msgordo2

Love's Tangled Web 8a

Wed, 17 Jan 2007 01:41:31 GMT

Holy crap! I’ve just logged back on after broadband going down for a couple of days and – holy crap. Just for those of you that aren’t aware – I live on an island off the coast of Scotland and we’ve been battered by some pretty severe storms this past week, culminating in some problems with electricity, telephone lines and broadband after I last posted. The storms are expected to pick up again tomorrow, the worst day is expected to be Friday, and we’re not sure if the blackouts and such will be back. I’m trying to keep up with comments and such, but – seriously, holy crap, thank you so, so much to all of you that have posted responses. It’s half past one in the morning here and I was determined to at least get the second part of 8 posted before I went to bed tonight, having been assured that the line would be restored at some point this evening. I don’t actually want to go to bed without reading them, but I’m knackered and I have to get up for work in about six hours, so – really, you guys are wonderful. I’m really looking forward to reading all your comments, thanks so much.

~*~*~*

Rodney was disgusted with himself. The moment John had held out the ID card for Colorado Springs University and explained what it was, he’d known he was sunk. The money, clothes and car had been easy for him to hold out against – he’d had years of practice with his father, after all. However, trying to refuse something that was so incredibly dear to him, and something that he was beginning to believe he would ever have again, had successfully torpedoed Rodney’s determined resistance better than any nuke. When he had stood facing John in the bedroom, the physical embodiment of the only thing he had ever really wanted for himself dangling so carelessly from those long fingers, he had been so eager to snatch at it and run that he’d had to literally force his feet to stay glued to the carpet and not offer anything and everything the man might want in exchange for that small piece of laminated paper.

For John it was just another bargaining chip – for Rodney it was temptation itself, and he’d hated John Sheppard more in that moment than in all the time he’d known him.

He’d stood for a long time when John had disappeared into the bathroom, clutching TFC to him and staring with yearning, hopeless eyes at the two objects on the sofa, knowing that if he touched them then John would have won an important victory in their little war. Unlike Terence McKay, who had never really learned the one all important lesson when trying to manipulate Rodney, John had grasped that material objects meant little to Rodney with unfortunate swiftness and then adapted what he had learned to aid him in his quest for victory with even more unfortunate speed. In the end only the sound of the shower shutting off had shaken Rodney out of his daze and with a hunted look at the bathroom door he had darted forward, hesitating only briefly before one hand whipped out and snatched up the key and card from the couch and he turned and bolted from the room with TFC meowing in protest at the jostling and bouncing thanks to Rodney’s awkward one handed grip and the uncharacteristic turn of speed.

Neither man mentioned the university again that evening, and if John knew that Rodney had lain awake the entire night wrestling with himself and trying to fight against the temptation of returning to his work and accepting that it wouldn’t be possible without his tormentor’s intervention then he gave no sign of it. Ronon and John left as usual the following morning bright and early, leaving Rodney heavy hearted and eyed behind them in the kitchen and staring down at the cell phone that had appeared once more out of nowhere beside his breakfast plate. He had sat for nearly an hour staring at the phone and it was only when the clock on the wall ticked inexorably past nine o’clock and he realized that he had less than two hours left to make a decision that Rodney moved. Slowly, very slowly, he reached out to touch the phone and then, with a deep shuddering breath, scooped it up and stood to stride quickly out of the room and head for a shower.

Once at the university time passed all too soon. Mindful of the fact that everyone else in the world believed he was half of the love match of the century, Rodney was forced to endure a good half an hour of fawning by the Dean and nod along as the man and pretty much his entire department sang John’s praises and Rodney’s fortune in having a partner who was so attuned to his needs and was so obviously desirous of his happiness.

Finally - finally - he was left alone in the lab, bar one lone technician, and he quickly dismissed the nervous looking young man with assurances he would only be familiarizing himself with equipment that day and not actually setting up experiments and then set about the business of having a very private, very contained breakdown. Although the set-up was very different of the lab was different from what he was used to and the university itself bore absolutely no resemblance to the school Rodney had attended, the feeling of homesickness and longing for his previous life sent him, quite literally, to his knees. He ended up huddled by the long bench that dominated the centre of the room, bent over his laptop satchel and biting back wretched sobs that seemed to come from the very depths of his being. Eventually he calmed, looking dazedly around the lab and fingers flexing and releasing on the battered leather of his satchel as he tried to gather himself to actually move. Climbing slowly to his feet, Rodney began to take stock of his surroundings. When the lab technician came back at the end of his allotted time, it was to find Rodney just walking around the room, letting his fingers drift aimlessly over the surfaces and equipment with an expression of near total peace on his face.

The feeling of calm inside him lasted Rodney through his visit to the library as well. Told that he had an access all areas pass and the IT lab was his to visit as and when he chose, Rodney found himself nodding with unprecedented patience through yet another fawning speech and then he spent the rest of the day sitting in a quiet research booth, unread scientific texts spread out on the table before him, caressing the worn pages with reverent fingers.

In the end, only the sound of the quiet buzz of the vibration mode on his phone alerted him to how much time had passed and it was with a sense of alarm that he saw it was nearly six in the evening and that it was Sheppard calling him. His sense of calm deserted him and he snatched up the phone, pressing it to his ear. “Yes?”

//Hey, McKay, having fun?//

Rodney sat bolt upright in his chair, eyes darting feverishly around the still busy library and worriedly searching for either John or Ronon irate at his continued presence at the university and not back at the ranch. “I…fun isn’t really the term I’d use. I…I didn’t realize the time.”

Far from sounding angry, John’s voice floated down the line with an amused chuckle. //Yeah, kinda figured that. You okay? You remembered to eat, right?//

Rodney blinked. “I…yes, of course.” He frowned uneasily. He was almost positive there had been some kind of cheese sandwich involved in the day at some point. His uneasy frown deepened – actually, now he thought about it, he did feel a bit…spacey. Maybe he’d only thought about getting something to eat and he’d been so caught up with exploring his new surroundings that he’d actually overlooked the crucial eating part of the sandwich equation. He hurriedly opened the front pocket on his satchel and pulled out one of his emergency power bars that he habitually carried around with him and that fortunately had a use by date on that was good for years to come. He tore open the wrapper, shoved the bar in his mouth and bit down. “M’fine. Had loads to eat.”

//Yeah.// Not sounding convinced, John replied, //You want me to send Ronon for you? He can drop you back out to your car in the morning.//

Rodney almost choked on his mouthful, blurting, “You’re letting me come back? Really?”

//Jesus, McKay, yes I’m letting you come back!// Now using the irritated tone that Rodney was much more familiar with, John hissed, //I said that they wanted you for their doctorate program, remember? You’re in. The school is your oyster!//

Blinking rapidly, Rodney managed to choke down the half-chewed power bar and muttered sullenly, “I didn’t think you were serious. I thought you…I thought it was another one of your games.”

Frigid silence wafted down the wire and it was a few moments before John said, //Dinner’s in an hour, I expect you to be here. TFC’s hiding somewhere and I’d prefer it if you could get here and find him before he tries to kill me. Again.//

Guilt stabbed at Rodney. Oh the poor cat, he’d been so caught up in getting back to his familiar academic world that he’d forgotten all about him. “Okay, okay. I’m on my way!” He went to stab the disconnect button and then hesitated before bringing the phone back to his ear. “Sheppard?”

//Yes, Rodney?// John’s voice was filled with impatience. //What?//

“I….” Rodney swallowed. “Really? I can come back?”

Silence stretched again, but this time when John answered his voice was roughened and sounded almost weary. //Yeah, Rodney, you really can. See you in an hour, okay?//

Rodney stared at the phone when it disconnected and then gave himself a shake and began to straighten out his table, savouring the warm glow of excitement in his belly. He could come back.

~*~*~*

Unfortunately the golden glow didn’t get to last as long as the feeling of zenlike calmness he had experienced for most of the day. Rodney, munching hastily on another power bar on his way to where he’d left the black jeep John had provided him with, nearly choked again when a horribly familiar voice – belonging to pretty much the last person he expected to find in Colorado Springs – hailed him from a nearby non-descript saloon car. “Rodney.”

The whole of his body frozen except his feet, Rodney turned slowly and watched with an expression of complete disbelief when Terence McKay stepped out of his car and into the darkening evening light. He swallowed with difficulty the food that had suddenly turned to ashes in his mouth and the rest of the power bar dropped unheeded from his suddenly nerveless fingers. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Looking about as happy to see Rodney as his son was to see him, Terence walked across the space between them when it became clear Rodney had no intention of doing so and looked him over with his usual expression of cold disapproval. “You look well. Life with Sheppard apparently agrees with you.”

Rodney gaped. “What?” He stared incredulously at his father, aware the tensions of the past few weeks hadn’t exactly made him glow with ruddy good health and his face was almost permanently worn and strained. “Are you blind? I’m being held against my will by a psychopath who wants to, quite literally, screw his vengeance against you out of me. All you have to say is that I well?”

Terence’s mouth pinched and he looked around the deserted car park, his whole body radiating disdain for Rodney and his surroundings in his immaculate overcoat and made to measure suit. “Lower your voice, do you want everyone to know what you have become?” His mouth pursed even more and he said stiffly, “Join me in my car. I want to talk to you.”

“Oh really?” Rodney hitched his satchel higher on his shoulder and shot Terence his own cold look. “Well, unfortunately, I’m going to have to decline your kind invitation, Father. You see my husband has called and sadly I’m expected back at the old homestead to work off more of that pesky vengeance thing I just mentioned. You know how it is – places to go, clinically insane sadists to sexually appease. Busy, busy, busy!”

Terence’s eyebrows snapped together in fury when Rodney spun on his heel and stalked away, shaking with anger. “Rodney! Come back here!”

Rodney snorted and ferreted the car keys out of his jeans pocket. “Kiss my bought and paid for ass, Terence!” His high at his scathing dismissal of his father lasted approximately another three seconds before he found himself yelping with shock and being slammed up against the side of the jeep, his laptop falling to the ground with a horribly loud cracking sound. “What the….” He yelled out when he was spun in place and slammed against the car and he found himself staring up into an unfamiliar pock marked face. “Who…who are you? What are you doing?”

“Kolya.” Terence strode up, unmoved by his son’s predicament and obvious fear. “Quickly, into the car. We don’t need any witnesses.” He glanced at Rodney’s face and then turned away, saying carelessly, “Carefully as you can. Remember his illness. We don’t want Sheppard noticing anything…untoward.”

“Sheppard? What’s he got to….” Rodney cried out when one of his arms was wrenched up behind his back and he was marched relentlessly after his father. “Wait, what are you…Father, have you gone completely insane? Let me go!” He grunted when his captor slammed him into the side of his father’s car. “Ow!”

“Shut up, McKay.” The unknown man pressed Rodney mercilessly against the cold metal, ignoring his frantic bucking and jerky flailing. “Get in the car.”

“No!” Rodney twisted his head to side and sucked in a breath. “HEL…” His yell for aid was abruptly cut off when a large, stale smelling hand clamped over his mouth and his head was jerked back with his eyes rolling in fear up to the evening sky.

“I said shut up.” The hand pressed tighter against his face when Rodney tried to pant desperately for air and then when he finally began to run out of oxygen he found himself pushed to sprawl against the car again. Before he had a chance to push himself upright and make a break for freedom, the passenger door was yanked open and he found himself bundled inside, his head banging painfully on the frame when he tumbled onto the back seat.

His ears ringing from the knock, Rodney pushed himself up and promptly threw himself at the car door, scrabbling for the handle and freedom. “What the hell are you doing?” He pulled desperately at the handle, grunting with exertion and frustration when it did nothing but come uselessly towards him and the door stubbornly refused to open. “Father, tell that maniac to let me out of this car right now.”

“Rodney. Rodney!” His voice sharp with impatience, Terence watched his son slam his hands in aggravation against the car window and then push back in his seat with a hiss of fear when his assailant climbed into the car and turned from the front seat to regard him with cold black eyes. “This is Acastus Kolya, my head of security.”

Recovering slightly from his shock at seeing his father again and then being manhandled by one of his employees, Rodney glared. “Yes, well, I’d say pleased to meet you, but I’m really not.” He switched his glare to his father. “Let me go immediately!”

Terence’s face hardened into a frighteningly cold mask for a moment before he visibly forced himself back under control. “Rodney, I apologize for alarming you, but given the current…situation…I thought it was best to bring a guarantee that you would give me a few moments of your time.”

Rodney’s eyes widened before he barked an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, what? Our situation? I don’t recall it being part of the ‘situation’,” His fingers crooked lightening fast in the air in mock quote marks. “that you’d be the one bending over and taking it up the ass from Sheppard, Father. In fact I’m pretty sure that I’m here to assure that you don’t get fucked by the man! Literally or figuratively.”

Eyes blazing with fury, Terence looked at the silent man in the front seat. “Out. I’ll call you if I need you.”

His eyes watchful in his marked face, Kolya said mildly, “I should stay. He looks like he might need some more…persuasion before he talks.”

Rodney blanched at the menacing anticipation in the older man’s voice and mercifully kept his mouth shut allowing his father to bark impatiently, “I said out. I can handle my son.” Rodney stared at his father in numb disbelief when he continued, “Keep watch for Sheppard or Dex. He might have been lying when he said Sheppard was waiting for him at the ranch, and the last thing we need is them coming looking for him. God knows it’s taken long enough for Sheppard to let him slip the leash this time.”

Shooting Rodney one last dark look, Kolya nodded. “Yes, sir.” He opened his car door and stepped out, the light just enough outside to allow Rodney to catch a glimpse of a small revolver in a shoulder holster when he adjusted his jacket as he turned and fell into a watchful position outside the car.

Swallowing heavily, Rodney stared at his father. “He carries a gun?” Outrage filled his features. “You sent that lunatic after me with a gun?”

Terence flicked a glance at Kolya outside and then looked back at Rodney with impatient disdain. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rodney. Kolya is armed to protect me. The weapon was never intended for use on you.” He glanced over his son with brief disinterest. “You’re fine and you haven’t been harmed, stop making such a fuss.”

His head now really beginning to throb from the bang it had taken, Rodney pressed his fingers to the side of his skull and pulled them away, obscurely pleased to see a smear of blood on his skin. “He made me bleed!”

Looking mildly concerned, Terence peered at his fingers and said, “Be sure to clean yourself properly before you leave. We can’t afford to have Sheppard notice and ask any awkward questions.”

Rodney opened and shut his mouth in soundless rage, staring at his father with molten fury.

Terence peered past Rodney’s still outstretched hand and at his head. “It’s barely even a scratch. Dampen your hair and wash out the blood and he won’t notice a thing. Now,” He settled himself more comfortably in his seat and arranged the folds of his overcoat over his knees. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here?”

Rodney snatched his hand out of mid-air, hissing, “Unless it’s to beg my total forgiveness and commit seppuku with an incredibly blunt dagger before my very eyes, then I’m really not that interested.” He snorted at the annoyed expression on Terence’s face. “No, I didn’t think so. Let me out of this car!”

“Rodney,” Terence laid a hand on Rodney’s arm, eyes narrowing in irritation when Rodney shook it off. “I’m concerned about you, son. Let me help you.” He smiled tightly when Rodney froze and stared at him uncomprehendingly. “I’m here to help you, Rodney.”

Rodney felt his eyes widen. “What?”

“I’m here to help.” Slightly impatiently, Terence sighed and flicked a glance out of the car window and into the parking lot. “We don’t have a lot of time, so listen to me very closely.”

Holding up a hand, Rodney spluttered, “No, wait, back up a second – back right up to the point that you suddenly decided that you give a damn about me after leaving me to that maniac’s tender mercies these past weeks!” His eyes flashing in bitter derision in his face, Rodney sneered, “Or perhaps this sudden concern for my welfare occurred sometime in the preceding four years where you quite happily forgot my very existence?” He slammed an open hand against the car door blocking his way to freedom, yelling, “Open this goddamned door now.”

“Stop that immediately.” At the end of his patience, Terence clamped a hand on Rodney’s shoulder and forcibly pushed him back in his seat. “I do not have time for your petty hysterics now. For once I need you to focus on something other than yourself and put others first.”

Rodney honestly thought his head was going to explode. “Put others…what the hell do you think I’ve been doing, you stupid old bastard? Do you think I like….”

CRACK!

The sound of a slap echoed around the car like a gunshot and Rodney sagged back against the car door, his hand pressed to his face, staring at his father with shocked eyes. “You hit me!”

Looking like he couldn’t quite believe it himself, Terence stared at his still raised hand and then at his son. “I….” He shook his head, his own shocked expression melting into his more usual cold one. “You were becoming hysterical. I had no choice.”

Rodney took his hand away from his face, the imprint of Terence’s hand livid against the white of his skin. “You hit me.” Sheer disbelief coloured his tone and he stared at his father like he was a stranger. “You actually hit me.” His mouth curled up in an attempt at a sneer. “Well, I guess the plan of not letting Sheppard know you’re in town just got blown out of the water.” He gingerly touched his fingertips to his stinging skin, spitting acerbically, “How do you expect me to explain this?”

Looking alarmed, Terence pulled his overcoat more closely around himself and fell woefully short of the casual indifference he was shooting for. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to distract him.” A disgusted grimace twisted his face. “You certainly seem to be keeping him happy so far if the new car and him paying for your education is any indication.”

Rodney’s face darkened ominously. “Unless you want me to use some of my supposed influence over Sheppard to send him after you, Father, then I suggest you stop right there. You’re on very thin ice already, you really don’t want to push me any further.”

Terence nodded shortly. “Very well.” He looked hard at Rodney, unable to hide the distaste in his eyes. “I’ll get to the point.” He reached down into the foot well and pulled out a black briefcase. Flicking open the case, he pulled out a thin folder and flipped the case closed again, opening the folder and pointing to the piece of paper inside. “Sign this and you can go.”

Rodney glanced down. “What is it?”

