, but that wasn't for long.

John felt like all his emotions were completely dead. He surveyed the bodies impassively, and refused to let the relief that none of them were wearing an Atlantis uniform break free.

He gestured for Lorne to head back out. A burst from the second team reported finding Ronon—battered and bloody and unconscious—in the storage rooms below decks.

John swallowed his anger and fear for his teammate, calmly telling them to get him and get out. "My team is heading to the bridge area. Other than the engine room, that's where they had McKay working."

"We shall bring Ronon to the jumper," Teyla said, her voice tight.

"Good. Get him in and head back to Atlantis. Jumper Three will wait for us to retrieve McKay and can provide assistance if necessary. Get him home, Teyla. Beckett is waiting."

"Yes, sir," came the response from Abrams, listening in from the jumper.

John returned his attention to his own team. "Let's move out."

Lorne shifted to let John lead the way. "You know where you're going, sir."

Without a word, John took point, slowly making his way back to the bridge, where he had first met with the Captain. God, he hoped Rodney... But he wasn't going there. Not yet. He had a mission to complete first.

They moved up a few decks, meeting far less pirates the further they moved into the ship. It seemed that they were getting out when they could. Every man for himself. The deck plating angled downward, the nose of the ship buried into the landscape.

As they got closer to the bridge, the buckling of the metal was more evident, the smoke thicker, electrical fires burning throughout the corridors and rooms.

God, god, what had he done? John shoved the thought down again—he was going to be a wreck later with all this repression he knew—and kept moving. Finally, they came to the bridge doors, two Marines prying it open while John and Lorne stood at the ready.

Whatever electronic systems on the sip were long since fried. Smoke billowed out as soon as the doors were open an inch. Muscle and determination got the doors open, one millimeter at a time.

But there was noise. The rustle of fabric, a suppressed cough. Someone was there.

John moved in slowly, gun first. Visibility was almost nothing, so he used the sound of the coughing to guide him.

He almost tripped over the person—one of the bridge crew—fabric pressed over his nose and mouth. "Help us, please."

The urge to leave them to die was strong, but John's conscience kicked in. "Can you walk?"

The pirate nodded, but groaned when he tried to push himself up. Lorne moved in close behind John. "We'll get him out."

After a brief hesitation, John nodded. "How many people were up here when you crashed?"

"Ten or so. Couldn't get out. Door was stuck."

John gave another curt nod. "We'll help any survivors. Jenkins, Murphy, stay with him. Everyone else, fan out to search the deck for survivors. Shout out once every minute or so as to your status."

They moved out and less than a minute later John heard the first report.

"Dead."

It was quickly followed by four others.

Chest tight, John called out his own "Dead" as he stumbled over a pirate.

Six dead. One alive. They weren't good odds.

"Sir! Found him." That was Lorne.

"Status?" He braced himself for the worst.

"Under some debris. I have a leg." John heard the groan of metal as Lorne shifted it.

"Peters, take up the search for survivors from here. I'm going to assist Lorne."

"Yes, sir," the young man said, moving past John.

"Have another one here, sir. Unconscious."

"Get him to the entry point. We'll move everyone out together." John responded, finally getting to Lorne. Together they pulled Rodney free, and with hands that only shook a little, he checked for a pulse.

Rodney shifted under him, his eyes blinking open as soon as John's hand touched his skin. "What?" He was dirty and bloody—a head wound up near his hairline was the culprit for that, but he was alive.

Alive, alive alive. Oh thank god... John forced himself to focus again. "Come on, McKay, time to go home. Can you stand?"

"What? Someone fired on us. Bird yelled at me to move, to hide under the console. Where is it? I have to bring him."

Blinking, John exchanged a worried look with Lorne as they hauled Rodney to his feet. Thankfully, his lover seemed to be more or less whole, other than the cut. "I had to fire on the ship to keep it from taking off. Come on, we need to get you out of here and to Beckett."

"Nononono, wait. I need to find the bird. I promised him I'd bring him with us."

"There isn't a bird, Rodney. It's just a hallucination." John tried to steer him in the direction of the door, but the other man broke free.

He lurched to the side, Lorne managing to keep him on his feet. But he shoved the Major away, his hands digging at another section of the ceiling that had collapsed. "I'm coming. I know you're there. Give me a minute."

"Rodney..." John followed him, pulling up short a moment later when a bright red bird worked its way out of the area Rodney had cleared. "Holy shit, there is a bird!"

Rodney glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glazed but focused. "Of course. Did you think I was making it up?"

"You were a little...out of it." John helped him clear the rest of the debris so the animal could get completely clear.

It walked up Rodney's arm, settling on his shoulder. "Okay," the Canadian said with a nod. "We can go."

Fighting the urge to make another comment, John turned back to the task at hand. "All right, everyone reconvene at the entry point. We're moving out."

After a series of "yes, sirs", John and Lorne headed to the door, steadying Rodney as they went.

"No, it'll be fine. Trust me," Rodney said quietly, his head turned toward the bird.

"Rodney?"

"What?" he said, turning to look at John. "He's worried about leaving Essien, but I think he's dead."

Okay, now was not the time to get into a debate about it. John decided to humor his lover until Beckett could look at him. "There were only two survivors we could find. I don't know if your Essien is one of them, but if he is, my men have him. We're getting both men we found outside."

Rodney turned to the bird. "See, I told you it would be okay, that John would come back for us…okay, come back for me, but I promised you I'd bring you with so it's the same thing."

Feeling a little silly, John looked at the thing on Rodney's shoulder. "Um, Bird? We need to get out of here, and I need Rodney's concentration. So if you could...not talk to him until we're outside? I'd appreciate it."

Oddly enough, John swore he heard the bird say he would. Rodney just scowled at him.

Shaking his head, John returned his attention to his lover. "The going is a bit difficult, and we're still technically in enemy territory. Stay in the middle of the group."

"Do you think I’m stupid? I have no intention of staying behind."

"I wasn't suggesting that, McKay." John moved forward, taking point again. "All right. Let's get the hell out of here."

They moved out quickly—or as quickly as they could with two pirates and Rodney and a hard climb uphill.

Not to mention Rodney's parrot.

Finally John saw daylight. "Jumper Three, this is Sheppard. We're in sight of the exit. Jumper One, as soon we we're on board, take off and everyone head for home."

"Jumper two is ready to go."

"Head home Jumper Two. Jumpers One and Three won't be far behind."

"We'll wait. Some of the pirates have been…enthusiastic."

"Attacking the jumpers?"

"Just watch yourself as you leave, sir," Abrams said. "Jumpers are clear so far."

"Understood. Sheppard out." He looked at his Marines. "The other teams are reporting heavy activity on exiting. Be prepared to use necessary force to get us back to the jumper."

His men acknowledged the comment with nods, the ones with their hands free of bodies, moving forward.

"John? Can we go home already? I'm getting really sick of the smell of this ship."

"Yeah, me too, Rodney. Let's get out of here." They moved cautiously, subduing a few pockets of resistance as they went. They left the two pirates they had rescued from the bridge at the exit, and he was beginning to think it was almost too easy when the Captain himself was suddenly in their path, surrounded by probably fifteen men.

"So this is how you thank me," he said, glowering down at John.

Moving to the front of the group, John glared. "Thank you? For what, threatening my team, beating them, and making it pretty clear you planned to have us killed when we ceased being useful? Did you really think I would just roll over and accept that?"

"For bringing you into our fold, our family."

Raising both eyebrows, John shook his head. "You didn't make us family, we were prisoners. In fact, when I tried to deal with you, you shot me down. Step aside and let us pass—we haven't been killing your men, and your ship is damaged, not destroyed. Stand down and we can part as uneasy allies instead of enemies."

"You're not leaving with him." Gamba pointed at Rodney. "He stays."

"No, he doesn't."

"Essien's dead. I need him."

"You can't have him. He's mine."

The sound of stunners warming up surprised all of them—especially Gamba and his men. "Move out of their way," came the order from Teyla. "We will shoot you if you do not move."

John smirked slightly. "You aren't the only one who knows how to move quietly in a forest. Stand aside Gamba. You've lost this round."

John saw Gamba start to move, but Lorne was faster, his P90 aimed over John's shoulder. "I wouldn't if I were you."

John stepped forward once, twice, until he was almost on top of the captain. "I'm coming through."

Gamba smiled, his mouth twisted as he stepped to the side. "Go ahead, Colonel."

Knowing his men were all on high alert, John kept his eyes on Gamba, but addressed his men. "Move out."

A few moved past, Rodney among them, helped along by Lorne. It was the squawk of the bird that told John they were in trouble. One of Gamba's men had grabbed Rodney as he was passing by, dislodging Lorne and the bird as an arm wrapped around the scientist's neck.

The cock of guns and stunners was loud. "Let him go."

"I said he wasn't going with you," Gamba said evenly.

"And I said that wasn't an option." John narrowed his eyes, bringing his own P90 to bear on Gamba. "Order your men to release him or this is going to get bloody."

It was the bird that tipped the scales, launching itself at Gamba, beak aiming for the soft part of his eye.

John swore someone said, "Stop it! You're hurting him!" but he couldn't be sure.

Instead, he took advantage of the distraction, trusting Lorne to free Rodney while he took Gamba down. Putting a knee in the middle of the man's back and the barrel of his gun against his head. He carefully lowered his free hand to the bird, letting it hop on and then moving it to his own shoulder. "Lorne, do you have McKay?"

"Affirmative, sir," Lorne said, McKay's hacking cough a moment later coming from several feet in front of John a confirming sound.

"Take three of the men and get him to the jumper. The rest of you, keep your weapons trained on the enemy. They so much as twitch, shoot to kill."

John heard Lorne ordering two men to accompany him and then they moved off, leaving John with the rest of the Marines and the pirates.

He waited until he had confirmation that they were back at the jumper before doing anything else. "Well, Gamba? What's it going to be? Am I going to have to kill you to leave? Because if I let you up and you try anything else, you're dead."''

"You're going to be a wanted man, Sheppard. Doesn’t matter either way. You fucked over the wrong people."

"I'm already a wanted man, by a lot of different people. And might I remind you—you started this little fight. I tried to leave, and then I tried to negotiate so we could be allies. It wasn't until you decided to turn me and my team into slaves until you could kill us that our relationship soured."

"So you say."

"That's how I read the situation, Gamba. If you had something different in mind, you should have spoken up when you had the chance instead of ordering my team beaten, and threatened to kill them if we stepped out of line."

"You just don't understand how things work here, Sheppard. And you never will. Kill me or don't kill me. Up to you."

"Maybe not, but then, you never gave me the chance, did you?" John stood up, backing away but keeping his weapon steady. "You'll find the men sent through the gate to guard Teyla and I tied up nearby. One of them needs... medical attention. If you decide being my ally is worth more than holding a grudge—and I promise you it is—then maybe we'll meet again.

"Oh, we'll meet again, Sheppard," Gamba said, shifting so he was sitting up. There was blood dripping down his cheek from where the bird had made contact. "Count on it."

"When we do, just remember that I could have destroyed your ship and killed most, if not all of your men, and I chose not to." He gestured to the Marines to form up. "Jumper Three, this is Sheppard. We're heading back, cover our retreat."

"What about the injured ones, sir?" One of the Marines asked quietly.

"Their people can take care of them. If anyone asks for sanctuary we'll provide it. Otherwise, we've fulfilled our duty getting them free of the damaged areas."

It was uneventful the rest of the way to the jumpers, the men from Jumper Two heading there with Teyla as soon as John stepped inside his own jumper. Rodney was seated in the back, one of the Marines helping him to sit upright, carefully checking the cut on his head. Lorne was at the controls, waiting for the last of the search team to step on board. As soon as the last set of booted feet hit the inner compartment, the door was closing and they were on their way.

"Jumper One, to Jumper Three. We're headed out. Dial the gate. Plan C."

John moved to the co-pilot seat, ignoring the looks from the men at the bird still perched on his shoulder. "Plan C?"

"Transfer through a deserted planet before heading to Atlantis. I don't want them following," Lorne said as he brought the HUD up, checking on jumper two behind them.

"Good call. As of now, I'm officially handing off command of this mission to you Major. Get us home." He slumped into the seat, closing his eyes, although he didn't let himself feel everything just yet. There were too many eyes around.

You did really well. Even better than Rodney thought you would.

His eyes snapped open again, and he looked at the parrot on his shoulder. "Oh my god, either I've finally lost it or you really do talk."

"Sir?" Lorne glanced over at him, shooting him an odd look.

John stared for another moment, then closed his eyes again. "You know what? I don't think anything in this galaxy surprises me anymore."

"Me either, sir. Me either," Lorne said, turning back to the controls as they rushed through the gate, hovering in the air as jumper two followed them through. It shut off a few beats later and they dialed again.

They ended up on the Alpha site and Lorne toggled his radio. "Keep an eye out for any stray travelers after we head back out. I don't think anyone followed, but keep an eye out."

"Yes, Major."

Once all the jumpers were clear, they had one last transfer through the gate. When John saw the city he felt the relief settling in. They were home. Finally.

As they settled in the bay, John glanced at his second. "Clear everyone out and get anyone who needs it to the infirmary. I'll follow shortly. I... need a few minutes to get myself together."

Lorne nodded, letting the automatic controls finish their docking. The bird fluttered from Sheppard's shoulder to Lorne's before transferring itself back to Rodney who was on his feet—albeit unsteadily. Beckett was on the Canadian as soon as the doors opened, leading him to the awaiting gurneys and wheelchairs. Carson was certainly prepared for anything.

John stared out the window of the jumper. Once everyone was gone, he leaned forward, putting his head against the console. He knew from past experience that the best way to handle this was to just let himself feel it all, all at once, and get it over with.

When he finally pulled himself together, staggering to his feet, he was surprised to find Lorne standing guard at the doors to the bay.

"Major?" He blinked a few times. God, he was getting too old for this.

"You ready to head down to the infirmary?"

"Not really, but I know I don't have a choice. Any word on McKay or Ronon?"

"I didn't call down, sir. Figured Beckett was busy enough without me yelling in his ear." Lorne moved out, walking slowly.

Nodding, John paced him. "Did I miss anything exciting while I was gone?"

"Apart from Zelenka's still blowing up? No."

"The still blew up?" John shot him a surprised look. "God, were there riots?"

Lorne chuckled. "Not yet. It's not common knowledge. Right now it's labeled as a lab accident. I had a talk with him afterward."

"You know what, I think I'll leave that one in your capable hands."

"Thanks, sir," Lorne said sourly. He continued a beat later. "I'm sure McKay's fine."

"I know." John took a few deep breaths. "And Ronon will be, too. They're both in good hands."

Elizabeth was at the bottom of the stairs as they slowly made their way down, her hands clasped together, wringing slightly. "John, are you okay?"

Pausing, he curled one corner of his lips up. "I didn't take any beatings. It was more fun to play head games with me."

"Rodney's bruise…" she said, her one hand drifting to the left side of her face, "looked painful, but old."

"He took the bulk of his beating the first night we were captured. We had attempted to escape. Ronon was pounded into the ground to teach me a lesson, and the same was done to Rodney to teach Teyla. They wanted to make sure we understood that if we did something they didn't like, it would be our teammates who would pay the price."

"Ronon?" Elizabeth's eyebrow rose.

John fought the urge to sigh. "Ronon and I were taken to the bridge for questioning, and Rodney and Teyla were brought to a separate location. I had already established myself as the team leader, so they considered the failed attempt my fault. I guess they decided Teyla was the leader between her and Rodney."

She nodded. "I'll get the rest of your mission report tomorrow. Go get checked over and get some rest."

"Thanks." He gave her another small smile, and they moved off, headed to the infirmary, the silence comfortable between them. Once they arrived, he hopped up on a table.

Carson appeared a few minutes later, a smile on his face. "I'm glad to see the Major had enough sense to bring you down here."

"I never intended to skip." John worked up the energy to look affronted. "I just wanted to avoid the rush. How are Ronon and Rodney?"

"Ronon is fine, but I'm keeping him overnight to keep an eye on him. Rodney, I’m pleased to say, is fine. Apart from the cut on his head and a little bruising, he's okay. I've sent him home to shower and rest."

That was surprising. "I knew they had started giving him a little more food when it got obvious that it was hurting him, but I thought they were still shorting him. Then again, the rest of us were going on half-rations to make sure he had enough. Good to know it made a difference."

"His levels were a little low, but a good meal and some rest should set them right. How about we take a look and see how you're doing?"

John pulled off his jacket—he had left his gear in the jumper—and held out his arm, assuming Carson would want blood.

Carson worked quickly, taking samples for tests, and checking him over. "I'll get a better idea when your test results come back, but a good meal and some rest and you should be fine. Off with you."

With a nod, John hopped down. He started to head out, then paused. He hated this, but he knew damn well he needed it. "Carson?"

"Aye?" The Scot turned, glancing up from where he was writing in John's chart.

He hesitated, then decided to just blurt it out. "Can you... arrange for an appointment with Kate for me?"

Carson paused, surprise on his face he couldn't hide. "Aye. Of course. When? Now?"

"No, not now. I'm too tired to deal with it. But... I know I'll need to sooner or later, and I'd rather deal with it before it becomes a bigger issue."

"Aye, of course," he said, nodding. "I'll set it up for tomorrow. I can email you the time."

"Thanks." John turned to leave again.

"John?"

He stopped, but didn't turn. "Yeah?"

"If I can help in any way…"

John huffed a small laugh. "I know. It's not... I let my anger take control, and I did something I shouldn't have. And I think the fact that I don't regret it bothers me more than the act itself."

Carson was quiet, not pressing and John eventually just walked away, out of the infirmary and to the nearest transporter.

He headed for home, looking forward to a hot shower and falling into his own bed with his lover safe and close.

The shower was already running when he arrived, Rodney's dirty clothes in a pile on the bedroom floor. He'd put music on—his iPod with the attached speakers. It was barely loud enough for Rodney to hear over the water, but sometimes his lover needed the music.

John started to strip to join him, when he stopped short, staring at the bright red bird preening itself in the middle of their bedroom.

The bird cocked his head to the side, looking at John. Surprise?

"Fuck." He rubbed his hand across his face. "Okay, I'm willing to accept for now that you really are a telepathic bird who has bonded with my lover. My question is: what now?"

I can talk to more people here.

John added a few things up in his head. "It's the gene. You must have been originally created by the Ancients, or modified by them at any rate." He had to admit, he was interested despite himself. "Does strength of the gene matter, or does just having it make it possible to 'hear' you?"

John swore the bird shrugged. Rodney promised me it would be nice here.

"Can you hear the city?"

Course not. Cities don't talk.

"Not in words, but it does talk." As fascinated as he was, he shook it off. "Tell you what, right now I'm exhausted and I want to shower and sleep. If you go sleep in the living room, we can all talk a bit more tomorrow."

Rodney said someone would come and get me checked out. Make sure I don't give you anything.

"Yeah. Atlantis would have locked down if you had something airborne or infectious, but it never hurts to get a full blood workup to be on the safe side." With a sigh, he started to strip. He wasn't missing his shower for this.

Of course, the door chime had to ring just as he was getting his shirt off.

He didn't bother to put it back on. Whoever was there would have to deal with a little skin. He made his way back to the door, palming the sensor to open it.

Of course Rodney would have called the vet—Carolyn Simmons. The blonde squeaked a hello, stammering something that John assumed was something along the lines of Doctor McKay had called her.

He went with just pretending he wasn't half-naked. "Come on in. I'll go get the bird."

The bird was already in the living room, perched on the couch as it eyed her. Rodney's right. You do have big breasts.

John narrowed his eyes. "That's not an appropriate comment."

Carolyn was bright red. Damn. She had the ATA gene, didn't she? The bird, though, didn't care. It was an observation. Compared to the ones I've seen so far, I'd have to agree with Rodney.

"I hate my life sometimes," John sighed. "Doc, we obviously have an ATA-specific telepathic bird who has bonded to McKay. We'll need you to run a full series of tests as to what exactly he is and what his limits are before we can decide anything." He gave the bird a wry look. Elizabeth was going to love this.

"Yes, Doctor McKay had mentioned something…I'll just…" She held out her hand. The bird looked her over for a minute before chirping to itself, flying over to land on the offered perch.

"Great. I'll just... wait over here. Can I get you anything?"

"We can go."

"Oh. Okay..." John wasn't sure if he was supposed to offer to come for the bird later—it really needed a better name than 'bird'—or ask her to keep it overnight... what was the protocol for intelligent, telepathic pets?

Carolyn offered a shrug, her cheeks still red. "It looks like he'll come with me. I’m sure if he wants to come back…"

Yes, yes. You'll know. God. The bird had picked up Rodney's diction.

John walked her to the door, shaking his head. As soon as it was closed, he set about getting rid of the rest of his clothes and getting to the shower.

Rodney was still in the shower when John stripped down, the water mingling with the music into a comfortable sound. He had to admit to surprise, though, when he finally walked into the bathroom and found various bondage items on the counter—cuffs, plug, chastity, gag, blindfold—all for after. If that wasn't a hint…

Moving around to the shower opening, John spotted Rodney sitting on the floor, letting the water pour over him. His eyes were closed and he was nearly perfectly still.

Not sure what mood his lover was in, John moved carefully into the stream. "Hey, buddy."

It took a few seconds for him to respond, his eyes blinking open as John shifted so the water wasn't running into his face. "Hi," he said, offering a light smile.

"How are you doing? Carson said you were tired, but otherwise okay."

"Mmm. Waiting for you," he said, shifting onto his knees.

"I was talking to your bird. The vet came and got him." John moved closer, running his fingers through Rodney's hair. Just being able to touch relaxed him, let some of his own tension drain away.

Rodney leaned into John's touch, shifting closer. "Yeah. He said goodbye. Carolyn will be good to him."

"Is he going to live with us?"

"No…unless you want him to." Rodney moved again, looking up John's body.

John chuckled, shifting so Rodney could scoot between his legs while he leaned against the wall. "Not especially. I'd rather he lived somewhere else, and we could visit now and then."

"Um…while I don't mind doing…you know and whatnot, can you wash up a little first?"

John couldn't help grinning. "I don't know that either of us are up to any whatnot tonight. And yes, washing was one of my goals in getting in the shower with you." He grabbed the washcloth and soap, handing them down. "But since you're down there, I'll let you do the honors."

Rodney nodded, but John saw the brief moment of disappointment flash across his face before it was gone and he was lathering up the washcloth. He got to work, cleaning John's legs and feet, even washing between the toes. He was careful with John's cock, but took very good care of it, making sure he cleaned every surface.

By the time he was done with it, John was hard—he had thought he was too tired for that, so it was a little surprising.

Rodney handed the washcloth up to John, leaning into his leg a little, pressing his cheek to the outer edge.

John sighed his lover's name, hands curling into his hair again.

He was quiet, his hands circling around John's calf, one finding a home on his ankle.

"Love you. Missed you."

Rodney nodded, his stubble rubbing against John's thigh.

"Suck me. But I don't want to come."

Rodney nodded again, shifting and centering himself. He carefully examined John's cock before leaning in, burying his face in John's groin, the scratch of his stubble making John's moan. He kissed and licked his way up John's cock before finally talking it in his mouth, swallowing him down with his own moan.

John watched his lover's eyes close, watched those perfect lips wrap around his dick.

After days without this, John felt like a starving man at a feast. He shivered, whispering words of praise and encouragement.

His lover sucked carefully, gently, pulling one moan after another from his mouth. It wasn't enough to bring John off, but it was enough to drive him crazy.

John didn't pull him off until he was trembling, pleasure pooled in his fingertips. He tugged gently on Rodney's hair. "Up here, I need to taste you, now."

It took his lover a few seconds to obey, scrambling to his feet, guided by John's hands.

John twisted, pinning Rodney to the wall and diving in, claiming what was his.

Rodney offered no resistance, opening up fully for him, his hands tugging John closer, tighter to him. Fingers traced patterns on John's back, nails digging in to skin.

When the need to breathe forced the issue, John backed off, nibbling his way down Rodney's neck. "My hair still needs to be washed."

"'kay." The word was breathy, groaned as John hit a sensitive spot, licking around the collar Rodney wore.

He bit softly, pushing the collar up a little so he could mark his lover just underneath where it sat normally.

Rodney just tilted his head to the side, offering up the skin to John. "Please."

Humming, John finished that small mark, then moved to his spot, making a bigger one over the almost-faded bruise already there.

"Thank you…yours," Rodney whispered, his body trembling.

"Mine. No one else gets to keep you." It came out as a growl, punctuated by a harder bite.

Rodney cried out softly, his fingers digging into John's back.

"Mine. Only mine. Always mine." He punctuated each one with nips, trailing them across Rodney's collarbone, leaving a line of possession.

His lover moaned, tugging John closer. "Please…"

"Wash my hair. And after that I'm going to turn you around and fuck you. The longer you can drag out the washing, the longer and harder I'll fuck you until we're both screaming our release. And then I'm going to bring you out and dress you up—your jeweled ring is going on, along with the cuffs and the plug and the chastity device."

"Please, John," Rodney begged, turning his face into John's shoulder. "Need you."

"I'm here." He grabbed the shampoo bottle and squirted a little into Rodney's palm, guiding it to his own head. He let his head drop to give Rodney better access, wanting the intimacy of this, the simple pleasure of touching and being together.

It took his lover nearly a minute to finally move on his own, leaning back so he could see what he was doing. His square-edged fingers were strong, massaging John's scalp, turning the shampoo into a lather. They found all the pressure points, releasing the tension, relieving the pain.

It was perfect. John made soft, happy sounds, arching into each stroke. He was aware that he was purring in a vaguely cat-like manner, but didn't care. Sex was amazing, and they would get to that, but this, the touching just to touch, to caress, to make each other feel good and not necessarily to arouse—this was what he had desperately needed. Absolution through love.

Rodney tilted his head back finally, rinsing the soap from his hair, his fingers threading through to make sure it was clear.

Humming, John angled his head to press open-mouthed, sloppy kisses against Rodney's damp skin.

"John, please…I need…I need…"

"Shhhh." Shifting his weight back, John gently turned his lover around, one hand sliding down to slip between his cheeks, circling his entrance.

Rodney spread his legs, letting John's finger slide in easily. Lubed? Rodney had used the shower lube?

God, that was so fucking hot. John moaned as he pushed his finger deep. He found that special spot and stroked it, wanting to reward his lover for doing this, for being so perfect.

Rodney moaned, shuddering as John pressed hard. He loved the reactions his lover gave him each and every time.

John worked a second finger in, then a third, finger-fucking his lover until he couldn't stand it anymore—he needed to be buried so deep Rodney could taste him. He did just that, sliding in with one long glide that had Rodney bucking back as John bucked forward, both of them moaning.

But then John wrapped his arms around Rodney's waist, holding him tight, stilling inside his lover. It took less than a minute before Rodney was sobbing, begging John to move.

"Relax, Rodney. Let go. I want everything tonight."

Nodding, Rodney pressed his forehead to the wall and took a deep breath. John felt his cock slide in deeper as Rodney's muscles relaxed, letting him in.

"So good, Rodney. Want to make this so good for you. Just let it all go. We're home now, safe. Let me take care of you."

"Please…" He was still begging. Not what John had in mind.

John ran his hands up and down Rodney's arms, caressing, while he nibbled at the back of his lover's neck. "I want you so deep all you want is exactly what I'm willing to give you."

"Need you, please."

"I know what you need."

Rodney was panting, his eyes closed tightly. He definitely needed to be fucked, that was certain, but not like this. Not with this tension in him.

John nuzzled, plastering his body to Rodney's back. Holding still when he wanted to fuck so badly was sheer torture, but this was more important. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours."

Rodney shook his head, but John's growl, stopped him quickly. "Want to forget."

"Forget what? Tell me." He made it an order.

"Forget what happened."

"Did anyone hurt you, or is it just general kidnapping and forced to fix shit stress?"

Rodney shook his head.

"Tell me."

"Just make me forget, please."

John bit a little, drawing a small gasp out of Rodney. "Not until you tell me what you need to forget. I need this, Rodney. I need to know what they did to you before I can make it go away."

Rodney rocked his head against the wall, back and forth, his eyes squeezing together tighter. "Make me forget how much I want to be part of the team, how much I like being part of the team. I'm the fucking weak link every time. I hate it and I hate knowing I have to give it up because it's going to get you or Teyla or Ronon or Lorne or someone killed. I want to stay so badly, but I know I can't. I know I can't."

That made John's head pop up and his eyes go wide. He pulled free of his lover and turned him around, pulling him into a hug, wrapping himself around Rodney. "No, no, Rodney... Not going to ask you to leave, I won't let you leave the team. Never. You're not a weak link, not at all. I promise..."

"Can't stay…can't…"

"Yes, you can." John pulled back enough to force Rodney to look him in the eye. "No, you're not as physical as the rest of us. But you have something we don't have. You can manipulate the technology, come up with solutions to problems, fix things none of us would have a prayer of fixing. Without you, our team would be dead several times over. You're necessary, Rodney. We can't do it without you."

"Weak. I know I am. Between my lack of ability in actually using a handgun or weapon, to defending myself, to even flying the jumpers…I…I slow you down. I'm going to get you killed because you're protecting me, trying to save my sorry ass again because someone didn't feed me enough. I'm a liability."

"No, you're not." He would repeat it until Rodney believed. "How many times have we almost exploded? How many times has your ability to fix things been the only thing that bought us time to escape—like this time. Without you, we probably would have been killed outright."

"John, please," Rodney begging, trying to drop down to his knees, but John held him up.

"No. You're going to listen to me, and we'll stay here like this until you believe. You're necessary, Rodney. Without you, the rest of us don't work. Don't matter. The same goes for Teyla, and Ronon. And even me. We're a team. We can't do it without all of us."

"I might not have been all there, but I know I just made the situation worse."

"You didn't. Please, Rodney..." John didn't know how to convince him. "You can't leave the team."

"Please….fuck me, please. I just need to feel you. Please."

John flicked the water off and led his lover back into the bedroom. It didn't take much to get them both on the bed, get himself buried in his lover's willing body again. "I need you, Rodney. In my bed, on my team, in my life... I need you."

As soon as Rodney was on his back, he opened up for John, letting him slide in deep. Some of the tension melted away as soon as they connected. Drops of water from the shower still covered their bodies and while John knew right now this was the last thing that Rodney needed—to use submission as a means of escaping because he wanted to forget something he perceived as painful—John wasn't going to deny him his request. Not now, not when he was like this—so desperate, hurting so much.

They rocked together, John fucking him gently, slowly. "So perfect, Rodney. Need you. Love you."

"Need you…please," Rodney moaned, bucking up to meet John's thrusts.

"Here, I'm here. Always." John brought them both to the edge, keeping them there for as long as he could. When he couldn't hold back any longer, he wrapped a hand around Rodney's erection, stroking fast. "Come. Come now. Take me with you."

Rodney came with a moaning sob, his back arching off the bed, body shuddering through his climax.

It was enough to take John over too, spilling into his lover, leaving him sated, boneless. He slumped down into Rodney, breathing hard.

Rodney's hand landed on his shoulder, resting there as he caught his breath, his heart beating hard in his chest. A whispered "thank you" drifted down to John.

John responded the only way he could. "Love you."

"Love you, too," Rodney whispered, his body melting a little further under John.

John decided to forgo the bondage stuff tonight, mostly because they were both tired and going to get it was too much effort. Instead, he managed to work up the energy to pull out and roll a little to the side, keeping a leg thrown over Rodney's body and snuggling in close.

Rodney whimpered as John slid free, but was otherwise quiet, curling into John. Bondage tonight, even though Rodney had obviously wanted it, would not be a good idea. Neither of them was really up for it and Rodney was not in the right state of mind.

"Sleep. We can talk tomorrow. Love you."

His lover hummed in reply, already half-asleep himself.

"Night," John whispered. Then he slid into a deep sleep himself.

***

The call from Carson the night before had taken Kate Heightmeyer by surprise. It had been a simple request, a professional one, but it was out of the ordinary enough to set her on edge.

John Sheppard never willingly asked for help.

She'd quietly stayed at the side over the past few months, watching his relationship with Rodney expand, watching as they settled easily into their roles. Ever since the slave incident, there had been no need for her to step in at all. John had taken his responsibilities as a top and dominant very seriously—and Rodney looked like he was flourishing because of it.

So when Carson had called her and told her that John had requested an appointment with her ASAP, she'd been…surprised and immediately concerned. While the recent mission reports had not been available, she'd gotten John's most recent medical test results and a very brief verbal report from Carson and Elizabeth.

While it had been a bad mission, they'd handled worse—as far as Kate had been concerned. Something had happened, though. Either to John or Rodney, or both of them.

Sipping on her English breakfast tea—a gift from a friend that had arrived on the latest Daedalus run—she mulled over what she knew and tried to prepare herself for John's appointment. She had to be in the right frame of mind when he came. Sometimes he would only listen when her "top" voice came out.

The door chimed two minutes before 0900. He was always prompt. Clicking the button on her desk to open the door, the panels slid open to reveal the Colonel—hair a little more unruly than normal, dark circles under his eyes. His face was closed off, but there was a tension in his body that wasn't normal.

"John, please come in," she said with a welcoming smile. She gestured with her free hand to the chairs set up near the window. "Would you like tea or coffee?"

He paced in, flashing what she knew was his 'public' smile, the one that gave nothing away. "Coffee, thanks."

"You're welcome," she said easily, moving to the small pot she had—a four cup—quickly spooning out coffee and pouring in water, watching carefully as John prowled around the room. It usually took him a few minutes to settle in. "Did you sleep well?" she asked carefully, quietly, easily.

She noted the slight stiffening of his posture, tension shooting up another notch. "I guess. I... yeah. Fine."

She filed it away for now. "I have a few rolls I picked up from the mess earlier this morning. Would you like one while the coffee brews?"

He took one, nibbling on it a little as he moved to stare out the window. He was very obviously struggling, at war with his own natural inclination not to talk.

The smell of coffee filled the room and Kate waited, wondering if John would fill the silence.

He was getting progressively more twitchy, and finally, without looking at her, broke first. "I... you know I requested this, right? I mean, I know you do, but... I left something out of my mission report."

Kate was quiet for a moment as she leaned her hip against the edge of her desk. "Carson did call me with the request, yes. I only know the basics of the last mission you were on. Is it something Rodney did, or did something happen to him that you didn't mention to Carson?"

He made a soft noise, one she hadn't heard from him before. "No. He... he's fine. He thinks he's the weak link, but that's... I can deal with that."

She filed that comment away as well. Rodney's lingering issues about his abilities outside of science was something they had been working on and she'd thought he'd moved past most of them. It seemed as if he hadn't.

The coffee pot sputtered and Kate turned toward it, waiting for the last drops before she poured a mug. "Sugar? Milk?"

"Both. Thanks." He continued to look out the window, refusing to turn and meet her eyes.

After adding both to the mug, she walked over, handing it to him before she settled into one of her chairs. "Things are going well between the two of you?"

He nodded, what she could see of his expression softening a little. "Yeah. He's... he's perfect."

"Good," Kate smiled, letting the affection and concern she had for the two of them enter her voice. "He seems…freer in some aspects. Lighter."

That got her a quick glance, and a more real smile. "Yeah. I've been trying to make sure he doesn't have to worry about all the little things so he's free to enjoy the big ones. It might be stressful to keep the city running, but he loves it."

"Yes, he does," she said, returning the smile. She took a small sip of her tea before speaking again. "Do you still love it?"

She saw him lick his lips, staring out the window again, but she doubted he was seeing anything. "I... yes. But..." With a sigh, he dropped his head, and his voice. "I'm starting to think I'm losing my ability to cope with... everything."

"What do you need to cope with? Rodney?"

"He's the only thing I can... I..." He took a deep breath. "I got so angry, Kate. This wasn't even a really bad mission, as far as things go, but I was so fucking angry... I... did something I shouldn't have, and even knowing I shouldn't have, I'm not sorry about it so much as I'm... worried that I'm not sorry about it."

"What happened?" She kept her voice quiet, non-judgmental.

He was silent for a long moment. "You've read the reports so you know the basics of the mission?"

"No one has provided a written report yet—as far as I can tell. I've spoken with Carson and Elizabeth."

He gave a small nod. "I submitted mine this morning, but I don't think the rest of my team has. The short of it is that we were taken captive by pirates and told that if we did something they didn't like, it was other members of the team who would be punished. They had Rodney fixing their ship, Ronon hauling stuff around, and Teyla and I.... scavenging."

She nodded. She knew that much from the verbal reports. "Scavenging what?"

"Anything." She noted a very faint tremor in his hand. "They... completely wiped out a population, and then we were sent through with a few guards to take anything that hadn't been burned or destroyed in the raid. They killed everyone. Everyone."

"They did? I thought the Wraith had culled the planet."

"No. They... never said it outright. But when we first went through, we wanted to look for survivors. They were insistent that there wouldn't be any. And we…we actually found one, a little girl, hiding in a closet they had me searching..."

And there was one of the issues. Someone John couldn't save. "What happened?"

His voice went flat, emotionless. "They pulled her out. I asked to be allowed to send her to a world I knew accepted refugees. Begged. They shot and killed her. And then the fucker guarding me said that if I made any more noise whatsoever, they would behead my teammates next."

Her heart went out to him and to that little girl. She was still surprised by the inhumanity humans could perform on a daily basis. "You did what you could to help her, but you were not in a situation that you could do more."

"I did do more. Later. He was one of the guards who were there when Teyla and I escaped."

"Is this the part that wasn't in your report?"

"Yes." His knuckles were white from where he was gripping the mug. "He spent the walk to the gate threatening to rape Teyla, and then deciding I would be more fun. When we overpowered them, I castrated him. The only reason he's not missing more limbs is because Teyla stopped me."

That was not what she had expected. "You…"

"Yes."

She nodded. Kate always tried to forget that most of the people she worked with could kill her just as easily with their hands as with any weapon. "Why?"

"I wanted to hurt him. I was so angry... I'm still angry, and that's what scares the fuck out of me. I don't know why that pushed me over the edge or where this came from, and I don't know if I'll do something like that again. And I don't regret it. So what does that make me? I'm a danger to others at the very least, and I... don't know what to do to fix this."

"Were you angry about the advances he made on Teyla?"

"Yes. And on me. He forced a kiss just before we stepped through the gate. But that's no excuse. I know it's not, but I did it anyway."

"Do you feel your anger was out of proportion to what transpired over the mission, over those days?"

He glanced over, and she was surprised at the flash of almost anguish on his face before he hid it, completely. "I tortured a man, and only stopped because I was forced to. What do you think?"

"I think you were angry and this was a way for you to strike back, maybe the only way. But why were you so angry? Do you think it was just because of this mission?"

He finally turned, his mask slipping a little again. He was exhausted, and she was surprised to see a little fear in there, too. "I don't know. I wish I did."

"What were you thinking when you…castrated the guard?"

"I was just angry. I wanted to hurt him." He finally moved away from the window, dropping into the chair across from her. "What's wrong with me, Kate? I've never... I never thought I was capable of... and that I'm not sorry about it... What the hell is wrong with me?"

"You're human, John."

He snorted. "That doesn't give me the right to lose my mind. Not out here, not when it can cost lives."

"Do you think you lost your mind?"

"Haven't I? Only the seriously fucked-up actually enjoy torturing someone."

"Have you had the urge to injure anyone else?"

He shook his head. "But that doesn't mean it won't happen again. I was out of control, and I don't even know why. Why then? Why was that threat, that atrocity, any worse than the hundreds of others I've seen?"

"I don't know, John. Why do you think it was? What made it different to you?"

"I was just so... angry. I tried to negotiate but they wouldn't listen, just threatened us if I kept trying. All I could do was sit there and watch my teammates being hauled off to god knows where, stand there and watch while they beat Ronon for a decision I had made, beat Rodney for a decision Teyla had made..."

"Did you feel out of control?"

"I sure as hell wasn't the one calling the shots."

"And you don't like that."

He glanced up from his mug. "I've gotten used to it. I'm not in control of a hell of a lot lately."

"What do you mean?"

He made the same soft noise he had earlier. She realized with surprise that he probably didn't realize he was doing it, and that it was indicative of distress. "Let's see—I was drugged and turned into a sex slave, I was turned into a bug, I was almost put on trial and removed from my posting, my team keeps getting fucking kidnapped..."

Kate leaned forward, placing her hand gently on his arm. "But you got through everything. You're safe."

He was shaking slightly. "Have we? Or have I just finally snapped under the pressure? I can't be trusted like this, Kate. I can't be in command when I don't even trust myself. I was never meant to be in command here, and there are a lot of people who still don't think I should be. I thought they were wrong, but what if they aren't?"

"John, look at me," Kate ordered, waiting for him to raise his head. His eyes took another few seconds to finally settle on her face. "If you were not capable of doing the job, nothing any of us said would have made any difference in the eyes of the SGC. They appointed you because they knew you were the right man for the job and they knew you could get the job done. Everyone out here has doubts and worries, you're not alone in feeling the way you do."

He swallowed hard. "I can... accept that. But... I still don't know if I can be trusted now." He dropped his eyes again, the effort to get the words out almost visible. "I'm... scared. Of what I did, and of what I felt while I did it."

"What did you feel?"

"Satisfaction."

Kate kept her reaction from reaching her face. She needed to know what was going on in his head. "Why?"

"He can't force anyone anymore. He admitted he preferred rape to other forms of pleasure. Now that's not something he can enjoy at all."

"Is that the only reason?"

"No."

"What was the other reason, John?"

His response was almost so quiet she couldn't hear it. "I just wanted him to hurt."

"Because you were hurting?"

"I... maybe."

Kate nodded, squeezing his arm reassuringly. "It's okay to admit that you're upset, that things are bothering you. I'd actually be more worried if nothing bothered you at all."

"It's not supposed to. I'm the one who's supposed to have his shit together."

"You do have it together, but you're also human, John, which means that sometimes things are going to get past our outer defenses." She was quiet for a moment, letting the silence grow between them. "You obviously came here because you wanted to talk, because you wanted to get some control. So, what do you think we should do now?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "I just know I can't keep doing this, and I can't do my job if I don't get past it."

"I agree," she said quietly.

"So what do you suggest?"

Kate was quiet as she looked John over. "What do you think I should suggest?"

He shrugged, still refusing to meet her eyes again. "If it was me, and I was my commanding officer, I would remove me from duty and require me to see the base psych."

"Do you think that would work in this case?"

A ghost of his usual smirk appeared. "Do you think you can get me to talk?" It disappeared, and he became serious, finally looking up again. "I'm trying, Kate. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to fix whatever's wrong with me. But it's... not easy."

"I know and I'm glad that you decided to come and see me before I had to track you down," she smiled, easing some of the tension and sharpness of her words. "How about we settle for a middle ground? I'm not going to remove you from duty—you're fully capable of doing most of your job—but I am going to ground you from off-world missions. I'm going to ask that Major Lorne take over those duties for the current time."

John looked like he wanted to protest, but nodded instead. "What about missions to the mainland? Or are you recommending I be grounded and restricted to base completely?"

"I think that you can remain on rotation for shuttle pilot duty to the mainland," she said with a nod. "Unless you feel you're not capable of flying a jumper."

He quickly nodded. "I'm good for that. And I'll have the time on my hands, so I'd be more than happy to take on extra shuttle duties if needed."

"Also, in the event of an on-base emergency, I'm going to suggest that Major Lorne handle it as well and you also take yourself off of security patrols."

That startled him. "Ah... so basically I'm just doing paperwork?"

Kate nodded. "I think it would be best for now. I'm also certain that the scientists would appreciate any help you can give them in their research."

Another ghost of a smile. "I thought we were trying to eliminate the anger and frustration issues."

"As we see improvements, we can add additional duties."

He nodded. "That's... fair. What else? I know you and I will get to know each other all over again, but... I really want to fix this, Kate. Help me. I need something tangible to be working on, to see progress on."

"We'll schedule daily appointments for now to see if we can find the root of the problem and go from there." She took a deep breath, looking evenly at John. "This is not going to be a quick fix. It's going to take time and you're going to want to see results a lot faster than they'll happen. But we will get to the bottom of this. I promise you."

He sighed softly, but nodded again. "Thank you. Is training out too, or can I schedule myself for an hour in the gym every day?"

"Feel free to go about the rest of your normal routine. If you feel that you are being too aggressive in the gym, stop. You know yourself and I will not be babysitting you. Now, as for Rodney…" She paused when his head came up sharply. "You need to speak to him about your concerns and about your restricted status."

"I haven't lost control with him. He's the only place I've felt normal lately."

She nodded. "He still needs to know what's going on with you."

John nodded slowly. "I know. What about the rest of my team? Are they grounded with me? Lorne has his own team for missions, and since we don't know how long I'll be off the active roster..."

"No," she said shaking her head. "I'm going to make a report to Elizabeth as soon as you leave and recommend that the rest of your team continue as is with its mission roster, adding someone in your place. I'm certain Major Lorne can suggest someone to your team in the meantime."

A variety of emotions ran across John's face, finally settling on resignation. "I'd prefer if Lorne took my place."

Kate nodded. "I'll make that suggestion, but it will be up to the Major."

John sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"Will morning be the best time for our appointments?" Kate asked, moving onto the practical things. John needed to see that this was important, that he needed to give up some things in order for him to get a better grasp on his own emotions.

After a heartbeat, he nodded again. "Yeah. And can you let me know when you inform Elizabeth and Lorne? I'd like to be the one to tell my team, and I'd like Lorne to be there when I do."

She nodded. "Give me about an hour to prepare my report for Elizabeth. I can call you as soon as I finish my meeting with her."

"Thanks." He rubbed a hand across his face. "I can't promise I'll make this easy, Kate. I will try, but... Thanks."

"With you, I'm not expecting easy, but we will work through it. That, I can promise you."

He stood up, the smile back. "So same time tomorrow morning?"

Kate nodded, returning the smile. "I'll have coffee and breakfast ready for you."

"It's a deal." He started for the door, giving her a half-salute as he went.

"John," she said as she rose to her feet.

Pausing, he turned back around. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming to me, for trusting me. I'm proud of you for taking the first step yourself. It's a very…brave thing to do."

The tips of his ears turned a little pink. "I... thank you."

She smiled again, watching as he stepped out of her office, the door closing quietly behind him. With a sigh she tapped her radio. "Heightmeyer to Weir."

She got a response a moment later. "This is Elizabeth. What's wrong?"

"Can I steal about fifteen minutes of your time in about an hour?"

"Of course. Can you tell me what it's about?"

"It's official business, I'm afraid. Colonel Sheppard was in to see me this morning and I'm going to put him on restricted duty. Let me pull together my report and I'll present my findings to you."

There was a startled pause. "John came to you?"

"Yes. Let me get my report written up and I'll discuss as much as I can with you."

"I'll come down to your office in an hour."

"No, let me come up to see you. I'll also need to have Major Lorne to report to us after we talk."

There was another long pause. "All right. I'll see you then. Weir out."

Tapping off her radio, Kate pulled the device from her ear, dropping it onto her desk with a sigh. She had a lot of work to do and one stubborn Colonel to work on. She had better get started before the rumor-mill got underway.

***

John sat in his office, waiting. Lorne would be here soon for a quick debrief—he had already talked to Elizabeth and presumably Kate—and then the rest of John's team would be here for what would probably be an interesting conversation.

He looked up as the door opened, his second walking in. "Lorne."

"Sir," he replied, his body tense, posture formal as he paused before John's desk.

John sighed. "Have a seat, Major. The rest of my team will be here in a few minutes."

"Doctor Weir has outlined the changes to me, sir," he said quietly, remaining on his feet. "I've decided to take your position on the team and get a temporary replacement for mine. Abrams has already agreed." He paused "Are you certain you want to do this with me here, sir?"

"You're the one taking over for me, so you should be here to answer any questions. And it is temporary. I will want my team back as soon as I'm cleared for full duty again."

"Of course, sir," Lorne said, finally cracking the hint of a smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That made him feel a little better. "Look, I didn't really think such... complete... measures would be necessary. But I have to trust Kate here. I don't know how much they told you in the briefing, but I went to her, I wasn't ordered there."

"You don't have to explain anything, sir."

John glanced up as Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney walked in, looking curious. Good, he wouldn't have to repeat himself. "Hi, guys. I've asked everyone here because there's going to be a temporary change in the command structure, which will directly affect the team."

Rodney's eyes widened in surprise as his jaw muscles tightened down, anything he was going to say held back. Ronon was similarly surprised, but simply shrugged it off as he leaned against the wall nearest the door. Teyla was the only one not to look surprised.

"You have spoken with Doctor Heightmeyer." Her words were not a question, merely a statement of fact. She knew.

He nodded at her. "I went to see her this morning because of some...anger issues I had in the field. I was concerned because my reactions were out of proportion to the situation we were in. She took it seriously enough that I've been temporarily grounded, with no off-world missions, and any emergency situations that come up, Major Lorne will be in command. Because grounding the rest of the flagship team along with me wasn't an option, the Major will also be taking over my slot in the field with you guys. This is only until Kate clears me again." He met and held Teyla's gaze. "I'm not resigning. But I agree with her that until I figure out why it happened and get it under control, I'm a danger to the rest of you in the field."

Teyla nodded, a quiet smile on her face. "It is for the best."

He was relieved. After their conversation, he was afraid she would think he was giving up. "It is. I'll still be here, still be sitting in the senior staff meetings, and God help me still doing all the paperwork. I'll also be running shuttle duty to the mainland, and assisting in the labs as needed. I just won't be going off-world or running a security detail here in the city. My hope is that it won't take me long to get my shit together, but I didn't want to risk your lives while I did it."

"How will this affect our current mission line-up," Teyla asked, glancing between John and Lorne.

"It won't." John nodded at the Major. "You'll be running our schedule, and someone else will be taking over temporary command of Major Lorne's team to complete his scheduled missions."

Lorne nodded. "I don't want to disrupt the team's schedule any more than it already is. I'm going to ask Abrams to take over my team for the time being."

It was a good choice. John smiled slightly at his second. "Any other questions?"

Teyla shook her head. Ronon and Rodney were silent.

He could tell both his male teammates were unhappy with this news. He wanted to nip this in the bud before it could get much further. "Great. Everyone is dismissed, then. Ronon, Rodney, would you mind staying behind for a minute?"

"I have work to do," Rodney said tightly, already on his way out the door.

"Rodney." John put enough of an order into his voice that his lover stopped while Teyla and Lorne slipped out. "Both of you sit down. I left a few things out of my report that you weren't there for, and that's what prompted this. You need to hear it if you're going to understand."

"Leaving things out of your mission reports, Sheppard?" Rodney snapped, standing behind the chairs with his arms crossed.

"Yes." John sighed, rubbing his face. He quickly and as emotionlessly as possible told them the same things he had told Kate this morning—they were team, and deserved to know. He told them about the little girl, the guard, and what he had done to the man. "I don't trust myself not to lose control like that again. Not right now. I didn't think Kate would ground me when I went to her, otherwise I would have told you all this first. But I trust her enough to give this a try."

Rodney was silent, but Ronon nodded. "I would have done the same thing."

John sighed again. "Maybe. The...act itself isn't why I went to Kate. It's... if Teyla hadn't been there to stop me, I don't know that I would have stopped. And that scares the shit out of me. I need to get whatever's wrong with me fixed before I lose it again. I need both of you to understand that, and follow Lorne's orders in the field. I really hope this isn't going to be long-term. I'll go stir crazy if I'm stuck on base for an extended period. But for the short-term..."

"Yes yes. Like we actually follow your orders off-world," Rodney said snidely. "If that's all, I have work I need to get back to."

John shook his head. "That's all for Ronon, unless he has any other questions. You're not leaving yet."

"Nope, no questions," Ronon said, easing himself away from the wall.

John nodded to the former Runner, then turned his attention to Rodney as soon as the door was closed. "You don't agree with what was decided."

"I don't agree or disagree. Right now all I know is that I have work to finish up because I have a mission tomorrow afternoon—or had you forgotten about that already? And that's in addition to the science department meeting in oh…" Rodney glanced at his watch, "…in fifteen minutes and then the senior staff meeting this afternoon."

"Rodney..." John stood and came around the desk, standing next to his lover. "I really didn't think I would be grounded like this, or I would have told you last night. I went to her this morning because I was concerned about the way I reacted out there."

"I guess it's not every day that you cut off a man's balls," Rodney said quietly, some of the anger leaving him. "I just…I know you need to talk about this with me, but I just can't do this now."

John flinched, hard. He couldn't stop it in time. He backed off, rising and moving to the other side of the office. "I'll see you tonight, then."

Rodney nodded, falling back into silence, sadness and something else on his face. John couldn't see it all before his lover turned, heading for the door. "I wish…I wish you would have talked to me…before."

"This happened a lot faster than I thought it would. And for the record, I was going to tell you this morning, but you were gone when I woke up."

Rodney looked up sheepishly, knowing that he'd snuck out without waking John. "I had…things I needed to do."

John took a risk and stepped a little closer again, praying his lover didn't pull away. He wasn't sure what he would do if Rodney was afraid of him now. He needed his lover if he was going to figure this out. "It's okay, just... don't be pissed at me for not telling you, when you really didn't give me the chance, okay?

He nodded, lowering his eyes. "I do need to go."

"Rodney..." John reached out, touching his lover's face with just the tips of his fingers. "I know you need to go, but... I need you, okay?"

"Whatever you need," he replied quietly, his body still, letting John touch.

John let out a shaky breath, stepping closer, his touch firmer. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

He nodded.

John claimed a short, soft kiss. "Love you."

"Love you," Rodney repeated, hand grazing against John's waist, just above his belt.

John let himself lean in for just a moment, let them have this. Then he brushed their lips together again. "I know you have things you need to do, so we can talk more later. I just... needed to know we were okay."

"We will be," Rodney replied quietly, lips brushing against John's as he answered.

John hummed softly, deepening the connection briefly, tongue darting inside Rodney's mouth, licking away the coffee and donuts he had eaten before coming over.

Rodney moaned, but then choked it off, pulling back. "John…"

"I know." He stole another quick kiss, then stepped back. "Go. Get done what you need to."

His lover nodded, moving away, a little unsteady on his feet. But before John could move in to steady him, he was already out the door, headed down the corridor, his head down as he concentrated on his feet or the floor.

John sank down into his guest chair. Fuck. What was he going to do?

***

After the bombshell of an announcement just before lunch, Rodney's concentration was shot. Radek kept shooting him strange looks during the science department meeting when he kept losing his place, and the scowl he received from Elizabeth during the senior staff meeting wasn't much better.

He wasn't sure what was up with him.

Although the whole cutting off someone's balls thing certainly put things into perspective. He sometimes forgot he'd basically married someone who could kill you six ways from Sunday.

But John had been right, he'd snuck out of the apartment before his lover woke, not wanting to deal with him after the night before. He hadn't given John the opportunity to talk to him about anything.

After the senior staff meeting, Elizabeth had asked for John to remain, but Rodney escaped before she could get him, too. He needed to think, to figure out the mess in his head.

Tapping his radio, he contacted Radek as he strode down the control room stairs.

"Zelenka here." The Czech's voice was distracted.

"I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off."

There was a long, loaded pause. "You are what?"

"Taking the afternoon off. Are you hard of hearing?"

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"Is there anything I can do to assist? Other than covering for you this afternoon?"

"No. Just…don't mention it, okay?" Rodney glanced around, grateful there was no one else in the hall. "I just…I just need to think."

"Do not worry. I will page you if there is a catastrophe. Otherwise, I will see you tomorrow."

"Just in the morning," he said, stepping into the empty transporter and hitting the destination nearest his apartment. "I have a mission in the afternoon."