Pulling a pen from his inside pocket, Terence untwisted the cap and then held it out to Rodney. “It makes me a trustee of your trust fund, giving me total access to your account and the money.”

For a moment Rodney thought his father had hit him harder than he thought and had actually managed to burst an eardrum. “I sorry, what?” He stared down at the paper incredulously and then back up at his father, still holding out the pen expectantly. “What did you say?”

Irritably, Terence sighed. “Don’t make this difficult, Rodney. Just sign the paper and then you can go. Kolya will let you out and escort you back to your car.”

“Yes, a gold plated inducement if ever I heard one.” Rodney blinked rapidly, trying desperately to work out just what the hell was going on. “What happened to being concerned about me and trying to help me escape Sheppard’s clutches?” His eyes sparked with fury. “How exactly is taking the one piece of financial independence that I have left in the world going to save me?”

“Rodney, stop being so obtuse.” Terence’s thin mouth thinned with anger. “I have almost no access to disposable funds, thanks to your new…partner’s…insane crusade against me. If I am to retain any hope of regaining our holdings and securing the company’s future then I need some collateral and you have said to my face that the money set aside for you hasn’t been touched in anyway since we parted company.” His voice turning hoarse with desperation and displaying more emotion than Rodney could ever remember seeing, Terence said, “I need that money.”

Even though he had always known his father to be an heartless man, and utterly ruthless when it came to protecting his own interests, Rodney still felt a stab of pain at just how insignificant he was in the older man’s eyes compared to losing his business and fortune. Shaken to the core, he rubbed a numb hand over his equally numbed heart. “You’re just here for the money.” His face going utterly blank, Rodney stared sightlessly down at the paper lying between him and his father. “Not me. Just the money.” He laughed hollowly. “My God, I’ve given up my entire life for you and you’re just interested in my money.”

Terence’s jaw clenched. “Stop being so dramatic, Rodney. When you give me the money then I can start to help you. It may take me some time, but eventually I will have built up enough security to make my counter-strike against Sheppard and then I can force him to let you go.” He reached out and placed a hand on Rodney’s arm. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, son? You want me to help you?”

Rodney stared at the hand lying white against the dark of his fleece. “Yes. I want you to help me, Father.” He took a shuddering breath and then shook his arm out from under Terence’s touch. “But unfortunately it looks like I’ll have to keep wanting. I won’t sign the paper. You’ve had a wasted trip.”

Terence’s face twisted with rage. “Rodney, you will sign. You don’t have a choice. I’ve already checked into your accounts as far as I am able, and the entire fund is intact aside from the interest accrued. Now that Sheppard is paying for your education and the roof over your head, you have no need for the interest payments themselves. It may seem an insignificant amount compared to what I am used to dealing with, but every single cent of that money is needed and I will have it.”

Rodney froze for a moment, familiar panic flooding his system at the thought his financial arrangements had been examined and then forced himself to relax when he realized that the safeguards and false electronic trail he had laid out had held up – at least so far. He looked at his father in disgust. “Let me out of this car.”

“Rodney,” Increasingly frustrated and desperate, Terence tried to touch him again. “You have no idea what is at stake here. You have to give me that money.”

Rodney felt the numbness in his heart begin to spread and muttered almost absently, “No, I really don’t.” He looked at his father with a detached expression. “I have to go now. I’m expected somewhere else.”

“Listen to me, you stupid fool.” Abandoning all hope of convincing Rodney that he had even an ounce of sympathy for his situation, Terence ignored Rodney’s withdrawal when he clamped a hand on his arm and pulled him forward. “You have no idea what I am capable of when it comes to safeguarding what I hold dear. One way or another I am taking that money, if you wish to have my aid when I am finally in a position to fight Sheppard again, then your best hope is to give it to me now.” He yanked Rodney even further forward and hissed angrily, “Or I will leave you to rot with Sheppard when I ruin him and I will never think of you again.”

Rodney stayed where he was for a moment, looking searchingly into his father’s eyes and then he slowly smiled. “You know, I think we’re more alike than you have ever given us credit for, Father.” The numbness inside blanketed him comfortingly and Rodney made a decision that was going to change his life. “You have no idea what I’m capable of what something I hold dear is threatened.” He smiled desolately. “And until this moment, neither did I. Get your hands off me and let me out of this car. This conversation is over.”

Terence blinked, startled. “Sign the paper.”

“No.” Rodney shook himself free and sat back, pointedly checking the watch on his wrist, feeling obscurely like he was floating outside his body and somehow observing the scene rather than being a participant. “I’m expected in less than half an hour. Sheppard will be looking for me, I suggest you let me go.”

A long silence stretched before Terence nodded. “Very well.” He rapped sharply against the window and attracted Kolya’s attention, gesturing for the man to go around to Rodney’s side of the car and let him out. “This is not over, Rodney. We will be speaking again.”

Rodney paused with one foot outside the car, still floating in his emotionless bubble. “Oh, we really won’t. Goodbye.” He stood up and pushed past Kolya, walking away without looking back. “Give my regards to mother.”

It wasn’t until he got to his car that Rodney realized that Kolya had followed him. “What?” His cheek still smarting from his father’s slap and his arm feeling hot from Kolya’s rough handling, Rodney looked up at the man vacantly, “I take it the physical intimidation part of the evening isn’t over yet?”

Kolya looked him over silently and then bent to pick Rodney’s forgotten laptop satchel off the ground. Without taking his eyes from Rodney he dropped it to the floor again and, ignoring the sudden shout of protest from Rodney when he realized what was about to happen, stamped heavily down on it – once, twice, three times. He grabbed for Rodney when he made to push him aside and shoved him up against his jeep, whispering with cold menace, “Next time, McKay. See you soon.”

Rodney scrabbled for his satchel, pulling open the flaps with shaking fingers and then positively growling when he pulled his beloved, and totally, ruined laptop into view. His head came up when the headlights from his father’s car swept over him and he stared after the taillights with blazing eyes. “Oh, that is it.” He got to his feet in an undignified scramble, nearly dropping the laptop again and fumbled in his jacket pocket for the phone John had given him. “I am tired of being pushed around, I am tired of people thinking they can play with my life like some kind of SIMS parody and I am sick to death of well-heeled thugs battering me and treating me like some kind of helpless damsel-in-distress.”

He stabbed a series of numbers into the phone, cursed and then hurriedly re-typed, this time remembering to add the international code for Canada. “Radek? Rodney. Tomorrow morning, eleven your time, web-cam. Make sure Teyla’s there.” Not waiting to hear his friend’s frantic questions and yells for reassurance that Rodney was unhurt, he hung up and then, his mind racing and simultaneously refusing to dwell on what he was about to do, Rodney pressed number one on speed dial. “Sheppard? I….” He swallowed heavily and stared in the direction his father and Kolya had disappeared in, shoulders squaring with determination. “I’m afraid I need you to come and get me. I…I’ve been in a bit of an accident and I don’t think I can drive. Yes, I’m fine, but I….can you just come and get me? Please?” He nodded absently at the answer down the phone, eyes still fixed in the middle distance. “Thank you. I’ll be waiting.”

Rodney stood in the darkening car park, phone held loose in his hand and felt the last of his reservations about what he was about to do fall away from him. Sheppard and his father thought they could play hardball when it came to getting what they wanted? Rodney snorted; they hadn’t seen anything yet.

~*~*~*

Love's Tangled Web 8

Sun, 14 Jan 2007 20:38:23 GMT

Okay, I'm going as fast as I can, I swear. This next update has had to be split into two seperate eps because LJ just refuses to accept it at the length I have it. I did want to reply to all the comments before I posted next, but I honestly just haven't had the time, I'm very sorry. I do want to say however that I'm overwhelmed and so gobsmacked at the positive response to the fic. Thank you all so, so much for being so supportive and interested in what is basically me having a bit of a giggle and going 'Yay, punishing kiss time again! Woot!' for two hundred or so pages. I will reply to you all in person, but probably not for a day or so - the rest of tonight is going to be taken up with coding and such like again. Thanks, you guys have totally made my week.

~*~*~*
The next morning started as well as the one before it. Rodney had shot downstairs at the sound of another ‘That fucking cat!’ bellowed from John and had found the other man dodging the hissing animal as it skidded around on the wooden hallway floor and tried to claw his leg. “No! Cat, stop!” Rodney darted forwards and made a grab for the cat, yelping when it turned on him on its maddened state and clawed a thin strip from the back of his outstretched hand. “OW! Stop! No! Bad cat!”

The cat stopped cold at the sound of Rodney’s voice and then with one more hiss at John clumped awkwardly to Rodney’s side and rubbed itself apologetically against his ankles. Rodney held his bleeding hand to his chest and bent to pat it warily on the head, watching John with wide eyes when the other man stood in the middle of the hallway cursing loudly and fluently as he checked his designer pants for damage. Rodney flinched when John glared at him and hurriedly said, “I’m sorry, I thought he was still shut away in his room. It won’t happen again. I’ll keep a better watch on him.”

John’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, pausing when he saw a drop of blood drip from Rodney’s hand onto the floor by the cat’s foreleg and then frowning sharply when he got a good look at Rodney’s mouth, puffy and slightly discoloured. “You’re bleeding.” His face screwed up in disgust when the cat stared at him and then bent its head to sniff curiously at the blood before licking it up. “Christ, that’s disgusting!”

Rodney pressed his hand into his gut, curling his shoulders forward and using his other hand to try and hide what John apparently found so offensive about his injury. “Yes…I’d better go and get it cleaned up. Sorry, I….” He jerked back in reflex when John reached for him. “What? I said I was sorry!”

John eyed him askance and with deliberate slowness reached out once more, keeping the cat at their feet firmly in his sights. The animal hissed warningly, but otherwise made no move to attack even when John gently laid his fingers on Rodney’s uninjured hand and tugged. “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure what you’re apologizing for though, you didn’t ask to be clawed at.” He succeeded in pulling Rodney’s hand free and then reached for the bleeding one, glancing up when Rodney tensed warily and his breath hitched. “Look, I wasn’t saying you bleeding was disgusting. The cat licked up the blood. That’s just plain wrong, okay?”

“Oh.” Rodney continued to stand stock still, his hand pressed to his belly and almost vibrating with the need to move away from John’s touch. “I thought…my condition tends to…that is, people don’t really….”

Scowling, John succeeded in pulling the injured hand away from Rodney’s body, muttering, “And for people, you mean your dad, right? Let me guess; he wasn’t exactly the most sympathetic guy around when you used to hurt yourself.”

Rodney jerked when John ran a careful finger down the edge of the oozing cut. “I’m not very co-coordinated.” He shifted nervously from foot to foot, feeling a light sweat break out along his spine in response to John’s proximity. “Really, it’s fine. I can deal with it.”

John flicked a glance up to his face his eyes lingering on Rodney’s swollen mouth, saying mildly, “Stay put.” He waited until Rodney gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement and then returned his attention to the cut. “You want me to call Carson and have him come out and take a look at you?”

“No!” Rodney back-pedalled before he even realized he’d had the thought, his hand pulled in tight to his belly once more and the cat spitting at John as it wound itself around Rodney’s ankles. “No, I told you, I can deal with it! I don’t want a doctor, they don’t know anything and…and….” He stopped short when he realized that he’d let his mouth go around John yet again and stared panic stricken at the other man. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…no, don’t!”

John glowered when Rodney ducked as he reached out to take his arm, managing at the last second to control his irritation – and narrowly avoid the cat’s claws swiping at him yet again. “Calm down, McKay. Jesus Christ.” He withdrew his hand when the cat hissed and spat and took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to lock that damn thing in somewhere where it can’t get out and then you’re going to come to the kitchen so I can fix up your hand. Ah!” He held up a warning finger when Rodney opened his mouth to try and protest. “Non-negotiable. I won’t call Carson, but I don’t know enough about your condition yet to take any chances so I want to make sure it gets cleaned properly.” He directed a narrow eyed glare at the cat. “Christ knows where that thing’s been and what it’s picked up.”

Rodney opened his mouth, closed it and then looked in alarm down at the cat. “What?” He backed away from the animal hastily. “The vet told me he was free of disease! What do you think is wrong with him? Oh God, I was right, he does have rabies!”

“Rabies?” John watched in bafflement when Rodney skittered backwards and the cat followed him, meowing anxiously when his chosen protector flapped his hands and tried to shoo him away. “McKay. McKay!” He sighed wearily when Rodney looked at him worriedly and shook his head. “I’m sure that cat doesn’t have rabies, alright? The vet wouldn’t have let you take him home otherwise.” He tried a reassuring smile when Rodney continued to look between him and the cat suspiciously. “Cleaning your hand is just a precaution, okay? Trust me.”

Rodney snorted. “Yeah. That’s going to happen.” His eyes shot up to John’s face when he realized what he’d said. “That is…I mean….”

Scowling, John snapped, “Just put the damn cat away and meet me in the kitchen.” He watched as Rodney bent to the cat, picking it up with none of his usual eagerness and then held it at arms length as he gingerly made his way to the stairs. John saw another drip of blood fall to the floor and swallowed. “And hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

~*~*~*

Minutes later, Rodney sidled unhappily into the kitchen, one of John’s very expensive, Egyptian cotton weave hand towels wrapped around his hand. “Look, you don’t have to do this. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I’ve been doing it for years.” Not even giving John a chance to speak, Rodney continued earnestly, “I know you’re a busy man, so you and Ronon should just go to work and….” He stopped. “Um, where is Ronon? Shouldn’t he be here? He’s usually here.”

John took his time finishing up arranging the medical supplies he’d fished out of the first aid box and then gestured to the chair he’d placed next to the kitchen table in readiness for Rodney’s arrival. “Sit.”

Rodney stared at the chair like it might bite him and then looked at the one immediately adjacent to it, obviously meant for John. He swallowed, croaking hoarsely, “Where’s Ronon?”

John straightened up and pointed to the chair. “I said sit.” He watched as Rodney hovered indecisively, growling, “McKay. Sit down.”

Looking like he’d rather face a whole hospital of doctors than John, Rodney twitched and then reluctantly moved to take the chair. He settled himself on the very edge, his towel wrapped hand clutched to his mid-section and stared at the floor, muttering, “Okay. I…I’m ready.”

John frowned down at the bowed head and then, moving with deliberate slowness, took his own seat. “Ronon went into the office early today, I’m driving myself in.” He reached for Rodney’s hand, pausing when the other man tensed and then moving when Rodney forced himself to relax. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Ignoring Rodney’s sucked in breath in preparation for the agony he was apparently resigned to endure, John unwrapped the towel, tossing it carelessly to the floor before inspecting Rodney’s hand again. “The bleedings stopped.”

Rodney edged back a little in the chair, trying to put as much distance between himself and John as he possibly could. “I told you, it’s fine.”

Ignoring the comment and the retreat, John turned to the table and picked up a packaged disinfectant wipe. “This might sting a little. Hold still.” Keeping Rodney’s hand in his, John tore open the package with his teeth and then deftly pulled out the wipe. Gently, and with far more delicacy than he’d so far displayed he was capable off, John swabbed around the cut and then quickly and efficiently cleaned the gash itself. Satisfied that it wasn’t as bad as it had first appeared, John shot a quick smile up at Rodney. “Looks okay.”

Taken aback by the quick flash of a smile and the gentle handling, Rodney stared back at him mutely.

John returned his attention to the cut after a beat. “A little antiseptic cream next.” He picked up the tube, saying casually, “So, this sort of thing used to happen to you a lot as a kid?” He glanced up again as he squeezed out a generous portion of the cream and began to smooth it in. “Getting hurt?”

Rodney sat frozen, unsure where this line of questioning was going.

Returning his attention to the cut, John examined it again. “Must have been tough, growing up with something like this. Probably made things difficult playing with your friends.” He reached for the sterile gauze he had ready. “Your dad sounds like he made things pretty hard for you as well.”

At the mention of his father, Rodney’s hand jumped in John’s grasp before he could stop himself and a peculiar expression of anger and long buried hurt flashed through his eyes.

“Yeah, bet old Terence was pretty tough on you as a kid.” John positioned the gauze just so and flicked a sudden sharp glance up at Rodney. “I don’t think any less of you for being how you are, it’s just one of those things. You can’t help it.”

Finally Rodney was forced into speech. “How very magnanimous of you.” He glared at John, forgetting his new resolution to try and watch his tongue around the other man and not draw undue attention to himself. “And yet, I can’t help but note, it doesn’t seem to stop you using my condition to your advantage to bully me every chance you get knowing that I stand no chance of fighting back to any real physical standard. You’re a true hero.”

John stared at him for a moment before finishing taping down the edges of the gauze and then leaning back in his chair. “You know, McKay, you just keep on surprising me.” He folded his arms over his chest and skimmed his gaze over Rodney’s flushed and nervous face. “Just when I think I have you beaten…I really don’t.” He cocked his head to the side, murmuring thoughtfully, “I wonder what its gonna take?”

Rodney folded his hand protectively once more into his mid-section and bent forward over it, watching John warily. “Are we done?”

A long silence played out before John shook his head, eyes lingering on Rodney’s mouth. “Not so much.” He moved one arm to drum his fingers on the kitchen tabletop. “Take off your shirt.”

Paling abruptly, Rodney shook his head. “No!” He started to jump up and then hurriedly dropped back into his chair when John moved to stop him. “You can’t…I don’t….why?”

Expressionless, John said, “Not for what you’re thinking, trust me. I have a little more finesse than to want our first time be a quick fuck over the kitchen table.” He gestured with his hand. “Take it off or I take it off for you. Your choice.”

Rodney’s eyes darted from side to side looking for escape, fine beads of sweat breaking out along his hairline. His raised his hands twice from his lap, swallowing hard as he tried to grasp the hem of his long sleeved t-shirt and obviously unable to force himself to go through with it each time. He stared pleadingly at John. “Please, I don’t want to do this. Don’t make me.”