"Yes, I have your schedule on my calendar. You are sparkly pink. Go rest, and do not worry. I will put fear of devil into minions today."

"I will not even grant that comment with one of my own. McKay out." He stumbled out of the transporter and into his room a few seconds later, headed for the bedroom with a brief detour to drop his laptop on the living room table.

He stripped the bed and stuffed everything into the laundry basket, turning immediately back out the door and down to the room they'd found that seemed to be a laundry room. No one was there, so he used three machines, splitting the load. It would be easier this way.

With a quick glance at his watch to note the time, he headed back to his room and attacked it with a vengeance. Out came the mops and dusters and sponges. The physical helped him forget, let him concentrate on the dust bunnies and the baked-on crap John had left on the dishes in the sink.

He stopped only long enough to go down and switch the laundry, one of the Marines standing guard over his lone machine in the corner. Rodney ignored him. He wasn't in the mood for conversation and his scowl must have given it away.

By the time the laundry finished, the apartment was nearly sparkling. Sheets went back on the bed, clothes folded and put away.

Rodney finally stripped, dumping his clothes into the empty bin before moving into the bathroom. He ran the water for a few minutes, adjusting the temperature a few times, before closing the drain and letting the tub fill. He moved into the bedroom and clicked on his iPod, letting the classical music fill the room.

He nodded to himself as he glanced around the room. There was nothing else to be done right now, so he settled himself in the tub, letting the water fill before turning it off with a mental command. With his eyes closed, he let his mind and body float.

The water was starting to get tepid when the sound of someone hesitantly clearing their throat made him open his eyes. John was leaning in the doorway, just looking at him. "Hey."

Rodney shifted, the water sloshing around a little. "Hey."

"Want me to leave?"

"You don't have to, no. I was just…" Rodney waved his hand, making more waves in the tub.

"It's okay. You're relaxing. Did you eat? I was going to find something for dinner."

"I…" Rodney thought for a minute, surprised that he'd been able to turn his brain off. "No. I didn't."

John nodded once, then disappeared back through the door.

Sitting up straight, his shoulders completely out of the water now, Rodney shivered. Rubbing his hands over his face he opened the drain, letting the water swirl out. It took him a few minutes to get himself up onto his feet, absently drying off. He wrapped the towel around his waist as he headed out, not sure what would be appropriate—clothes or no clothes—given the circumstances.

He was nervous, unsettled. He hadn't been this way with John since the beginning.

John was in the bedroom, his back turned as he pulled off his uniform shirt and kicked off his shoes.

"How…how was the rest of your day?" Rodney asked quietly, hanging onto the top of his towel.

John turned quickly—he must not have heard Rodney come in. A flash of something—hurt maybe?—flashed across John's face before it was gone again. "Very long. I'm starting to regret going to Kate in the first place."

"Why?"

His lover rubbed his face, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're pissed at me, Lorne is walking softly around me, Elizabeth keeps trying to get me to confess some grand issue... I'm just having issues coping with all the shit I've been through in the last year. But at least with repression no one treats you like a fucking glass about to break."

"I’m not pissed at you," Rodney said quietly, knowing the instant the words left his mouth that they were true. He wasn't angry with John, not anymore. He was worried, uncertain, unsure. He was never good at being the strong one.

John looked up, meeting his eyes. He looked... tired. "You've avoided me all day, and you're being very careful to stay far enough back that I can't reach for you, not to mention completely covered. I'd rather have you pissed at me than afraid of me."

"I was working," Rodney said quietly. It was the easiest answer.

John smiled a little sadly and looked away. "Okay. I'm going to get some food. What do you want?"

Rodney shrugged. "I'm not hungry, so whatever you're in the mood for. Do you…do you want me to go with you to the mess or should I stay here?"

"I'm just going to grab something in the pantry. Probably an MRE. I don't really feel like being the object of gossip tonight. Most people don't know why I've been grounded, so the speculation is running rampant. I've gotten more sideways stares today than I think I've had in my life." He rose and started for the kitchen.

"Oh," Rodney said as John disappeared into the other room. Well, that had gone well. With a sigh, he moved back to the bathroom, dropping his towel on the floor. He'd put it away later.

Rodney padded out into the kitchen, leaning on the counter as John moved around. "I'm not afraid of you," he said quietly. He wasn't. He just… Rodney sighed. "I don't know what you need or want and I don't want to screw anything up."

John glanced over, and for a moment his gaze was hungry as his eyes swept Rodney's body. "I just want you to be you. That's all I ever want."

Rodney spread his arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

John was immediately there, slipping into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of Rodney's neck. "I don't know why I lost it, and it scares the shit out of me. Kate hinted that it was my loss of control of the situation—of all the situations we've been in the last few months."

"We've been through a lot," Rodney said, wrapping his arms around John, wanting to take away the tension in his lover's body.

"It's been a long year so far. I'm ready for another vacation. This time without the worry about whether I'll have a job when I get back."

Rodney chuckled humorlessly. "God only knows when that will happen."

John huffed into his shoulder, nuzzling a little. "You're the only place I feel normal anymore."

"I'm here for you. Just tell me what you want, what you need."

"I just want to eat dinner and maybe watch a movie and hold you. Touch you. Please."

Rodney nodded, drawing him closer. "Whatever you want, John, whatever you need."

John breathed out, then stood up, although he didn't pull away. "The MREs should be ready."

"What do you need from me, John? Tell me."

John swallowed, and Rodney felt the faint tremors in his body. "I don't know. I wish I did. Right now...I just...need you."

Rodney leaned back so he could see his lover's face. "I need to know what you want so I don't do anything to spook you or anything. Do you want to feed me like we usually do, or is that going to be too much for you?"

That actually got a slight smile from John. "Have I told you lately that I love you? I didn't think you would let me, not tonight."

"So you're hard of hearing, too," Rodney said quietly, lightly. "I asked you what you needed, what you wanted. I'm not a mind reader."

The worn look faded a little from John's eyes as he smiled. "Come eat dinner. You have to be starving by now."

"Not really, but I'll eat because you want me to."

John moved to the table, tugging Rodney along with him. "When did you have lunch? I admittedly didn't stay in the mess very long—I popped in, managed to stand about five minutes of the whispers, and then left again."

"I…" Rodney shrugged. He'd been busy, his mind spinning in fifteen different directions. "I ate something."

"Did you?" John smiled softly and held a piece of the meal up to Rodney's lips.

"I think so," he replied once he chewed the bite John had given him. They were standing in the middle of the kitchen, only a few inches apart from each other. John's free hand gently touched and caressed as his other hand split the two MREs between them, feeding them both.

Rodney noted that as John fed him, his lover slowly relaxed, tension draining out of him. By the time the meal was gone, he seemed like himself again.

Rodney didn't push, not after last night, waiting to see what his lover would do, what he needed.

John's hands roamed free, touching Rodney's body, arousing him. He hummed a bit every time Rodney gasped a little, or moaned when a sensitive spot was pressed against.

"John," Rodney moaned, letting his eyes fall closed.

That got him another happy little hum, as John continued to play.

"Bed, couch…something, please," Rodney breathed, needing more support in case his legs decided to leave without him as they were threatening to.

"Couch." John walked him back, pushing him down and settling on his knees between Rodney's legs. He started to nuzzle again, this time in more interesting places than Rodney's neck.

He spread his legs, giving John room, the sensations pulling moans and groans from his mouth. His head thunked back against the couch, his hands reaching out to tangle in John's hair.

John moaned softly, mouth wrapping around Rodney's erection. He started to suck, tongue teasing at the head.

Rodney's fingers tightened in his lover's hair, his body wanting to buck up into the warmth of John's mouth. "Oh…God…John…"

John's moan sent vibrations all through him. Rodney was a little surprised when he felt John's mouth go a little slack. Looking down, he met his lover's eyes, and read the intent there: John wanted him to let go and fuck his mouth.

Rodney groaned, his head falling back once again. "John…"

He got a few licks and a soft suck before John paused again, waiting.

John had never let him do this before and it was so hot but he also didn't want to hurt him. He thrust up a little, getting an answering suck and moan from his lover. The sensations only made him want to get more, his hips bucking back up again.

John's eyes closed, and what Rodney could see of his expression could only be called bliss.

Rodney reached back, bracing his hands on the couch to give himself a little more leverage. He was careful, not thrusting up too hard or two far, but John's mouth felt so good and with every thrust he was rewarded with more suction, more tongue…more.

John continued to moan around Rodney, which only ramped him up further, encouraged him to keep going.

Honestly, there was no way he was stopping.

He felt John tug at one of his hands, pulling it and putting it back on his own head.

"John..." he moaned, letting his fingers thread through his hair, his hips only making short thrusts now, his body leaning to the side.

His lover just moaned again, mouth going completely slack to let Rodney take whatever he wanted.

Rodney sobbed a little, curling his fingers to scratch along John's scalp, pulling him closer as his cock slid in deeper.

And John let him, went where Rodney tugged him, gave everything up to Rodney.

"Please, John…" he begged, wanting to come.

He got a quiet hum/moan, and a little suck—permission to do what he wanted, come when he wanted.

"More…" he breathed.

John's moan this time was deep, and he started to suck, timing it with Rodney's thrusts.

Rodney swore he could feel every bump of every taste-bud on John's tongue as he did wicked, wicked things to his cock. He hummed and sucked, pulling Rodney higher and higher until he finally crested over the top, his body shuddering hard as he began to come. John sucked him down, swallowing every drop. The pleasure washed through him, leaving him sated and limp, his hand sliding to the side of John's face.

John just held him in his mouth, resting his head against Rodney's thigh and panting a little around him as he softened.

"John…" Rodney whispered, thumb barely moving against skin.

Blown-out hazel eyes lifted to meet his.

He smiled weakly, tugging a little at John's head. He wanted to taste, to feel John over him, covering him.

John let himself be tugged to the couch. As he crawled up, Rodney's eyes were drawn to a prominent wet spot in the middle of John's pants.

"You came?"

His lover nodded a little, curling into Rodney's body.

Rodney let his body slide to the side so they were laid out on the couch, side by side, fabric rubbing Rodney in all the right places. He wrapped his arms around John, letting his hand slip under his lover's waistband, right at the small of his back.

He got a soft, content sigh for it, as John snuggled in. Rodney forgot sometimes, that while John was more dominantly a top, he had also bottomed/subbed before and enjoyed it.

But this was also an area that Rodney had hardly any experience in. While John might be able to switch, he certainly wasn't able. Hell, he hardly related to people on a good day, let alone trying to take care of someone else. That's why he had a cat. They were self-sufficient and he didn't have to do anything except be around when they wanted to be petted.

Rodney absently rubbed his hand over John's back, the fabric of his shirt rumpling a little.

John arched into the caresses, leaning his head back to look at Rodney. He had a little more awareness, but still looked relaxed, content. "Mmmm."

"You okay?"

"Mmm hmmm. Relaxed. Thank you."

"I didn't really do anything. Well…I mean, I did do something, obviously I came, but that's really nothing new when it comes to you and us and ah…sex between us…yeah…"

A slow smile curved John's lips. "Was perfect."

"Are you sure? I really don't do this part well."

"Mmm hmmm. Thank you." John nuzzled at his neck again. "Needed this. Don't want to think for a little while. Is perfect."

"Hmm…okay," Rodney said, patting John's back again. "You can…ah have anything you want, you know that, right? I mean, that's really nothing new. You can have whatever you want usually, too, but…ah… I guess I'm just pointing it out now that you can have whatever else you wanted…any other part or thing or whatnot…"

John mouthed sloppy kisses up Rodney's neck until he found his mouth.

"I…um…" Rodney said, his words finally swallowed up by his lover's mouth. John's kisses were wet and dirty, making Rodney moan and squirm a little as John ground down into him.

His lover shifted so he was straddling Rodney's legs, the damp fabric creating all kinds of friction as they rubbed together. "I need to be naked."

"God," Rodney groaned, getting aroused again from the sensations and from the broken quality in John's voice. "Feels good."

"Yes, yes, please, Rodney..." John whimpered a little, rubbing. "I need, please... hurts..."

Rodney's hands drifted over John's torso, digging at the edge of his shirt, tugging it upward, trying to help John strip. As John sat up and struggled out of his shirt, Rodney's fingers attacked his pants, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the front of his BDUs.

John was semi-hard when Rodney got his pants finally pushed down and out of the way, and he was panting softly. "Don't want to think, just want to forget, for a little while... Please, I'll top later, I promise, I just want to not think right now..."

"Fuck me, you can do it in your sleep," Rodney said, opening his legs. "No thinking necessary."

John groaned, crawling up and grinding their groins together. "Need lube."

"Side table. Drawer." Rodney remembered tossing in a bottle when he'd cleaned this afternoon.

John reached over him, grabbing it. "Good planning."

"Need….need more of them stashed all over," Rodney said, groaning as the first of John's lube-coated fingers slid inside of him.

"Yes..." John hissed the word as he pushed inside Rodney's body, starting to coat him. "So tight..."

Rodney lifted his hips, wanting more of John's fingers inside of him. Deeper. He groaned as John slid over his prostate, igniting a flame of arousal once again.

"Want you to come again when I'm inside you."

"More," Rodney whispered, begging.

John added another finger, pressing deep.

Rodney felt himself stretching, opening up for John. This was so intimate, this kind of touching. No one else made him crazy like this, touched him like this. Rodney felt his head tilt back against the couch cushions, his eyes closing tightly so all he felt was John inside of him, touching him, stroking him.

"So beautiful..." John's voice held a note of awe.

"John…" he groaned, canting his hips up again.

He got an answering moan, and John twisted his fingers, rubbing right against Rodney's hot spot.

Moaning loudly, Rodney's body trembled with need, his cock rock hard. One of his legs was trapped against the back of the couch, held there by John's body. John's other hand—the one not doing wicked things to his ass—was drifting further up Rodney's body, heading right for his nipples.

When he managed to touch them, he twisted a little, dragging sensation out and sending it shooting straight down to Rodney's erection. "Need to be inside you, need to be inside you..." John started chanting to himself softly as he pulled his fingers free and started slicking himself up.

"Yes, please, yes, John, please," Rodney begged, trying to position himself for John, but his lover just took hold of his legs—lube-covered hand and all—and pushed his legs back, nearly folding him in half. Rodney felt John press against him a second before John was shoving inside, pushing deep, stretching him more.

They both groaned as John slid completely home. He dropped his head, breathing hard. "Oh, god, so good..."

Rodney nodded, trying to catch his breath as John filled him. Spreading his legs to the side gave him enough room to unfold them, wrapping them around John's waist instead. He tugged, pulling his lover in deeper, his moan catching in his throat.

John shifted so they were plastered together, chest to chest, his nose in Rodney's neck again. "You smell good."

"Full…so full," Rodney groaned, arms reaching to hold onto John, to hold onto something.

"Just want to stay here like this all night." John rocked slightly, making his cock shift inside Rodney, then he held still again.

"Bed…" Rodney panted. "Bed would be better."

John whimpered, moving a little deeper inside again. "That would mean pulling out."

"I know…" Rodney moaned, "but you…you could stay…"

"Can't walk and be buried so deep you can taste me at the same time."

"Please…John…couch will kill my back if we stay…please."

John whimpered, but sat up slowly. "Bed, please, fast. I need you."

"Yes, yes," Rodney said, moaning as John eased out of him. His lover had him by the hand a second later, dragging him into the bedroom and pushing him onto the bed, crawling up over him a heartbeat later.

And then John was pressing back inside, joining them together, and cuddling close again. "Rodney..."

"Oh god," Rodney moaned. For a brief moment, it was almost too much. He swore he could feel John's cock all the way up into his throat and that had to be why he couldn't catch his breath. Full. So full…full of John, buried deep inside of him, right where he loved to be…John thrusting into him… He moaned again, tugging John closer.

John was chanting his name, repeating it over and over, breathlessly. His hips started to move a little more, gentle rocks in and out a few inches at a time.

Just as Rodney was beginning to thrust up to meet him, John stopped, pressing in deep, his arms wrapped around and underneath Rodney.

"Not yet. Don't want to come, just want to stay like this, so deep, feeling you aroused with me."

Rodney whimpered, but nodded. Whatever John wanted.

John's hand worked between them, stroking Rodney a few times. "Stay hard, just like this."

"Yes….yes, sir," he panted, head back, exposing his neck which John took full advantage of, licking and nipping and biting. Every touch of his mouth sent shivers of pleasure and pain throughout Rodney's body, which only made John growl, low and deep.

He started to mark, finding places that didn't have even traces of old marks to stake his claim in vivid Technicolor.

Rodney dug in fingers into John's back, nails scraping against skin as he arched up into John's mouth, moaning and whimpering, breathing only for the few seconds when John backed off before finding a new place.

When John finally lifted his head, there was a ring of marks across Rodney's shoulders. He growled, leaning in to lick at the string.

Pain mixed with pleasure erupted along the line that John's tongue made, Rodney's fingers digging into John's back once again.

John hummed. "Mine."

"Yes," Rodney whispered, trying to shift, but John held him in place.

"Want to keep you like this forever. Buried deep inside you, feeling you all around me."

"As…as long as I can."

John made a happy noise, thrusting a few times again before stilling and nuzzling at Rodney's neck again.

Rodney moaned, trying to catch his breath. His hands slid down John's body, resting just on the tops of John's ass cheeks. Between the pressure of John lying on top of him and the pleasure of being filled, taken like this, Rodney could feel himself dropping down, his body and mind responding to John.

They stayed like that for what felt like a long time, John occasionally moving, enough to keep them both interested, aroused, but not enough to let either of them get off.

Rodney was in heaven and hell, trapped somewhere in the middle as John shifted again, moving within him before settling in once again. He was down to small whimpers and moans, the best he could do right now like this.

John's breathing was ragged. "I... I have to come soon. Can't do this much longer..."

Rodney simply clutched John tighter to him, trying to rock slightly, but John had him pinned too effectively, too well.

"Hold still and just let me love you." John whispered it in his ear.

He whimpered quietly and nodded, dragging his hands along John's back, turning his face toward John.

John started rocking a little more, in and out, dragging the pleasure out so it was like they were floating in it.

Their cheeks were rubbing together, the stubble rough where they touched. Rodney's cock was trapped between their bodies, leaking pre-come and getting stroked with each of John's thrusts. His lover was determined, focused.

John was moaning softly, his thrusts starting to get a little harder, a little longer. His breath coming a little faster.

All Rodney could do was moan and whimper, wanting more and less at the same time as John took him apart piece by piece.

"Come for me. Want to feel you."

Rodney sobbed quietly, his orgasm quickly following John's request. It was slow and deep, his trembling starting from within and taking his breath away.

John continued to thrust all the way through it, rubbing against Rodney's prostate and dragging his orgasm out.

With John milking every last drop out of him, Rodney continued to shudder and tremble, the waves of pleasure washing through him until it was nearly on the side of too much.

And John was still inside him, still hard. As Rodney came down, he pushed all the way in and held still again.

Rodney simply let out a half-hearted moan, sated and post-coital. John could twist him into a pretzel and he wouldn't care right now.

John shifted around, sending a few more sparks through Rodney's body, then he buried his face in Rodney's neck, panting.

"You didn't…" Rodney whispered, "…didn't come."

"Don't want to. Not yet."

Rodney whimpered quietly.

"Just want this, feeling you tight and hot all around me, pressed against me, filling every sense I have."

"Here," he whispered, turning his face a little toward John.

His lover made a soft, content noise, turning his head enough to lick at the corner of Rodney's mouth.

Rodney shifted, sending sparks through his body. His mouth dropped open in a quiet moan which John moved to cover almost immediately, lips against lips, mouth to mouth, swallowing Rodney's moans.

John kissed softly, licking in and then backing off to nibble, only to dive back in again.

There was no way that Rodney was going to get it up again, but this was… He simply let go, giving John everything.

John seemed content to just make out, kissing lazily, wetly, softly, sweetly... it was like he was cataloging every type of kiss.

Rodney let himself get lost in the feel of John—in him, over him, covering him, kissing him, touching him. His world was John and John was his world and there was nothing else.

John's hips stuttered a little. He backed off the kiss enough to whisper against Rodney's lips. "How sore are you? Can I fuck you like this?"

Rodney simply nodded. It was what John wanted and Rodney was lost in him. Anything he wanted, anything at all. He moaned quietly, arching his head back slightly, exposing his pale neck.

John took the invitation, licking and sucking on Rodney's neck, starting to rock into him slowly again.

When John's mouth reached the slim silver collar he wore around his neck, Rodney moaned, his hands tightening on John's back again, fingers digging in as he made his own marks on his lover.

"Mine." It was breathed into the metal.

Rodney simply moaned louder. He was so full and it felt so good.

John licked around the collar, his tongue sweeping underneath it as his thrusts got longer, harder.

Clenching down on John's cock, Rodney tried to make it better, tried to make his master happy, tried to give him what he needed, wanted. He needed to be happy, content…better.

John's breath stuttered on a moan, and instead of licking, he was now just panting into Rodney's skin, moist and warm and sending delicious shivers all through him.

He was close. Close to filling him, claiming him.

John started to repeat Rodney's name on every exhale, and he pushed himself up slightly, getting better leverage, finally starting to fuck Rodney hard.

Rodney moaned loudly, his breath catching in his throat every time John thrust in deep.

"Oh, oh..." And then there was heat, deep inside him. John's expression was lost in bliss, his head dropping back and a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face like a caress.

Rodney wrapped his arms around him tightly, holding him closely as his climax continued to set his muscles twitching.

John sagged, all his weight pressing Rodney into the bed.

John's…all John's. He was happy, content. He'd given John this, helped him, loved him. Sighing quietly, Rodney leaned his head against the top of John's head and closed his eyes, breathing in the musky smell of his lover and sex.

"Nngh."

Tilting his head down, Rodney snuffed into John's mop of hair, moaning quietly, contentedly.

"Crushing you?"

Rodney shook his head slightly.

"Sleepy."

"Mmm." Yes. Sleep would be good.

John shifted, his cock slipping out of Rodney's body as he slid to the side, still pressed close.

As soon as John moved, Rodney whimpered, his ass reminding him of what he'd done tonight. He'd been well fucked. Really well fucked.

"Sore?" John was back to nuzzling again.

Rodney nodded reluctantly. He knew better than to lie. His ass would hurt a lot more than this if he did.

Soft lips pressed into one of the marks. "If it still hurts tomorrow, I'll put some cream on it and kiss it better."

With a quiet nod, Rodney shifted, straightening his legs and trying not to hiss as his muscles realigned. The cool air made him shiver, turning into John a little more.

His lover wrapped his arms around Rodney, tangling them together more firmly. "Sleep."

With a quiet sigh, Rodney let his eyes close again, snuggling into John's warmth, the security of his body.

***

John puttered around their kitchen the next morning as Rodney showered. He was letting his lover go it alone, since he had a mission this afternoon. It was bad enough that he had forgotten his own rule and fucked his lover last night—and Rodney was sore because of it. He wasn’t going to add to the problem this morning.

Instead, he got breakfast ready and tried not to think about the fact that he wasn’t going to be going with them, and that, standing on the balcony watching his team leave without him later, the gossip and speculation would probably triple.

John heard the water turn off and knew Rodney was almost done, drying off his body before he tugged on the clothes John had left in the bathroom for him. Boxers and his uniform.

John shivered a little at the thought, wishing he was in there, running his hands over damp skin. Licking it... No. He had a mission. John had to be good.

Rodney appeared a few moments later, body still half damp, towel in one hand and a tube of something in the other. He was sheepish as he approached. "Do you mind?"

"That sore, huh?" John took it, dropping to his knees and twirling his fingers to get Rodney to turn around. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that last night."

"It's fine," Rodney said quietly, spreading his legs for John. There were still droplets of water in the small of his back, hovering just above his ass cheeks.

John was a strong man—but not that strong. He couldn't have resisted leaning in to lick away the stray drops if someone had been holding a gun to his head.

"Mmm," Rodney hummed quietly, approvingly. John knew right then that Rodney had come out here half wet just for him.

With a soft moan, John chased down every spec of moisture, until all that was left was pure Rodney. He was hard—achingly so—and wished his lover didn't have to be in the gateroom in a few short hours.

John turned him, pressing kisses into Rodney's groin, getting a welcoming erection and a moan in return.

Opening his mouth, John let the hot, silky cock slide over his tongue. So good. He should stop. Rodney would be off-world, and he needed his concentration... But then there were hands in his hair, tugging, and John's ability to resist was gone. Completely and utterly. He closed his eyes and moaned around Rodney.

"Whatever you need, John." The words were quiet, whispered.

Humming, John started to move, blowing his lover, loving the taste, the feel, the fullness of it.

Rodney moaned above him, his hands sliding gently through his hair, petting him, caressing him.

John got a hand around his own erection and started to jerk himself off he set up a rhythm.

"Oh….John…so hot…"

"Mmmmm." John sucked harder, looking up through his lashes.

Rodney was watching him, his eyes at half-mast, mostly pupil.

Slowing down, John focused just on the head of Rodney's erection, not breaking eye contact.

"Oh god," Rodney breathed, locking his knees.

He sucked hard, pressed his tongue right against the sensitive bundle of nerves right under the head. He was getting close, his hand speeding up on his own aching member.

"John…please…"

Humming, John blinked once. Come, Rodney. Let me taste it. I want to be finding traces of you in my mouth all day.

With a groan, Rodney closed his eyes and came, spilling into John's open and willing mouth.

He swallowed every drop, not letting Rodney slip free until he had milked every pulse from his lover. Then he pulled off and licked him clean, just in case there were a few stray drops. Then, pushing his nose into Rodney's groin, John sped up his hand trying to find his own completion.

It didn't take more than a few seconds, a few more strokes of his own hand before he was coming, moaning and panting into Rodney's skin.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, he tilted his head to look up at his lover. "I don' seem to be too good at discipline t'day."

"Whatever you need, John. I told you that." Rodney's voice was quiet, loving, his hand stroking gently along his jaw.

Closing his eyes, John let himself have this, just for a minute. He let himself sink down, let himself be loved and cared for while he just accepted it.

Rodney shifted, dropping down to his knees and pulling John into a hug, tucking his face into John's shoulder and hanging on.

Finally, with a soft sigh, John lifted his face from where he had just been breathing in his lover. "Need to put the cream on you, so you can get dressed."

"I have time."

"Need to give you enough time to get into the right headspace. This is dangerous right before a mission." And he wouldn't be there to prevent mishaps. He had to rely on Teyla and Ronon and Lorne to bring his Rodney home safe.

"1400 mission departure."

John sighed. "Be careful out there."

"I will."

"I wish I was going with you."

"I know," Rodney said quietly, holding John a little tighter.

"I have to go see Kate again soon. It's going to be a daily thing for now. Hopefully I can figure this out, soon."

"You will. You're stubborn enough to make sure."

John kissed his lover, letting their mouths slide together, a perfect fit. "Stand up and let me lube you up."

"Mmm…only if you're sliding in."

John chuckled. "No more fucking until you get back. We'll have celebratory sex and I'll fuck you through the mattress then."

Rodney leaned in, kissing him again before moving away and turning, putting his back to John. Then, leaning forward on his hands he pointed his ass right at John. And waited.

John groaned a little. "You're killing me here." He got some of the cream on his finger and rubbed it down his lover's crack, then pushed the tip just inside, trying to make sure he coated it completely.

His lover was a little red so John got some more cream and pushed in a little deeper, wanting to make sure he got all of the sore spots. Rodney groaned quietly—half in pleasure, half in pain.

"Bad?"

"It'll be fine," Rodney panted.

John kissed each cheek. "I'm sorry. I won't forget you have a mission again."

"I could have reminded you. I chose not to."

"It's supposed to be my job to remember." John got a bit more of the cream, rubbing it inside his lover.

Rodney groaned again, panting quietly. "Love to feel you inside me."

"I love to be inside you."