Seemingly remaining unmoved, John repeated, “Take it off. Now.” He watched when Rodney desperately searched his face for any sign of mercy and then dropped his gaze to John’s hands, broad and strong and, Rodney knew from bitter experience, more than capable of following through on making him do anything they chose. He shot one last pleading glance at John and then took a deep shuddering breath, finally gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. Slowly, very slowly, the material was raised until it bared Rodney’s stomach and chest and obscured his humiliated face and tightly shut eyes, the bared chest heaved in another deep breath and then the t-shirt was pulled off. John held out a hand, not taking his eyes off Rodney’s face. “Give it to me and stand up.”

Rodney’s eyes popped open. “What?”

Nodding at the t-shirt, John said again. “Give it to me and stand up.” His eyes were unfathomable when he stared levelly at Rodney. “I don’t want you to try and cover yourself.”

Unfortunately for Rodney, his eyes were nowhere near as unfathomable as John’s. Fear, uncertainty and revulsion took turns swimming to the surface and it was only after a long few moments that his expression finally settled into one of scornful hatred. “So I was right. You do get off on pain.” Shaking with rage he balled up the shirt in his hand and threw it at John’s chest before bouncing up off his chair, spreading his arms with false bravado. “Well don’t let me stop you, Sheppard, go nuts. Knock yourself out!”

John’s jaw clenched for a moment before he picked up the t-shirt that had fallen to hang droopily off one thigh and tossed it on the table. “Turn around.”

Shooting him another searing look of hatred, Rodney spun in place like a top. “Happy now?”

“Not so much.” John climbed to his feet, his hand shooting out to grab Rodney’s shoulder when he shied away at the sound of the chair scraping on the floor. “You don’t move.” His grip tightened just slightly when Rodney tried to shrug him off and he ground out, “You. Don’t. Move.” He waited until Rodney stood shaking with rage and nerves, but mostly still and then took his hand away and for the first time looked properly at Rodney’s bared upper body.

Wide shoulders were his first impression. Surprisingly so considering that Rodney seemed equally repelled and baffled at the thought of engaging in an active exercise program like John and Ronon practiced religiously. His torso didn’t taper to a defined waist such as both John and Ronon enjoyed, but a smooth line only slightly blurred by a little excess flesh existed from armpit to hip and John cast an appreciative eye down to where the bared skin disappeared into the top of Rodney’s worn jeans and the flare of his ass under the material. Then he dragged his eyes up and away and focused back on the reason he had forced Rodney to make his partial strip.

He stared silently for long moments, tracing with his eyes the livid marks and discoloration on the otherwise pale skin, a legacy of their confrontation the previous evening and, unless John was completely missing his guess, the pale yellow and green fading bruises from their fight in the study. Although not as bad as he feared, it was bad enough and John found himself swallowing heavily before he could make himself speak. “It looks painful.”

Rodney’s shoulders hunched forward, the tips of his fingers coming into view around the sides of his torso when he wrapped his arms around himself. “You think so? You really are the master of the obvious, aren’t you?” He leapt forward when he felt a light touch against his left shoulder blade and whirled on John, spitting, “Don’t you dare touch me.”

His arm falling back to his side, John nodded. “Fair enough.” He gestured sharply with one hand. “Drop your arms to your sides.” When Rodney hesitated, he snapped impatiently, “Now, McKay!”

Standing bathed in the morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows, Rodney nonetheless shivered like he was standing in the middle of a snowstorm. His eyes fixed on a point somewhere past John’s left ear and his arms slowly fell away from his body, his face a red mask of humiliation and hatred.

Now Rodney was actually facing him, John found it much harder to maintain his outward façade of impassive assessment. Even though he was broader and heavier set than John, Rodney looked defenceless and vulnerable standing before him, his skin twitching wherever visible as he restrained himself from bolting. John made himself take in every detail of every mark on the milky white skin. The fingertip bruises circling Rodney’s wrists, the larger smudges on his chest and waist where he had thrashed so desperately against John the previous evening and then, finally, John made himself look at Rodney’s puffy and swollen mouth, trembling with emotion as he stood bared before him. “This never happens again.”

Rodney jumped at the harsh tone of John’s voice and stared at him uncomprehendingly. “What?”

“This.” John swept a hand through the air, face twisted with repugnance when he gestured at Rodney’s body. “Christ, McKay, you were going to let me beat you.”

His jaw dropping, Rodney looked utterly bewildered, forgetting for a moment his humiliating situation. “I…well…what was I supposed to do? You were threatening my family and friends again, I couldn’t just let them…I couldn’t let you….”

John snatched up the t-shirt, throwing it forcefully at Rodney. “Put it back on.” His fists clenched at his sides when Rodney continued to stare at him in bewilderment and he snapped angrily, “Put it back on, dammit!”

Scrambling to obey, Rodney finally managed to drag the shirt back on and then, for good measure, stretched the sleeves down so they covered his wrists and fists and there wasn’t even the slightest chance that John would catch a glimpse of the offending bruises. He looked cautiously up at the other man, trying to gauge his mood. “Can I go now?”

John pressed his fisted hands against his thighs hard for a moment before giving an abrupt shake of his head. “No. Sit down.” He waited until Rodney warily took his seat again and then re-seated himself. “We should get you to Carson.”

Whatever Rodney was expecting it certainly wasn’t this. “Pardon?”

A muscle in John’s jaw twitched at the incredulous question, but he ground out again, “We should get you to Carson. You need medical attention.”

“I do not!” Rodney stared at John like he’d lost his mind. “I’m perfectly capable of judging for myself when I require the questionable services of the so-called medical profession and I can assure you this is not one of those times.” He took a closer look at John’s wooden expression and frowned. “And what exactly am I meant to say to him? I imagine that you don’t want the sordid details of our true relationship coming to light, especially to one of your friends.”

John looked away for a moment and then turned his eyes resolutely back, saying frigidly, “He’s bound by patient confidentiality. You’ll tell him the truth. He’ll need to know the facts if he’s going to treat you properly.”

Completely wrong-footed, Rodney’s eyes rounded in disbelief. “Is that…are you joking?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” John’s yell echoed through the kitchen and had Rodney jerking back in alarm. “Jesus God, McKay, look at the fucking state of you!”

“And whose fault is that?” Rodney pressed back against his chair as hard as he could, his outrage at John’s bizarre behaviour filling him with momentary bravery. “I told you about my condition and you still persist in behaving like some testosterone filled caveman every chance you get.” His face flushed bright red when he finished on a yell, “This is not my fault, this is all you.”

“I know.” John forced himself to lower his voice, grimly reining his temper in and reminding himself that losing it yet again wasn’t going to help the situation. “I know. And I told you, this won’t happen again.” He stared at Rodney’s chest like he could see straight through the material and the marks below, muttering with faint incredulity, “I can’t believe you were going to let me beat you.”

“Like I have a choice what you do to me.” Rodney’s voice was a barely understandable hiss he was so angry. “You keep telling me you own me, remember? I don’t have any way to stop you!”

“Yeah.” John finally dragged his eyes away from Rodney’s chest. “I know. Which is why this won’t happen again. This….” He waved one hand awkwardly through the air between them. “This isn’t me. I don’t do things like this.”

Rodney’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?” His eyes filled with contempt. “Who exactly are you trying to convince here, Mr. Sheppard? You’re a bully and a thug, and as you’ve managed to tie us both into this appalling distortion of a marriage, you’re also a bona fide domestic abuser.” Shaking once more, but this time with pure fury, Rodney yanked back his sleeves and shoved his arms straight out, displaying his bruises like vile badges of honour. “This is you. This is who you are.”

John looked at the bruises, his throat working silently for a moment before he said hoarsely, “No. It’s not.” He forced himself to meet Rodney’s eyes. “This has gone too far.”

Almost unable to believe what he was hearing, Rodney whispered, “What?” His arms dropped to his lap, hands hanging limply between his thighs as hope blossomed in his chest. “What did you say?”

“I said, this has gone too far.” Finding it difficult to breath, John shot to his feet and paced away from the table. “I’m not like this. I don’t do this.” He spun to face Rodney, yelling, “I’ve never marked a lover in my life! Never had to force anyone! Why the hell won’t you just give in?”

Wide eyed at John’s mercurial shifts in emotion, Rodney questioned faintly, “Would you?”

Brought up short, John stood there with his chest rising and falling rapidly, blank confusion filling his eyes. “What?”

Rodney sat frozen, hardly daring to move in case he triggered another mood change, and licked his lips nervously. “Would you give in? If…if it were you sitting here, would you just…give up?”

John opened his mouth and then closed it, his eyebrows drawing together in bewilderment. “I’m not you. I couldn’t. I’m…not you.”

Nodding, Rodney said with slow caution, “Yes, I think we’ve finally managed to find something to agree upon unequivocally. You aren’t me. By that I’m assuming that you mean that you’re not a) unfortunately related to Terence McKay through no fault of your own or b) not some weak little academic who has never had to raise his fists to someone else in his life and is woefully under prepared to do so now?” His eyes searing John like blue lasers, Rodney said with tart irritation, “I still fail to see how either of those two points should mean I should just meekly surrender to whatever horrendous test of my mettle the fates have decided to throw my way this week.”

Staring at Rodney like he’d never seen him before, John muttered, “You said you weren’t going to fight me anymore.”

“And you said you wouldn’t hurt me or try to force me.” Rodney held up his arms, refusing to let John look away from the intensity of his gaze. “Looks like we’re both liars.” He slowly stood up, his chin firming with resolve and pride. “But somehow I get the feeling that if I let myself go back on my word then your apparent attack of conscience would resolve itself soon enough into your more usual physical intimidation and brutality. So,” He took a deep breath. “In the interests of preserving my own good health and possibly my life I won’t go back on what I said last night. I won’t fight you anymore. I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want.” A flicker passed over his face and Rodney looked a little sheepish. “I probably won’t do it without some kind of, um, protest, but I will do it.”

Now looking nauseous, John’s mouth pinched tightly and he ground out, “That isn’t what I want.”

Feeling obscurely like he had the upper hand but with no clue as to why, Rodney allowed himself a careless shrug. “Oh dear. What a shame. Honestly, I’m all broken up over here.” He raised his hand and tapped one finger thoughtfully against his chin, dramatically sighing in the direction of the ceiling, “Whatever can we do to alleviate our mutual suffering and dislike of this situation?” He snapped his fingers and hissed in a voice laden with sarcasm, “Oh I know! You could let me go!”

For one moment, Rodney really thought he’d broken through to John. The lean face, just for a brief moment, was utterly unguarded and he saw something he thought he’d never believe possible in John Sheppard – compassion. Seizing what he thought to be an advantage, Rodney stepped forward and lowered his voice to a pleading whisper, “Please, let me go. Prove you’re a better man than my father; stop this now and let me walk away. You’ll never see me again, I swear.”

In a split second John’s face fell back into its familiar uncompromising lines. “No.” He saw Rodney’s face collapse in devastation. “No, I won’t do that.” He turned away, unable to continue to watch while Rodney battled for control, saying fiercely, “I won’t let you go, McKay. You can walk away if you want, but I won’t willingly let you go.” He stared blindly at the floor, aware of Rodney’s breath hitching behind him, saying woodenly, “But you know what will happen if you do walk.”

“Yes, damn you!” Rodney closed his eyes in despair – he had been so close. “You know this is wrong, Sheppard, what can you possibly hope to gain from this situation? What do you want?”

Tension in every line of his body, John slowly turned and looked at Rodney with eyes that seemed to have gone from their normal hazel to flaming pools of emotion filled gold. “You. Willingly and completely. I want everything you are, Rodney.”

Rodney stared back, speechless, and then his chin went up in a gesture that John was really beginning to loathe. “Then it seems we’ve reached a stalemate, Sheppard.” His bruised mouth curled in a sneer. “Because that’s the one thing all your money will never, ever buy.”

And with that Rodney turned on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving John alone with nothing but the bright morning sunshine for company.

~*~*~*

It was Ronon who ended up naming the cat. And in typically blunt Ronon fashion it was a name that had to be modified extensively before Jinto could be informed of it. Proving itself to be nothing but determined and obsessively single-minded when it came to its mission to maim and/or kill John, the cat regularly provoked pain-filled yells from the increasingly on edge lord of the manor, most of which seemed to include the words ‘That fucking cat!’ whilst John engaged in trying to fight the damn animal off without actually killing it.

After yet another attack – this time when the cat discovered that with a little effort it could squeeze out of the small powder room window located nearly immediately above the covered porch way at the front of the house and skulk there to drop down on John’s head when he arrived home from work – and when John’s ears and scalp had been treated for some stinging scratches and one painful lump where the cat had caught him on the back of his skull with the cast, Ronon had revealed a wholly unexpected knowledge of Disney films.

“It’s like that movie.” Ronon worked hard to hide his smirk while he watched John wince and curse his way through an application of iodine. “You know, with the cat. And the girl.”

John swore viciously under his breath at the pain of his throbbing skin and glowered at Ronon’s reflection in the mirror he was standing in front of, muttering sourly, “Born Free?” With pitiful hope, he said, “That cat went away eventually, right? Far, far away. And then died.”

Ronon choked back laughter. “Yeah.” He ducked his head, hiding his grin in his beard. “I don’t think we’re gonna get that lucky, Sheppard.”

John finished his self-doctoring gloomily. “Me neither.” He turned away from the mirror and leaned back against the bathroom sink, eyeing Ronon resignedly. “Okay, I’ll bite. What movie?”

Getting control of himself, Ronon looked back up and said with an impressively straight face, “That Disney one. With the blonde chick. She finds a cat and it’s a real pain in the ass so they call it D.C.”

John blinked, completely bewildered. “D.C.?”

“Uh-huh.” Ronon nodded, fighting back another smirk. “Stands for Darn Cat.” He shrugged at John’s incredulous stare. “Hey, it’s a kid’s film, right?”

“How the hell do you figure that my life being under daily threat from a goddamned moggy is anything like a fucking Disney film?” John’s temper, never exactly temperate over recent weeks, began to simmer. “I don’t recall Hayley fucking Mills having to worry about having the skin flayed from her fucking body any time she ran into her fucking cat!”

“Yeah.” Ronon nodded thoughtfully. “So maybe not exactly like the film, then.”

Seething, John pointed a finger at Ronon. “You? Worst bodyguard in the world ever.”

This time Ronon didn’t fight the grin and shrugged again. “Hey, you gottta pick your battles, right?” He winked at John and pushed himself up from where he was leaning casually in the doorway leading from the en suite bathroom to John and Rodney’s shared bedroom. “I keep telling you, I don’t get paid enough to take on the cat.” He turned and then stopped short when he saw Rodney standing unhappily in the middle of the bedroom, cradling the cat in question in his arms. “Oh. Hey, McKay.” He fixed wary eyes on the cat and backed up smartly into the bathroom. “You need something?”

Rodney looked puzzled at Ronon’s decidedly nervous expression and shifted the cat more comfortably in his arms, earning himself a purr of appreciation from the animal and a fond head rub against his chin. “No, I….” An expression drifted over his face that seemed to indicate that he’d smelled something deeply unpleasant, and then Rodney muttered resentfully, “I came to see if Sheppard was alright?” He held the cat aloft when John shoved past Ronon and into the bedroom, saying unnecessarily, “The cat’s fine.”

With scathing derision, John snapped, “Great. That makes me feel so much better.” His mood darkened further when the cat clapped eyes on him and it went from lax-blissed–out-furball to spitting-bristling-killer-cat in under a second. “What the hell is that thing’s problem?”

Ronon peered over his shoulder, observing solemnly, “I don’t think it likes you.”

John’s head swivelled and he glared at his friend. “You think?” The cat’s hissing increased fractionally at the sight of Ronon’s head and John said slightly more cheerfully, “Doesn’t look like it’s that keen on you either.”

Rodney tucked the cat back into his body, scratching soothingly between his ears. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He looked at John’s scratched ears and swallowed, offering weakly, “I’m sure he just panicked when he slipped off the roof. Really, it’s lucky you were there to break his fall.”

Lost for words at that stunning spin on recent events, John and Ronon stared at Rodney in disbelief.

Frowning, Rodney snapped defensively, “What? It was! If he’d have fallen all the way to the floor he might have broken one of his other legs and, well, just imagine where we’d be then!”

Unable to resist, Ronon smirked and warbled horribly off-key, “Boorn free, free as the wiiind blows….”

John shoved his hands in his pants pockets, glowered at the cat and muttered feelingly, “I wish.” He took a quick step forward when Rodney scowled and turned to leave, holding up a hand. “Hold up there, McKay, I want to talk to you for a minute.”

With resentment in every line of his body, but mindful of his capitulation on obeying John, Rodney nodded shortly. “Certainly. What about?”

John glanced back at Ronon, jerking his head towards the door. “We’re done here.”

Ronon hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay. Dinner’s in thirty.” He skirted Rodney and the cat, offering casually, “You want me to put out TFC’s dinner, McKay?”

His face a study in confusion, Rodney said, “What?”

Ronon stopped at the bedroom door, nodding at the cat. “TFC. That Fucking Cat. You want me to put out his dinner?”

Rodney’s jaw dropped. “I am not calling him that! That’s just…well, I’m not calling him that!”

Grinning, Ronon waved. “Whatever. I’ll put it out.” He disappeared from view, cheerfully whistling the theme to Born Free as he went.

John couldn’t help the grin at the scandalized expression on Rodney’s face. “Y’know, somehow it fits.” The grin slipped when the cat hissed at him again. “Any chance we can lose the cat?”

“No.” Clipped and to the point, Rodney’s voice allowed for no negotiation. “He’s still very distressed. He needs me.”

John grimaced but didn’t push the point. “Fine.” He turned to where he had discarded his briefcase on one of the bedroom sofas when he had entered the room after his feline assault. “I have something for you.”

Rodney stiffened. “I thought I made myself clear the other day, you can’t buy….” He frowned when John turned around and held out a small laminated bit of card with a barcode printed on it. “What’s that?”