John curled his finger a little, getting a pleasure-filled moan from his lover.

"Are you getting hard again?" It was almost hypnotic, watching his finger disappearing and reappearing.

"God, yes," he panted.

John grinned a little. "Can you come just from this, from one finger and nothing else?"

Rodney nodded and John could see a light sheen of sweat across his lover's shoulders. This was just about the best way to apply cream.

He got a bit more—he was going to have to get another tube from Carson, this one was almost gone—and pushed back inside Rodney. If nothing else, he would know his lover was completely covered. No sore spot would be left without attention.

And Rodney was so beautiful like his, his ass in the air, offered up to John, legs spread wide. His cock was hard, brushing against his stomach. Rodney's head was down, resting on his forearms as he concentrated on the sensations John was giving him and keeping his body still—without the use of any bondage. This was because he wanted to, because he was submitting to John, taking whatever John gave him without argument or complaint.

It was absolutely amazing. They had come so far together, and still it felt new, powerful, brightly-colored... John wished he could slide home, could feel Rodney clench around him, but that was out of the question this morning. "After you come, I want you to blow me. I can't have your ass, so I'll take your mouth."

"Yes, sir," was Rodney's panted response, the words drifting into a moan.

Pressing his finger a little deeper, John found Rodney's prostate and started to massage it.

Apart from the shudders rolling through his lover's body and the moans, Rodney remained still, submitting to John, letting him play and tease and pleasure.

"I love you like this. Lost in your own pleasure, open for anything I want. You're gorgeous, Rodney. Absolutely beautiful."

"Yours."

Humming, John rewarded him with a hard press right against his prostate.

Rodney's strangled "oh god" sounded so right.

"Come for me. Let me see you fall apart."

John let up on Rodney's prostate and then pressed in again, harder. The strangled moan caught in Rodney's throat, his entire body pausing for a half-second before John felt the orgasm rolling through his lover. Muscles clenched down on John's finger, Rodney's body trembling as he spilled over his stomach and the floor.

John massaged that special spot until right when he judged it would be too much sensation. Then he pulled his finger free slowly, the cream making sure there was no friction in the movement.

Even as Rodney's body was still trembling with aftershocks, John gently pushed him onto his knees. His face showed how wrecked he was, how beautiful he was like this. John leaned forward, pressing kisses to the top of Rodney’s head.

"Open your mouth." John was panting now himself, hard and leaking again. He knew no man their age should be able to have this much sex, but he wasn't going to question it. Maybe it was something in the Pegasus water.

Rodney complied, looking up at John with glazed eyes.

John positioned himself, and then slid the head of his cock over Rodney's lips before pushing it between them.

They both moaned as John slid in, Rodney immediately starting to suck and lick at John's cock.

He kept his thrusts shallow, more letting Rodney suck him than really fucking him.

Rodney's eyes were closed as he concentrated, moaning and humming around John's cock.

It didn't take much more. John managed to whisper a warning before he was coming, pouring himself down Rodney's throat.

His lover swallowed as quickly as he could, but a few drops escaped his mouth, trailing down the side of his face. Rodney continued to swallow and suck until John softened completely. Then, he simply held John in his mouth, breathing through his nose, bliss on his face.

Pulling out, John sank down to the floor, putting his arms around his lover and holding him close after licking away the few stray drops of come on Rodney's face.

Rodney settled in close, tucked up against John's body, completely relaxed. He had to be if he wasn't complaining about the hard, cold floor.

"We really need to get up soon. Don't want you to be in pain later."

"…m good."

John huffed a little, then forced himself to sit up. "C'm on. Breakfast."

Rodney peered up at him, only opening one eye, one really sated and content eye if John read it correctly.

Smiling, he traced a finger along Rodney's jaw line. "I'll feed you, but you need to go get your pillow to kneel on so you don't hurt yourself."

Nodding, Rodney turned his head, pressing a kiss to the inside if John's palm. It took him a moment—and several muttered curses—to get him upright, padding into the bedroom, his towel and tube of cream forgotten on the floor.

John grinned and gathered up the forgotten items, setting them aside. He grabbed the food he had pulled out for them—the last of the fresh fruit he kept in the suite, and some day-old bread he'd grabbed at lunch before running out yesterday—and settled into his chair to wait for his lover.

Rodney returned a few moments later bearing more than just his pillow. Clutched in his other hand were the thin silver wrist cuffs, cock ring, and nipple rings that matched the collar he always wore. He handed them to John before settling down next to the chair, offering up his wrists silently to him.

John licked his lips, rubbing at the metal. None of it was particularly tight or restricting—it was jewelry, not bondage gear, meant to be symbolic. It wouldn't get in the way while Rodney was off-world, but it would remind him that he was John's. With a nod, he slipped them on, twisting the locks into place. "Don't forget that you're mine. And that you have to come back through the gate whole and safe."

Rodney nodded, giving John the access to his body that he required to put each piece in place. Once the cock ring was in place, he finally knelt down once again, scooting between John's legs, pressing in close.

John ran a hand through Rodney's hair, petting him. "How's your ass feeling?"

"Sore."

"The cream helping?"

"Think so." He nuzzled in closer to John, his breath hot against skin.

"Mmmm, good." John started to feed them both, making sure Rodney got more than he did—he could just go to the mess later, but his lover would be god knows where.

And Rodney ate everything from John's hand, pressing in close to him, contented sighs floating up to John every now and then.

This was good. Very good. The stress, worry, tension he knew was waiting for him outside their door didn't matter here. He cherished these quiet times, when they were just touching, just together.

This helped ground John, helped him push everything else to the side. Here, it was simply John and Rodney and caring for his lover was…while not easy, it was fulfilling in a way he could have never imagined.

When the food was gone, John just let them both stay in position a little longer, petting Rodney, loving the little noises his lover made. But a quick glance at the clock made him sigh—he had to be down to see Kate in about thirty minutes. "We have to get moving."

"I know." Rodney's response was quiet, but alert. He'd come up from his earlier deeper headspace.

"Love you." John didn't care that his expression was soft, probably sappy.

Rodney pressed a kiss to John's groin, just above his cock. "Love you."

John tugged him up, leaning down to meet him for a kiss.

Rodney opened up, moaning into the kiss, tongue battling a little with John's, sliding together.

It was hot, it was good, and John had to break it before they got too lost in it again. "I have to get dressed. Have a meeting soon. Skipping the psych session probably isn't a good way to get fixed."

"This doesn't make up for it?" Rodney's eyes were teasing, the corner of his mouth raised in amusement.

John laughed softly. "Yeah, if this is the reward I get for going, I'll be there on time, and talk about anything she wants, every day."

"You have me, any time you want. That should be a pretty good incentive…at least I think it is."

"It is. More than just 'pretty good' actually." John smiled as he stood, helping Rodney to his feet as well.

"Good. That's what I want to hear. A little ego stroking never hurt anyone."

"Mmmm. How about fantastic, amazing, beautiful, perfect..."

Rodney leaned in capturing John's mouth in a kiss, his hands on either side of his face, holding him close.

John opened up, let Rodney control it for a moment, let him claim John's mouth.

He pulled off gently, nipping at John's bottom lip before lifting his eyes to look at his lover. "Listen to Kate. Don't get overwhelmed or worried. Lorne will make sure we're safe."

He sometimes forgot that Rodney knew him as well as he knew his lover, so he gave the other man a somewhat sheepish smile. "I'll try. I hate that I'm not going with you, but... just be careful okay? Listen to Lorne, and let Teyla and Ronon protect you."

"I will…as much as I ever can." Rodney's smile was equally sheepish.

John stole another quick kiss before linking their hands and leading his lover to the bedroom. "I'll listen to Kate and try not to worry, and you'll listen to Lorne and try not to get into trouble. A fair trade I think."

Rodney snorted, tugging John into the bathroom. Yeah, the come on his stomach should probably be cleaned up.

They quickly got cleaned up and dressed, with plenty of caresses and kisses on both sides. Finally, John knew he had to leave or he would be late. "I'll see you again before you go."

"Of course."

Because he knew he wouldn't be able to do this later, he leaned in and kissed Rodney deeply one last time. "I love you. Come home safe."

"Mmm….do my best."

"I know you will."

"Go terrorize Kate. I have to go to the labs and make my minions cower before I leave."

Laughing, John pulled away. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Oh, stop," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "That's my line."

Still chuckling, John blew him a kiss and wandered out, heading down to see Kate. His good mood lasted until he was in, sipping on the coffee she offered, and the reason he was there came crashing back.

"You seem a little less stressed this morning," she said calmly, sipping on her tea, croissants on the small table next to the chairs.

He felt his ears get hot. "I, ah, engaged in a little targeted stress relief this morning."

"How did it help?"

He shrugged. "I'm less tense this morning, or I was. Given how much gossip got around just by last night, I'm sure after my team goes through the gate without me, it will redouble and I'll be ready to hurt something again by tonight."

"And how will that help you?"

He looked away. "It won't. I'm trying not to let it get to me, but... it's funny, I've been talked about behind my back most of my life. But this time, for this reason, it bothers me."

"Why do you think that's the case? How is it different now?"

He thought about it for a minute, finally sighing. "Probably because the things I've been talked about before were all stuff I had made a conscious decision about, and knew how it would be perceived. This time... I don't really have any control over it."

"Like what? Can you give me examples?"

"The most recent that comes to mind was the black mark. I didn't know it would go that far, but when I took the helicopter against orders to try and rescue my men, I knew if I survived there would be consequences. I considered it an acceptable trade."

Kate nodded. "But now? What are they talking about now that makes you feel so out of control?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. Most people don't know why I was taken off active duty, but there's a lot of speculation. But if they find out the military commander of a base in a war zone has lost his mind, things won't be pretty."

"Do you really think you've lost your mind?"

"I don't know. And that's what..." He said it quietly.

Kate ducked her head, trying to meet his eyes. "And that's what?"

He looked at her through his eyelashes—not trying to be coy, but unable to meet her gaze head on. "What terrifies me."

"You're allowed to be frightened, John."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. People need to be able to look at me and see me handling things, dealing with the situation. They need to know their leader isn't afraid, to give them the courage to set their own fear aside."

"Do you really think your men will look at you any different if they know that some things out here scare you, too?"

He struggled to find a way to explain it to her. "It's not that... I don't think they'll look at me different, no. But... they're terrified out here, and for good reason. Being able to look to your leaders, see them calm, collected, unafraid... it gives them the strength to find their own courage. I can't, won't, take that away from them."

Kate inclined her head slightly. "So where does that leave you? Would you rather just pick up and walk out instead?"

"No, that's why I'm here. But..." He sighed again, cutting his eyes to the side. This was hard, admitting this stuff at all, much less out loud. "That's why I've repressed so much of it for so long, and probably why I'm here in the first place."

"So what do you want me to do, John? Do you just want me to be a sounding board so you can get it off your chest and then bury it again?"

He huffed. "That's probably not very healthy is it? And we'll just end up doing this again when I lose my mind again in another year or two."

Kaye shrugged. "Possibly. Either that or something else might happen to you or your team and you may not be available to have this conversation at that time."

Twitching, he nodded. "Okay, so repressing isn't a good option. Give me some others. I don't... that's how I've always dealt with shit. I don't know what else I can do."

"Why do you feel that you've only been able to rely on yourself?"

God, they were going to have to dredge up all his issues if he wanted to fix this, weren't they? "Because... then I don't have to... people let you down. They decide they don't like you, they leave, they die. It was always... easier... to just rely on myself I guess. I know I've had people in my life, my surrogate family of sorts, that cared, but... even then it wasn't until recently that I even realized they cared."

"What about your family back on Earth?"

"My father... has more or less disowned me, and my mother died when I was pretty young. I spent a few summers with my Grandmother, on my Mom's side, before she died—she taught me to cook. I haven't spoken to my brother in years, either. I have some friends I've made over the years that are... that think of me like family. I just didn't realize that until my last leave on Earth with Rodney, actually."

"Why are you estranged from your brother?"

"He never approved of me. He and my father are a lot alike, and I... wasn't like them. My dreams and ambitions were so far outside theirs, they never really understood, or agreed."

"What did they want you to do?"

John sighed. "Run the family business. I'm the eldest, so everyone assumed I would take over. When I had other plans..."

"They didn't approve," she said nodding with understanding. "So when you were growing up did you and your brother get along?"

John shrugged, staring off into the distance, into his past. "Occasionally. We were more or less raised by the staff, most of the time. And while I loved spending summers with our Grandmother, he hated it. We were always very different people, right from the start. So after a while, we didn't see each other much. During school, we had our own sets of friends and classes, and during the summers, he started staying home, and I kept going to California to see Grandma. So we didn't see each other much, except for formal occasions, dinners and the like."

"So apart from the staff and your Grandmother, you took after yourself."

"Yeah, pretty much. Our father was busy running the company. He was always going around the world on business trips, or if he was home, holed up in his office cutting deals or whatever. David loved it, was always trying to be a part of that world. I... didn't care and wasn't interested in learning about it."

"So what did you do?"

"The house where we lived most of the time has a big stable, so I rode a lot. As I got older, I discovered skateboards and snuck out to go do that whenever I could. By then I was pretty firmly the black sheep of the family, so even most of the staff just ignored me."

"So you were more or less on your own? Since what age?"

"Well, my Grandmother died when I was nine, so probably after that. Before she died, I towed the line more or less, to ensure my stay with her wouldn't get taken away as a punishment. My father really didn't approve of her, at all, but she was a relative and for all his faults, he had loved my mother. So he tolerated me going every summer as long as I didn't do anything too against the grain."

"So you were on your own, fending for yourself at age ten?" Her words were calm, even, non-judgmental.

He shrugged. "I guess. I didn't really think about it, to be honest. I missed my Grandmother, so that was more important, more overwhelming, than anything else. She was an amazing lady; I had so much fun when I was with her. I could be a kid, instead of the well-behaved little clone my father wanted at home. And I put what she taught me to good use. She taught me to cook, and I still do, for recreation sometimes. Rodney is going to try and smuggle in some actual cooking equipment and spices and stuff for me in the science manifests, if he can."

"What was so special about her, besides her cooking?"

He actually smiled at that. "She's the one who taught me how to skateboard. God, my father would have been pissed if he knew she was where I had learned it. And we'd go to museums, camping... I always hated the end of summers and having to go home. She would have loved to have me live with her, I think, but she believed I'd be better off at home, where I could get a better education."

"She taught you to skateboard?"

He laughed. "She was pretty awesome. This little old lady out there in a helmet and pads—she made sure we both had all our safety gear every time—and she'd be out there showing me how to do flips and turns and stuff. I have no idea if she learned it because I was interested, or if it was something she always did. She died before I got old enough to think to ask."

"How did she die?"

He shifted his gaze, looking out the window. "I don't know, not completely. I was told she had died, and I remember going to the funeral. But if anyone told me exactly what happened, I have no memory of it. And when I tried to ask my father, he wouldn't answer. I stopped asking, and now we don't talk at all."

"Did you blame yourself?"

He grinned a little sheepishly. "Probably. I'm not sure what I thought I could do, but I always wondered. She died not long after I had gone back home for the school year."

"So you felt guilty about something you had no control over and then your father more or less left you on your own."

Blinking, he nodded slowly. "I guess, yeah. When you put it that way, it sounds a lot worse than I thought it was at the time."

"Did you have any closer friends at that time?"

"Then? No." He quirked his lips slowly. "I was pretty withdrawn for a while, so anyone I might have considered a friend just moved on. And David and I still had nothing in common, so... I was on my own, pretty much. I spent a lot of time out with the horses."

"When was the first time you left home?"

"What do you mean?"

Kate looked at him for a minute. "When was the first time you left your house, your father, to head off on your own?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture. "Well, I, ah, didn't spend a whole lot of time at home after that. I slept there, and ate there, but otherwise I found other places to be. I... ran away for the first time when I was twelve, after an argument with my father. He called in a few favors and had some cop friends of his haul me back home a few days later. After that I tried it a few more times, after particularly bitter arguments, with the same results. When I was sixteen, I decided I wanted to fly, and if I wanted to make it happen, I had to have a clean record and a stellar academic record. I stopped being a deliberate pain in my father's ass and started studying."

It was odd. She'd known he'd run away, almost like a sixth sense. But she hadn't batted an eye. "Why did you leave?"

He shrugged. "I was angry, and to be honest, I didn't think anyone would notice or care that first time. After that... it was one of the few forms of rebellion I had at my disposal that I was willing to use."

"So the last time you ran away was when you were sixteen?"

He nodded. "I had charmed my way into an air show—more for something to do than anything else. I saw the planes, saw what they were doing... It was.... They were so free, I managed to talk my way in to where the pilots were lounging while they waited to suit up, and was pretty much hooked. I wanted to be those guys. I had been pretty... aimless up until then. I knew I didn't want to run my father's business, but other than that, I had no clue what I wanted from life. But... after that, I had a goal."

"So you buckled down, started studying."

"Yeah. I didn't bother to tell my father the real reason for my sudden change of heart. He just thought I'd finally gotten over the 'phase' I had been going through. I used to hear a lot about how he had to pay a ton of extra money for me because they wanted to toss me out because of low scores. I went from barely making good enough marks to stay in school to suddenly being at the top of every class. After we got through a few rounds of everyone checking me for cheating, everyone else pretty much assumed the same thing as my father."

Kate nodded. "I'd like to go back to talk a little more about the years that you ran away from home. Most people would do anything to live the kind of life you were born into. Why was it so horrible to you?"

John sighed softly, looking away. "I got a lot of lectures about how I was ungrateful, a disgrace to the Sheppard name, a lazy slacker that would end up on the street if I wasn't careful."

"What did your father say to you?"

"There were times I thought he hated me. I still do, sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't what he wanted. I…I know I should have been grateful. You're right, I was born into privilege and money. I never really had to worry about what I would eat or whether I would have a warm bed. But..." He couldn't meet her eyes.

"But what?"

"The price of all of that was... more than I was willing to pay, even at a young age."

"When you ran away, how long did it usually take before you went back home?"

"A few days, usually. I think it took them that long to realize I was gone."

"Who noticed?"

"My school. They would call to find out why I hadn't been in classes for a few days."

"How did it make you feel when you learned that it wasn't your father who noticed you were missing?"

"I wasn't surprised he hadn't noticed. He rarely noticed me when I was there, unless I had embarrassed him, or if he was trying to cram me into the perfect son mold."

"You embarrassed him? How?"

"Well, being dragged home by the police was a big one. And then my... sexuality became an issue as I got older. Not to mention the whole military thing."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I'd hear about it. A lot. In detail."

"How would you hear about it?"

John ran a hand through his hair. "Usually loudly."

Kate tipped her head to the side. "How?"

He shrugged. "How else do you speak loudly?"

She narrowed her eyes. John knew what she had meant, but had chosen to be ornery—and she knew it. "What would he say?"

Sighing, he gave in. He didn't know why any of this really mattered, but if he wanted to get back on duty ASAP, he had to play the game correctly. "Pretty much what I told you. That I was a disgrace, that I was a lazy slacker that would never amount to anything. That no son of his was a fucking queer. Sometimes he was right, and sometimes he wasn't. I went out of my way to piss him off at times."

"Why?"

"Because I could." He quirked the corner of his lips. "I went through a pretty bratty phase."

Kate's lips twitched in amusement, but her voice was calm, level. "Why did you want to piss off your father? Was it a way to get back at him? To take control?"

"Probably a little of both. At the time I didn't give much thought to why. It wasn't until I decided I wanted to fly that the game got old."

"Why was that?"

"Why did I want to fly?" He gave her an incredulous look. "To be honest, I don't really understand how everyone doesn't want to."

Kate shook her head. "No. Why did the game get old?"

"I wanted to fly. Everything else became secondary."

"It was a chance for you to get away from everything, wasn't it?"

He looked out the window, and the clear blue Lantean sky. "Flying is... I can't describe it. It's freedom, it's exhilaration, it's pushing yourself as far as you can and then going a little further. Even before I decided to join the Air Force, I was always reaching for the sky. I always wanted to have the highest jumps, go the fastest, the farthest, of anyone else."

"Pushing yourself to do well is not a bad trait."

"Maybe."

"Why maybe?"

"It's gotten me into trouble more than once."

"How so?"

"Black mark. Reprimands. KP duty. I've gotten pretty much every punishment you can get and still be in the military. Quite frankly I'm surprised I still am."

"For trying to do well? I doubt that."

"No, not for trying to do well. For not being willing to concede defeat, and going against orders to prove I'm right."

"Looking back, do you think you were wrong in what you did?"

John closed his eyes against the sorrow that always lurked around the edges when he was forced to think about his past. "I'm only sorry I didn't save them. That it was all for nothing."

"So you think your actions were wrong?"

"No, but I know I'm pretty much alone in that assessment."

"Does that bother you?"

"It bothers me that three good men are dead. The rest...doesn't matter."

"So being alone doesn't bother you."

He opened his eyes, tilting his head slightly. "I'm not alone. I have Rodney."

Kate nodded, jotting something down in her pad. There was a lot written there already. When had she done that? "When was the last time you spoke with your father?"

He tried to see what she was writing, but she was good—she managed to shift it out of his view without making it look like she was doing it on purpose—not enough for him to call her on it without looking like as ass. "I don't know. Years."

"What did you talk about?"

"It was just after the whole Afghanistan thing, before my hearing, before I went to Vegas to wait it out. We screamed at each other until I grabbed the keys to my motorcycle and left. I didn't try to contact him again, and he's never tried to get in touch with me."

She nodded again. "Why do you think that you and your father don't get along?"

John shrugged. "I'm too much like my mother, with just enough of him thrown in to make us butt heads."

"That the only reason?"

"Probably not, but since we've never gotten along, it was the first one."

"Was he strict when you were a kid?"

John snorted. "What part of trying to force me into the image he had of what his son would be like doesn't sound strict to you? He didn't care about who I was, who I am. All he cared about was what image he wanted to project, and being pissed at me when I didn't tow the party line."

"How about before your mother died."

"I don't remember then. I was pretty young when she died."

Kate nodded again, silent as she looked him over carefully. "Okay, John. I think we covered a lot today. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? We still have a few minutes."

He blinked. "Um... can I ask a question? What does all this have to do with me losing my fuc— losing my head in the field?"

"You'd be surprised at how events in our early, formative years can mold and shape the way we grow up."

"Yeah, but I was fine until this last mission." He scrunched his face. "Not that trolling back through my oh-so-happy childhood isn't a blast, but... how will this help me get it together to be safe in the field again?"

Kate leaned forward, her eyes intense. "John, think about this question seriously before you answer me. And honestly, I'm not looking for an answer right now. Were you really 'fine' before the last mission? When was the last time that you were 'fine' with yourself, with your partner, with your life?"

His eyes widened. He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again at a sharp look from her. Gazing out the window for a moment, he responded quietly. "I've been more fine on Atlantis than I can remember being, with only a very few exceptions. If I lose this place, Rodney, the team here..."

"John," Kate's hand was heavy on his arm. "Really think about my question. We can talk about it tomorrow."

Blowing out a breath, he nodded. "All right. Same bat time, same bat channel?"

She smiled gently, squeezing his arm. "Exactly right. I'll have breakfast waiting."

He gave her a ghost of a smile, reaching over to cover her hand on his arm briefly—the best he could do for a thanks right now, he was all talked out—then stood up. "Enjoy the rest of your day then."

"You, too," she said, her voice following him out into the hallway.

Feeling a bit at odds, John wandered toward the labs. Maybe he could find something useful to do there. Maybe something physical enough—like hauling equipment around for them—so he could shut him brain down for a reboot.

Rodney was there, waving his hands and yelling at one of the scientists about almost blowing up the lab—again.

John leaned against a wall and let the sound wash over him. He was pretty sure he was one of very few—possibly the only—person who found a Rodney-rant soothing.

"And no, I don't want to hear it. You knew you weren't supposed to look at, let alone touch, that device," Rodney was ranting. "There's a reason all new members of the Atlantis mission are given a three month breaking in period—because we're trying to make sure you don't break any of us with your stupid, moronic know-it-all attitude. And yes, I am allowed to have that attitude because I am in charge and I'm a genius and I've also saved this city far too many times in the past year when you were back on Earth sipping Starbucks coffee and playing with yourself instead of doing real work. And another thing…"

"He is on quite a row, isn't it?" Zelenka said quietly, startling John a little.

Trying to look like a geek with fuzzy hair hadn't just managed to sneak up on him, John cocked a grin. "Gotta break in the newbies before they blow something up."

"Oh and this one came close," Radek said, keeping his voice low, his eyes on the scene still playing out—loudly—on the other side of the room. "It is Sanchez, from your country. Worked at Area 51 for a time. Believe he and Rodney had a run in there as well. He is good scientist but tends to…" Radek's hand waved in the air. "You know."

"Charge ahead with no idea what he's doing, leaving a path of tears and destruction behind?" John shook his head. "I'll leave him to it then. Need anything moved? That's actually why I'm here. I have some downtime, and I know you guys always have equipment that needs to be shuffled around."

Radek shifted beside John as he turned to look at him. It was careful, controlled, evaluating. "I have a few Ancient devices that need your gene."

Keeping his expression mild, John nodded. Using Ancient equipment, especially things they didn't have a good idea of their function yet, required a great deal of concentration on his part. That would be perfect. "Lead on."

"Are you certain you did not need to wait to speak to Rodney? He is winding down. I can tell, voice is less shrill when he gets to the end."

"Nah, I don't want to distract him. I wasn't really here for anything in particular, just to offer my services as a lightswitch-slash-grunt."

Radek nodded, gesturing for John to follow him out of the main lab. As soon as they were in the hallway it quieted down considerably. "Distraction for McKay is sometimes good. He has been…better the last few weeks. Calmer and more focused. Do not discount your uses. I may have you look at Simpson's homework. Her math is not right, but I have not had the chance to look at it yet. I do not wish to subject her to McKay's wrath this afternoon."

John blinked. "Her math?"

"You are MENSA. You can find problems," Radek said easily with a bare hint of a shrug. "We will not mention your assistance to Rodney."

"Wait, how did you..." John gave him a rueful look. His cover, it seemed, had been well and truly blown.

"Rodney was…unhappy about revelation several months ago, or was it nearly year?" Radek shrugged, turning into another lab—a much quieter one. "He was mumbling about it for days."

John ran a hand through his hair. "I don't make a habit of letting that get out. And you know I'm not actually a member of MENSA, right? I passed the test to prove a point, but I never did anything with it."

"Yes," Radek said with a quiet smile. "That upset Rodney more. And we will not let the news of your brilliant mind escape into the science community. Rodney would have fierce competition and might not survive."

John felt his ears get hot. "I'm not brilliant. Just good at math, and that's really all the MENSA thing is. If you can spot the patterns and do the statistics, you can't fail it. Not like you guys." He ignored the competition comment. That was just... no. This was how rumors got started—he wasn't sexy, and it baffled and warmed him that Rodney disagreed. He didn't need to start a debate about it with the whole science team though.

"It is similar. But yes, we need to keep this among ourselves. You are admired by too many already. If they knew about mind, there would be plots to bring you into science department and into beds. No. We cannot have that."

John's flush got more pronounced, it the heat was any indication. "I'm not... people aren't..."

Radek just waved him off, pointing to one of the laptops. "Here. Start with this."

With a look at the scientist, John shrugged and sat down. As usual, when he actually let himself get into math, he got lost in it. He spotted a few mistakes, highlighting them and making notes off to the side on what they should be.

Coffee and snacks appeared at his elbow, silently materializing. And when John would glance up, he'd find Radek across the room intent on his own computer screen or jotting down notes on the small PDA he kept with him.

It was... oddly soothing. He could see why the scientists enjoyed this. It was calming, relaxing, and used up all of his mental resources, leaving no room for anything else. The further in he got, the more complicated things got, requiring him to really focus.

It was some time later when John felt a light touch on his arm. "Colonel?"

"Hmm?" He didn't look up. He almost had this one figured out, if he could just follow the logic through to the end...

"Rodney has headed for mess to get lunch before his mission. I assumed you wished to eat with him before he left."

John tore himself away from the screen. "What time is it?"

"1320."

"Christ." John blinked a few times. "This is some serious crack you have here, Zelenka." He had to shake himself a bit, trying to break free of the lure of the laptop.

"It is addicting," Radek said with a smile. "It will be here after lunch."

Huffing, John stretched, working out the kinks. "Maybe. I want to go catch McKay and the rest of my team before they head out, so I'll see you later."

"Go. Find me when you are ready to return."

John huffed again, heading out with a wave. He made a beeline for the mess, finding all three of his teammates at their usual table. He dropped down next to his lover. "Your second in command is evil."

Rodney glanced up, mouth full of food. He rolled his eyes and chewed enough so he could get words out. "Course he is."

Under the table, John bumped his leg against Rodney's rubbing his foot along the other man's ankle. "He sucked me into math problems when I went down this morning to offer myself up for lightswitch duty."

Rodney snorted. "Simpson's work? No wonder Radek didn't want to give it to me this morning."

"It actually wasn't that bad. Well, not that I found anyway. What I could understand of it."

John got a roll of Rodney's eyes in response as the scientist turned back to his lunch. Teyla picked up the conversation a few beats later. "Do you wish to reschedule our training session for tomorrow? I forgot to inquire about your availability yesterday."

John smiled, rubbing his foot against Rodney's ankle in another covert caress. "No, we're still good. My training and base activities aren't changing all that much."

Rodney's leg shifted closer to him as he continued to eat. "Good," Teyla said with a smile. "I have several sessions scheduled for tomorrow and I did not wish to leave without confirming our appointment."

"Yup. You can beat me into submission as scheduled." He grinned at her.

Rodney snorted into his sandwich. Ronon just shifted forward on his elbows. "You gonna keep running?"

John laughed a little. "Yes. Physically there's nothing wrong with me. So my regular fitness and conditioning routine won't change. If I had to give that up, I'd be adding flabby to the bored, and no one really wants that."

"You missed this morning."

"I had an appointment. I'll probably go this afternoon though."

Ronon grunted something in response as he nodded. Apparently the questions were to make sure John was still planning on hanging around.

Teyla shifted in her chair, sliding it back. "Ronon and I will meet you in the gateroom, Rodney. We wish to discuss something with Major Lorne before we depart."

Rodney looked up, confusion on his face. "What? Why didn't you tell me—"

"It is nothing to concern you," she said with a quiet smile.

John watched them go, stealing a sort-of fry off Rodney's plate. "Be careful, okay?"

Rodney was still focused on his teammates as they disappeared out of the mess. "Yes, of course. Do you think I'm suicidal?" He paused, dropping his gaze to John. "No. Don't answer that."

John chuckled. "They're probably going to intimidate Lorne. They had that sort of look about them."

"Lorne's fine. He knows what's he's doing out there most of the time. Come to think of it, his team seems to get into a whole lot less trouble than we do."

"Hmph. Just don't get too attached to him. You can't keep him."

"I guess we'll see about that, won't we?" Rodney snapped, but then instantly looked regretful. "I'm sorry. That was mean and uncalled for."

Sighing, John rubbed again, wishing they weren't so much in public right now. "I hate that I'm not going with you today, but the sooner I get this taken care of, the better off we'll all be."

"I know, I know." Rodney sighed and John could see the tension in his lover's body. "But it's an easy mission. Go. Say hi. Come home."

"Yeah, it will be. You'll be home for dinner, and I'll be waiting for you."

"Teyla's going to do all the talking," Rodney continued, his hand tightening on his fork, knuckles turning white as he squeezed. "It's safer that way. We all know she won't insult anyone."

John risked putting a hand on Rodney's arm, squeezing lightly. "It will be fine. You said yourself, Lorne knows what he's doing. Don't worry."

"Yes, I know. Keep my mouth closed and listen to what all the warriors tell me to do."

"No, go out there, and do your job, and let them worry about the rest. You'll do fine."

"And we all know what my job is out there, don't we?" Rodney asked bitterly, his gaze moving to his watch. "I have to go gear up."

Sighing, John let his arm drop. "I don't want to do this here, but just... you're important, Rodney. I know you're needed here on Atlantis, but the team needs you too. We wouldn't be alive without you. I... if you really hate it we can talk about scaling back missions. I really don't want you to leave us though."

"We'll see," Rodney said non-committedly as he pushed his chair back. "I should go before they send Ronon to get me."

John knew there was still plenty of time, but it was even more than obvious that Rodney didn't want to talk about what was bothering him.

He rose as well, stealing the last fry. "I'll meet you in the control room to see you off."

Rodney nodded, offering John a thankful half-smile as he headed out, leaving John with the tray.

John picked up the tray, dumping it and wandering toward the transporter. Why couldn't anything ever be easy? Why did it always feel like it was two steps forward, one step back?

Chuck glanced up from his workstation as soon as John crested the stairs in the control room. "Afternoon, Colonel. You're a little early."

He bit back the response that he had no where else to be, and pasted on a pleasant smile, nodding. "Wanted a good view."

"And you'll have one, I'm sure. Major Lorne's already been through the mission checks."

"Great." He fought down the wave of jealousy, of frustration. He had asked for this. He had gone to Kate. He had to remember that. Lorne wasn't going to take his job. He wasn't going to be sent back to Earth and locked in a lab to turn things on for the rest of his life. It was all fine.

"You okay, sir?" Chuck was looking at him carefully.

"Dandy."

The technician nodded, turning back to his board that had suddenly looked a lot more appealing.

John mentally chided himself, knowing he had to stop moping. "Elizabeth in her office? Do you know if she's in the middle of anything?"

"She's in there. Not sure what she's working on," Chuck said with a shrug. "There's always something."

Chuckling, John nodded. "Isn't there always?" He made a point of smiling ruefully, giving the tech the illusion of being "in" on something. It was a look that rarely failed to put people at ease, and it worked again now. With that small fire put out, he drifted toward Weir's office, chiming her door.

Elizabeth glanced up from her computer, offering him a smile. "John, come in. Here to see your team off?"

"Of course. Couldn't let them go without their bagged lunches and pats to the head." He paused, the mental image of trying to pat Ronon on the head making his lips quirk, before he dropped into the guest seat.

She chuckled. "Somehow I doubt Ronon would let you pat him on the head."

"Probably not," he grinned at her. "Anything interesting I should know about up here?"

Sighing, she shook her head. "Yearly evaluation reports for some of the department members have finally begun hitting my desk. They're already late, so the SGC wants them ASAP."

He rolled his eyes. "Contact with Earth definitely has some down sides."

"I agree. The supplies are good, though. With no more threats of cut off supplies, the scientists have stopped hoarding coffee."

"Well, the regular coffee at any rate. They still hoard the good stuff. And the chocolate."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I don't think I want to know."

He chuckled. "The black market is still booming, it just has better stuff now."

"I was right. I didn't want to know," she said, her eyes flickering past John. "Are you ready?"

It was only years of training that allowed John not to stiffen. He glanced over his shoulder to see Lorne, geared up and ready to go. "Take care of my team for me, Major."

"Of course, sir. Wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a tight smile. Seems Teyla and Ronon had talked with him.

John chuckled. "Whatever they threatened you with, I'm sure they didn't actually mean it. You'll all do fine."

"Yes, sir." John's reassurance didn't seem to go a long way to ease the man's tension. "Ma'am, we're ready to head out."

John rose, following them out. He caught his teams' eyes. "All right, kids. Be nice to poor Major Lorne. Follow his orders, and bring him back in the same condition you found him in."

"Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?" Rodney asked, checking his pockets in his usual pre-mission routine.

"I know you guys. Lorne has no idea what he's getting himself into." He glanced at Ronon—who was baring his teeth in an intimidating grin—and Teyla—who looked serene and satisfied. "Play nice."

Ronon grunted something in reply and Teyla nodded. "We shall."

"Dial the gate," Elizabeth said as they all headed down to the main staircase leading to the gate.

Taking his place next to Weir, John ruthlessly suppressed the longing to be down there, to be with his team, to be going through the gate, to adventure, discovery, excitement. Now wasn't the time.

As the wormhole connected, readings began to come into Atlantis from the MALP left on the planet from the initial survey six hours earlier. "All clear," Chuck said, giving his team the final okay to depart.

"Good luck guys." He wouldn't say be careful again. He knew he had already said it enough times. Although, could there be such a thing as enough for that? Probably not. "Be careful."

It was Rodney who turned back, offering a half-hearted smile just before stepping through, the last one to cross the threshold.

The arrival confirmation came through a few beats later, Major Lorne reporting in—by the book—repeating their check-in time of two hours later. And in another heartbeat, the gate shut down leaving the gateroom oddly quiet and dark.

John didn't realize how long he had been standing there just staring at the empty gate until a hand landed on his elbow.

"They'll be fine."

"I know." He glanced away from the gate, but avoided Elizabeth's gaze. "Zelenka mentioned needing some help in the labs. I should probably head back there."

She was quiet for a minute, before nodding. "Probably. I'll let you know how the check-in goes."

"Thanks." With a nod, he headed out, hoping to lose himself in equations again until his team—his lover—was back safe and sound where they belonged.

Radek was still in the lab where John had left him, a half-eaten sandwich and empty mug on the table next to his computer. There was a covered plate next to the workstation John had been sitting at.

John ignored the plate and plopped down, grateful everything was like he had left it before. It didn't take him long to get lost again, the numbers dancing across his brain, forcing him to exercise skills he hadn't actively used in years.

The numbers were all-encompassing, pulling him in deeper and deeper. He could hear Radek taking various radio calls throughout the afternoon, the accented voice quiet and non-evasive.

It wasn't until another voice, not nearly as soothing, suddenly invaded the quiet that John semi-snapped out of it.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Kavanagh asked.

"Working." Radek's voice was hard, all sharp edges.

"He's not a scientist. He barely has the brain cells to stay alive." The sneer was there, in full force.

"What did you want? I don't have the energy or the desire to speak to you for any length of time."

"He's going to break something, and then I'll get blamed for it." Kavanagh crossed his arms. "I want to know what he's touching."

"None of your business. He's being supervised. What did you want?" Huh. He hadn't heard Radek when his voice got cold like that.

"I want to know. If I'm going to be blamed for it, I at least deserve to know what systems to check tonight before McKay gets back."

"Enough," Radek said, standing, moving into Kavanagh's personal space, making him back up several paces to the door. "Did you have a question or did you come to annoy

me? Pick one."

Kavanagh looked thrown for a moment, then rallied. "I came here because McKay locked me out of the main system. I need access to complete my experiments. And don't think this is over with the lightswitch over there. If you won't tell me what he's messing with, I'll be forced to go over your head."

"He locked you out for a good reason," Radek said, his arms crossed over his chest. "The answer will not change because he is on a mission. You know this and yet continue to ask. And as for Colonel Sheppard, as acting chief science officer, I am the head of this department until Doctor McKay returns. What I say goes. Now leave."

Kavanagh shot John a dirty look, huffed, and turned on his heel to leave.

John sighed. "Thanks for defending my honor."

Radek shrugged. "It is none of his business, but he wants it to be. If anything happened to Rodney he would be the first one to rally for his spot." The Czech closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "I should get something for dinner."

Blinking, John looked at his watch. "Shit, it's later than I thought. Elizabeth was supposed to let me know when the team checked in. And they should have been back by now."

The Czech glanced up at John for a split second and then looked away. "Were they?"

John narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

He sighed, his jaw tightening. "They did not check in yet."

"Fuck." John was on his feet and out the door, tapping his radio on. "Sheppard to Weir."

"Yes, John?" Elizabeth's voice was wary.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me they hadn't checked in? What's going on?"

She sighed quietly. "There was nothing to tell. They missed the two-hour check in and we have not been able to raise them."

"I'm on my way. Is a team ready to go look for them?"

"John we're not sending anyone yet. There's no point in coming here until we know more which is why I didn't call you."

"They're how many hours late checking in? And we can't raise anyone on the radio? Just how long are we going to wait?" The transporter blinked, letting him out near the control room.

"Three hours."

He let the military commander take over, shoving down the worried lover and friend as he strode into Elizabeth's office. "Let me take a jumper and go check."

Elizabeth tapped her radio off as she stood. "No."

"You know they wouldn't just miss check-in. It's been long enough that we need to send someone. If you won't let me go, send someone else."

"John, you've been out of contact longer than this. You know what SOP is and Major Lorne's team isn't overdue yet."

He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. "I'm not cut out for a base job. I need to be the one out there, not sitting here waiting and wondering."

"Welcome to my world, John," Elizabeth said, her expression softening her harsh words. "Yes, they've missed their check-in, but according to standard procedure we wait until they're overdue before sending in the Calvary."

He dropped into her chair, although his restlessness didn't allow him to sit still, knee bouncing and fingers drumming his feelings against fabric. "Have I mentioned I suck at desk jobs? This is about the time I drove most of my commanders to distraction."

"We're only at day one, John," she said quietly, looking down on him from where she stood behind her desk.

"Which would be why I was never on a base after assignment for more than a day or two before I was either being given a new assignment or sent somewhere else. How long until they're overdue?"

Elizabeth checked her watch, counting the minutes. "Less than an hour."

He sighed. "Permission to take a Jumper out on a quick survey. To the mainland and back. If I don't, I'll drive us both crazy waiting."

"Go back to working with Zelenka."

"I can't concentrate." He gave her a small, tight grin. "The choices are either having me here driving you nuts for an hour, or letting me work it off in the air for an hour."

"Stay."

He ran his hand through his hair, scrubbing at it—he was sure it was probably even more unruly now. Maybe he could use this time to tackle another problem. "Has Rodney talked to you at all lately?"

"About what specifically?" she asked, settling back down into her chair. "We've talked about a number of things and you know how Rodney can get with his emails when he's determined about something."

He chuckled. "Yeah. I get a million of them sometimes. But this was... he's made a few comments about thinking he wasn't pulling his weight on the team. He does more than just pull his weight, but I get the impression he's decided he's dragging Ronon, Teyla and me down for some reason."

Elizabeth's eyebrow rose as John spoke, her expression going carefully neutral about mid-way through. "He hasn't put in any formal request to be taken off the team."

"But you know something."

She shook her head. "More comments in passing."

"He's resisted me trying to talk to him about it. I can make it an order, but I'd rather not. I have no idea what caused this, or how to go about convincing him he's an integral part of the team. Without him, we'd all be dead a few times over by now."

"I agree with you, John, but something has him spooked. And he hasn't really said anything to me about it." She paused, taking a breath. "It's more subtle things. The way he phrases his reports, his comments, how he emphasizes his lack of research time on base. Sometimes I think he's trying to convince himself."

"I know for a fact he loves field work. He'd go as stir crazy as me if he was forced to stay on-base all the time—maybe not as fast, but it would happen. I have no idea what prompted this."

"It's been building for a while now."

"But why? That's what I don't understand."

Elizabeth shrugged nearly at the same time as the klaxon sounded signaling an incoming wormhole.

"Ma'am, I’m receiving Teyla's IDC."

They were both up, and at the balcony in an instant.

"Lower the shield, let them through." Her voice was a tight as John felt. He prayed everyone came through, alive and whole and unharmed.

It took a few moments, nearly a minute, before the first person stepped back through—Teyla. She looked fine. Still on her own two feet. She paused, turning back as the rest of the team came through.

Ronon was helping a limping Lorne. Rodney was on Ronon's other side—walking on his own—but sporting a large bruise to his left eye and a hand held close to his chest.

"Sorry about the missed call," Lorne said as the gate snapped closed.

John had to bite his lip to keep from talking over Elizabeth, just pushing her aside and demanding answers.

"What happened? We were starting to get a little worried, Major." She was moving down the stairs, John behind her.

"Everything was going well. Teyla was talking about a treaty and opportunities for our peoples and the next thing I know Doctor McKay was yelping about something. Things got a little…fuzzy about what happened, exactly. Turns out it was a misunderstanding."

She looked at Teyla. "Fuzzy? I need a bit more than that. Give me a rough idea of what happened, and we can do a full debrief after you've all been checked out in the infirmary."

"I don't appreciate getting groped in public," Rodney hissed. "And I don't care if it was a friendly let's get to know each other gesture, either. There was no reason for her hand to be anywhere near my leg. How was I supposed to know that it was an insult to the grand poobah's daughter's aunt's mother?" He frowned. "I protested, got punched, defended myself and then we all made up and everything's hunky dory. Can I go to the infirmary now?"

John stiffened, but Elizabeth beat him to it. "Yes, you can. But I want all of you back in the conference room in an hour."

"Fine," Rodney grumbled, already headed off to the infirmary, Teyla trailing behind him.

"Sorry, sir," Lorne said quietly. "It really was a misunderstanding."

John gave his second a rueful grin, even as he started walking with them. He'd give Rodney a few minutes to cool down from his irritation, then pull him aside. "It usually is. Let's get you checked out. I'll get the whole story in the briefing."

"This is nothing. I tripped on the walk back to the gate."

"Still, get it checked out. I'll meet you there." He sped up, knowing there was a small window between when Rodney arrived at the infirmary and when he would attempt to rush out. John wanted to make sure he caught his lover before he could run.

He could hear Rodney as soon as the doors to the infirmary opened. "…just clean it already. The damage is done."

He found his lover with Carson. There were no nurses in the immediate area, so he moved closer. "Hey."

"Colonel," Carson said with a tight smile, "I wondered when you would arrive. Perhaps you'd convince your…" John almost thought Carson was going to say 'lover', "…teammate that I need to actually check him over and not just clean up the scrape on his hand."

John jumped up to sit on the bed beside Rodney, pressing his thigh against his lover, the only comfort he could offer in public. "You should listen to him. Arguing will only drag this out. I'm sure you're fine, but it will make Carson feel better, right Doc?"

"Of course I’m fine. Only my pride is injured."

John bumped his shoulder against Rodney's. "What happened out there? It doesn't sound like it was a big deal, but I'm curious."

"One of the big-wigs' daughters decided to try and get frisky," Rodney grumbled as Carson finally managed to latch onto his left hand. "I over-reacted. Teyla and Lorne smoothed everything over. We have a tentative treaty and they'd like us to come back and visit again. End of story."

"Over-reacted? Or just objected to what you viewed as being groped?"

"Over-reacted. Apparently it's a common custom for someone to put their hands on another person's leg. The problem is when you shove that hand away. Then they're insulted."

"But you didn't know that up front, and our custom is that you don't touch without permission. If they had done it to me, I probably would have reacted the same way." A quick glance around showed the three of them were still relatively alone, so John reached out to take Rodney's free hand squeezing it gently.

"And so yet again, I managed to make a scene and nearly screw up the meeting." He hissed as Carson hit a sore spot, cleaning some of the dried blood away. "And that hurts. Can you press any harder?"

John let go of Rodney's hand to wrap his fingers around his lover's face, forcing Rodney to look him in the eye. "You're not a screw up. It could have happened to any of you, and Lorne or I would have reacted the same way. It was just bad luck that it was you. I don't know why you think you're not an important part of the team, but you are."

Rodney winced a little as he squinted to focus on John's face, the skin around his eye all bruised and swollen. It was going to be one nasty bruise once all of the color made it to the surface. "Yes, bad luck. Shall I start carrying around a rabbit's foot, too?"

The need to make the fear, the worry, he could see in his lover's eyes go away made John ditch caution to the wind and lean in to brush their lips together. He didn't know what he could do to convince the other man.

"Colonel…John…" Carson's whispered warning gave him just enough time to back off before the rest of his team, plus Lorne and two nurses strode into view.

He reluctantly went back to swinging his legs, making sure he and Rodney were pressed together side by side.

Lorne had his ankle wrapped in Ace bandages and was sporting a pair of crutches. "How are you doing, Doc?" he asked, pausing by the bed.

"Fine," Rodney grumbled, watching as Carson carefully wrapped his hand in gauze.

It was a more relaxed grumble though—John counted it as a victory that Rodney seemed to have relaxed, at least for now. He reached over to brush a bit of invisible dust from his lover's jacket, which let him lean in briefly to whisper. "I'll kiss it better tonight. Let's get you through the debrief and I'll bring dinner to the suite."

"There you go," Carson said, taping the bandage in place. "That should keep it clean and unfortunately, there's not much I can do about the eye. It'll get better in a few days."

"Yes, yes. Are we done?"

"Aye. You are. Let me get you some ibuprofen to take tonight to help you sleep."

"Thank you," Rodney mumbled before glancing up at the Major. "So is it twisted or sprained?"

"Just twisted." Lorne shrugged as best he could with the crutches. "If I stay off it tonight and tomorrow, I should be fine. How about you? How's the hand?"

"It was better before Doctor Frankenstein started poking at it."

Lorne cut his eyes at John, then smiled. "Well, at least we're all in one piece, right?"

Rodney snorted. "Still hurts, though."

They all chatted as they moved to the conference room, the actual debrief just more details elaborating on what Rodney had told him. It really hadn't been anyone's fault, but for some reason Rodney had decided it was.

Afterward, John slipped to the mess, loading up a tray with finger foods, and already planning ways to try and get his lover to let go and relax for the night.

***

After the debriefing, John had grabbed his arm, letting him know he was going to pick up dinner and would meet him in their room. John had walked away before Rodney had the chance to protest and right now he was too tired and sore to argue. He'd wanted to stop at the labs, but it wasn't worth the effort to argue with John for a ten minute detour.

Dragging himself to his room, Rodney tugged off his uniform jacket, leaving it on the couch before heading into the master bedroom. He stopped in front of the mirror, finally taking a look at his eye that was nicely bruised and swollen. It was tender to the touch, but would go down eventually, leaving a nice colorful bruise while it did.

He sighed. It was always something, these days. Sometimes he just wished things were quiet, calm. It would be easier.

He was still staring into the mirror when John poked his head in the bedroom.

"Hey." His lover moved behind him, wrapping his arms around Rodney's waist

Sighing, Rodney leaned back into John, resting his hands on his lover's. "Hey."

John nuzzled at Rodney's neck, pressing warm kisses to the exposed skin. "I brought dinner. I want to feed you, make you feel good."

He nodded. Right now that was the only thing he wanted. To feel good and forget about yet another mission screwed up because of him. Rodney leaned back a little more heavily into his lover.

John's hands slipped out from under his, moving under Rodney's shirt to lightly fondle his nipples.

Rodney hummed, letting out some of the tension in his body, letting John hold some of his weight. This is exactly what he needed.

His lover's lips had moved to nibble at Rodney's ear, in between soft whispers. "Let go for me. Let me have all of you tonight."

"Mmm," Rodney hummed, letting go of the rest of his weight, leaning entirely on John, trusting him to hold him up.

"Good. Very good." John's approval was warm, and Rodney was rewarded with more soft kisses, his nipples being slowly sensitized.

Rodney moaned as John tugged at the rings, drawing out his nipples, pulling them away from his body before releasing them, the pain going right to Rodney's cock. He could feel his body reacting, his pants getting tighter as he hardened.

"All decked out for me, decorated for me. Are you getting hard for me, too? Leaking? Is your ass clenching, wishing it was being filled?"

"Yes, John," Rodney panted. His lover knew it, knew how his touches aroused him.

"You're wishing you were naked right now, aren't you?" His lover's chuckle was low, and the question was accompanied by light tugs to the rings.

"Oh…yes…" Rodney moaned, breathing heavily, body trembling. He wanted to feel John against him, against his skin. "So much."

"Too often, I have you strip yourself, or we're in a rush. I think I want to take my time tonight. Reveal you slowly. Savor each body part as I reveal it, let the anticipation build."

"Please, John," he breathed, turning his head so his breath was ghosting over his lover's neck and jaw. Please make me forget. Please stop me from thinking. Please help me so I can help you. They were all in those two words, buried deeply. But John knew. He always knew.

"Shhh. I'm here." His hands withdrew from Rodney's chest. "Come into the kitchen so we can have dinner."

Rodney let John shift him back onto his feet, drawing him forward by his good hand.

"All I want you to do tonight is submit. Just let go of everything. I'll take care of you." Rodney was settled on his knees, on his pillow, at John's knee in the dining room. As soon as he was settled, his lover's hands were carding through his hair, caressing him.

Rodney kept his eyes closed, letting John's touches ground him, relax him. He moved to put his hands behind his back, but his left hand caught on the edge of his pants and he whimpered, pain welling up.

John made soothing noises, drawing his hands back around. "Leave them at your sides for now. First I want to feed you, then take my time undressing you."

"Yes, sir," Rodney said quietly, opening his eyes as John tilted his head up, his hands on either side of his face. John's thumb lightly caressed the edge of his blackening eye, his eyes intent on the skin beneath his finger.

"Who gave this to you?"

Rodney felt his face flush, mortified, but he answered. "The leader's daughter."

"The one who tried to feel you up, then used you rejecting her as an excuse to start a fight?"

"I over-reacted."

"No, you didn't. Not from what I heard in the debrief. And no one else thought you did either."

"She didn't mean anything by it," Rodney protested, the tension returning again. He had wanted to forget, but he should have known better. John would want to go through the mission with him, talk about what went wrong. "I wasn't listening as usual."

John shook his head. "Stop right there. You always listen. You don't always agree or follow orders, but you listen. And I don't want to do this, not now. Right now I want you to relax, and this is a conversation that's going to take more time and energy than either of us has right now."

Rodney clamped his mouth shut, waiting, body tense once again, his embarrassment, his memory of the fight, the stupid fight that shouldn't have happened in the first place playing out in his mind.

"Hey. Look at me." John's fingers were gentle against his face.

Rodney lifted his eyes, letting John tilt his head until they were eye-to-eye.

"I love you. That's all that matters right now."

"I love you, too."

John's smile was warm. "Take a few deep breaths. You can close your eyes if it will help. Try and drown out everything except me and you and right now."

Concentrating on John's face for a few moments, Rodney took several deep breaths, forcing his body to relax. It was getting easier to do this with John. He closed his eyes and continued to breathe. He heard John shift and a light kiss was placed on his forehead. Two more quickly followed, one on each eye, John extra gentle with the one that had been bruised.

Fingers brushed across his lips, followed by something sweet being pressed between them.

Rodney opened his mouth, letting John slide in the food, an explosion of sweet and tart exploding on his tongue as he chewed. One of the almost-grapes. He hadn't thought they were still in season.

He got a purr from John, and then his lover fell into his pattern when he fed Rodney bites of food, with soft touches everywhere John could easily reach in between each one.

By the third or fourth bite, Rodney simply let go. He wanted to forget. He just wanted to be held, loved.

Finally, John's voice broke the easy silence. "Dinner's done. Let's take this to the bedroom."

"Yes, sir," Rodney whispered, John's hands helping him to his feet. He kept his eyes closed, letting John guide him, direct him. It was easier. John would take care of everything.

John led him to the middle of the room, arranging him with his hands at his sides. His hands were back under Rodney's shirt, pushing it up to expose nipples that were straining to meet John's fingers.

Groaning, Rodney's body trembled as John played and teased him, the rings only heightening the sensations. His cock was hardening once again as his body relaxed for John, as he gave up pieces of himself to his lover. Each touch, each caress wore down his outer defenses, opening him up for John to see.

"I love your nipples. Sometimes I think I rush through playing with them to get to other things. I think tonight I want to worship every inch of you."

"They're all yours," Rodney whispered.

John hummed. He pushed the shirt the rest of the way off, then ran his hands up and down Rodney's arms. He lifted one, pressing his lips to the inside of the elbow.

"John…" he whispered, only to get the soft press of a finger against his lips.

John's lips moved down his arm, tongue tracing around the cuffs circling the wrist, darting under the edge of it.

Rodney moaned quietly, shivering from the sensation.

John continued his path, mouthing his way down into Rodney's palm, then out to the tip of each finger, sucking lightly on them.