“ID card.” John watched him carefully. “Colorado Springs has a pretty good university. Excellent science department and first-rate library and labs. I spoke to a contact I have down there and you’re too late to join for this semester, but they’re prepared to let you have some lab time and unlimited access to their library while you wait it out to join next semester. They even have a guy that’s willing to speak to you in a couple of weeks about transferring your credits for your PhD over and supervising your thesis.” And…Bingo! The stab of satisfaction in John’s gut at the look of naked yearning on Rodney’s face went a long way to quell the ever present annoyance that they’d once again fallen back into their holding pattern of warily circling each other, Rodney bristling with resentment and nerves and John clueless as to how he was going to achieve his goal of willing compliance from the scientist. He turned the card in his fingers, watching Rodney’s eyes follow it hungrily, saying idly, “There’s some lab time booked for you tomorrow if you want. Eleven till one. Your old university sent over the bare bones of what you were working on, but you can let the lab tech know if you have different requirements once you get there.”

Rodney couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the card, mouth working silently as he evidently tried to find the strength from somewhere inside to turn John down flat.

John hid his victorious smile and slowly held out his other hand, the fingers uncurling to allow a silver key chain and one shiny key to dangle enticingly in the air. “Of course you’re probably going to need this.”

Rodney’s eyes snapped to the key chain and he scowled. “That’s….”

Jangling the key up and down, John said levelly, “The key to your car.” He jangled the key again. “It’s still in the garage, Rodney. Waiting for you.”

Rodney’s gaze bounced back and forth between the key and the card and his grip tightened on unconsciously on the cat until it yowled angrily in protest. He startled and then looked up at John with angry, desperate eyes. “You know I don’t have the money to pay for the lab time. Or anything else.”

John nodded. “Uh-huh.” He shrugged, his casual stance belying the tension inside him as he waited to see what Rodney would do. “But thanks to me being a pretty heavy contributor to the university over recent years, and due to the fact that you can’t actually study there until next semester, there isn’t anything to pay. The Dean of Sciences was only too happy to extend the department’s hospitality to my partner for as long as he requires it.” He tilted his head to the side, ignoring Rodney’s angry grimace at the word ‘partner’, knowing that his next words were going to be what decided the other man. “And by the time the next semester rolls around and your fees are due then you’ll have had a couple of payouts on your trust fund and you’ll have the money there to cover it. Maybe even apply for a couple of grants.”

Eyes narrowed with mistrust, Rodney said slowly, “You’re not…you won’t try and make me take the money from you?”

“Nope.” John shook his head, almost smelling his victory in the air. He turned away, dropping the card and key negligently onto the sofa. “Anyway, I’m going to grab a shower before dinner. Make sure TFC is locked away before I come out.”

Eyes glued to the discarded objects, Rodney was barely aware of John leaving the room, muttering absently, “I’m not calling him that.”

John shut the bathroom door with a soft click and crossed to the sink to lean his hands on it, looking at himself in the mirror. Slowly his mouth spread in a wide, wide grin. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

When he came out of the bathroom some twenty minutes later, Rodney and TFC were gone – and so were the key and card.

~*~*~*

Love's Tangled Web 7

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 02:50:52 GMT

Over the coming days, John was forced to question his own good judgment and sanity in making Rodney keep the cat. Aside from the fact that Rodney had undertaken the challenge of caring for another living creature with gusto and as such was practically a ghost around the ranch, the damn cat itself hated John. At first he had convinced himself he was just being paranoid, but after the third consecutive attempt in as many days to trip him up when he was going downstairs, John was forced to conclude that the cat was out to get him. Still obviously malnourished and mangy from its time as a stray, the cat was also filled from nose to tail with pure, unadulterated evil and all of its malevolent hatred was focused solely on John. The pink plaster cast was proving no obstacle in the cat’s quest to remove him permanently from existence, and John, though he wouldn’t admit under torture, was really beginning to fear the day it came off as only the soft thump thump thump of the cast hitting the floor warned him of yet another attempt on his life.

When it wasn’t engaged in trying to make him take a header down the stairs, the cat seemed to spend the rest of its time John was home lurking behind doors and under furniture waiting to take a swipe at his ankles and other unguarded body parts, or – and the cat seemed to take special joy in this – waiting until John took his shoes off and relieving itself copiously in them.

Ronon, alerted to another feline stealth attack by his boss’ outraged yell, wandered into the study one morning to find John hopping ingloriously up and down on one foot, trying to strip his sock off and not drip runny cat poo all over the floor. The bodyguard grinned. “Morning, Sheppard.”

“That fucking cat!” John finally got his sock off and flung it in disgust into the fireplace where it landed with a wet squelch. “Where the hell is McKay? I told him to keep that animal under control!”

Ronon grinned wider. “Taking a shower.” He strolled over to where John was peering with revulsion into his ruined shoes and wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t look healthy.”

“It crapped in my shoe. Again.” Seething, John straightened up and pointed a finger at Ronon. “Find it, take it outside and shoot it! Now!”

Ronon shook his head, the grin falling off his face. “Not on your life. I’m still scratched up from last time. You do it.” He cast a wary glance around the room. “It’s not in here, is it?”

As if on cue a low, menacing hiss sounded and both men jumped before spinning in the direction of John’s desk and spying a pair of narrowed eyes watching them from beneath the wooden modesty panel. “Christ.” John took a step back. “Get your gun.”

Ronon shook his head, not taking his eyes from the desk. “Do I look crazy to you? One move and that thing’s going to attack.”

“It’s a cat, Ronon.” John’s own eyes remained fixed on the desk. “I’m pretty sure you can take it.”

“Uh-huh.” Not budging an inch, Ronon licked his lips, saying with conviction, “You don’t pay me enough to try.”

“Oh for chrissakes.” Exasperated, John tipped his head back and bellowed, “McKay! McKay, get in here and get this fucking cat! McKAY!”

“Already told you, he’s taking a shower.” Ronon edged an inch or so towards the door. “I’ll go get him, you wait here.”

“One more step and your ass is fired.” John glared at his apparently inaccurately named bodyguard, bellowing once more, “McKAY!”

“What?” The sound of Rodney’s peevish voice had both men turning towards the door and taking their attention from the hidden cat. An unwise move as it turned out. Aided by the thick carpeting in the study muffling the sound of it’s high speed approach, the cat shot out from under the desk at the sound of Rodney’s voice, only the high pitched yowl it gave at the last second saving John from receiving a set of teeth marks in his leg as well as the vicious claw marks that ended up adorning his naked foot. “Oh my God!” Frantically Rodney shot forwards, hands outstretched anxiously when John howled in pain and tried to kick the cat away from him. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Of course I’m hurt!” John flailed his arms trying to keep his balance as he tried to avoid the cat and Ronon deserted the field to make for the comparative safety of the other side of the room. “That fucking creature just stripped the skin off my goddamned foot!”

Rodney reached his side and bent to scoop the hissing cat into his arms, shooting John a scornful look. “Not you.” He lifted the cat up so they were eye to eye, worriedly looking him over. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

John watched in disbelief when the animal went liquid in Rodney’s hands and purred long and loudly in response to his obvious concern. “It made me bleed!”

Barely sparing him a glance, Rodney spat, “No more than you deserve; trying to harm a defenceless animal!”

Gaping, John sputtered, “Defenceless? It crapped in my shoe and keeps trying to kill me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rodney hugged the cat to his chest defensively looking at John with defiant eyes. “It’s a helpless animal, he hasn’t got a mean bone in his body!”

The cat rubbed his head against the underside of Rodney’s chin and flattened its ears whilst giving John a look filled with smug complacency.

“That’s it.” John pointed a finger at the cat, pushed beyond reasonable endurance by Rodney’s attitude and the damn creature’s self-satisfied expression. “That thing is gone. We’re leaving for work in five minutes. I want it boxed up and in the back of the car by the time we’re ready to go. We’ll drop it off at the pound on our way into the office.”

“What?” Rodney stepped hastily back, shoulders curling defensively and hugging the animal to his chest. “No, you can’t do that! You said I could keep it!”

John looked up from examining his bleeding foot, sneering, “Yeah? Well that was before I realized that the goddamned thing was a psychopath.” He glared at Rodney, saying with finality, “It goes. Get it secured and have it ready to go. Now!”

Rodney clutched the cat tighter to him and looked as though he was about to protest again, but one look at John’s dark expression stopped him cold. Without another word he turned on his heel and left, only the high colour in his cheeks giving away his emotional distress.

John scowled when the door slammed shut in Rodney’s wake and then caught Ronon’s disapproving eye from across the room. “What?”

Ronon shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Jesus, just spit it out, okay?” Exasperated, John stuck his hands on his hips and glared at his friend. “Obviously you’ve got something to say.”

Shrugging again, Ronon started for the door. “Just wondering what Jinto’s going to say when he finds out you made McKay get rid of their pet.” He hid a grin when he caught the sudden look of consternation on John’s face and continued mildly, “And I thought you wanted McKay to accept being here? He’s loves that thing; you cutting him some slack while he gets it house trained might go a long way towards settling him down.”

John opened his mouth and then shut it thoughtfully. Since their initial confrontation over the cat, Rodney had become even more wary and nervous of John – something he had actually thought to be impossible. They lay side by side in their shared bed every night, Rodney rigid with nerves that this might be the night when John finally took him, and when he did fall asleep the scientist invariably woke at several intervals through the night sometimes wordlessly yelling in fear and sometimes begging incoherently the John of his nightmares to leave him alone and let him go.

John hadn’t yet acknowledged to Rodney that he was aware of his fractured nights – he was too busy trying to ignore niggling voice at the back of his mind that was beginning to question his treatment of the other man. John stared at the floor silently for a moment before glancing up at Ronon. “Fetch McKay back here. I want to speak to him.”

Ronon raised an eyebrow. “Speak?”

“Just do it!” Impatiently, John turned away and stalked slightly lopsidedly towards his desk. “And go fetch me some more socks and shoes before you do.”

~*~*~*

Some ten minutes later, Rodney was hovering hesitantly in the doorway of the study clutching a mid-sized cardboard box in his arms and pale with distress as he eyed John sitting behind his desk waiting patiently for him to actually come into the room. “McKay, get in here. I don’t have all day.”

Rodney shook his head. “I…I’d prefer not actually.” Staring into the room like it was the deepest pit of hell and remembering the last time he was alone with John in it, Rodney bent and placed the box gently on the floor just over the threshold. “I’ll just leave…that is…he won’t be destroyed will he? Only you said that they would kill him if I allowed him to go to the pound, and he’s still sick and….”

“McKay!” Impatiently, John stood up from behind his desk and then stood stock still when Rodney gasped and stumbled back a step. He took a deep breath and forced himself to say in a calm voice, “Rodney. Come in. You can leave the door open. I just want to talk to you for a few minutes.” He offered a thin smile when Rodney still hesitated and said wryly, “Come on, you’ve got your attack-cat with you, one word from you and my ass is toast, right?”

Rodney wrapped his arms around his torso, flinching like he’d been struck at John’s attempt at humour. “I’d prefer to just go if that’s alright with you. I…I’ve never been very good at goodbyes, and Jin…Jinto will need to be told.” His eyes widened when John stepped around the desk, and he sputtered in panic, “I…I’ll tell him it was all my fault of course! I won’t let him think badly of you, you don’t need to worry!”

“Rodney,” John stopped halfway to the door and held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Take a breath, you don’t need to tell Jinto anything.” He continued evenly when Rodney’s mouth closed with a snap, “And if there was anything to tell Jinto then I’d take responsibility for my own actions, I wouldn’t expect you to cover for me. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay? I called you here because I wanted to tell you that I was wrong and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that and I shouldn’t have made you think I’d take your pet away from you.”

Rodney blinked uncertainly. “You…my pet?”

“Sure.” John scowled at the box where a low, mean hissing sound was emanating in response to his voice and then looked back up at Rodney. “Definitely yours. He’s had a rough time of it, I should be a bit more patient while you settle him into his new home.” He nodded at Rodney. “So. That’s it.”

Looking more confused by the second, Rodney looked down at the box and then back up at John. “I can keep him? You want him to stay here?”

Snorting, John said, “Don’t push it, McKay.” He frowned when the cautious look of hope bled from Rodney’s eyes and clarified hastily, “Yeah, yeah you can keep him. Just try and keep him out of my way, alright?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Rodney bent down to get the box keeping one eye on John and then froze suddenly. “I don’t…you don’t want…anything in exchange?”

John looked puzzled and then realization dawned. “Jesus, Rodney!” The harsh exclamation had Rodney straightening up and leaping backwards in alarm. “Christ, will you just calm the hell down? No I don’t want anything in exchange! For God’s sake!”

Indignantly, Rodney shot back, “Well I don’t think it’s an unreasonable assumption given our circumstances! That is why I’m here, remember? You…you haven’t really touched me in that way since you brought me here, and I have to assume that I’m to start earning my keep at some point.” Indignation giving way to alarmed suspicion, Rodney spluttered, “Oh my God, that’s why you made me take the cat, isn’t it? You knew I’d get attached to it and you wanted something else you could hold over my head! You…that’s despicable!”

John stared at Rodney. “Excuse me?”

“This is all part of your plan!” Rodney looked wildly between John and the box, the cat inside now beginning to scratch at its confines and hiss and yowl at increasing pitch in response to the escalating tension in the room. “This is a…a ringer or something! My God, I bet you even ran the poor thing over and planted it yourself for Jinto to find.” Rodney stopped short and then snapped his fingers rapidly. “No, no, that’s all wrong. Jinto was in on this, wasn’t he? You used his youth and…and…shortness to fool me and suck me in and distract me with the snot and the tears and…his mother!”

John blinked. “I got Jinto’s mother to help? With snot?”

“Oh don’t be an idiot!” Rodney glared and stabbed a triumphant finger in the air. “You made Jinto tell me all about his mother and when I was feeling…less impatient than usual with him your evil plan came to fruition! You bastard! Well you won’t fool me now, I’m on to you.”

Torn between annoyance and amusement at Rodney’s stunningly low opinion of him and his morals – and also the thought of Jinto being his cunning accomplice in his dastardly plan – John shook his head and murmured, “Okay, that’s it. De-caf for you from now on.”

Horrified, Rodney howled, “My God, are there no depths to which you won’t sink?”

John couldn’t help himself and burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, enough.” He held up his hands when Rodney swelled up in righteous rage at the thought of his coffee being taken from him and repeated firmly, “Enough, McKay. As flattering as it is to have you credit me with that much ingenuity, I swear you’ve got it all wrong. There’s no agenda here. I just want you to keep your cat.”

Rodney deflated slightly and looked at John suspiciously. “Really?” He frowned, clarifying hastily, “And the coffee, right?”

John grinned and nodded. “Yeah, and the coffee.” He watched Rodney for a moment and then nodded again, this time in silent decision. “In fact, while you’re here, I may as well give you something else.” He turned back to his desk and rummaged in the top drawer for a moment before withdrawing an A4 envelope and walking slowly towards the door, determinedly keeping a non-threatening expression on his face. “Here. This is for you.”

Staring at the envelope, Rodney shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “What is it? You found my childhood nanny and wanted to let me know you’ll be repossessing her house if I don’t keep toeing the line?”

Glowering for a moment, John froze and then with a visible effort relaxed again. “Not exactly. Go on. Take it. It’s okay.” He smiled tightly when Rodney looked uncertainly at him and shook the envelope, a tinny jingle sounding from within. “Seriously, nothing in here to hurt you.” John looked warily down at the box still on the floor between them, now looking a little battered as the cat stepped up its bid for freedom. “Which is more than I can say for me if that fucking cat gets loose.”

Rodney looked startled and then hurriedly snatched the envelope from John when the other man’s attention was diverted to the box, now starting to rock from side to side. He took another prudent step back from John and tore the top of the envelope off, peering inside with a wary expression that rapidly melted into one of bewilderment. “I…I don’t understand.”

John shrugged, one eye still on the box. “What’s to understand? I told you I take my responsibilities seriously, you need this stuff.” He sidled back a step when one clawed paw managed to tear a hole in one side of the box. “Its all for you.” Uneasy, John moved further back from the box when the hole enlarged and one malevolent eye pressed up against it for a moment before a furious yowl sounded and one foreleg replaced the eye to swipe fiercely at the air.

Rodney delved into the envelope and then pulled his hand out, fingers clutching a thin cellphone, several credit cards and a set of keys. “But…I don’t understand. What is this?”

Looking increasingly worried by the cat’s progress in freeing itself, John snapped harshly, “What the hell does it look like? The keys are for a jeep out in the garage. The cards are for you to use. The numbers are all in the envelope.” He backed up another step when a maddened feline head shoved its way through the cardboard wall of the box and the cat’s eyes fixed on him with fierce intent. “Will you do something about that fucking cat?”

Rodney continued to stare blankly at the objects in his hand. “But…you bought me a car?”

John tensed when the cat managed to wriggle mostly free, only held back at the last minute by its cast getting caught on the torn cardboard. “McKay! The cat!”

“What?” Rodney shook his head dazedly and then looked down at the floor. “Oh. Yes, of course.” Disregarding the frankly alarming hissing coming from the animal, he dropped the envelope and its contents carelessly on the floor and bent to grab the cat just as it managed to work its way free. “There, I’ve got you now. Its alright.” John watched in disbelief when he snuggled the animal to his chest and rubbed his face over its fur. “You’re alright now. I’ve got you.”

The cat downgraded its hissing after taking a half-hearted swipe at Rodney’s exposed wrist – with claws firmly detracted John was disgusted to note – and then turned its head to stare unblinkingly at John with evil purpose written clearly over its face.

John cleared his throat, trying to ignore the cat and its narrowed eyed focus. “So, just keep the phone on so I can get hold of you. I’ll see you tonight.” He moved around the destroyed box on the floor, keeping a healthy distance between himself and the animal in Rodney’s arms as he skirted the other man. “Have a good day.”

“Wait!” Rodney, to John’s consternation, followed him into the hall. “Wait, Sheppard, you mean I can leave? No one will try to stop me? I can just…go?”

John turned, his expression suddenly dangerous. “Not for good, McKay, so don’t go getting any ideas.” He folded his arms over his chest at Rodney’s stricken expression and said firmly, “The car’s there for you to make use of during the day. I know you don’t have much money of your own – even less now you paid off the vet the other day – and there’s probably things you’re going to need to amuse yourself, so use the cards.” He nodded at Rodney. “I told you, I take care of my responsibilities.”

Rodney stared at him for a moment and then scowled. “Well, how very magnanimous of you. My gilded cage is looking so much more bearable now I have a little pin money to blow on getting my hair and nails done! Thanks so much!”

“Jesus Christ, what the hell does it take?” Exasperated, John raked his hands through his hair, yelling angrily, “I just don’t want a repeat of the other day, okay? Things got way out of hand and I don’t want….” He bit off what he was about to say just in time, shocked as hell that the next words about to come out of his mouth were ‘I just wanted to make things up to you and I don’t want to hurt you like that again’. He closed his mouth with a snap, his expression going carefully neutral.

“What?” Rodney hugged the cat to him, glaring balefully at John over the top of its head. “You don’t want to what?”

John still reeling from his wholly unwelcome revelation, glared back, hissing heatedly, “God, what the hell is it going to take to satisfy you? What the hell do you want?”

“Oh, let me think.” Rodney stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “My freedom, you idiot!”

Tense silence fell between them before John abruptly turned away. “Never gonna happen, McKay.” He stalked away, not looking back at Rodney’s slumped figure. “Keep your phone on, I’ll be calling you during the day.”

The front door slammed shut a few seconds later leaving Rodney standing in the hall with angry, frustrated tears in his eyes and several thousand dollars in unwanted money lying on the floor behind him.

~*~*~*

True to his word John did call several times during the day, Rodney answering with sullen resentment every time. Although given permission – positively encouraged in fact – to finally leave the ranch, there was still a small part of him that believed his new part-freedom was nothing more than another cruel game by John and although he did make it out to the garage several times throughout the day he did nothing more than stare with dull eyes at his new jeep before turning back to the house and his cat with leaden steps.

When John came home that night, warily looking around in case the cat was intending to make another attempt on his life, it was to find Rodney standing stiffly in the hallway of the house, clutching the re-sealed envelope. “Here,” Rodney barely waited until John had shut the door behind him before thrusting the envelope at him. “Take it back, I don’t want it.”

John stared at the crumpled envelope and then raised one eyebrow. “You don’t want it?”

“No.” White-faced and resolute, Rodney shook his head and thrust the envelope at John again. “I don’t want anything to do with it. I w…won’t t…take your money. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Huh.” John looked at Rodney, carefully hiding the irritation in his eyes at yet another show of resistance, and shrugged. “Well that’s just tough, McKay. I told you before, as my partner people will expect you to meet certain standards. The money and the car are part of that.”

Rodney lifted his chin rebelliously, stating firmly, “Yes, well, fortunately I’m no longer twelve and peer pressure has absolutely no effect on me.” His lip curled in a sneer. “And still not Paris Hilton, so the whole dangling shiny things at me to sweeten my disposition isn’t going to work either.” He scowled when John still made no move to take the envelope and then tossed it at his feet contemptuously. “I’ve already eaten, I’m going up to the bedroom.”

Having struggled all day with the realization that Terence McKay’s son was having much more of an effect on him than he’d reckoned on, John was pushed beyond endurance at the curt dismissal when Rodney turned on his heel and made for the stairs. “The hell you are; get back here!”

Rodney’s step faltered at the furious command, but he continued towards the stairs nonetheless. “No. I told you I’m not changing my mind. I won’t take your money, I won’t be bought.”

His foot had barely touched the bottom stair when John lunged. Spinning Rodney around, John gripped his biceps and pushed him back against the wall. “Don’t ever turn your back on me again.”

Rodney bucked against John’s hold, hands coming up to press against his shoulders. “Let me go!” His breath coming in short pants and his eyes wide with fear, he had to tip his head back in order to look directly into John’s eyes thanks to the other man holding him in place with his entire body and emphasizing the difference in their heights, saying hoarsely, “Let me go right now!”

John felt his body stir at the heat and tense hardness of Rodney’s body and shoved forwards with his hips. “Make me.” Fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically on Rodney’s arms, he held just enough control of himself to remember not to grip too hard and cause yet more bruising on the pale skin. “Come on, McKay, make me. Stop whining and show me what a big man you are.”

Impossibly, Rodney tensed even more. His mouth twisted in bitter distress and he turned his head away from John, saying sourly, “My God, you really did pay attention to everything about my father, didn’t you? You’re practically quoting the damn man.” He shuddered from top to toe and finally raised disgusted blue eyes to John’s furious face. “You really think that tossing money and…and things at me will make this situation any better? Makes you any less of a pathetic, inadequate human being? My father has believed for years that any problem can be solved with either money or material goods, I don’t suffer from that affliction.” Rodney lifted his head, pride shining from his face. “In case you missed it, Mr. Sheppard, I walked away from that. It means nothing to me. I could care less that I’m wearing five-dollar pants or five hundred dollar ones; as long as they keep me warm then I don’t give it any thought. You can try to appease whatever passes for your conscience in any way you wish, but I’m still not going to see you as anything less than the bullying scum you are.”

John’s jaw clenched and his fingers bit down fiercely into Rodney’s arms before he checked himself and released his grip slightly. “Yeah?” His eyes searched Rodney’s face for a moment before he nodded abruptly to himself. “Then I don’t have anything to lose, do I?” Before Rodney realized his intention, John pulled back and moved his grip from Rodney’s biceps to his wrists, yanking them above his head and pinning them to the wall. Pausing for a scant second when Rodney cried out in fear, John pushed a thigh between the other man’s legs and shoved his body back up against Rodney’s, pinning him helplessly in place and leaving him squirming frantically in place as he tried to escape. “Give it up, McKay, you got no place to go.”

Bucking and arching his body as much as he could in his position, Rodney yelled, “No! Get off me! I won’t let you do this!”

John laughed cruelly. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t have a whole lot of choice.” He pressed harder against Rodney’s body when the frantic struggles increased. “That all you’ve got, McKay?” He bent his head and tried to capture Rodney’s mouth, laughing again when Rodney gasped and tried to evade him. “Come on, Rodney, fight me. Make me back off.”

Almost sobbing with desperation, Rodney tried to turn his head again when he saw John duck his head in an attempt to capture his mouth again, but this time he was just too slow. His high pitched keen of despair was swallowed between John’s lips when he brought his mouth crashing down on Rodney’s and the only recourse left open to the trapped man was to writhe between John’s body and the wall as his chest heaved with muffled screams. John’s tongue pressed inside his mouth, stroking furiously at Rodney’s, pushing and pushing until he thought he would never be allowed to breath again. He tried once more to cry out, eyes screwing up tight in despair when the sound just disappeared into Sheppard’s mouth again and strained futilely at the grip on his wrists.

John pulled back when he felt the frenzied tugging as Rodney tried to free his arms and stared hard into the frightened face below him. “Open your eyes.” He snarled when Rodney moaned low in his throat and turned his head away as much as he was able, trying to tuck it protectively down onto his own shoulder. “McKay, open your eyes or I swear to God you’ll regret it.” He waited whilst Rodney took several deep, shuddering breaths and then hesitantly turned his head and reluctantly obeyed. John stared down into the wide, fear filled eyes and then deliberately pushed his crotch against Rodney’s once more. “You feel what you do to me?” He pushed again when Rodney’s eyes widened even further as he felt the hard bulge in John’s pants and he tried to wriggle away, whimpers of fright escaping him despite his best efforts to control them. “Stay still!” John’s harsh command exploded between them and Rodney pressed back against the wall, gulping frantically and beginning to shake with reaction. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this before it sinks in, McKay, but stop fighting me.” His head darted forward for another kiss and Rodney flinched in reflex, his head turning at the last second so that John’s mouth ended up hitting the soft skin just under his ear. John chuckled darkly. “Yeah. That? Exactly what you need to stop doing.” His mouth dragged wetly over Rodney’s skin causing the other man to moan pitifully again. “I can make this so good for us if you’d just stop fighting me. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“I can’t!” The tortured cry burst from Rodney’s throat and he closed his eyes against the hot flood of desolation he felt well up inside him. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t! You have to let me go, please, just…oh God, please just let me go.”

“Rodney,” John closed his own eyes and breathed in the scent of hot skin and soap. “Stop fighting. Let go. Give me what I want.”

Trembling from head to toe, Rodney shook his head, whispering barely audibly, “No. Never.”

John’s breath burst from him in an angry expulsion of air and his head snapped back. “God, why won’t you just give in?” Livid hazel eyes stared down into blue and John spat harshly, “Why, Rodney?”

Rodney gazed back at him helplessly, fixated by the swirling emotions in John’s eyes and both of them were so caught up in their confrontation that neither man realized the front door had opened again until a new voice was heard.

“Rodney?” Rodney’s head snapped round at the sound of the shocked female voice and he felt the blood drain from his face when he found himself staring into the face of someone he hadn’t thought to see again for a very long time, maybe not ever again. “Rodney, what is happening? Is everything alright?”

Barely aware of John jerking away from him and releasing his hold, Rodney stared in horror across the hall. “Oh God. Teyla.”

“I have read the papers and scarcely recognized the man they described as my friend. I was concerned and came to make sure you were alright.” Teyla Emmagen dropped the holdall she was carrying in one hand onto the floor and stepped to one side, her eyes flickering warily between John and Rodney, still frozen at the foot of the stairs. “Obviously I was right to do so.” She curled her delicate hands into fists against her denim-clad legs. “I heard you cry out when I stepped from my car. Rodney, what is going on?”

~*~*~*

Reeling from the events of the past half an hour, a very shaken Rodney had managed to escape from the house with an equally shaken Teyla in tow and had led her out into the garden behind the ranch, away from John’s watchful eyes and not so subtle reminders that any attempt to deviate from the story John had given to the world and things would go very badly for Rodney when Teyla once more departed. Scarcely unable to believe that Teyla had jumped in her little bone-shaker of a car and driven thousands of miles across the border on nothing more than a hunch something was wrong, Rodney had slumped onto the first available seat he could find, sinking to his head into his hands and wracking his famously large brain for something -anything - she would believe. Unfortunately his first offering of a lovers’ interrupted tiff wasn’t cutting any ice.

“Rodney,” Teyla stared at her friend in bewildered dismay. “This…makes no sense.” She looked over her shoulder at the house standing bathed in the early evening sunlight, almost radiating peace and safety. “Why would you allow this man to treat you this way?” She looked away from the house and down at her friend’s hunched shoulders and bowed head where he sat on the stone bench beside the small pond at the edge of the formal lawns. “This is not you, my friend. Please,” She rested a hand on Rodney’s shoulder and bent to try and catch his eye. “Let me help you. Whatever hold you think Sheppard has over you….”

Rodney shrugged sullenly out from under her hand and scowled as he turned his head away. “Oh for God’s sake, stop being so melodramatic, Teyla. We were having an argument. Couples have them, you know.” His fists clenched unconsciously when he practically spat his next words. “We’re very happy. Now, not that it wasn’t great to see you, but I really think you should be going.”

“Rodney!” Teyla grabbed for his arm when Rodney stood abruptly and matched him glower for glower when he finally met her eyes for the first time since he had practically dragged her from the house after she had walked in on him and John. “Do not take me for a fool, I know what I saw. Come with me. I have my car; we will leave immediately and return home. I will help you, I swear. He will not come near you again.”

“Hello? Married here!” Rodney waved his hand whip fast through the air and shot a wary look towards the house just in case John or Ronon decided that he might need a reminder of just what everyone around him stood to lose if he succumbed to temptation and headed for the hills with Teyla. “Very happy. Ecstatically so, in fact.”

“Yes, I see that.” Teyla grabbed the arm of Rodney’s sweatshirt before he could stop her and yanked it back to reveal the perfect outline of John’s fingertips in livid purple. “Did you think that someone who does not know you like I do would not recognize an attempt to hide your condition?” Her eyes narrowed when Rodney hissed and jerked his arm away, dragging the material back over his flesh frantically. “A person who loved you would not mark you so, Rodney, you know this.” Her face flooded with soft sympathy. “I knew you to be a lonely man, but I never thought that you would allow yourself to be….”

“Oh my God!” Outraged, Rodney glared at his friend. “Do I look like movie of the week material to you? Or perhaps you were thinking of a Jerry Springer special ‘Physicists Who Love Too Much And The Entrepreneurs That Big Bang Them’? Get a hold of yourself, woman.” His mind raced to offer up another explanation. “Don’t you recognize passion marks when you see them?”

Blatantly not buying a single word, Teyla crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows pointedly. “I will not leave here without you.” She glared ferociously in the direction of the house. “You might be at a physical disadvantage through no fault of your own, but I am not. If Sheppard or anyone else tries to stop us leaving, I will make them very sorry.”

Rodney stared at the very small woman who was clearly itching to do battle with all comers on his behalf and then mentally compared her to Ronon. Or Halling. Or indeed anyone who stood over five foot tall in Sheppard’s employment on the ranch. Hell, even Jinto’s picture flashed briefly through his mind. “Are you insane? Wait, don’t answer that, of course you are. We wouldn’t make it five feet!”

Looking triumphant, Teyla smiled coldly. “So you admit I have reason to be concerned?”

“What? Wait, I –“ Rodney flushed in consternation and then with another worried glance back towards the house took hold of Teyla and dragged her into the tree line. “Stop putting words in my mouth! There is nothing unhealthy about my relationship with Shepp…John, at all!”

Looking more triumphant with each passing second, Teyla leaned closer and enquired pleasantly, “So why are we hiding in the trees and whispering to each other?”

Rodney open and shut his mouth a few times before spluttering indignantly, “You are an evil, evil woman. Evil!”

Teyla shrugged and nodded in affable agreement. “As you say.” She smiled coolly. “I am also, as previously stated, concerned about you.” She began to cast a speculative gaze around her on the woodland floor. “I can also assure you that I will not be so easy to foil when the time comes for us to leave.” She made a small sound of satisfaction and bent gracefully to lift two reasonably long and smooth sticks from the ground. “Especially now I am armed.”

Bug-eyed, Rodney stared in disbelief. “With twigs?”

Teyla huffed an impatient breath, took a step back and then proceeded to give Rodney a thirty second demonstration of impressive manual dexterity and martial intent that had him stumbling back and spluttering with shock.

Eyeing his previously gentle and feminine friend in horrified amazement from where he eventually ended up hiding behind a tree, Rodney spluttered some more before bursting out, “Okay, twigs-of-death, but still!” He looked at Teyla standing in the cool green shadows of the trees and tried shake off the numbness her sudden transformation into Xena had caused. “What the hell was that?”

Looking smug, Teyla twirled her twigs again. “The people of my tribe are taught from a young age to defend themselves against our enemies. This is but one of many skills I have learned as a warrior.”

“You lived on a island filled with coconuts and lagoons, how could you possibly have any enemies?” Rodney edged out from behind the tree and stabbed an indignant finger at Teyla. “And you’re a physiotherapist!”

Teyla shrugged. “It is a valuable skill to be able to repair the damage I can also inflict. It helps to understand the nature of the wounds I am healing.” Her expression darkened for a moment. “And my people, peaceful and simple though they are, have many enemies. We must always be prepared for battle.”

“With sticks?!” Rodney stared in disbelief at Teyla, ignoring her impatient huff and narrowing of her eyes. “My God, am I the only sane person I know?”

Teyla’s patience ended abruptly. “Apparently not. I do not call it the actions of a sane man to stay in an abusive relationship, no matter how luxurious his surroundings.” She lifted a stick and pointed it at Rodney when his mouth opened in outrage. “That is the only reason I can think of that would truly blind you to the reality of your situation.” She took a step forward, saying imploringly, “Rodney, no amount of material comfort is worth the pain he will cause you. I know times have been difficult for all of us over the years, but haven’t we always survived? Please, listen to reason, whatever menial tasks we have been forced to perform we have never been forced to such desperate lengths to support ourselves.”

Rodney’s jaw dropped and his eyes bulged worryingly. “Wait, I’ve suddenly gone from being a battered wife to a whore? Oh, yes, that’s very nice! Lovely!” Flushed, furious and pushed beyond endurance, Rodney clenched his fists and yelled, “Well perhaps it might interest you to know that I’m not actually whoring myself out for me, I’m trying to save everyone else in my life from destitution, including you, you smug little savage!”

Teyla took a step back. “What?”

Time stood still for a moment and then Rodney paled. “Oh God.” He took a step back, hands coming up to wave frantically in the air as though trying to scrub out the last thirty seconds. “Forget I said that. In fact disregard anything I’ve said to you today. I’ve been drinking. A lot!”

Aghast, Teyla stared at her friend. “I will not forget it.” Her eyes widened when Rodney began to noticeably shake and she dropped her sticks to the floor, taking one fast step forward to grip Rodney’s forearms. “Rodney, either you tell me yourself what is going on here, or I swear on the heads of all my ancestors I shall go back to the house and demand answers from Sheppard himself.”

“No!” Rodney’s hands came up in turn to grip Teyla’s arms, making her wince with his urgency and unintentionally hard grip. “No, you mustn’t. Promise me, Teyla, no matter what, that you’ll stay far away from Sheppard at all costs.”

Teyla stared with determination into Rodney’s panicked eyes. “I will not give my promise until I have answers, Rodney.”

Rodney gazed back helplessly for a moment, reading the implacable resolve in Teyla’s face and then abruptly let her go and shoved her away, sagging in defeat. “God, I can’t believe this.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, eyes burning with shame and sudden weariness. “Teyla, please, can’t you just go? Just…leave.”