Rodney found his eyes open, watching as John worshipped each of his fingers before turning his attention to his left hand. He was gentle, careful, avoiding the area Rodney had injured, but making sure each finger was caressed and touched and kissed.

He followed the same pattern on the other arm, then worked his way up, to lavish attention across Rodney's shoulders.

When John moved behind him, Rodney wanted to turn and follow, but John's hands were firm and insistent, keeping him in place. Rodney closed his eyes, his body trembling as John placed gentle kisses on the nape of his neck, just under his hairline.

John snuffled up into Rodney's hair, then he started downward. Pressing kisses along Rodney's spine, then branching out to his sides, his waist.

This slow slide down, these gentle touches and caresses were breaking him just as surely as fists or words.

"Perfect." John whispered it into his skin.

Rodney let his head drop down, chin touching his chest, as he simply tried to remember to breathe. Each kiss, each touch spread a fire along his nerves. Warmth spread outward, his muscles unclenching, releasing their iron-like grip.

John purred, his clever fingers reaching around Rodney's body, flicking open the buttons on his pants. But instead of pulling them down, his lover just exposed Rodney's hips, giving them the same meticulous attention.

Shivering as John's fingers trailed over his hipbone, Rodney moaned, wanting more. He heard his lover's quiet shush, his whispered words, telling Rodney to let go, to breathe, that he was beautiful.

Tonight, John was intent. He continued to peel away layers of clothes, but he avoided touching or paying any attention to Rodney's ass or cock. Instead, he painted kisses over his knees, breathed more praise into his back, lightly ran his fingernails over the soles of Rodney's feet.

Buy the time John reached his toes, Rodney didn't know how he was still standing. He was trembling with need, desire, and love, his knees locked in place so he wouldn't collapse into a pile on the floor.

John lifted one foot, then the other, and finally, Rodney was completely naked. His lover looked up at him, the emotion in his eyes a little humbling and breathtaking.

Rodney took a shuddering breath, his eyes locked on John's.

John shifted, and pressed a single, soft kiss to Rodney's aching erection.

Rodney closed his eyes and moaned, his good hand reaching out toward John. It was clasped tightly a moment later, a kiss pressed into his palm.

John started to worship his hand again, sucking on his fingers, licking up to his wrist. "Love your hands, love watching you wave them all around."

"John…please," Rodney whispered, begging, his voice a little broken.

His lover looked up again, through his eyelashes. "Everything about you is perfect."

"John…"

"Perfect." John sucked on Rodney's pinky.

"Please…" It was almost too much.

Blinking slowly, John let Rodney's finger slide out of his mouth. "Bed."

Rodney nodded, but it was as if his feet were rooted to the spot. His muscles and his brain had somehow disconnected. John's hands moved to his hips, drawing upward as he stood.

Humming again, John leaned in to capture Rodney's mouth. The kiss was like the touches had been—soft, sweet, with so much love it was almost overwhelming.

And without even knowing it, Rodney found the back of his legs bumping against the side of the bed, John gently lowering him down to sit. With John's hands guiding him, Rodney scooted back until he was in the middle of the bed. John leaned in to kiss him again, his body straddling Rodney's, his hands caressing, touching the entire time.

And with John's hand cupping the back of his head, John lowered him the rest of the way to the bed.

Rodney's hands were pushed above his head, his legs spread wide, but no restraints added yet. John just sat back, and looked at him. The expression on his face could only be called awe and hunger.

Breathing heavily, Rodney remained exactly where John had placed him. It was too much to move to shift. John would take care of everything.

The bulge in John's pants was huge, and probably uncomfortable. But instead of undressing, he swept his hands down Rodney's legs, and then started to kiss and caress every square inch of Rodney, all over again.

With a quiet moan, Rodney's body shuddered, his eyes closing as his mind simply stopped.

His world was John—his touches, caresses, kisses, smell—and that's all that mattered.

Because his eyes were closed, there was no warning when suddenly his cock was engulfed in warm, wet heat.

Rodney's breath caught in his throat, his body initial shudder morphing into a constant trembling. He was moaning, he knew, making sounds, noises, but his mind had disconnected long ago.

John sucked on him for what felt like forever, but he made sure it was never enough for Rodney to come. Just unending pleasure, washing over him in waves.

And Rodney let it.

Until John told him to come, he wouldn't. He knew that. He'd make his lover, his master, proud. But like this, floating in a haze of pleasure and tender love, nothing else mattered. Just him and John. Just John.

Finally John pulled off, and the warmth of a body stretched along Rodney's side let him know where his lover was. Fingers toyed with his chest hair. "I want to keep you just like this all night."

Rodney simply nodded. Whatever John wanted. He opened his eyes a little, just so he could see his lover, but his eyelids were heavy.

There was a soft smile on John's face. "Beautiful."

The praise washed over him, warming him, and Rodney knew he returned John's smile—crooked and drunk with pleasure.

John made a soft, happy noise and then they were kissing again, the slow glide of lips together, not urgent, not desperate, just them, together, making each other feel good.

His lover settled over him, between his legs, fitting perfectly. With his eyes closed once again, Rodney could concentrate on the sensations, on the taste of John. It was earthy and perfectly John.

Moving away from Rodney's lips, John mouthed his way down his body again, this time stopping to pay lavish attention to each nipple.

With every tug, every bite, Rodney moaned and groaned, letting the sensations drift through his body. The rings seemed to make everything feel so much better, so much more. He was glad he kept them, happy to have them because John loved them so much.

When his lover started humming again as he played, the vibrations seemed to travel through the rings to every part of Rodney's body.

Rodney wished he could feel like this all the time.

Finally John made his way south again, licking at the head of Rodney's erection. "I want to suck on you for a while, but you can come when you want to."

A moan and a nod were Rodney's only reply before he was enveloped by wet warmth. John expertly sucked him, using his tongue and teeth in equal measure. Pleasure continued to build until Rodney felt himself gently, sweetly breaking over the top. His body climaxed with a hard shudder before the trembling aftershocks rolled through his body.

He was vaguely aware of John milking every last drop out of him, then slowly letting him slip free.

Rodney was boneless, sated, still floating in a haze.

A warm body fitted itself back against his side, a hand coming to rest in the middle of his chest.

He hummed, letting his head roll to the side. "Mmm."

John vibrated as he chuckled.

The sound and the sensation only made Rodney even more content, more calm. John was happy.

Rodney was pulled a little, settled more comfortably against John's chest.

Then John's hands were on his arm, his leg, arranging him carefully. Rodney simply let John move him. Whatever he wanted.

Warm breath was comforting against his neck. "Sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

And between one breath and the next Rodney slept.

***

John smiled as his lover relaxed completely into sleep. It had been amazing—even when he submitted completely like he had tonight, John wasn’t sure he had ever fallen so far so fast.

It was humbling, to know his partner trusted him that much.

The next few days were a lot more of the same. They were grounded for a few days while Lorne’s ankle healed, so Rodney worked in the lab, John did paperwork and played in the labs when he could get away with it, and they both enjoyed being able to spend quiet evenings, just the two of them, and one big team night where they watched the first Batman movie. Explaining it to Ronon and Teyla was half the fun.

But now they were off world again. On yet another mission without John. He was progressing—according to Kate—but still… Two weeks and things still weren't settled. He hadn't thought it would take this long. It really sucked to still be stuck on Atlantis with nothing to do.

He wandered down to the infirmary—he hadn’t bothered Beckett in a while.

He found the doctor in his office, staring off into space. “You look as entertained as I feel.”

"What? Oh…Colonel, come in," Carson said, gesturing absently with one hand as he rubbed his other over his face.

John dropped into the guest chair and mentally commanded the door to close. "How are you doing?"

Carson shrugged. "Tired. Busy. The usual."

John settled into one of the chairs. "We hadn’t had a chance to talk, and I wanted to see if you had any more questions. And if not, I'm here because I'm bored and you're my friend so I'll bother you for a while and give Elizabeth a break. "

"No, I’ll let you both know if I do," he said, turning back to his notes.

"Carson?" John didn’t have anything better to do. He might as well use his time, and newfound therapy skills, to good use. “Something is bothering you, and you’ve been avoiding us. What’s up?”

Carson's pen stopped moving, held poised over the chart he'd been writing in. His entire body was still and silent for a long moment before he exhaled quietly. "I…It’s complicated."

"I have time."

Carson sighed softly. “What you have together… I dinna… I don’t always understand it, but sometimes… it’s a bit lonely looking in.”

John rubbed a hand across his face. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Carson shrugged. "I donna mean to sound like I'm…bitter of what you have with Rodney. I'm not. Rodney's probably one of my closest friends and the fact that you can make him happy…no one else can put a smile on his face like you can. I thank you taking the time to explain things to me, for letting me see the two of you in your private times."

John leaned forward, and this time he did rest a hand on Carson's leg. "You're more than welcome, And you know you're always welcome to come over and visit any time."

Carson snorted, but didn't shift away. "And do what?"

"Eat good food, watch movies, play chess, talk about things that have nothing to do with Atlantis. It's too hard to try and do this alone, Carson. Don't cut yourself off or close yourself off—you'll crash and burn, sooner or later. Let Rodney and I be your friends. I know it’s not the same, but we can help."

"I am your friend. Or at least I thought I was," Carson said quietly, lifting his head. John could finally see how much it was affecting the other man. They had been much closer friends before he'd become intimate with Rodney. Now every spare moment was spent with his lover. But for Carson, it had probably felt like he'd been cut off.

"God, yes, Carson. I'm so sorry." He moved so he was crouched next to the other man, squeezing his leg. "Yes, you're our friend. Neither of us ever meant to make you doubt that."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said immediately.

"There is if you ever doubted we are your friends."

"You're good for each other. I'm happy for the two of you. Remember, I'm the one who locked you in that room together."

John smiled, nodding. "We are. But that doesn't mean we want to drive our friends away. Come over for dinner tonight. Rodney is off-world until tomorrow—it's an overnight—so I'll just be rattling around anyway. We can put on a movie."

"John, I don't wanna—"

He shook his head and tried to look convincing. "I was just going to watch one by myself. But it will be more fun to have someone there with me. I'll even let you choose the flick."

Carson sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he finally nodded. "Fine. What time?"

"1800ish? Will you be off duty by then?"

"I'm on late shift, so no. I won't be out until 2100."

"We'll make it 2130 then. Will you have time to eat, or want me to grab something for you?"

"You donna have ta do that," Carson said, already starting to protest.

John moved back to his chair, waving away the protests. "I have to get something for myself anyway. Not all that much harder to get something for two instead of one."

"You're not gonna take no for an answer are you?"

John sighed again. "I will if you really, really don't want to come over. But I would appreciate the company. I'm going fucking insane being grounded and having Rodney off-world without me. Having you there will give me something to do besides worry."

"I don't want to intrude. That's the last thing I want to do."

"You're not." Running a hand through his hair, John let down some of his guards, let Carson see how tired he was, how stressed out he was—at least a little. "I'm driving Elizabeth to distraction, and I think Kate's about ready to toss me through a window. Even Radek has started hiding from me."

Carson nodded, offering his own tired smile in return. "Aye. Did Rodney finish setting up the viewscreen yet?"

"Yeah." John brightened. "It's really cool. We even have surround sound!"

"And nothing bloody. I draw the line at watching anything that I see nearly every day in here."

Chuckling, John nodded. "I can understand that. We have some good comedies from the last re-supply I haven't seen yet. The stupid-goofy kind. Would that work?"

"Aye, that would be fine. 2130 you said?"

"Yup!" John took the hint, standing up. "I'll see you then. Try not to work too hard the rest of the day."

"Bloody reports," Carson griped.

Squeezing the other man's shoulder, John chuckled. "I usually try to foist those off on the underlings."

"I didn't think you were allowed to now."

Making a face, John blew out a puff of air. "Yeah, Elizabeth is getting pissed at me about that, too. Not that I'm foisting them off, but that they're not getting done at all because I can't."

Carson looked at John, his eyes narrowing. "Why not?"

"Because reports suck." John grinned.

"Aye," Carson chuckled. "But that's nae an answer."

"That's what Elizabeth said, only it was accompanied by the Death Glare."

"I can imagine."

John tried to look innocent.

"Oh, go on and get some work done. I'll see you later."

Laughing, John let the door open. "It's a deal. See ya later, Carson."

***

Covered head to toe in mud and running for your life through even muddier grounds as the stupid moronic natives suddenly decided that their new trading partner would be better as the main course instead of dinner guests was not fun. Rodney would not recommend it as a new training exercise.

Teyla was up ahead, half mud-covered, with Ronon behind, his gun whining with each and every discharge as he tried to dissuade the native chefs. Lorne was running next to him, helping him when he slipped or tripped. It was hard when the mud kept running into his eyes.

He just wished he knew what he'd done to spook them. It was obviously something he did. Why else did they try to grab him first? And mistaking that lake of mud for a dirt plain had just been a bad judgment call.

God. He had mud everywhere. Places where mud had no right to be.

Next to him, Lorne was shouting ahead. "Teyla! Get to the gate and dial us out! We'll keep you covered!"

The Athosian didn't answer, but Rodney saw her put on another burst of speed as soon as the DHD came into view. Thank god. Rodney had a stitch in his side and he was starting to get itchy. He was probably allergic to the mud and it was also probably crawling with all kinds of bacteria and microbes and…things.

"McKay! Get your IDC ready to send as soon as the gate is active." Lorne whirled around and added his gunfire to Ronon's blasts.

Rodney tried to find it, patting his pockets as he tried not to fall on his face, his hands coming up empty. "I don't have it."

Without looking, Lorne pulled his from his pocket and tossed it to Rodney. "They're hanging back, but not for much longer. Let's move this right along people!"

"What do you think we're doing? Having a nice before-dinner stroll?" Rodney grumbled, wiping a hand across his face, trying to keep the mud out of his eyes. He stumbled and fell to one knee, but Lorne quickly tugged him up again without missing a beat.

The gate whooshed open and Teyla turned, her gun firing at targets behind them. Rodney plugged in the code and pressed the send button, the green light coming back a few seconds later.

"We're clear. Go."

"Go. McKay first, then Teyla, then Ronon and I will follow." Lorne was still firing, as both he and Ronon started to back-walk for the gate.

Rodney wasn't going to argue. Panting and nearly out of breath, Teyla took his arm as he ran past, keeping him on his feet as they made the last mad dash for the gate.

In another minute it was all over, Lorne and Ronon falling through still firing, shouting for them to raise the shield. And then the gate was shut down and Elizabeth was coming down the stairs. Lorne met her, wiping his own bunch of mud out of his eyes. "Ma'am. I'm afraid that one will have to be counted as a 'no go.'"

Rodney leaned over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked, concern laced in her voice. "We didn't expect you back until sometime tomorrow."

"Yeah, turns out that planet sees visitors not as trade partners, but as a food source. Once we got to the village, they tried to make a grab for us, so we had to dash for the gate under fire."

"And the mud?"

"It was raining, Ma'am, and the place was full of very large mud puddles."

"Obviously," she said dryly. The sound of running feet made Rodney lift his head, watching as John and Carson ran into the gateroom at top speed.

"We heard the alarm. What happened?" John directed that at Elizabeth and Lorne, as Carson moved to the rest of the team, practiced eyes looking for damages.

"Unfriendly natives, sir," Lorne replied, "and large mud puddles."

John's lips twitched. "No one hurt?"

"Don't think so. We were a little…focused on not becoming dinner."

Elizabeth shook her head. "All right, go get cleaned up and checked out, just to be sure. Since it doesn't sound like there's much to report, we can do the debrief tomorrow morning."

Lorne agreed, talking with John and Elizabeth as Carson latched onto Rodney.

"You're a bit of a mess, lad, more than the others. Take a fall?"

"You could say that," Rodney wheezed, finally getting his breathing under control.

"Anything serious? If not, I'll let you go home and shower before checking you over."

"I have mud in places never meant to see mud and it's itchy."

"Go get cleaned up then. I'm off duty and was watching a movie with John, so the night shift will check your team over. I'll grab a kit and can give you a quick check in your apartment when I come back by if you'd prefer to do it that way."

Rodney glanced up, eyeing the Scot. "A shower would be wonderful," he said, shivering.

Carson patted his shoulder. "Go on then. I'll see you in a bit."

A quick glance showed John still talking with Lorne, so Rodney headed out, not caring that he was leaving a trail of mud—both wet and dry. He was cold and miserable and someone else could clean it up.

It took him a few minutes to get to his room, his body moving slower than usual now that the adrenaline had all worn off. He aimed right for the shower as soon as he stepped in his room, spotting the bowl of popcorn and bottles of water on the coffee table. Smaller cups with an amber liquid were sitting there as well.

Without taking off his boots or clothes, he stepped into the shower turning on the water. It would be easier to do it all in a warm shower without getting the mud all over. With a sigh, he turned up the temperature and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as the water ran over him, drenching him.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there when the shower door opened again. "Christ... Rodney? Are you okay?" John stripped out of his clothes and stepped in, starting to work on Rodney's.

"Stop. You'll get dirty," Rodney half protested, his hands trying to intercept John's.

"I'm fine. We need to get you out of this stuff." Nimble fingers made quick work of the straps on the vest, which was pulled off and tossed out of the shower, and John moved on to Rodney's jacket and shirt.

Rodney shrugged, giving up his fight. "Has to get washed anyway."

In a matter of minutes, Rodney was completely naked, and John went to work getting him clean, starting with washing his hair.

It took a while, but finally the water ran clean, no longer tinted by the dirt and mud of Planet Cannibal. John's hands were sure and strong as he finished washing him. The water snapped off a few moments later and then he was engulfed by a large warm towel. John rubbed his hands up and down his arms, drying him off.

"Come on. Carson said he would meet us here to do your post-mission. Let's get you into a pair of boxers, and then you can curl up on the couch. I have the remains of dinner, so you can eat a little something, too."

Rodney chuckled. "Look who's coming to dinner…"

John kissed his nose before leading him into the bedroom, dressing him and switching out the towel for a large, warm blanket.

Warm. He was finally warm.

He was led into the living room and ensconced in the couch, with John piling on another blanket. A glass of water was pressed into his hand. "I'm going to go see what leftovers Carson and I had, and what we have in the apartment. I'll be right back."

Rodney nodded, sipping at the water, his muscles relaxing as warmth spread through his body. Better. Much better.

John returned with a plate of food and snuggled into the blankets with Rodney, pulling him close—he had put on his own boxers after the shower, so it was mostly skin-on-skin. Rodney had only gotten a few bites down when Carson came back. "Ahh, good. I was hoping I had given you enough time. How are you feeling, lad?"

"Warmer," Rodney replied after he'd swallowed the bite of food he'd been chewing.

"Always a good thing." Carson squatted down in front of him. "Let me do a quick check, and then you can stay bundled up for the rest of the night."

"Mmm. 'kay," he said, uncurling enough to give Carson his arm. Blood pressure cuff. Needle for the blood draw. Check of his pulse. Carson worked quickly but thoroughly.

Once he was done, Carson bundled everything away. "Now that you're clean and warm, anything else you want to tell me about? If not, you're good to go, lad."

"No strange microbes? Bacterial meningitis? Some strange virus?"

"Won't know until your blood work comes back." The doctor smiled at him.

Rodney sniffed and tugged the blanket closer. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Now, I see John's given you something to eat which is good." He glanced up at Sheppard, who was still holding Rodney, although he had shifted during the exam to allow access.

"Why don't we finish the movie? Rodney's seen it before, so he can doze while we watch, and on the very off chance something crops up, you'll be here."

Rodney nodded, letting John tug him into his arms.

"Let me run these back to the infirmary first and than I'll come right back," Carson said, already moving toward the door.

"Okay. We'll be here." When the doctor had slipped out again, John kissed the warm spot just behind Rodney's ear. "Finish your dinner. That way you can just lie back and relax until we head to bed."

"They wanted to eat us," Rodney said quietly, still caught up in the mission. He could still smell them—that slight sour odor of the planet and the people.

Warm hands worked until they were flush with Rodney's chest. "You all made it back safe. You're home now."

"Now, yes. Then, it was a matter of a few minutes and we would have been dinner."

"But you weren't."

"Too close."

"It always is." John sighed. "I hate that you're out there without me. But Kate thinks I'm doing well, so with a little luck, I'll be back to full, active duty again soon."

Rodney shifted, the skin on his back crawling again. "Are you sure you got everything off me?"

"Yes. I scrubbed until you were all nice and pink. Not a spec of mud."

"Are you sure? I feel like something's crawling up my back."

John sat him forward a bit, running a hand up and down Rodney's back. "I don't feel anything. Just skin."

Rodney shivered a little as the cooler air crept in under the blanket. "You're sure?"

John kissed his shoulder. "I'm sure."

Scooting down the couch, Rodney laid down, pillowing his head in John's lap, releasing a long sigh. It had been a long day.

John stroked along his temple, through his hair. "Just close your eyes and relax."

Rodney took another breath, letting John's touch relax him. "So, what's up with Carson?"

"What do you mean?"

"Drinking."

"We were having a little something while we watched the movie. He needed to relax, too."

"Haven't had alcohol in a while."

"I had just poured it when we heard the unscheduled activation announcement over our radios. Neither of us wanted to get drunk, but he needed something to help him relax, and I knew he wouldn't drink unless I did, too."

"Problems?"

"Nothing specific. He's lonely and I think he misses us—and you specifically—as friends. Just hanging out, watching movies, getting in that down time. We've been so focused on each other, I didn't realize we were letting some of our other relationships slip a bit. I was trying to take the first steps to fix that tonight, having him over for dinner and a movie."

"Oh," Rodney said quietly, letting John's petting relax him. "He never said anything."

"I had to pry it out of him. He is happy for us, for what we have, so he didn't want to make us feel bad, I think. But I seem to remember you telling me he plays chess. I might try to set up a weekly game with him, and I was going to see what you thought of setting up regular team nights again. We have this great entertainment center now, we can have him, Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth and Radek over maybe once a week barring emergencies. It would be a good way for us all to remember why we're doing this."

Rodney let John's words wash over him, settle into his mind. He'd noticed Carson had been a bit withdrawn, but hadn't thought much of it. The Scot was like that every now and again. "Sure," Rodney finally answered. "Here or the rec room depending on who's invited. I'm not sure it's a good idea to flaunt our…relationship in front of Elizabeth or Zelenka."

"We wouldn't be flaunting it. We can keep the doors to the bedrooms closed. But the rec room would work. We could invite Lorne and Parrish in that case, too. Not everyone will be able to make every week, but if we set up a regular time, I bet most of us will make a point of being there whenever we can."

Rodney rolled a little onto his back so he could look up at John. He reached up, letting his fingers trail over his lover's jaw, the metal of his wrist cuff reflecting the light in the room. "I think it's a good idea, but we might need to order more popcorn."

"Mmmm." John's eyes went to half mast as he tilted his head to give Rodney better access. "We can do that. We're going to add more kitchen and personal foodstuffs to our requests anyway, right? If we want to do smaller gatherings sometimes, once I have that stuff, I can cook for them."

"I love you," Rodney said simply, loving the feel of his lover.

The smile he got for that was sweet, open, and full of relaxed happiness. "Love you, too."

"Kiss me?"

John's smile softened, and he shifted so he could lean in, capturing Rodney's mouth in a gentle kiss.

It was awkward but perfect at the same time. Rodney arched up, his hand reaching to hold the back of John's head.

The slow slide of lips and tongues let them both dart in and out, tasting each other.

Rodney purred, letting himself get lost in the feel and taste of his lover. He was too tired to do more, but this connection was just what he needed. The sound of the door chime was the only thing that broke them out of their little bubble.

John broke off with a last nibble to Rodney's lips. "That's Carson. We'll pick this back up later."

Rodney nodded, licking lips and relaxing back down on the couch, his lover adjusting the blanket to cover him once again.

Once they were presentable—which didn't take long, John must have given the door the mental command to open because Carson was strolling in, glancing over them. John smiled at him. "All good in the infirmary?"

"Aye. Just wanted to make sure Rodney's information was recorded and his blood sent to the labs. Are ye sure you want to continue the movie? I can just as easily go back to my quarters."

"We're sure. Rodney probably won't stay awake for the whole thing, but I didn't think you would mind that. We were actually chatting about setting up a regular movie night. But we can talk about that later."

"John even volunteered to cook," Rodney said quietly, attempting to point at his lover, but his arm got trapped in the blanket.

Chuckling, John helped him get comfortable again. "Yeah. Even if it's nothing fancy, a weekly excuse to cook would be a nice hobby."

"I wouldn't complain," Rodney commented getting a chuckle from Carson as well.

John and Carson chatted for a few minutes before the movie went on, somewhere in the middle. Rodney watched it absently, relaxing on the couch, John's hand threading through his hair, fingers trailing down his shoulder.

His lover's fingers found their way to the back of his neck, massaging lightly. He didn't have much leverage, but he gently worked on the few more prominent knots.

Rodney sighed contentedly, letting his eyes close half-way. A few minutes later—or an hour later—John was gently shaking him.

"Hmm?" He pried open an eye, lazily glancing up at John, realizing the living room was dark, the movie off, and Carson was gone.

John smiled. "Time for bed."

"Already?"

"It's late. The movie ended about a half-hour ago, and I let you doze on the couch while I saw Carson to the door."

"I wasn't sleeping," Rodney protested.

His lover laughed softly. "Come on. We'll both be more comfortable in bed."

Rodney snorted, but shoved himself upright, letting John tug him to his feet. He was warm and comfortable and really pliant. "I was thinking."

"Uh huh." His lover twined their fingers together.

"My ass is feeling very neglected."

"Is it now?" Grinning, John led him into the bedroom. "Your ass was asleep and snoring for the last hour."

"Was not."

Rodney got a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Were to. It was cute. Not very loud, but you make this little snuffling noise..."

Rodney snorted. "Ne-glec-ted."

John wrapped his arms around Rodney, his hands dipping into the boxers to cup the globes of Rodney's ass. "Just what is your ass looking for? Does it need to be kissed and squeezed and marked?"

Nodding, Rodney tugged John closer. "I think that's just for starters."

John nipped at Rodney's neck, a puff of warm air betraying his amusement—and the growing erection pressing against Rodney betraying his interest. "Really? What else did it have in mind?"

"Maybe some rimming. Fucking, of course. It's greedy and feeling very neglected."

John turned his head to look at Rodney, grinning, his eyes crinkled with it. "Well we can't have that, now can we? It's a very nice ass."

"I'm glad you agree. I think it's a good ass. Fits really well in your hands," Rodney said, humming as John squeezed a little. "And considering the fact that it's been horribly neglected for the past forty-eight hours, I think you might need to do something to rectify the situation."

One hand moved to tease at the crack while the other started kneading. "Hmm, when you put it that way, it sounds like I've been falling down on the job. I might just have to secure said ass in a proper position for some serious apologies."

"Yes," Rodney said nodding, his body beginning to respond to John's touches. "It's very neglected."

"You said that. I think maybe you should free it from all the fabric and climb up on the bed so I can fix the situation."

"Your hands are in the optimal location to do that."

John's hands squeezed again, caressing each cheek. "Ahh, but then I would have to let go, and risk your ass feeling abandoned too."

"So you want me to maneuver my body into some strange and contorted position to remove my own boxers?"

He got a hot puff of air against his neck, then John pulled his hands free and stepped back. "Go arrange yourself while I get what I'll need."

"Hmm…" Rodney said, looking appreciatively over his lover's body. "I could do that."

Long and lean and hairy. John was... breathtaking. And the glint of amusement in his eyes, coupled with the bulge in his boxers, just made him more attractive. "I think I want your ass to be surprised. More fun if you don't know what's coming."

"Oh? And how to you intend to make it a surprise?" Rodney asked, standing in the middle of the bedroom, his hands on his hips.

"By waiting until you're on your stomach on the bed, tied down and blindfolded, to get any toys out." John smirked at him.

"Hmm. Maybe," Rodney said, taking a few steps closer to John once again.