For a moment Teyla hesitated, caught by the utter misery portrayed in every line of Rodney’s body and then she shook her head resolutely, thinking of the scene she had stumbled over when she had first been reunited with her friend. “I am sorry, I cannot. Rodney, tell me the truth. What is happening here? What is happening to you?”

Rodney bowed his head for a moment and then straightened, casting a worried look back out through the trees in the direction of the house. “Okay, but…not here, okay? Come with me a little deeper into the woods and I’ll tell you what I can, but we’ve got to hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Teyla cast her own glance back at the house and then nodded, bending to scoop her sticks up from the floor and gesturing gracefully with one hand for Rodney to precede her. “Then lead the way, my friend.”

~*~*~*

Twenty minutes later, Teyla was staring with speechless horror at Rodney and the man himself was bright red with a combination of embarrassment and anger that he had been forced to reveal the sordid truth of his life to his friend.

“Rodney.” Teyla swallowed and her eyes shone with empathy. “You must not do this. Your family cannot want you to do this for them.”

Rodney hunched his shoulders miserably at the mention of his family and felt his face flame that little bit harder with shame. “Yes, well, clearly you’re confusing them with people who actually care about me.” He stared furiously at the ground, muttering miserably, “Jeannie would possibly help me if I asked, but she was prepared to go through with this herself, so I….”

“Rodney!” In her emotional state, Teyla spoke more sharply than she intended. “Radek and I do not wish you to do this for us! When I tell him what is going on here….”

“No! God, no!” Rodney’s head whipped up and he glowered at Teyla. “That’s all I need. It’s enough that I was stupid enough to tell you, do you really think I want anyone else knowing about this?”

Teyla clenched her fists. “I will not stand by whilst you sacrifice yourself for my sake, and Radek will not do so either. This Sheppard cannot hold so much power, we will find a way to stop him.”

Exasperated, Rodney shook his head. “You don’t understand, there is no way.” He shrugged irritably. “Or if there is then I haven’t found it yet. And believe me, I’ve looked.”

“Then we will leave here and go with Radek into hiding until we have found a way.” Teyla gripped Rodney’s arm and tugged to have him stumble along behind her as she headed back out of the trees. “There is no shame in a strategic retreat in the face of overwhelming odds.”

“Yes, thank you, Winston Churchill!” Rodney yanked his arm free and stubbornly planted his feet wide apart when Teyla turned back to him impatiently. “I’m not going.” He held up a hand when Teyla began to protest and with a quick glance towards the house to make sure they were still alone, stepped close to his friend and whispered urgently, “Teyla, listen to me please. I…I know that you won’t understand this, but I have to stay. Believe me, I’m not that much of a martyr that I’d put myself through this ordeal just for you or my family….” He stopped and looked stricken. “Not to say that you aren’t, uh, important to me, because you are, obviously, but, well, you have to understand that….”

“Rodney.” Lips twitching with reluctant mirth, Teyla stepped in before Rodney managed to combust from mortification. “I understand. Strangely it actually makes me feel a little better.”

“What?” Rodney blinked. “Oh. Good. Well….” He shot another look towards the house and lowered his voice even further. “There’s something Sheppard doesn’t know, something that I have to stop him finding out about at all costs, because if he did….” Rodney snatched up Teyla’s hands and held them in an iron grip, making her wince with his urgency. “You can’t begin to imagine the pain and devastation it would cause people that are wholly innocent in this mess. If I’m here, if I let him use me like this, then he thinks he’s won. He’s just concentrating on me and he’s not looking for another way to hurt my family. If I go with you now then he will start his campaign again, probably a million times more rabid than he is now and he won’t just be focusing on my father, but on me and I haven’t…I haven’t….” Rodney broke off, his voice failing him at the thought of Sheppard finding out his secret. “Teyla, I can’t let that happen. I won’t!”

Appalled, Teyla shook her head. “Rodney, there must be a way. The police….”

“No!” Rodney paled, hissing angrily, “If you go to the police I’ll deny everything. I’ll say you made the whole thing up because…because…because you’re jealous! Yes, that’s it; I’ll say you’re jealous. You wanted Sheppard for yourself, but he wanted me and now you’re out to destroy us any way you can.”

“Rodney!” Teyla pulled her hands from his with an angry gasp. “I am only trying to help you.”

Groaning, Rodney scrubbed his hands over his face. “Yes, yes, I know, but can’t you understand that, for the moment, there is no way to help me?” He dropped his hands with a bone weary sigh and tried to smile. “I appreciate you coming all this way, I really do, I didn’t think for one moment that our, ah….”

Teyla smiled despite herself when Rodney floundered. “Friendship?”

“Yes! That.” Rodney looked relieved. “Good word. I, uh, didn’t realize that you valued our friendship so highly that you would come all this way just to see me and make sure I was okay, and the fact that you have it, well, it, uh….”

Teyla’s smile widened and she folded her arms over her chest, supplying helpfully, “It means a great deal?”

“Ha!” Rodney snapped his fingers and pointed at her delightedly. “Yes, exactly! But now you have to go. Far, far away.”

Teyla lost the smile. “Rodney.”

“No, Teyla, you have to listen to me.” Rodney’s voice dropped again and he spoke faster, aware time was running out before John or Ronon realized they were no longer in sight of the house. His mind raced frantically as he tried to think of something – any kind of context at all – that would make Teyla understand why he couldn’t leave. Then it came to him. “Okay, you remember when we first met?”

Clearly puzzled at the abrupt change in subject, Teyla nodded. “Of course. You thought I was the new janitor for our building and shouted at me most aggressively for twenty minutes about all the repairs that were required, insulted my work ethic and intelligence and then accused me of using the master keys to the apartments to gain entrance to your home and steal money, food and your good coffee.”

Rodney blinked and then flushed. “Oh. Right.” He waved a hand through the air once more. “Okay, not that far back. I meant when I realized that you weren’t some thieving little harpy, but when we became, uh, friends and you told me why you came to Canada in the first place.”

Teyla quirked an eyebrow and then nodded. “Yes, for my people. To help them and to gain knowledge that would alleviate the suffering that the genetic anomaly in our DNA was causing.”

“Exactly!” Rodney nodded. “I thought you were insane, remember? Giving up on your own hopes and dreams to pursue a career that you had no love for just to make some last ditch effort to save a bunch of illiterate yokels.”

Her mouth pinching, Teyla’s eyes narrowed. “I remember, yes. You were very…unfeeling to my people’s pain.”

“But now I get it.” Rodney took his friend by the shoulders and stared into her eyes imploringly. “I get why you’ve made that sacrifice and I get why you keep on making that sacrifice. There was no one else around that could do what you did, was there?”

Frowning, Teyla shook her head. “No, but Rodney, it is not the same thing.”

“Yes, it is.” Rodney’s mouth trembled for a moment and then he forced a smile. “This is exactly the same thing. I know what I’m doing here, Teyla, and the sacrifice is worth it, believe me.” He darted a look back over his shoulder at the house and then looked down at his friend once more, saying unconvincingly, “And it’s not so bad here, really. Sheppard hasn’t…I mean, today was the first….” He swallowed back bile thinking of the altercation in the hall, finishing in a rush, “He hasn’t touched me so far. And he says…he says he won’t force me. That he won’t hurt me.”

Eyes liquid with distress, Teyla raised a hand and traced Rodney’s swollen lips before bringing the hand to one of his wrists and gently wrapping her fingers around it. “Rodney, he already has.”

Rodney couldn’t stop the flinch, even though Teyla’s cool and gentle touch was a world away from John’s hot and fierce grip. “I…things got out of hand. I pushed and….” He shook his head, eyes closing briefly before he firmed his chin in determination and opened his eyes again. “I won’t let it happen again. He says this only needs to be as bad as I make it. If I stay out of his way and don’t mouth off he generally leaves me alone. Teyla, please, I can do this. Trust me.”

Feeling sick to her stomach, Teyla finally nodded after a tortuously long pause. “I will do as you ask.” Rodney let out a shaky breath of relief, only to tense back up again when Teyla added, “But if you find you cannot cope, or things get…out of hand…once more, please Rodney, come home and let us help you. Do not let this man make you forget that there are people willing to sacrifice as much for you as you are sacrificing for them.”

Rodney stared at her silently for a moment, throat working with emotion before he pulled her into a rough, clumsy hug. “Thank you. That…means a lot.” He held her to him for another moment before reluctantly pushing her away. “Now. You’ll leave? I need to know that you’re safe and out of harm’s reach.”

“Yes.” Teyla nodded, every line on her face filled with distress, but she gave her agreement. “I will leave.” She placed a hand on Rodney’s arm when he turned to lead the way back to the house. “Rodney, I want you to know that I will tell Radek everything when I get home.” She held up a hand to forestall Rodney’s angry protest. “That is my only condition. I will respect your choice and leave you here, but I must be allowed to tell Radek the situation. Perhaps with three of us now working on a way to solve this problem we might be able to defeat this man and still protect whatever it is that you are fighting so hard to protect.” She lifted beseeching eyes to his face. “Please, Rodney, if you cannot allow me to help in any other way, at least allow me this. I cannot sit back and do nothing.”

Rodney looked at her pleading face, fighting back humiliation and fury that another person would know about his situation and then nodded resentfully. “Yes, okay, fine.” He shrugged her hand from his arm. “Come on, you have to go.” They walked silently for a little way, each lost in their own thoughts before Rodney reached out and touched Teyla’s shoulder. “Hey.” He waited until she turned pained eyes to him and then gave a weak attempt at a smile. “Thanks.”

When Rodney watched Teyla drive away a few minutes later he honestly feared for a moment that a breakdown was imminent. The shock of seeing his friend again, the horror at her bursting in on him and Sheppard and, most of all, Sheppard’s attack on him was nearly all too much to take and it was all Rodney could do not to curl up in a ball on the driveway and howl himself into oblivion. Chest heaving with harsh breaths, he stood watching until not just Teyla’s car had vanished but the last traces of dust had resettled on the ground before forcing himself to turn back towards the house…only to be brought up short when he was Sheppard standing silently in the doorway watching him.

“She’s gone then?” John nodded to indicate the direction Teyla’s car had disappeared in and then looked hard at Rodney. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing, I….” Hopelessly, Rodney shook his head, his heart thumping inside him at the thought that John might not believe him and that his night of horrors might not be over yet. “I swear, I didn’t tell her anything but we were having a lover’s quarrel.” He shrugged, avoiding John’s sceptical eyes. “She knows me, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch to make her believe that I pushed you too far. She thinks you’re very…passionate.” He waited without breathing for John to reply, eyes fixed on the ground and his whole body radiating defeat. “I…she won’t be back. I made her believe me.”

John’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Rodney, but he was unable to tell whether the man was telling the truth or not without looking into his eyes. He flicked another glance down the driveway and then nodded. “Fair enough. You coming in?”

Rodney’s head shot up and he stared at John for a moment, unable to believe that that was the end of it. “You…believe me?”

“Sure.” John shrugged. “And even if you did tell her everything, what’s she going to do, right? No one will believe her and there’s no one to help her either. I’ll know soon enough if she tries anything. ” He looked away from Rodney’s stricken expression and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Come on.”

Rodney stared at John, his face filling with trepidation. “Are you…should I wait for you upstairs?”

John went utterly still for a moment before an indefinable emotion flashed across his face. “No.” He looked at Rodney as the other man moved hesitantly towards him and shook his head. “No, Rodney. Go on up to bed if you like, but we’re done for tonight.” Dark eyes skimmed over Rodney’s bruised mouth and pale skin, and John’s mouth tightened before he said almost gently, “I’ve made my point, right? We’re not going to have to go through this again?”

Rodney darted one last look of his own back down the driveway and then met John’s eyes, nodding in defeated agreement. “Yes, you’ve made your point.” He swallowed hard and whispered, “I won’t fight you any more.”

John felt something in his gut clench tight at the beaten tone of Rodney’s voice and couldn’t stop his hand reaching out to brush the side of Rodney’s cheek. He stopped when Rodney couldn’t stop the involuntary flinch at his touch and then continued to gently drag his fingertips over the cool skin. “Good. That’s good, Rodney.”
Rodney stood passive under his hand and then when John drew back walked slowly past him and into the house. John watched him for a moment and then followed him in, murmuring unconvincingly to himself, “Yeah. That’s good.”

~*~*~*

Love's Tangled Web 6

Fri, 05 Jan 2007 01:19:53 GMT

~*~*~*

That evening John eyed Rodney over the dinner table and couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that something was just a little…off. Used to Rodney behaving skittishly around him, John hadn’t paid much attention when the other man had been decidedly jumpy since joining him for dinner, what was unusual however was the smug little grin playing around Rodney’s mouth whenever he thought John wasn’t looking his way and the lightening glances he kept shooting at the picture window facing over the lawns instead of his usual single-minded focus on his food.

“Everything alright, McKay?” John watched when Rodney flinched at the sound of his name when he was caught peering out of the window yet again, and dropped his fork with a clatter. “You got somewhere you need to be?”

“What? No!” Rodney, completely useless at the art of subterfuge, picked up his fork and then managed to knock over his water glass. “Oh! Sorry, I’ll just….” John watched in disbelief when Rodney snatched up his napkin, snagged the edge of his wine goblet and flooded the remnants of his beef pot roast with the rather nice burgundy they had been drinking. “Oh.” Rodney looked sorrowfully at his ruined dinner. “Damn. I’m still hungry.”

John stared in morbid fascination at the small patch of devastation. “Maybe you should just grab a sandwich. Y’know, something that doesn’t actually involve using utensils.”

Throwing John a scathing look of intense dislike, Rodney sneered. “Oh ha ha. Very amusing.” His attention was caught again by something outside the window and his eyes widened. “Um, actually, on second thoughts I’m not all that hungry.’

John’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

“Um, yes. Mm, quite full actually.” Rodney beamed a smile at John that, like nothing else before it, convinced him that Rodney was definitely up to something. “I think perhaps I’ll skip dessert.”

Waiting for it, John nodded agreeably. “Sure, if that’s what you want.” Sure enough, Rodney’s eyes flickered away again, but this time John was ready for him and whipped round in his chair to take his own look through the window. “But maybe you’d just better tell me what the fu….is that Jinto?” He blinked when Jinto froze in the midst of beckoning impatiently for Rodney to come outside and then waved lamely when he realized he’d been busted. “What’s he doing?”

“I…I….” Equally rusty in his obfuscation skills as his subterfuge ones, Rodney blinked helplessly back at John when he turned his head and fixed him with an enquiring look. “He’s, um, waving. At me. To say hello.” He looked past John and waved with an attempt at a cheerful smile on his face. “Hello!”

John turned his head back just in time to catch Jinto looking completely baffled before he got with the program and waved frantically back at Rodney. “Uh-huh.” He thumbed his nose thoughtfully. “Didn’t know you and Jinto were such good friends.”

“What?” Rodney stiffened in his chair, eyes skipping nervously around the room for a moment before he lifted his chin defensively. “Well, yes, clearly we are. Very good friends.” He flushed when John eyed him with palpable disbelief. “I happen to be very fond of children.”

More convinced than ever that something was afoot, John folded his arms over his chest. “Is that right?”

“Yes, very, very fond! We, um, have a natural…bond and, uh, affinity.” Rodney nodded furiously to himself in confirmation of his speech. “Very, um….”

John couldn’t help the grin when Rodney trailed off, rather obviously running out of steam. “Natural?”

“Yes!” Rodney pointed a finger at John. “Exactly. Natural.” His eyes slid back to where Jinto was still hovering outside. “I’ve been….that is…while you’ve not been here during the day, I’ve been, um….”

His eyebrows shooting nearly to his hairline, John spluttered, “You’ve been playing with Jinto?”

“What? No! God, what kind of pervert do you think I am?” Looking torn between disgust and outrage, Rodney shoved back his chair and jumped to his feet and then realized that there might have been another more innocent meaning to John’s words. “Oh. Oh, you meant…not playing with him as in playing with him, but…Oh.” He flushed in mortification, avoiding John’s incredulous stare. “Um, yes, definitely that kind of playing. The non-molesting kind.”

Shaking his head to try and encourage his decidedly numb brain back into action, John muttered weakly, “Glad we cleared that up.” He squinted dubiously at Rodney. “So, what kind of stuff have you been doing?”

Rodney looked like a rabbit caught in oncoming headlights. “Pardon?” His mind raced as he tried to think of something plausibly childlike that John would buy. Somehow he didn’t think that playing hooky from the ranch and committing Grand Theft Auto was going to qualify.

“These games?” John circled a lazy hand in the air encouraging Rodney to expand on his explanation. “What kind are they? Soccer? Hide and Seek? Tag?”

“Yes!” Rodney nodded vigorously again. “Absolutely. All of them.”

Frowning, John said, “All of them?”

“Yes, yes. All of them. He’s very inventive. We hide and play soccer and, um….” Rodney trailed off and then brightened up again. “And then we do them all again. All day. We’re very busy.”

Looking slightly dazed, and not a little unconvinced, John nodded. “Okay.”

“And, obviously, he wants to do them all again now. Only he doesn’t realize that I’m not available, so I should just really go out there and tell him that I’m not…that is, you’re home now and clearly I shouldn’t be expected to run around with him when you’re here, so I should just, um….”

John blinked. “Go?”

“Exactly!” Rodney shoved his chair back, stabbed a finger of agreement at John and made a break for the door. “Be right back. Well, he may be a little upset, better make it ten minutes. Actually, twenty would be better. Ooof!” He reeled back when he ran straight into Ronon. “Good God, watch where you’re going, that hurt!” Shoving his way past the slightly winded bodyguard, Rodney tossed a wave back in John’s direction. “See you in half an hour!”

Ronon rubbed his abdomen where Rodney’s bony elbow had caught him and frowned after the departing scientist before glancing enquiringly at John. “Where’s he going?”