John side-stepped, moving around behind Rodney and wrapping his arms around him, so they were chest to back. He nibbled on Rodney's ear a little. "I want to ravish you properly."

"Do you think you're up for it? My neglected ass wants to know."

"I'll let you be the judge of that afterward. If your ass is still neglected, I'll let you demand reparations."

"Will you now?"

"Mmm hmm." John pressed kisses all down Rodney's neck.

Rodney leaned back against John, pressing into his growing erection and pulling a moan from his lover. "Problem?"

"You're too damn tempting, especially if I want to spend serious time reducing you to incoherency before I fuck you." John pushed his nose into Rodney's hair. "Go get on the bed. I want to make you fly."

"Mmm. Make me." It seemed his power nap during the movie had given him a second wind and he hadn't played with John like this in a while.

John's hands moved down, only instead of pulling the boxers down, he pulled them up, bunching the fabric around Rodney's groin and constricting his cock a little.

Rodney growled, tensing a little before forcing his body to relax. "A wedgie. How mature."

"It is paying attention to your ass though. Focus on how the fabric rubs in different ways, hinting at what I'll be doing later with my tongue."

"I guess," Rodney said, forcing a casual shrug. "It's not very convinced you mean business, though."

"That's because I'm just getting started. Have to work up to it."

"I’m not sure about that."

John started to stroke Rodney's erection using the fabric. "No?"

"Oh….no. Not at all. I mean, take for instance that I'm still on my feet instead of on the bed."

"Mmmm, true. But it's not like I'm just standing around doing nothing." He moved the fabric over the head of Rodney's dick until it was damp.

"No…no…" Rodney moaned a little. "You are doing something, certainly, but my ass is certainly jealous of the attention spent on other body parts."

"Ahh, but all body parts are connected. If I get you sensitized here, your ass will feel so much better in a few minutes when I move on to it."

"Maybe. Unless it gets bored."

While one hand continued to tease Rodney's dick, the other moved back to trace the material between his cheeks, teasing at where his entrance was covered by it.

Rodney rocked back, humming as John touched him.

Gradually, he was walked toward the bed. John didn't give him any warning before the stroking stopped and he was pushed into the soft give of the mattress, his lover right behind him. John had pushed him onto his stomach and was on top of Rodney, pinning him, as he strained to reach the straps they left attached to the headboard.

Rodney, of course, wasn't going to make it easy. This was far too much fun. He tried to shift, to get his knees under him in an attempt to shove John in the direction opposite from where he was stretching.

John set his knees on either side of Rodney, giving him a bit more stability. He managed to snag one strap and hook it to a cuff before Rodney managed to twist the right way to overbalance him and send him tumbling into the bed.

"John, those are the good ones," Rodney complained.

"Then I guess you'll just have to be careful, won't you?" John smirked at him. "Once I get you how I want you, I'll swap them out, one at a time. I'm not giving up what little advantage I've managed to get here, though."

"That is just so unfair," Rodney grumbled, shifting up the bed a little so he wouldn't ruin the jewelry cuff.

John just chuckled again, taking his time to hook the second strap to his other wrist. "Mmmm, there we go. Now I can go get the leather cuffs and really arrange you how I want."

"These aren't appropriate bondage items," Rodney complained. "These don't count."

"Ahh, but they keep you where I want you, do they not?" He heard John rooting around, and a moment later he was beside Rodney, trading out the first cuff for the one they used for heavy play.

"Because I don't want to do something to damage them," Rodney said, watching as the thick leather cuff wrapped around his wrist before it was buckled down, a padlock added to keep it locked. A second padlock secured the tether to the cuff's d-ring. John took his time unlocking the jewelry cuff, placing it carefully on the bedside table.

"You won't. They're not for real heavy play, no. But they can take a little tussling like this." John smiled at him as he moved around the bed to do the other wrist.

"I still think you didn't play fair," Rodney whined, turning his head to watch John, the feeling of anticipation growing in his stomach as his other wrist was soon captured within the leather, the padlocks in place. The tethers weren't pulled tight—yet. He was sure John would do that eventually.

"That depends on what you consider the goal to be: strapping you down or setting us up for some serious ass kissing... literally."

"Dunno. Depends on what you have in mind, I guess, to take care of my poor neglected ass."

He could hear John rummaging again, and then Rodney's boxers were shoved off and he was pushed up onto his knees, legs spread wide. John attached cuffs to each ankle, and then did some fancy cross-strapping so Rodney could barely twitch, much less break the position. "Mmm, I have some ideas."

Rodney turned his head so he could watch John as he dug through the drawer, his face thoughtful. "Just some?"

His lover gave a triumphant hum as he found what he was looking for. Holding it up, Rodney saw it was the blindfold that blocked out all light, along with the earplugs.

"John?" They hadn't played hard like this in a very long time and Rodney felt a stirring of arousal and anticipation in his stomach.

"Yes?" John moved back to the bed. He smiled softly.

"Are you…are we…?" Rodney wasn't sure what to ask, but he needed to know John was okay with this. Oddly enough, ever since the space pirates mission Rodney had been worrying—mostly silently—about his lover. There had been a desperateness there and something else. It was hard to explain or put a finger on.

John laid on the bed so he could brush his lips against Rodney's. "Yeah. If you're up for it. I want to play with you."

"God, yes, please," Rodney breathed out in a rush.

He got another quick lick against his lips, and then John sat up. The earplugs were very gently set in place, and then the blindfold followed.

Rodney's breath caught in the back of his throat as he was plunged into darkness and silence. Tugging at the bonds holding him in place, he knew he moaned, could feel the vibration in his chest, hear it internally. John's fingers trailed over his shoulder and down his back before leaving him entirely, the bed shifting as he moved away.

He was left like that just long enough for the anticipation to build. Finally, the bed dipped, and a finger was traced down his crack, touching his entrance briefly before disappearing again.

He tried to shift again, to move, but John had tightened everything down. Until his lover saw fit to untie him, to move him, he was locked in place. All he could do was let go and take it.

Rodney groaned at the thought, feeling his thoughts begin to slow. He wanted this so badly, needed this.

Something warm and wet licked it's way up the center of his ass, then moved off to the side, nipping and kissing and sucking at random.

John's hands caressed and stroked his legs, his ass, bringing Rodney down at the same time as he began to wind him up. He knew every place, every touch that would do it.

After every square inch of Rodney's ass had been worshipped, his entrance, without warning, was suddenly penetrated by a warm, wet tongue.

Rodney moaned loudly, his body shuddering with need.

A hand suddenly squeezed his dick, right at the base—a warning not to come, despite only wearing the jeweled ring, meant more for decoration than for real play.

He whimpered, even as his orgasm backed off. He knew he begged, knew he said something, but for the life if him he didn't know what.

After a moment, John backed off, and the barely-there pressure of the cock ring disappeared, to be replaced with the instant tightening and low buzz of their Ancient model.

Rodney moaned, rocking slightly between the restraints.

Something pressed against his entrance again, and then slid all the way inside. It wasn't thicker than a finger—one of the slimline vibrators. It started to buzz.

Rodney's breath caught in his throat, his body shuddering as sensations overwhelmed him for a moment, before his body relaxed into it. At the rate John was switching out things, Rodney wouldn't be surprised to have a new, heavier collar and nipple rings before too long—complete with the various chains and such. John didn't tend to bring them out very often, but tonight could be one of those nights.

He got another bite to his ass cheek as the vibrator was slowly—very slowly—pulled almost all the way out, then pushed back in. With the way he was tied, Rodney had no way to push back to speed things up. He just had to take it.

And god, it felt good. So good. The bite even more so. Rodney could picture the skin blossoming under John's treatment, turning red first, before offering up a small mark that would fade in a few days.

He got a few more of the marks as John worked him open, avoiding Rodney's prostate for the most part. At one point, the vibe was left in, and Rodney didn't realize John had moved, so caught up in the sensations, until his collar was pulled off and the heavy, tight leather replaced it. A moment later, almost as if his lover had read his mind, the nipple rings were replaced as well, the heavy chain that ran between them and up to the collar and down to the cock ring pulling as it dangled down.

Rodney moaned in contentment and pleasure as each and every piece, every mark, decorated his body. He was John's to play with, to use, to pleasure. Being owned like this felt so good.

While the vibrator buzzed happily in his ass, John expanded his kisses and marks to the rest of Rodney's back and shoulders. Since he was usually tied down on his back—John's preferred way for the most part—the area seemed more sensitized.

He knew he howled and moaned as John played with him, marked him. He was flying.

Eventually, the slim vibe moved again, pulling completely free. Before Rodney had a chance to sob at its loss, another, slightly thicker one was pushed in its place and the whole thing began all over again as Rodney was worked and stretched and marked and loved.

Time had no meaning. An hour could have been a minute, or a minute an hour. Rodney didn't care. He was free and that's all that mattered.

The pattern kept up, as John fucked him with increasing larger dildos. He knew they had some that were even larger than his lover, although they had never used them. This time however—he felt the push against his entrance, bigger than anything he had taken before. It paused—John was giving him a chance to object, and he knew this would be his only chance.

"Do it, please…please John," he begged, wanting to feel it, wanting the burn and the stretch.

And then it was sliding in, slowly. Inch by inch. John pulled it back out and then pushed back in, letting Rodney adjust and stretch until it was fully inside him, filling him, leaving no room for anything else.

It was huge but…oh god…it was so perfect, so right. The only thing better would be John himself—his cock, his hand…oh god, that would be so hot, so very hot… He must have moaned because John began stroking his back

As he stroked, Rodney suddenly felt something else teasing at his entrance—John's finger. It wasn't pressed in far, but the tip was slipped in alongside, pressing Rodney even further open.

John shifted on the bed and Rodney could feel his lover pressed against him, lips close to his ear, asking him if he could take it, if he could take more. His other hand maneuvered down to his chest, stroking before he started tugging on the chains, pulling a deep moan from Rodney's mouth.

John didn't move, just let Rodney feel. A second fingertip was pressed next to the first, and again, held still.

God. John was splitting him open and he only wanted more.

His lover continued to stroke his back, soothing him, nibbling on his ear. He could feel when his body relaxed completely because both of John's fingers slid a little further in.

So good. John shifted again, his free hand continuing to stroke his chest and tug at the chains, the pain and pleasure mixing together until it was one.

Leaving the dildo in place, John was finger-fucking Rodney slowly. Every once in a while, his other hand would stray from the chains to give a firm tug to Rodney's steadily-leaking erection, before returning to his chest to play.

Rodney was flying. They had never played this hard, played like this before. He'd never dreamed he could feel like this, that John could take him so far, so high. God.

Slowly, John's fingers withdrew, leaving just the dildo in place. He also stopped playing with the chains, his hand coming to rest against the small of Rodney's back. And then he did nothing.

Time passed. And then more. Rodney wasn't sure exactly when he started begging, pleading for John to do something, to move, that god he was so full, but he wanted more.

The hand that had been stroking his chest brushed against Rodney's lips, then pressed inside.

Effectively muffled, Rodney sucked on John's fingers, all of the ones he'd pushed into his mouth. And there were at least three, if not four, filling him, just like John had filled his ass. And Rodney's mind immediately jumped, wishing it was John's cock pressed in deep instead, or the cock gag Rodney knew John had bought—the one he wasn't supposed to see from the last Daedalus run.

He felt warm breath on his ear, and then heard John, speaking just loud enough to be heard through the plugs, praising him, telling him how beautiful he was.

Rodney simply moaned, the only thing he could do.

John pulled his fingers free and the bed shifted as he moved away.

Shifting on the bed as much as the restraints would allow, Rodney moaned as the vibrations from the cock ring increased, his body rocking slightly. So good. So good.

After a moment, John's weight settled back on the bed, and his voice was soft against Rodney's ear, once more just loud enough for him to hear. "I have another surprise for you. Open your mouth."

Rodney did so without hesitation, feeling John shift on the bed beside him. A moment later he felt the weight of the cock gag on his tongue, filling his mouth. He moaned. Oh god, yes.

It was buckled into place, giving him no way to escape. "If it needs to come out, hum row, row, row your boat."

The gag was big, larger than the ball gags they usually used. It pressed in deep, was heavy on his tongue. But right now it couldn't be more perfect. He moaned again, the sound mostly trapped, his body trembling with need and anticipation. He was flying and John was letting him, guiding him.

The dildo, which John had just left pressed inside him, was suddenly pulled out a few inches, then pushed back in. It filled him completely, gave him no where to hide.

At the next thrust of the dildo, Rodney felt little pieces of himself breaking, flying away in the pleasure. The gag filling his mouth, the dildo filling his ass, the heavy weight of the chains tugging his nipples, the vibration from the cock ring surrounding him and traveling up the chains, making him tremble. It was perfect and complete and he was lost somewhere in the middle.

John's free hand was resting in the small of his back, giving him a single anchor point, freeing him to let go, knowing his lover would be there to bring him back when it was time.

The sensations, the smell of musk and sex, and John's hand were his world, his complete world. He shifted back a little as John fucked him with the dildo, meeting John's thrust with a small one of his own, sending the vibrator in even deeper.

Rodney was only vaguely aware that he was moaning almost continuously now. But John took him by surprise when, on the next stroke, the dildo was pulled completely free of his body, leaving him empty.

He whined loudly, wanting the full feeling back, but John's hand was there on the small of his back, rubbing in a circle to calm him. And Rodney let him.

He felt his lover shift, and then John was inside him. Because his lover was actually smaller than the last dildo, it was…different. Like something completely new.

Rodney moaned. The familiarity of John's cock inside him was comforting in a way.

Unlike with the dildos, where John used short, slow thrusts, after a few adjustments, he was fucking Rodney hard, tagging his prostate every time, sending sparks of pleasure all through his body.

And Rodney was flying. He felt his lover tremble once and then there was a warmth filling him, John's thrusts breaking off as he collapsed on Rodney's back.

Perfect. So perfect, was Rodney's only thought as his lover breathed heavily against him. It took a few moments before he moved again, before John's cock was replaced by something cold and heavy—a large metal plug.

The straps holding him in place were manipulated, and Rodney was lowered, so he was flat on his stomach, in a position not unlike how he slept when he was alone. And then he was tied back down.

God. He was hot and bothered and hard as a rock, but none of that really mattered. John's hands on him were gentle and loving, petting and caressing.

One of the earplugs was pulled out, leaving sounds still somewhat muffled, but he could hear John's soft voice. His sexy top bedroom voice. "You're beautiful. I want to keep you like this all night."

Rodney simply nodded, the only part of his body he could move.

"Hard and leaking for me. Filled. Your ass is marked all over." John gave that ass a few light swats, giving Rodney one more sensation to flood his senses.

Rodney moaned again, arching up a little into John's hand. His brain had turned itself off long ago. Now he was only a mass of nerves and sensations, his body demanding more, wanting more, to feel everything.

He heard a deep chuckle. John began to spread the swats out, making sure no part of Rodney's ass was untouched. "It's all pink now, with my marks dotting your cheeks. And the plug glittering in the middle. I love you like this."

And Rodney loved this, loved being like this. John squeezed one of his cheeks and pulled a deep moan from his body. He shifted a little, all he could manage, to press into John's hand. Pain and pleasure were all one and the same, the sensations driving him higher into arousal and deeper into submission at the same time.

His lover settled down, stroking Rodney's ass over and over, occasionally pressing against a mark, sending little flares through him. The vibrations on the cock ring changed at random, keeping it from fading into the background.

Rodney panted and moaned around the gag, still heavy in his mouth. How did John know this was exactly what he needed?

"I don't think I'm going to let you come tonight. I want you to wake up aching for it, knowing you belong to me."

And Rodney did. He was John's, completely and fully. He shifted again, the barest amount, tugging at the restraints holding him to the bed. There was still a little play in them from side to side.

John's hand drifted back up, along his spine, across his shoulders. The buzz of the ring slowly started to subside until it was barely there. Almost comforting. "Just relax. I'll take the gag off in a minute so you can sleep."

He nodded, letting his body melt a little further into the mattress.

"Good boy." John's voice was soothing. The gag was unlocked from around Rodney's head, but John didn't pull it free. "I know you like to be filled—you can keep it in your mouth for the sensation if you want, but I don't want us to fall asleep with you unable to spit it out."

Rodney hummed, already feeling his body starting to drift off.

"Love you." John's warmth was suddenly pressed all along Rodney's side, his hand still resting in the small of his back.

Rodney wiggled his ass, humming as John's hand slid lower, cupping his cheek.

There was a faint squeeze, just enough to send little thrills through his body, but not enough to ramp him all the way back up again. And then John's hand stilled, resting against the hot skin.

Humming in contentment, Rodney let his body slide into slumber. When he woke up again—minutes or hours later, he didn't know—the room was quiet, John warm beside him. He shifted toward his lover and his warmth, his body shivering slightly where it wasn't covered by John.

His lover muttered something unintelligible, fast asleep.

The last thing he wanted to do was wake John, but he was so cold. How his scrawny lover was still warm was beyond what Rodney could think of right now. He slowly worked the gag from his mouth, his jaw sore and stiff. "John?" he said, the word barely a whisper.

"Mmmmmph?" John muttered again, and what felt like a nose nuzzled against Rodney's shoulder.

"Cold," he whispered, his body choosing that moment to shiver, goose bumps rising on his skin.

Lips pressed against the spot John had been sleeping against. "'Kay. Lemme grab a blanket."

His lover shifted away, cool air sliding across the sleep-warmed skin.

He heard John moving around the room, and a moment later, a heavy warmth settled over him, followed swiftly by John reclaiming his spot against Rodney's side. "Better?"

"Will be," Rodney whispered, still shivering. "Sorry."

John's hand rubbed up and down his back. "Don't be. How are you feeling otherwise?"

"Good…really good."

John hummed, his hand slipped lower, back to the curve of Rodney's ass.

Rodney moaned a little as John touched him, arching his back to get more pressure.

The cock ring, which had shut off as they had fallen asleep, now flared to life again, starting at its lowest setting.

"Mmm…so good," Rodney moaned, the vibration and John's touches easing him back down again. He'd come up when he'd woken up cold, but John would take care of him.

John began to massage his ass cheek lightly. "Just relax again, and go back to sleep. Dream about me, and what it feels like when I touch you. Dream about all the ways I make you feel good, and when you wake up, I'll give you another practical demonstration."

"Please," Rodney whispered, body aching and hurting in all the right places.

"Sleep now and we'll play more later." Lips brushed against Rodney's temple.

"Love you so much."

He got a happy hum for that, and then lips brushing against his own—the angle had to be awkward, so the kiss was baby soft, but so sweet it made Rodney's chest ache. "Love you, too."

"Hold me?"

John wrapped himself around Rodney, his limbs heavy in all the right ways. His breath was warm against Rodney's neck. "Better?"

"Mmmm," Rodney said, nodding, letting his mind drift away now that his lover was anchoring him.

"Good. Sleep. I'll be in your dreams, and waiting for you here when you wake up again."

Rodney snuffed into the bed, purring a little as he drifted off to sleep with John holding him close.

The next time he woke, he could feel vibrations running through his body, his lover's hands caressing and touching him everywhere. He moaned, breathing out John's name.

"Good morning."

Rodney didn't think it was possible to go from dead asleep to on-the-edge arousal in less than five seconds, but with John anything was possible. He moaned again, panting into the bed, his chin encountering the gag John had used last night.

"I know I want you to come this morning. The only real question is: do I want you to come while I fuck you again? Do I want to turn you over and come in your mouth first, then blow you until you're begging to be allowed to come? Decisions, decisions."

Rodney shuddered at John's words, wanting everything. "Fuck…fuck my mouth. Please. Want to taste you. Then…gag me and play…please. Gag will taste like you then. You can fuck me again."

His ass cheeks were squeezed, making him moan. "Willing to wait for me to recover to come, hmm?"

"Yes, anything…want you, please."

"I'm going to loosen the straps, but not unhook them. Turn over, with your arms and ankles crossed, so you're on your back."

Rodney nodded, feeling John moving around on the bed. He remained still even though he felt the tension easing off. He wanted this so badly.

John patted his deliciously sore ass. "Turn over."

It took a few tries, and John helping him to get himself onto his back. His ass was sore and he moaned as soon as it touched the bed, but it felt good. John was moving again, adjusting the straps, tightening them down.

Because his arms and legs were crossed, held tightly together, Rodney was almost completely immobilized. This wasn't a position they had used before either—but John wasn't planning to fuck him like this—couldn't fuck him like this. He just wanted to play with Rodney's body.

But the tightness, the immobility was perfect.

"Hmmm." That was the only warning he got before John's mouth descended on Rodney's nipples.

Rodney yelped before easing down into moans. The heavy chains last night—over the course of the night when he'd been on his knees—had made them even more sensitive than usual. He arched his back a little, the chains tightening between his collar and cock ring, just adding more sensation.

John started to hum as he sucked and flicked and teased first one nub, then the other.

So good. So good. Oh so very good.

Leaving his nipples, Rodney realized John was mouthing the chain down, toward his straining erection.

Rodney moaned, anticipating the feeling of hot and wet and oh so good on his cock.

But instead of wrapping his mouth around the leaking flesh, John lapped at the tip, blowing air all down Rodney's length.

"Oh god!" Rodney said, shuddering.

John chuckled, then did it again, licking his way almost delicately up and down Rodney's length, then blowing.

A strangled moan was all Rodney could offer, tugging at the restraints and his crossed limbs, but he had nowhere to go. He angled his head back, his entire body trembling with pleasure.

Because he was still wearing the blindfold, he felt John shift again, but didn't know what his lover was doing until the head of his lover's leaking erection—just taking care of Rodney was arousing John—brushed against his lips, demanding entrance.

Rodney moaned and opened his mouth immediately. Yes. So good. He licked the tip before John plunged in, filling his mouth. This was so much better than the gag.

His lover didn't give him much time to adjust. He didn't move fast, but he did go deep, forcing Rodney to relax his throat and take it, allow himself to be used.

John was panting over him as he slowly fucked his mouth. Thrusting in and out, John went deeper with every stroke, holding himself in place inside, so deep he cut off Rodney's air, making him work for each and every breath.

And it was perfect.

John's breathing was getting more ragged on every stroke. Rodney was rewarded with soft moans every time he managed to get in a lick or a suck. Finally, his lover keened softly. "Going to come, oh God, Rodney..."

And then John was pressing in deep, pulsing down Rodney's throat, filling his mouth with the bitter taste he was craving.

It was accompanied by the sexy noises his lover made when he came. Rodney could picture it, John's head thrown back, wanton, a light sheen on his chest from the exertion.

Rodney moaned and hummed in contentment, pleased he had done that. He was still holding John's softening cock in his mouth, sucking lightly.

Above him, John twitched and whimpered a few times. "Love you."

Rodney only moaned again, his erection hard and needy, beginning to hurt now.

Slowly, John pulled himself free. He scooted down Rodney's body, and then they were kissing. Deep, dirty, wet, and perfect.

Rodney arched up into John's body, moaning into the kiss as what little was left of his mind slowly leaked out of his ear.

John didn't break it off all at once. Rather, he slowly progressed to lighter kisses, then he was nibbling softly at Rodney's bottom lip.

He was panting, his body desperate and needy. This was probably the longest he'd gone in a scene without coming and he knew he still had to wait.

Something else brushed against his lips. The gag.

Opening his mouth eagerly, he heard John chuckle—low and dirty.

It was slipped in, filling his mouth, the lingering taste of John just making it better. Once it was buckled into place, John started licking and kissing and marking his way down Rodney's body again, choosing his path seemingly at random.

And Rodney gave himself up to the sensations, feeling full and safe and cared for. John would give him his pleasure, would let him fly.

John proceeded to push him further than Rodney thought he had ever gone before. He took him to the edge and then kept him there, panting and moaning, body screaming for a release he knew he wasn't getting any time soon.

And through it all, John was praising him, making Rodney want to hang on longer, wanting to please his lover, his top.

The straps were loosened, and Rodney found he had a little wiggle room. "Turn over. Head and shoulders on the bed, on your knees with your ass in the air."

Rodney tried, he really did, but his body wasn't listening. Whining in frustration, John's hands were gentle when they touched him.

"Shhh. It's okay. I'm here. When you're ready to try again, I'll help you." His lover was soothing, brushing across his temple, running through Rodney's hair.

Nodding, Rodney shifted his weight to the side and John was there, helping him, easing him into the position he wanted. Rodney moaned, his muscles a little sore but it felt so good. John's hands arranged him before tightening down the straps once again.

"Beautiful." Hands ran down Rodney's back and sides, over his ass.

Rodney moaned, pushing back a little into John's hands.

"I wish I could keep you like this all the time. Forget everything except us, together, making each other feel good."

He moaned again. If he could feel like this all the time…

"I'm not going to let you answer now, but later, when you've had a chance to come and you can think a little again... we're not in the middle of an emergency right now, so we can play a little. If it won't interfere with your work, I want to keep you a little in headspace for the next few days. Up enough to be able to work, but relaxed and coming when I call for you."

Oh god. That would be so hot…so… He moaned again, the sound edged with need and want.

John's hand teased between his ass cheeks. "You'd be wearing the ring, and I would leave it off for the most part. But when I wanted you, it would start to buzz, and you'd come find me and I'd make you feel so good. Sometimes I'd let you come. Sometimes I wouldn't."

Rodney pressed back into John's hands, wanting more.

"Under your clothes, I'd keep the rings in, and the chain that runs between them and the cock ring. Every time you moved, you'd feel it, feel me. You'd be plugged, so no matter what you did, you would remember that your body belongs to me. Mine to love, to pleasure, to protect."

He was whimpering and moaning, wanting John to move, but he wasn't, just sitting there, holding his ass.

John started to move just his thumb, in and out, just above the plug still inside Rodney's body. The light sensation was driving him wild, combined with John's steady, quiet descriptions of all the places and ways he would make Rodney feel good.

His moans and whimpers were continuous now. John's taste was on his tongue, filling his senses just as the gag filled his mouth, heavy on his tongue. He smelled sex and John and couldn't get enough of it.

The plug was tugged out, leaving him empty for a moment. And then the large dildo from the night before was pressed against him. John went slowly, giving him time to adjust. He was still open, but the vibrator was large, filling him and stretching him.

He was sore, but it felt so good. He pushed back a little, the dildo sliding in a little deeper a little faster than John was pushing it and he got a whack on his ass for it.

"Just feel. That's all I want you to do."

Rodney groaned loudly.

The cock ring buzzed, hard, for a few seconds. "Just feel."

He whimpered, his body shuddering hard as he panted around the gag. He tugged at the restraints, but there was no give, no real room to move. John shifted on the bed behind him, pushing the dildo in deeper once again, stretching him wide open, his aching ass welcoming the intrusion, wanting it, greedily accepting it.

"I'm going to fuck you with this, listen to all the sexy noises you make. When I'm hard and aching for you again, then I'll pull it out and it will be me inside you. Then, and only then, will you be allowed to come." The ring once more kicked up to its highest setting, tightening down a little at the same time to ensure Rodney couldn't come even if he wanted to. John was in charge. His body belonged to John.

Rodney whimpered at the strangle-hold the ring had on his cock, the vibrations spreading up his body to his nipples and to the collar around his neck. His entire body was on fire, trembling and shaking with need.

But John didn't give him time to adjust. His lover started to fuck him with the vibrator—now on—slowly at first as he stretched around it, then speeding up. Because the thing was big enough, there was no avoiding Rodney's prostate on every single stroke.

Every time it pressed deep, Rodney swore he could feel it in the back of his throat. He was moaning for it, desperately wanting it. He was John's whore and he loved it.

"You make the sexiest noises. All moans and whimpers and desperation. It makes me want to keep doing wicked things to you, just so I can hear more."

Rodney managed to nod his head, hearing the love and approval and arousal in his lover's voice. He'd done that, he'd put it there.

On the next stroke, instead of pulling the vibrator out, John twisted it, turning it inside Rodney for a whole new set of sensations.

Rodney swore he saw stars from the steady pressure on his prostate. It felt so good. He felt so good. His breath hitched a little when John eased off, pausing for a few beats.

And then he did it again. And again. Each time giving Rodney no more than a heartbeat, a quick breath, between them.

There was no way someone could feel like this—so good—for so long and not just explode or something.

"God... Rodney... You're so..." John sounded almost as devastated as Rodney felt. Just from doing this, from Rodney giving him everything.

He was John's. Everything was his and there wasn't a more complete or perfect moment in his life than right now.

The dildo slipped out again, and was once more replaced with slick, hot flesh. "Oh god... You can... can come when the ring comes off..."

There was nothing better than having John inside of him, filling him, pressing in deep.

The cock ring pulsed along with John's thrusts, which were getting harder, more erratic every time.

Rodney relaxed his muscles as much as he could, letting John slide in even deeper, letting John take him, claim him once again.

"Oh…fuck... Rodney..." As the heat of John coming filled Rodney's ass, the cock ring fell away, coming off at his lover's mental command.

And as soon as it loosened, he was coming—harder and more spectacularly than ever before. His climax roared through his body, wave after wave of pleasure blanketing him until it all coalesced in a bright white and he tumbled down into darkness, knowing John would catch him.

He woke some time later, rolled on his side, John spooned up behind him. His arms were no longer held over his head, but instead curled against his chest, the cuffs still in place. He could feel the ankle cuffs were still there as well, warm against the skin.

Rodney moaned quietly, vaguely realizing the gag was gone. He was fucked senseless and he couldn't imagine feeling any better than he did right now.

"Welcome back." John's voice was soft, and his arms tightened around Rodney, holding him close.

He hummed, shifting a little against John.

John's lips brushed into Rodney's hair as he was allowed to just drift, enjoying how good he felt.

Sighing contentedly, Rodney smiled to himself, sliding his hands down to hold onto John's. He didn't want to come up, wanted to stay like this for as long as humanly possible.

John worked one leg between Rodney's, pulling their bodies even closer together. Then he let Rodney drift, safe and warm and loved.

Rodney knew he drifted—half sleeping, half awake—until John's hands were stroking his body once again, his words whispering in his ear.

"I hate to do this to you, but you have to be in the labs in about an hour, and I have to meet with Kate. We need to shower, and regardless of whether your schedule is free enough for me to play with you today, I need you to come up far enough to be able to function." John brushed the words into Rodney's hair, interspersed with light kisses.

Rodney moaned softly, feeling his body coming to life again. He just wanted to stay like this. There were no worries, no doubts.

"I know." John's hands were gentle, rubbing circles on the back of Rodney's palm where they were joined together. "Love you."

"Want you," Rodney whispered, shifting back against John.

His lover huffed into Rodney's neck. "I couldn't get it up again this morning if you paid me. But yeah, I know."

"Was…amazing," he continued, the ability to form full sentences longer than two words still outside the realm of his current level of abilities.

"Mmmm. Yeah. You were amazing. God, you're so beautiful when you let go like that."

"Never…never that intense…before."

"Well, I had to make sure your poor ass didn't feel in any way neglected anymore."

"Mmm…feels really good." He wiggled the part in question, pressing back against John and managing to pull a moan from his own throat. He was really sore but it felt so good.

John gave another warm puff of amusement. "Good. Want you thinking about it, about me, all day."

"Will be."

John untangled their hands and slid one back, caressing Rodney's ass. "It's pretty. All pink, with my marks contrasting against the skin."

Rodney rolled on his stomach, letting John explore, his quiet moans accompanying each pass of his hand.

John shifted pressing kisses. From the faint tingle as each spot was pressed, Rodney knew he was finding and loving every bruise.

When his tongue touched the outside of his entrance, Rodney jerked a little, the area a whole lot more sensitive and sore than he'd thought.

"Hurts?" John breathed against him, resting one cheek against Rodney, his stubble rough against the sensitive skin.

"Yeah," Rodney breathed.

"Bad?"

Rodney shrugged. He didn't think anything was ripped or torn. John had just opened him wider than he'd ever been before.

"I have some cream in the bathroom. After we shower, I'll put it on for you."

"'kay." Rodney just wanted to stay in bed, like this—bound and pliant and submissive—for John.

John ran his hands up Rodney's back, massaging a little.

Rodney purred. This was still amazing and so intimate.

"Could spend all day doing this, just touching you."

"Please?"

"I wish I could. If I don't show up, though, Kate will push back my treatment. I really want to be back on full, active duty again. But we can play all day. So you only have to come up far enough to be able to function, and you can work in your office where it's quieter unless I call for you."

Rodney nodded. He wasn't happy, but if John wanted it…

John's hands continued to rub and caress all the way up and down Rodney's back. "If you don't have anything pressing, we can take a half-day off. My appointment is this morning, and I can do my paperwork right after. Then we can come back here, have some lunch, and I can touch you to my heart's content for the rest of the day. Would that work with your schedule?"

"I…" Rodney tried to remember his schedule, but his mind wasn't connecting. "I don't know. Calendar?"

"We can check after we shower." John shifted again, and suddenly the blindfold was pulled away. "We're both sticky and sweaty, so it will feel good anyway."

Rodney opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the light—dim light—in the room. After having the blindfold on for so long everything seemed much brighter than normal. John was smiling down at him, his eyes soft.

"Hi."

Offering a warm, shy smile, Rodney whispered, "Hi."

Using the back of his hand, John brushed against Rodney's cheek. His expression was full of emotions the other man would find hard to put into words.

Rodney closed his eyes, leaning into John's touch.

"Come shower with me."

Nodding, Rodney shifted, pushing himself upright. When he put any real pressure on his ass, it hurt—more than he realized. He must have hissed or groaned or something, because John was next to him a heartbeat later.

"How bad is it?"

"Um…hurts more than I expected, but in a good way if that makes any sense." Rodney glanced up sheepishly at John.

"So sore, and a little painful, but it reminds you of what we did last night?"

Rodney smiled, feeling his cheeks warm. "Yeah."

A slow smile curled John's lips. "We'll take it easy today then, and I'll put the cream on after we're clean. I won't fuck you again today because I won't hurt you, but we can find other ways to play that will be just as satisfying."

"But I—"

John's finger touched his lips, stilling them.

"Your body is mine, remember? I don't want to damage it, only make it feel very good."

Rodney nodded and John drew his finger away, moving in to lightly kiss him.

"Come on. I bet the warm water and soap will feel good, too."

"You feel good," he whispered, letting John lead him into the master bath.

John threw another of those soft smiles back at him. "So do you."

Rodney didn't reply. He didn't need to. John's hands were gentle as he settled Rodney's hip against the sink cabinet, unlocking each of the padlocks and setting them aside before his hands carefully unwrapped the thick leather, laying feather-light kisses on the warmed skin. John bent on one knee to do the same to Rodney's ankles before finally returning to the last piece on his neck. With a quiet click, the collar was unlocked and released, John's hand and lips ghosting over the skin. The air was cool, making Rodney shiver.

Off to the side, the shower kicked on, immediately starting to fill the room with steam. "I'll put your jeweled versions back on before we head out for the day."

"Even the nipple rings?"

"Yes."

Rodney paused, wetting his lips. "Can you…can you leave these in?" The heavier ones stood out more than the jewelry ones, but today Rodney didn't care.

One of John's eyebrows went up, and he reached out, fondling one nipple. "You don't care if someone notices?"

"And the ankle cuffs."

"The leather ones?"

Rodney nodded. "Can you put them back on…after?"

"Want to feel owned today?" John's smile was gentle. "If I could put the leash on you and keep you close all day I would."

"Keep me like last night," Rodney whispered, feeling his arousal growing again.

"Mmm hmm. Plugged and very obviously mine." John's hand drifted from Rodney's chest down to his spent cock, which got its own caress.

Rodney moaned—wanton and open. "Please…as much…as much as you can put on me, please."

John hummed. "I can do that. But first—shower. I can't accessorize you until I clean you up and take care of your sore ass."

"Yes, John," he whispered, offering a smile and his upturned wrists to his lover.

John kissed the inside of each one before taking Rodney's hands in his, tugging him into the shower stall. He pressed Rodney back up against the wall, hands above his head. "Front first. Don't move."

Rodney drifted, eyes half open as John carefully cleaned him, the washcloth and the stroking awakening his body again, Today, it seemed, everything turned him on.

His lover pressed a kiss to the tip of his dick before encouraging him to turn around and rest his head against his forearms, legs spread a little so John could very carefully clean him.

And John was careful, very careful of his ass even as he checked for damage. It hurt, but Rodney held himself still. Moving would make it worse.

"You're pretty red, but it doesn't look like I tore anything. I was careful, but you were stretched more than we've ever done before. Sitting is going to be difficult for a few days probably. But that's okay. I prefer you stretched out for my pleasure anyway." John kissed each now-clean cheek.

"Hmm…love your pleasure."

"It's very...pleasurable." Rodney could feel the grin John was pressing into his skin.

"Good," Rodney hummed, relaxing against the wall, his body moving toward the pliant stage again.

John's hands ran up his sides, touch just for the sake of touching. "Want to get you to purr for me again."

"Won't…won't take much," Rodney said, his words already sliding in that direction even as his mind shifted down again.

"I see that. Mmmm, it's really hot, that you can sink so far, so fast now. I love that I'm the one who gets to do it to you."

"Only you." Rodney's eyes slid closed as John's hands caressed his sides, his hips. And then Rodney relaxed again, purring quietly when John pressed a kiss to the base of his spine.

"There it is." John's voice was soft, more to himself than anything else.

As his lover's hands climbed higher, Rodney purred at his touch, the sound loudening when John plastered himself along his back.

John nibbled at Rodney's neck, making a soft purr of his own. "Need to get myself cleaned up too."

"Want help?" Rodney asked a few moments later.

"Always, if you're offering." John turned him around, pressing a quick, soft kiss to Rodney's lips. "Love your hands all over my body."

Rodney smiled softly, taking the washcloth from his lover's hands. And with a careful precision, began washing John, pressing kisses to the clean skin as he went. He was thorough and by the time he was done, lost in headspace.

John's eyes were closed, a content smile on his face as he leaned against the wall, obviously enjoying Rodney's attentions.

As he finished cleaning the space between John's toes, Rodney hummed quietly, leaning his head against his lover's thigh and closing his eyes.

A hand wound its way into Rodney's hair, the water shutting off at the same time. Neither of them seemed inclined to move immediately beyond John's soft petting.

And that was perfectly fine with him. He wished these kinds of moments could last longer.

Finally John exhaled softly. "We need to get you off the floor before your knees give out, and get us both dressed before Kate comes to storm the castle looking for me."

"Hmm."

Pushing off from the wall, John reached down to help Rodney up. "Come on. I get to decorate you now."

Rodney opened his eyes and let John tug him to his feet and out of the shower enclosure. He was dried off very carefully before being led back to the bed, John lowering him to the surface, easing him down onto his back.

His lover produced a tube of cream he had grabbed on the way into the bedroom. Pushing Rodney's knees up to expose his ass, John started to carefully work the cool gel into the abused flesh.

It hurt at first, but John's fingers were gentle and after a moment, Rodney let his body relax, allowing John to work.

It didn't take away all the pain, but there must have been some numbing properties in it because by the time John had finished, it was more of a dull throb than actual pain.

John lowered his legs back down to the bed and Rodney rolled his head to the side, looking at John, offering a smile.

"Better?" John returned the smile.

"Hmm," he nodded.

"Good." Going over to their stash of toys, John started to lay out what he was going to put on Rodney for the day. The leather ankle cuffs and jeweled wrist cuffs, the matching jeweled collar, the Ancient cock ring, and a chain that would run between Rodney's nipple rings, still in, to the cock ring. "Any other requests? I won't use a plug because I want to give you some time to heal."

Rodney shrugged. "Anything you want, John."

His dom put everything on Rodney's body carefully, then stood back to admire. "Mmm, very pretty."

"Have everything?" Rodney was hovering, trying not to slide back down into headspace, but it was hard. Muscle memory or something. Or maybe just avoidance. But right now, it was preferred.

"Maybe. I'm thinking."

"Hmm…I like when you think."

John grinned a little. "Smart is sexy."

Rodney simply watched John, enjoying this quiet time.

"There's so much more I want to do to you, but the risk of discovery is a little too high if I do." John moved closer, sitting next to Rodney on the bed, one hand carding through his chest hair.

"Such as?"

"Running a chain from the collar to the nipple rings, so you really can't move without feeling it. The leash, on you all day, so you're never more than a foot away from me. Maybe a gag, all day, except when I wanted those perfect lips wrapped around my dick."

Rodney shifted on the bed, humming appreciatively. "Really?"

"Mmm hmmm. I'd keep you close and keep in headspace all day. Under my desk while I worked, sucking on me. You wouldn't be allowed to make me come, just keep me hard and pleasantly aching all day."

"Can't you work here?"

"You like that idea, don't you? Being leashed and on your knees for me. Allowed to just hold me in your mouth, suck a little, being absently petted and touched while I work."

Rodney nodded, feeling his cheeks flush. He could picture himself on his knees, naked and bound at John's feet, the chains restricting his movements, the leash holding him in place as he sucked on John, pleasuring him, loving him. He shifted again on the bed, feeling his body responding to his thoughts.

John trailed a finger over Rodney's cheeks, smiling. "Mmm, I like that thought, too. Tell you what—I have to meet with Kate soon. While I do that, I want you to go to the labs and make sure your day is clear, that taking some time off won't put you too far behind. If it is, meet me back here in two hours. I'll bring my paperwork to do in the office, and we'll do it exactly like I described. You can spend the rest of the day in headspace from that point on."

"Ah…" Rodney said, his mind shattering a little at the thought. Calendar. He needed to look at his calendar.

Kissing Rodney lightly, John sat up. "I'll get us dressed."

"Laptop," Rodney said, rolling to the side so he wouldn't put a lot of pressure on his ass when he sat up a little. "Where's my laptop?"

John just chuckled. "I'll grab it for you."

It only took a minute for John to retrieve it for him, but it was nearly a lifetime. Sitting up on his knees so he wouldn't have to let his ass touch the bed, he made 'gimmie-gimmie' hands at John, who only laughed. It took him a few minutes to bring up his calendar. His fingers and brain were not working well together as his mind continued to spin with John's suggestion.

John got dressed somewhere in there, so when he crawled up behind Rodney and wrapped his arms around him, there was the delicious slide of fabric against skin. "What's it look like? Do I get to keep you as my pleasure slave while I work today?"

"I…" Rodney shrugged. He'd seen a mission in two days, meetings tomorrow, a briefing tomorrow morning. He was still working on today.

John's hands settled against Rodney's stomach, playing with the chain.

Today looked open, if his brain was tracking things right.

"What's the verdict?" John whispered it in Rodney's ear, blowing softly between words.

"Ah…" Rodney said, shivering a little. "I think we're good."

"What absolutely needs to be done today?"

"I…um…" Work. What was he working on?

John licked, his tongue delving into Rodney's ear a few times.

Rodney moaned, leaning back against John as his eyes slid closed.

His lover chuckled, a deep, sexy sound. "Let's get you dressed and ready to go. I have to meet Kate soon—remember, two hours, back here."

"I…yes, please, John."

Slender, capable fingers wrapped around Rodney's jaw, turning his face for another kiss. "Before you come back here, stop by the mess and stock up on enough food to feed us both for the rest of the day. Our pantry stash is getting a little bare."

"Mmm…yes. Food. I need to eat breakfast."

"Yes. Unfortunately, we don't have time for me to feed you much. I laid out some clothes for you. Get dressed while I see what we have."

Rodney nodded, letting John slip from the bed. It took him a few moments to tug himself up once again, for him to move off the bed and pull on his clothes. Sitting down to put on his boots was…difficult—as was any strange bending. If he took it easy, he'd be fine.

Bringing his laptop with him, he moved out to meet John in the kitchen, his lover's eyes tracking over his body. The nipple rings were visible if you looked and so was the chain. But if he kept his jacket zipped, he should be fine.

The cock ring gave a few short bursts then was still again. "Do you have any idea how hot it is knowing what you have on under there?"

Rodney moaned a little, stopping mid-step. He took a breath before he moved closer. "I think it's okay, don't think you can tell."

"Not unless you're looking, and know what you're looking for." John's eyes had gone dark with arousal. "I can't wait to get you back here and watch you strip it off. Watching as each layer disappears, and more of that sexy body is revealed, with my claim all over it."

"And then you can add more."

Humming, John held up a bit of MRE he had been heating. "This is the best I could do. I'll try to remember to requisition a restock for us."

"Okay," Rodney said, stepping up to wrap his arms around his lover. "This has been…amazing. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you for giving this to me. You're perfect."

"I've never done anything so intense, so…amazing than what you did last night. I never knew I could…that I could feel like that."

John cupped his face, the touch gentle. "I'll make you feel that way again. I promise."

"I…I'd really like that…anytime you want to."

John kissed him softly, then fed him the rest of the breakfast.

By the time breakfast was finished, Rodney was more or less out of his headspace, feeling his thoughts slowly chugging back into place.

John brushed his cheek with the back of his hand. "I'll see you in a few hours. Try to stay relaxed and loose for me. When we get back, I'll help you fall all the way down again."

"If something sidetracks me I'll let you know. I really don't know what to expect in the labs since I haven't been there since…since I don't want to think about it."

"Okay. If you need to stay there, just radio me and I'll work in my office."

Rodney nodded. "I would rather stay here."

"Me, too. But I don't want you to suffer later for us playing today."

"I know," Rodney sighed. "And I do appreciate it. I just…I really want to do this." And there was no need to talk about the fact that it was a good way to escape for a while.

John kissed him again. "Me, too."

Glancing at the time, Rodney sighed again. "I'll try for two hours, but four might be more realistic. Noon."

"Just call me and let me know." John rubbed his stubbled cheek against Rodney's.

"I will," he whispered, closing his eyes and letting himself feel.

"Love you."

"Love you so much."

John sighed. "I really have to go. Kate will be looking for me."

"'kay."

They managed to get out of the apartment a few minutes later, John heading to Kate's while Rodney went to the labs—with a quick stop at the mess for coffee. John hadn't said no.

A few scientists were working in the main lab as he walked through, looking over their shoulders to see what they were working on. Simpson was fine—everything looked on target. A few of the others got quiet adjustments before he moved to his own lab.

It didn't take long for Radek to poke his head in, confusion on his face.

"You are feeling unwell?"

Rodney glanced up from what he was typing. "What?"

"Usually after mission you come in and scream and yell. You are the tyrant of the labs. But today you are quiet. Everything is okay?"

Rodney waved him off, turning back to his laptop. "Nothing's wrong. Shouldn't you be working on the jumpers?"

Radek gave him a long stare. He could feel it. "Fine. But if you need to talk, you will know where to find me."

"There is nothing to talk about unless you're referencing your work on the jumpers. And I'm taking this afternoon off."

"You are..." Radek blinked a few times. "Enjoy your time off then. Tell the Colonel I say hello, and I will see you tomorrow."

"What?" Rodney said, narrowing his eyes. "No. He's not taking off. He has work to do. I'm taking off. And why do you automatically assume that because I want an afternoon not spent riled up because someone else decided to try his hand at destroying the lab after a mission that ended horribly again that he's taking time, too?"

Radek waved his hand. "Fine, fine. I have jumpers to work on. I will see you tomorrow, and will only call you if city is sinking. Enjoy happy relaxation time."

Rolling his eyes, Rodney watched Radek stroll out and realized he needed to let Elizabeth know as well. Might as well get it over with. He tapped his radio. "McKay to Weir."

After a few beats, his radio flared to live. "This is Elizabeth. Is there a problem Rodney?"

He sighed. "Why is it that everyone assumes there's a problem when I call?"

"Because you're usually too busy to call if it isn't." He could hear the amusement in her voice. "So if it's not a problem, what can I do for you?"

"I've decided that since I'm not in the middle of anything horribly time sensitive and the Wraith have decided to leave us alone and I just had a horrible mission yesterday and I'm sure yet another one two days from now, I'm taking the afternoon off. I'm civilian. I have every right to not work 24/7."

There was a startled pause. "I happen to agree with you. I've been wishing there was a way to convince you to take a little more time off for yourself for a while now, but I know it's hard for you to find the time. If today is good, then go and enjoy yourself."

"Good," he said, nodding to himself. "I'll be off-radio at noon until tomorrow morning."

"Wonderful. Have a great day then, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Thank you. And I don't want to be contacted for anything less than the city sinking or about to be destroyed."

"I'll make sure of it. Don't worry Rodney. Of all of us, you deserve a little time to yourself. Take it, and enjoy yourself."

"Well, yes, of course, I do. I work hard."

Elizabeth laughed softly. "Yes, you do. And unfortunately, I don't have the day off, so I need to get back to work. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Uh…thank you. McKay out."

He tapped his radio off and got back to work. He didn't want to sit because he knew his ass was sore, but every time he shifted on his feet the chain would move with him, reminding him of what was to come later that day.

He managed to wrap up everything by 1130—including his mission report for the mud puddle planet and his pre-briefing report for the next mission. He headed to the mess and grabbed an array of food for the rest of the day. He didn't know what John wanted, but he wanted to make sure they didn't have to come back here tonight.

Once he was back in the apartment, he put the food away before moving into the bedroom and stripping down to his skin. Some of the tension immediately fell from his body along with the uniform. Lately, it had been heavy, very heavy. The responsibility, the screwed up missions, everything. Today would be nice, really nice.

His radio ended up on the hall table—on the charger. He left it on, just in case.

John had left everything out from last night, so Rodney quickly got to work, washing everything and putting it away before he turned to the rest of the apartment, straightening up. He didn't like that John made it his job to do this, but there was also something about it that helped to turn his brain off a little. It was mindless, the cleaning and straightening.

Once he was certain everything was put away, he tugged out everything John had mentioned in the morning, along with additional padlocks to secure his arms and legs together once he was in place. With a nod to himself, he put the earplugs in place before settling down on his knees in front of their bed. He'd let John put on the cuffs and such. He didn't want to presume too much. The blindfold went on next and then he put his hands behind him, holding them in the small of his back as he waited for John.

It was a little while, but not too long, before a hand ghosted into his hair, touching the earplug. John pulled one out, but his voice was soft. "Hi, there."

"Hey," Rodney breathed, offering a smile.

John tugged one of Rodney's hands up, placing it against his groin. "Seeing you like this, can you feel what you do to me? How wild you drive me?"

"Mmm," Rodney hummed, rubbing his hand against the erection that was pushing at the fabric of John's BDUs.

His lover moaned a little, fingers clenching in Rodney's hair. "Not too much. I want that pleasant ache of need for you all day. You're going to hold me in your mouth—you're allowed to suck a little, lick a little, but just enough to keep me hard, not enough to push me over the edge."

"Feels good."

"Mmm, yes... very good." John's voice had gone a little breathless as Rodney massaged. He finally pulled the hand away. "But first, let's get your cuffs changed out. I saw you grabbed the food—thanks. And you cleaned, too." His lover caressed the side of Rodney's face.

Rodney leaned into John's touch. "My job."

He got another caress. "It is, but I still want to tell you I appreciate it, notice it. Now, why don't we get you ready? I do have some paperwork and my laptop that I dumped in the office on my way in. Are you hungry at all?"

Rodney nodded. "Little. Wanted to wait for you."

"Okay. I'll feed you before I get involved in working again then." John's thumb brushed over Rodney's lips.

Opening his mouth, Rodney let his thumb slide in, sucking on the tip as he felt a piece of him slide away. Yes. This would be perfect.

John let him suck for a minute before gently drawing away. He quickly put on everything Rodney had laid out, the leash snapping on last. "I'll put the other earplug back in once we get settled. But it will be easier to get you moved if you can hear me, and this way I don't have to take off the blindfold."

Rodney nodded. "Yes, John." His lover helped him to his feet but then tugged him forward using the leash. Every step jostled the chains John had put on, the one connecting the collar to the nipple rings. And it seemed like there was one more as well, that went from the collar to the cock ring—an extra line of chain, an extra bond.

He wasn't brought far, to the office he guessed. John pushed him to his knees, onto a pillow his lover must have brought. Rodney's hands were secured behind his back, his ankles locked together, and from the sound of John's movements, as well as the restriction of his movements, Rodney was now secured to the desk. A moment later, Rodney was guided to slide under—he wouldn't be able to sit all the way up—and then between John's legs.

Rodney moaned a little, thinking of what they were doing, about the day in headspace. He could imagine someone walking in to talk to John with him under the desk and it pushed a thrill through his body.

He was guided so his head was resting on John's thigh. A piece of fruit was pressed against his lips.

Opening his mouth immediately, Rodney let John slide it in, chewing slowly as he breathed through his nose. This was nice, really nice. He rubbed his cheek against John's fabric-covered thigh before shifting a little closer, trying to get his nose into his groin. John shifted his feet, however, pushing Rodney's legs a little further apart. The tip of his boot moved against Rodney's cock, pressing slightly. He moaned and stopped moving.

"You'll get what you want, but not until I'm ready. First you're going to eat."

"Yes, sir," he whispered, letting John give him another bite.

John fed him several more bites, mostly fruits and a little of the cheese Rodney had brought back with him. Then his lover shifted them a little, getting himself comfortable and pushing Rodney further under the desk. He spread his legs wide and when Rodney was allowed to nose forward this time, he encountered flesh.

The smell was incredible. It was John, all John and it enveloped him. He pressed in, smelling and nuzzling John's cock and groin, humming in pleasure.

His lover ran a hand through his hair, the cock ring picking up a steady buzz. "The earplug is going back in after a few minutes, once I get us both settled. I'll be working—remember, you can taste, but if you push too far, you'll feel my boot against your own groin."

"Yes, sir," he whispered, breath ghosting across John's cock. He moaned, pressing in closer, the bonds only giving him so much range. John must have tightened the leash down.

"Hmm. As much as I love your noises, if I do need to take an appointment, it will give the game away." Rodney heard him open a drawer, and a moment later something was snapped into place around his neck, above the collar he already wore. "This is the anti-sound collar. If someone comes in, I'll turn it on. So you don't have to worry about it. Just let go and enjoy yourself."

Rodney moaned again, his mind immediately flashing to a 'what if' situation. Rodney would be moaning and sucking John as he talked to someone on the other side of the desk. Oh wow…so hot.

John chuckled. "I thought you might enjoy that. So don't worry. All you have to do today is stay there and relax and feel good. I'll take care of everything else." Rodney got another caress, and then the earplug was pressed back into place.

John's hands on his face were gentle as he put the earplug back in, reducing Rodney's world to John and only John. He began teasing John's erection, licking along the side, pressing kisses to skin. This was all his.

His lover shifted a little, and from the angle of his body, Rodney could tell he had probably gone back to work. Every now and then he reached down, petting, touching, keeping them connected.

Rodney had never had the opportunity to really worship John like this, to please him, pleasure him. There was something so simple and calming and fulfilling about doing this. After making sure his cock was covered with kisses and breaths of air and nuzzles, he finally took John into his mouth. It was pure pleasure. He moaned around his lover, sucking lightly—he remembered John's orders.

From the way John's thighs tensed under his head, and the fingers that curled against Rodney's shoulder, he knew the other man liked what he was doing. As long as he didn't take it too far, John would let him do this as much as he wanted.

Rodney concentrated on the taste of his lover, the feel of him in his mouth, heavy on his tongue. He let himself drift—sometimes simply holding John in his mouth, other times sucking him. This was perfect.

At one point, he could feel the vibrations of John talking and realized his lover was either on the radio or talking to someone in the office. Oh god. How hot would that be to be sucking John off while he had a meeting? He moaned in pleasure, his lover's fingers digging into his shoulder a little.

John's thumb rubbed a little, massaging, then was gone again as he continued to work, just letting Rodney have this.

And Rodney lost himself in John, in the pleasure that he had.

***