“To play soccer and hide and seek, apparently.” John got up and sauntered over to the window, just in time to see Rodney erupt out of the garden door and fetch Jinto a slap upside the head before berating him soundly with much waving of arms and rolling of eyes. “Jinto’s his new best friend.” He continued to watch through the glass when Jinto started to answer Rodney back and then both participants in the argument paused when they realized they were being observed before shooting panicked glances at each other and waving slightly manically at John. “Huh. That’s weird.”

Ronon drifted to his side and peered over his shoulder. “Didn’t think McKay liked kids.”

John didn’t take his eyes off the scene outside. “I didn’t think McKay liked anyone.” He watched when Rodney and Jinto both realized that John wasn’t going anywhere and then, after another sidelong look at each other, began to back up before abruptly turning on their heels and heading off at a brisk pace to the woods. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

Ronon shrugged and turned away to begin clearing up the detritus of John and Rodney’s shared dinner. “He’s starting to settle in. I think it’s good.”

John snorted, still staring suspiciously out of the window. “He’s about as far from settled as you can get. He jumps a mile whenever he sees me, and he barely says two words to anyone that I know of.

Ronon frowned at the mess Rodney had left behind and shrugged again. “He’s in hostile territory, surrounded by the enemy. Anyone would be a little jumpy.” He frowned harder at the mess. “Were you guys throwing food at each other?”

John finally looked away from the window, eyes snapping with anger. “Jesus, Ronon, you make it sound like he’s fighting a one man war. He’s living in the lap of luxury, doesn’t want for anything and I’ve spent thousands on getting him a new wardrobe. He’s not exactly suffering here.”

Ronon paused in trying to mop up the spilled water from the table and looked up. “He’s alone and scared and hasn’t got any friends. I think he’s doing pretty well. If he’s happy playing with Jinto then I say leave him alone, he’s gotta find someway to fill in the time during the day.”

Johns scowled, bristling at the subtle tone of accusation in Ronon’s voice. “He’s not here to enjoy himself. Have you forgotten what we’re doing here?”

Implacable, Ronon glowered back. “Nope. You?” He jerked his chin at the window, presumably to indicate Rodney. “He’s been here three weeks, haven’t seen you do anything about the situation with his father since we gave the story to the papers. The interest’s died down, McKay looked an idiot for a couple of days, but that was it. When are we gonna start stripping his companies? Exposing the under the table deals? Exposing him?”

An inscrutable look flashed over John’s face before he glanced back through the window and the direction Rodney had disappeared in. “It’s not the right time yet.”

Ronon slammed the plates he had just picked up back down onto the table with a clatter. “So when will be the right time?” He clenched his big fists, growling, “Just let Rodney go and let’s get on with the plan. We don’t need him. Let’s just go after his father like we planned and finish this.”

“No.” John shook his head in flat denial. “I’m not letting him go. He’s the key to ruining McKay.”

Grunting in frustration, Ronon snarled, “How? He even says himself that McKay doesn’t care about him. We’re not hurting him by doing this. He doesn’t care!”

John shook his head again. “No. He stays.” He looked back out of the window. “I can feel it in my gut. Rodney’s the key.”

Ronon snatched up the miraculously unbroken plates again. “He’s making you nuts. I don’t know what’s happened to you, Sheppard, but I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

John waited till Ronon had slammed from the room before frowning and murmuring to himself, “Me too.”

~*~*~*

John was still unsettled and annoyed the next day. Rodney had returned to the house over an hour later than he had originally said the previous evening, and had alternated between practically bouncing off the walls with manic energy and huddling with wary gloom on the sofa in the den, eyeing John like he was a combination of Genghis Khan and Hitler. Rodney’s behaviour had pushed John’s precarious hold on his temper to breaking point and it was all he could do not to throw the other man up against the nearest wall and force some answers out of him by whatever means proved necessary. Unfortunately, because he had told himself he wasn’t a complete bastard, John was forcing himself to keep his distance from Rodney, trying to allow the man some time and space to adjust to his new life before they progressed to the next stage of their relationship. If Rodney’s continuing belligerence and general suspicions of every single one of John’s motives when he tried to follow through with his good intentions were any indication, he wasn’t being particularly successful. And he definitely wouldn’t start to settle if John went with his instincts and started with the wall throwing. Dammit.

John was still eyeing Rodney with disgruntled mistrust over breakfast the next morning when the sound of pounding feet rapidly approaching the back door echoed through the air. “Rodney, Rodney!” Jinto burst into the kitchen, covered in head to toe with filth, his sneaker laces trailing dangerously and completely oblivious to the fact that Ronon and John were standing open mouthed by the coffee pot at the unheard of invasion of their privacy. “Rodney, you gotta come! I don’t know what to do, I…ow.” Jinto clutched at his shin and stumbled hastily back out of range and the way of another kick. “What’d you do that for? That hurt!” His eyes started to fill with tears, and then he frowned, arrested by the constipated look on Rodney’s purple face. “What’s wrong? Rodney?”

“Morning, Jinto.” John’s curious voice had the boy freezing with horror and adopting Rodney’s constipated expression. “Problem?”

“Mr. John!” Jinto spun in place like a top and stared with dismayed eyes at the two men looking at him narrowly. “Ronon!”

“Uh-huh.” John shot a sideways look at Ronon, grinning at the ferocious glare the taller man had adopted. “And you’re Jinto. So now we’re all sure of who we are, mind telling me what’s so important that you bust in here without knocking?”

Jinto’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, eyes darting between the two men. He took a step back when Ronon folded his arms over his chest and upped the wattage on his glare, yipping when he backed straight into Rodney still sitting at the table. “Homework! I have homework!”

“Homework?” John and Ronon exchanged disbelieving looks and looked back at Rodney and Jinto, both pale and panicked looking. “You have a homework emergency?”

Jinto, clearly as useless at subterfuge as Rodney, nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh.”

Ronon’s brows lowered ominously. “Aren’t you on a break?”

“Uh.” Jinto stared upwards at Ronon, eyes darting feverishly from side to side after a moment, clearly searching for inspiration. “Um.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” Rodney leapt to his feet, pulling Jinto back to his side and then moving so he was slightly in front of the boy and diverting John and Ronon’s attention to himself. “I wasn’t aware that a eight year old’s homework….”

Jinto scowled. “Nine!”

“Whatever.” Rodney glowered down at the child warningly and then looked defiantly back up at John and Ronon. “I wasn’t aware that a nine year old’s homework held such interest for you.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t aware it held an interest for you, either.”

“Well clearly it does.” Rodney swelled so hard with self-righteousness his feet very nearly left the floor, concluding pompously, “Education is a cause very near and dear to my heart. Whatever plebeian level a particular individual may be at.”

“Yeah.” Jinto nodded and looked up at Rodney with worshipful eyes. “Thanks, Rodney!”

Rodney sagged slightly and aimed a wan smile at Jinto. “Clearly there’s still some progress to be made.”

“Clearly.” John eyed the two with suspicion and then looked at Ronon to see if he had any ideas with how to proceed with the interrogation.

Ronon frowned, muttering blankly, “Rodney?”

Rodney beamed. “So. We’ll be off.” He shoved Jinto towards the door and tossed a nearly convincing jaunty salute over his shoulder. “Have a good day!”

John watched silently as the two exited the kitchen, eyes narrowed in thought and then turned to Ronon. “Okay. That? Weird.”

Ronon continued to frown. “Jinto just called him Rodney, right? Like…Rodney. Like a friend.” He looked at John and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. Something’s going on.”

Both men moved to the kitchen window and peered out to see Rodney and Jinto moving at breakneck speed towards the woods. John folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head. “Feel like a stroll before work?”

Ronon bared his teeth. “Thought you’d never ask.”

~*~*~*

Rodney looked in disbelief into the tree overhead and then looked down at Jinto, hopping anxiously from foot to foot at his side. “How…what….” Words apparently failed him and he shot another disbelieving look upwards before folding his arms and hissing at Jinto, “How the hell did that creature get up there?”

Jinto continued with his anxious hopping. “I don’t know!” He shot his own look up at the cat, saying accusingly, “He’s meant to be sick!”

Rodney looked upwards, meeting the cat’s narrowed amber eyes and getting hissed at for his trouble. “Yes, well, clearly he’s feeling a lot better.” He continued to stare in horrified amazement into the tree. “I don’t understand. He’s got a broken leg and was at death’s door yesterday, how is this possible?”

“Maybe…maybe he got a ladder or something.” Eager to contribute, Jinto plucked at Rodney’s sleeve. “He could be like, super smart or…or….”

“Oh shut up!” Rodney snatched his arm away from Jinto and clutched at his hair. “This is a disaster! What are we going to do?”

“About what?” The voice from behind them had Rodney and Jinto spinning round and then both freezing with horror when they saw Ronon and John standing before them, looking curious and – to Rodney’s appalled eyes – large and menacing. He swallowed noisily and almost gagged on his own spit when his throat locked up in terror.

John looked from Jinto to Rodney and then, when it was apparent that neither of the two miscreants were going to speak, looked incredulously at the cat with the bright pink plaster cast stuck up his favourite oak tree, yowling angrily. He looked back at Rodney again, taking note of his flushed face and defiant eyes. “Explain.”

Rodney seemed to come back to himself and gripped Jinto’s shoulder reassuringly before swiftly stooping to grab a reasonably thick branch off the floor and brandish it somewhat shakily at John and Ronon. “Get away! I’m not letting you shoot a helpless animal!”

Ronon choked back the laugh he could feel bursting up his throat, and nodded thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea.” He nudged his boss. “It’s one way to get it down.”

John rolled his eyes when Jinto cried out in protest and Rodney paled, swinging out with the branch again and nearly smacking himself in the head with his enthusiasm. “No one’s shooting the cat, okay? I just want to know where it came from. Whose is it?” He scratched his head in confusion as another thought occurred belatedly. “And why would I want to shoot it, anyway?”

Overwrought, it was all too much for Jinto, and he burst into wracking sobs. “He’s sick! He’s no use just like Carlo and you gotta shoot him if he ain’t no use, you said.”

John looked startled at the distraught outburst and took a step back, just as Rodney dredged up some more courage from somewhere and yelled furiously, “And I’m not going to let you kill an animal just because you think it’s more trouble than it’s worth to help it! I’ll…I’ll die first.”

Smirking, Ronon nudged John’s side with a careless elbow. “This getting some exercise before work thing was a great idea. We should do this every morning.” He looked at the wailing Jinto and hyperventilating Rodney with an amused eye. “So, you want me to go get the shotgun now or wait for McKay to try and beat us down first?”

“Shut up.” John glared at his friend when Jinto’s cries reached whole new heights of urgency and Rodney yelped and swung out with the stick again. “Jinto, buddy, no one’s shooting the cat, okay? Rodney, put that thing down before you do some damage. And, Ronon?” For the first time since entering the little clearing to find Rodney, Jinto and the cause of their sudden inexplicable bonding, John looked cheerful. “You get up the tree and fetch the damn cat.”

~*~*~*

Half an hour later and something approaching normality had once more settled over the ranch. Jinto had been returned to his bemused father – with John giving his foreman strict instructions to explain to his son the difference between necessary euthanasia to end the agony of an injured animal and John ordering the death willy-nilly of beloved pets – Ronon had retreated to the kitchen to nurse his savaged skin where the cat had objected strenuously to being rescued, and Rodney had been frog-marched back to the house and John’s study to explain himself and his actions after Jinto had, rather selfishly in Rodney’s opinion, confessed all at the height of his emotional meltdown in the woods.

And for some inexplicable reason the damn cat had swiped out at anyone who’d even attempted to go near it and attached itself firmly to Rodney with the same single-mindedness that it had previously attached itself to the tree.

“So.” John looked narrowly between the cat hissing at him from Rodney’s arms and then at the man himself. “You’ve been sneaking around behind my back.”

Petrified, Rodney stared back at John and hugged the cat tighter to him. While he was sure that Jinto’s love for the animal would safeguard the cat’s well being from John, he had no such guarantees for himself. Now that John knew the whole story – thanks to Jinto, complete with daring car theft – Rodney couldn’t even begin to imagine what punishment might be in store for him for his actions. “Yes.” He made himself meet John’s eyes, hoping that he didn’t look as terrified as he felt. “I…I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.” John slowly leaned back in his chair and laced his hands together over his stomach. He stared again at the cat, raising one eyebrow dubiously when its ears went back and it hissed again at him. “Was it worth it?”

Rodney stared hypnotised at John’s hands, his always-overactive mind helpfully supplying pictures of just how much damage they could do to him if he really had pushed things too far. He looked up at John miserably. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going to happen now. ” Feeling hunted and, more worryingly, totally cornered, Rodney raised his chin in one last show of defiance. “Look, whatever you’re going to do, can you just get it over with please? As much as I’m sure you’re enjoying the psychological torture, I’m sure you’ll get more gratification out of the actual punishment so just…get on with it.”

For a brief moment, John looked completely thrown by the shaky challenge and then his eyes narrowed. “Well, I don’t know, McKay, this is pretty serious here. Maybe I need to take some time to think about it.” His face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, but Rodney wasn’t so fortunate. Every single emotion he was experiencing – terror the most obvious of all – displayed itself with aching clarity across his face and he was fighting a very obvious battle with his own body to remain where he was and not bolt for the door at the low, threatening tone in John’s voice.

John studied him from under lowered lashes as he made a pretence of inspecting his fingernails, and tried to take pleasure in the paling of Rodney’s skin and the fine trembling of his body at the continued malevolent silence. This was what he wanted, dammit. Rodney McKay at his mercy, watching his every move with unease, never knowing when the hammer was going to fall. John watched as Rodney hunched miserably over his cat, obviously scared out of his mind, but determined to face up to whatever he thought was coming because he knew if he didn’t then it might not be only him that suffered for it. John stood abruptly and stalked over to the window, in desperate need of air all of a sudden and ignoring the choked off gasp of alarm from Rodney’s direction.

What the hell was the matter with him? This moment had been years in the making. Countless dollars had been spent on ruining the McKay family and bringing them to their knees, and then, when he actually had the power to make one of them literally grovel and beg on bended knee for mercy he…couldn’t. John turned, placing his back against the window and knowing that Rodney couldn’t possibly see his expression thanks to the morning sun at his back. He studied the man before him, taking note of the bowed shoulders and miserable set to his jaw, but also the despondent bravery that kept him glued to his chair awaiting whatever John was going to do to him. Ignoring the whisper of his conscience, John dropped his hands deliberately to his belt and hooked his thumbs into the buckle, waiting to see how Rodney would react or even if he’d pick up on the subtle threat. John wasn’t disappointed.

Rodney stared for a split second of disbelief at where John’s hands now rested, one thumb stroking idly across the heavy silver fastening of the supple leather, before he jumped to his feet and backed away, holding the cat clasped to his chest like a piece of armour. “No! That’s insane, you can’t mean to…I didn’t think…you can’t be serious!”

“No?” John’s drawl was cool, taunting in its casualness. “What can’t I do, McKay? I own your ass, remember? You belong to me. Seems to me I can do pretty much anything I want to you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“This is barbaric!” Eyes glued to John’s waist, Rodney back-pedalled as fast as he could towards the door. “I’ve done nothing wrong, you can’t do this!” He jumped as he crashed back into the wooden panel of the study door, and then abruptly switched tactics. “Okay, yes, so technically I did something wrong. I took your car without your permission, but you’ve got loads of them. Dozens probably! Its not like you even missed it, there’s not a mark on it. I was trying to help, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, don’t do this, please.”

John swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, his long anticipated moment of triumph tasting like ashes in his mouth. “Come here, McKay.”

“No!” Rodney clumsily switched the cat to a one armed hold, trying to fumble behind him for the doorknob even as the cat yowled and wriggled in protest. “You must think I’m as crazy as you! I’m not going to willingly submit to being…being abused just because…”

“Because I own you, your family and your friends?” John fought against the rising tide of nausea in his gut at his own actions, something inside forcing him to see just how far he could push this. To see how far, and what Rodney would take, to safeguard those he cared for. “Kinda think you will. One phone call, Rodney, and I can have Teyla or Radek on the next plane home. Ruined, disgraced. They’ll be lucky to get work sweeping halls in the local tech college by the time I’m through.”

Rodney’s breath caught in his throat. If John had used anyone else, any member of his family, he would have been out the door and heading for the hills so fast he’d have left friction burns on the wooden floor, but…his friends. People who had done nothing to get dragged into the mess that was his life but simply be his friends. He closed his eyes in despair. Oh god, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.”

John’s hands fell away from his belt in shock when he saw a hard shudder pass through Rodney’s body and then, as though he was on automatic pilot, Rodney bent to gently place the cat on the floor by his feet and took a shaky step back towards the centre of the room. Slowly, with leaden steps and wide, shocky eyes Rodney walked towards John, trembling noticeably in every line of his body and skin dangerously pale as he forced himself to move forward. Finally he stood two feet away from John, eyes staring fixedly ahead and focused unseeingly on the buttons of John’s shirt. “You…” The frightened croak died in Rodney’s throat and he had to swallow several times to work up the saliva necessary to speak. “I bruise easily, don’t forget. I…it’s very easy to tear my skin. I…I’m not sure how…I don’t know how badly I could be injured. No one’s…no one’s ever…hit me before.” He swallowed again, whispering bitterly, “If you go too far, I may need medical attention. I’m sure you don’t want any awkward questions being asked.”

Swallowing hard himself, but mainly to keep from throwing up everything he’d eaten that morning, John found himself nodding. “Good point.” He stared, horrified, at the hopelessly resigned man before him. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want any questions.” Silence stretched between them for long moments and then John raised a hand, freezing when Rodney flinched away before he could stop himself. “McKay. McKay, look at me.” He frowned when Rodney continued to stare at his shirt and barked impatiently, “I said look at me!”

Rodney raised his eyes to John’s face with obvious effort, but far from being filled with terror and tears, as John was half expecting, they burned with loathing and hatred for him, contempt practically sizzling the air between them.

John found it difficult to meet the accusing blue that seemed to burn straight through him, but somehow he kept his face impassive and his voice didn’t betray any of the emotions currently making his gut roil inside him. “I don’t hit. Ever. No matter what.”

For a moment he thought that he’d pushed Rodney too far and the man was incapable of understanding what was being said to him in his overwrought state, then Rodney frowned slowly. “I…” He licked dry lips, eyes darting down to John’s belt and then back up to his face again. “You’re not going to…hit me?”

“No.” John shook his head, some small part of him needing Rodney to believe him more than he would have dreamed possible. “I told you, you’re safe here with me. I won’t hurt you.”

Rodney’s frown deepened. “But…you said.” He gestured nervously with one hand towards John’s waist. “You said you were going to…”

“No, yousaid. I just went along with it.” John raked expressionless eyes over Rodney’s rapidly whitening face. “I wanted to see what you’d do. How far you’d go.”

“How far I’d go?” Incredulously Rodney stared at his tormentor, and then planted both hands and shoved John into the window behind him with a crash that nearly shattered the pane. “How far I’d go? Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to do that to me? I thought…I thought…”Rodney gulped frantically for air, seemingly unaware of John’s hands gripping his biceps and trying to shove him away when Rodney slammed him against the window again. “My god, that’s beyond cruelty, even for you. What you did…that was pure evil. I am not a…a…a lab rat for you to experiment on as you see fit. I’m a person, you had no right to do that to me!”

“McKay!” Shocked as hell at Rodney’s physical attack on him, John fumbled clumsily to restrain the other man. “McKay, quit it. Stop!”

“No, you stop!” Yelling with fury when John shackled one of his wrists with hard fingers, Rodney twisted madly to free himself, pushed past the point of caring about the consequences while he rode the white-hot blaze of righteous anger inside him. “Stop playing with me like this! I haven’t done anything, this isn’t right!”

John grunted when Rodney jabbed him in the ribs with a bony elbow and then somehow managed to capture his wildly flailing arm and spin him so that he faced away from John. From there it was relatively simple to yank Rodney’s body back against his and wrap his arms tightly around the other man’s straining torso, pinning his arms to his sides so that all Rodney was capable of doing was bucking furiously against him and tossing his head while his feet and legs kicked in futile bids for freedom. John found it was much harder to restrain Rodney than he’d been anticipating. Although a determined and thankful stranger to organised physical exercise, Rodney evidently had a great deal of natural strength hidden in his stocky frame, and it was a close call who would win the physical battle between them with Rodney bolstered by the sudden surge of adrenalin John’s cruel game had caused.

“McKay, just quit it! You’re going to hurt yourself.” John grunted when Rodney’s head flew back and he caught a glancing blow on the chin. “Christ, I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t have played you like that.”

“Get off me!” Rodney bucked again. “Off! Get off!”

John gritted his teeth and yanked back with his arms as hard as he could, forcing the air out of Rodney’s lungs. “Just calm down and I’ll let you go, alright? Just calm down.” He forced his grip to tighten when Rodney gasped for air and tried to twist against him, and then spoke in a calm drawl when the unexpected fight in Rodney seemed to drain just as quickly as it had arrived. “Okay, I’m going to let you go now. Just...keep calm.” Warily, John slowly relaxed his hold, alert to any signs of Rodney turning on him again, but when he edged out from between Rodney and the window it was apparent that the other man had nothing more left in him. Flushed and panting for air, Rodney stood staring at the floor, his bowed head and neck rigid with misery. John tilted his head and tried to catch Rodney’s eyes. “McKay, you with me? McKay?”

“Have you had your pound of flesh for the day?” Rodney turned his head firmly away, arms wrapped protectively around his chest and fists clenched tight to his side.

John frowned. “What?” He reached out to touch Rodney’s shoulder and hurriedly snatched his hand back when Rodney jerked away and turned hate filled blue eyes on him.

“I said, have you had your pound of flesh today?” Almost spitting the words and shaking with emotion, Rodney’s whole face blazed defiance. “I’m pretty sure there’s a couple of square inches somewhere on my torso that you haven’t bruised so if you’d like another crack at it…well, as you so joyfully pointed out, you own my ass, right?”

“Hey, you attacked me, remember?” Still shaken himself by their recent battle, John took refuge in his own anger. “You’re lucky that a couple of bruises is all you got.”

Rodney laughed bitterly. “Yes, believe me, I count my blessings regularly every day since I met you.” He raised a hand and began to tick points off on his fingers mockingly. “Still alive? Check! Not yet been violated horribly? Check!” He glared at John and dropped his hand. “Doesn’t take long does it?”

John swallowed, fighting a sudden surge of nausea. “McKay….”

“Save it.” Rodney shook his head and backed away from John, eyes burning with the effort of holding back angry tears. “I asked you if we were done here?”

John opened his mouth, to say he what he didn’t know and then found himself watching redundantly when Rodney continued to back away. His mouth snapped shut and he nodded sharply. “Yeah, we’re done.” He gritted his teeth when Rodney paused by the forgotten cat, hesitant to pick it up but obviously equally hesitant to leave it alone with John. “Take the goddamned cat and get out of here, okay?” He felt a surge of anger when Rodney jumped and hurriedly bent to scoop up the cat, holding it protectively to his chest and bowing his head over the furry body. “You take care of it. Anything happens to it, you explain it to Jinto.”

Rodney froze on his way to door. “What?” He stared at John and then down at the cat. “No, I can’t possibly! I’ve never looked after an animal before, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

John laughed spitefully. “Yeah? Well you tell me you’re a genius, figure it out.” Feeling more balanced at the incredulous look on Rodney’s face, John laughed again. “That’s one of life’s lessons that you McKays just can’t seem to grasp, huh? Actions have consequences. You wanted to act the big man; you deal with the fall out. The cat’s yours, have fun.”

Rodney’s mouth opened and shut in speechless disbelief.

John dealt his final card mercilessly. “It’s that or the pound, McKay, and we all know what happens to sick animals there.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt and rocked back on his heels, whistling through his teeth. “Man, I sure wouldn’t want to explain to Jinto that his little buddy got put down because the great Rodney McKay….”

“Alright!” Rodney clutched the cat to him, eyes filled with loathing when he looked at John. “Alright, you’ve made your point. I’ll do it.” He glanced down at the cat and then back up at John, chin lifting in challenge. “I can do anything I put my mind to, I’m sure I can work out how to look after one dumb animal.” He turned for the door and then paused, unable to resist a parting shot. “And if I have any queries I can always ask Ronon for some tips.”

The door had slammed shut in his wake before John fully registered he had just been insulted. “Just never knows when to quit.”

Love's Tangled Web 5

Fri, 05 Jan 2007 01:17:40 GMT

~*~*~*

“Well,” Carson leaned back in his chair and looked across his desk at the two men seated side by side before him. “From my initial examination I’d say you seem to be in reasonable health, Rodney.”

Rodney glared sullenly at the doctor, shifting in his chair and trying to remember that with John sitting next to him soaking up every word he really needed to try and behave himself. “Really? You’d think with the amazing amount of blood you’ve removed from my body, I’d at least be showing some signs of the extreme anaemia you’ve no doubt caused.”

“Rodney!” Startled at Rodney’s continuing belligerence to Carson, especially considering the passive way he had endured the their extended shopping trip beforehand, John turned to him angrily. “Will you quit it? What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“John, it’s fine.” Carson waved his friend silent and smiled warmly at Rodney. “I’d guess you’ve not had much in the way of good experiences with some of my colleagues, Rodney?” He glanced down at the thick file on his desk, fingers ruffling the edges of the pages within. “And from the sounds of it, they’ve not much enjoyed things on their end either.”

Rodney snorted, turning his head away. He felt nervous and out of sorts already, his default setting anyway whenever he forced himself to visit anyone in the medical profession, and the fact that he had been told in no uncertain terms by John that this visit would be a chaperoned one was not helping him settle down at all. He darted a resentful glare at the man beside him and tried to force himself to calm down a little. He was fairly sure that he was already in trouble enough for his behaviour since they had arrived at Carson’s offices and he was just in control enough to know that he didn’t want to make matters worse when John finally got him alone.

“Now, Rodney’s given his permission for you to be here for this John, so I’m assuming that I can speak candidly to both of you?” Carson looked between the two men for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. “Good. Well, obviously the most pressing matter for concern is your blood pressure, Rodney. You’re well above the safety range for a man of your age and we need to do something about getting it down to a more acceptable reading. Based just on my observations today I’d say you are over-stressed and tired, and nearing the ceiling of your physical reserves for dealing with day to day life at the moment.”

John frowned. “Wait a minute, I thought you said he was healthy?”

Smiling again, Carson said gently, “I said Rodney was in reasonable health, John.” He looked at Rodney, still sitting with his arms crossed over his chest and scowling belligerently at the floor. “I think with all the excitement you two have had recently, Rodney’s not kept on top of things as he should health wise.” He coughed delicately. “And perhaps you’ve not been as careful as you should be when you’ve been…intimate, considering the complications that Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome can bring to a physical relationship.”

John felt himself flush, recalling the shocked looks he had received from some of the tailors who had measured Rodney for clothes when they had seen the still livid bruises covering his arms. “Yeah, that won’t happen again.” He glanced at Rodney, muttering, “I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

Unable to help himself, Rodney snorted disbelievingly.

Carson coughed again, hiding a grin behind his hand. “Aye, well, anyone else and I’d be worried, but knowing you as I do John, I think I’ll rest easy tonight knowing that Rodney’s been the victim of some over-enthusiastic groping and hope you’ll be more careful in future.”

Rodney stared in disbelief at Carson and mentally downgraded him from dubious quack with questionable scientific knowledge to complete blithering idiot.

John stopped himself shifting guiltily in his seat and nodded sharply, shame flooding him at his friend’s unjustified faith in him. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Carson beamed at the pair. “Now, I’ve taken some blood today just for my own records and to satisfy myself on a few minor inconsistencies and contradictory findings in Rodney’s history, but I don’t foresee there being anything major to worry over. You’ll need to remember that when you’re alone together to be a little more careful in some of your activities than you would normally, but I think as long as you stay aware of the potential problems you should have a fulfilling and healthy private life.”

John frowned. “Yeah.” He looked at Rodney suspiciously and then at Carson. “Potential problems?”

Carson looked startled for a moment and then glanced at Rodney’s wooden and blushing face. “Well, Rodney refused to allow me to do a complete physical examination, so I can’t be sure that this isn’t a concern already, but, well I assume that he’s told you that penetration with his physical condition can occasionally be problematic?” He gestured between them uncomfortably. “There’s the elevated risk of tearing and….”

“Yes, yes!” Rodney jumped to his feet, scarlet with mortification and anger. “We get the picture. Of course I told him. Do I look like some kind of masochist to you?”

Reeling mentally, John climbed to his feet and laid a calming hand on Rodney’s quivering arm. “Okay, Rodney, that’s enough.” He narrowed his eyes warningly when Rodney opened his mouth to protest and said with firm emphasis, “Enough.” He waited to make sure he was obeyed before turning to Carson, who for the first time was starting to look discomforted and aware that things were maybe not as they seemed. “Look, Carson, I think we should be heading out. Obviously Rodney needs to get some rest and unless you can think of anything else we need to know, then we’ll wait for your tests to come back and catch up with you when we come back to get the results.”

Carson frowned, looking between the two tense men with sharp eyes. “John, is everything alright? Is there something going on here I should know about?”

Mustering his most charming and harmless grin, John shook his head. “Nah.” He moved the hand still on Rodney’s arm to curl around his rigid shoulders. “I think we’ve just had enough for one day, you know?” He pressed a light kiss to Rodney’s temple. “And I guess I hadn’t really taken on board just how seriously I needed to treat this thing Rodney has. It’s kinda thrown me.”

Carson looked at Rodney and lifted his eyebrows sceptically. “Rodney?”

Rodney stared back for a moment before looking away and at the floor, muttering, “I want to go.”

“And what my man wants, my man gets.” John winked at Carson and turned Rodney towards the door. “Thanks for seeing us at such short notice, Carson. I’ll give you a call next week and we’ll get together for lunch.”

“John, wait!” Carson dodged out from behind his desk and followed the two men out of the room, almost trotting in their wake as John moved them at haste towards the elevator and the exit. “John!”

John hustled Rodney inside the elevator, smiling at the startled looking receptionist and his flustered looking friend. “Next week, Carson.” He let go of Rodney and waved when the doors began to slide shut. “I’ll call you.” The doors closed on Carson’s final call of his name, and John turned to Rodney who was already huddled up against the elevator wall and eyeing him nervously. “That’s why you haven’t slept with anyone, isn’t it? Your condition.”

Rodney blinked, unsure what to say at the mild manner of John’s tone when he asked the question. He held the other man’s gaze for a few seconds before looking away, his jaw clenching in humiliation and displeasure.

John watched him while the elevator descended, taking in the tense body and tight features of Rodney’s face, and then when the elevator pinged quietly and the doors slid open once more, followed Rodney when he hurtled out into the underground parking and practically sprinted to where Ronon stood waiting by their car. They didn’t speak again until they were well past the downtown traffic of the city and on their way to the farm and then John pressed the button to raise the screen between them and Ronon’s watchful eyes and said quietly, “McKay, look at me.” He sighed in annoyance when Rodney flinched and huddled further up against the car door, repeating, “McKay. Look at me.”

Slowly, and with infinite reluctance, Rodney stiffly turned to face him, eyes filled with hatred and resentment. “What?”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You shouldn’t be ashamed of something you have no control over.” John’s hand twitched as though he was about to reach out and then he clenched it into a fist and pressed it hard against his thigh. “It’s better that I know about it.”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed, face still burning with angry colour. “Yes, I suppose from your point of view it is. Just think, yet another way for you to get your jollies taunting me. I’m so feeble I can’t even contemplate sex without doing myself a serious injury!”

John jerked in surprise. “What? No! Christ, McKay, stop putting words in my mouth. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh please,” Rodney rolled his eyes and crossed his arms defensively over his chest in a gesture John was becoming to really loathe. “I know exactly how people like you see people like me. Just because of a small physical disadvantage you think you can push us around, make us feel small and inadequate, push us into doing stuff we don’t want to do-“

“I do not!” Furious, John slammed his fist down onto the leather upholstery between them.

“Ha! Yes, yes you do!” Triumphantly, Rodney flapped his hands. “That’s all you’ve done since I’ve met you! Clearly you’re more like my father than you even dreamed possible!”

John opened his mouth to retort angrily and then paused, frowning. “Your father used to make fun of you for being sick?” His brow furrowed further when Rodney’s mouth snapped shut and he pressed back into his seat looking annoyed and defensive. “That’s why you’ve got such a problem with doctors? Your dad used to make fun of you for being sick, didn’t he?”

Rodney turned his face away to stare out of the window, muttering sullenly, “I’m not sick. I just have a condition.”

“And Terence fucking McKay made you pay for it, huh?” John eyed the back of Rodney’s bristling head, his face softening for a moment before it smoothed back into it’s usual unreadable lines. “How old were you when you got diagnosed?” He sighed in exasperation when Rodney twitched and tried to press further away from him. “McKay, just answer the goddamned question.”

There was a long pause before Rodney hissed resentfully, “Three. They finally worked out what was wrong with me when I was three years old. Happy now? Then years of him dragging me to every idiotic charlatan with MD after his name commenced, and I got to be poked and prodded and tortured on a regular basis all through my childhood because he couldn’t endure everyone knowing that his son and heir was born defective.” Rodney’s head snapped round and he glared at John, finishing vindictively, “So don’t begin to think that you and the man mountain are the only ones my father’s made miserable over the years, Sheppard. You ought to have tried being the warm-up act.”

The rest of the drive home was conducted in frigid silence.

~*~*~*

The first three weeks of Rodney’s new life with John passed, to his never-ending surprise, completely uneventfully. Half expecting to be beaten to a bloody pulp and/or raped to within an inch of his life the moment they set foot in the door after their return from the appointment with Carson Beckett, Rodney had found himself pointed towards his shared bedroom with Sheppard, ordered to get some rest and to eat the meal that Ronon would bring to him and then…was firmly left alone. Despite jumping like a cat on hot bricks at every sound for the rest of that tortuously long day, Rodney eventually passed out from stress and nervous exhaustion on the couch in front of the large bedroom TV at about midnight and woke up five hours later with a crick in his neck and a fleecy blanket covering his still clothed body to protect him against the night air. And John Sheppard conspicuously absent.

Baffled at his continued chasteness, Rodney spent another day jumping at shadows and flinching at every sound before Ronon, who had followed him around like a large silent guard dog from the moment he got up, deigned to inform him that John had left for California before dawn that morning and wouldn’t be back for over a week. Oh, and Ronon had orders to lock Rodney in the basement if he tried to make a run for it in John’s absence.

Rodney was nearly positive that passed for a joke in Ronon’s world.

Just after the start of week two John had returned and Rodney had gone straight back to red alert status, but other than coolly enquiring after his health and asking if he needed anything, John had shown no interest in him at all and had joined him in their bed that night with no more than a curt goodnight and then promptly rolled over and gone to sleep.

Rodney had his suspicions that John shared Ronon’s supposed sense of humour.

It wasn’t that he wanted to John to start enforcing his dubious marital rights, obviously. In fact Rodney was still regularly jerking awake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and flailing his fists wildly as he fought off the nightmare John of his dreams and tried desperately to protect his threatened honour. No matter how much John kept his distance or pointedly did not so much as accidentally brush against Rodney if they passed too closely to each other, Rodney still could not forget the reason he was in Colorado Springs in the first place. He watched John, when he was home, with suspicion, ever ready to duck and cover if the other man’s icy façade cracked even slightly, but it never did. Week three started with John informing him over a rare shared dinner one night that Ronon would be taking his accustomed place at John’s side from the following morning and from now on Rodney would be left to his own devices at the ranch during the day - and, seriously, don’t make a run for it because…basement.

Rodney, for the first time in his life, started to seriously plot another man’s death. And made a mental note to check out whether John actually possessed a basement at the first available opportunity. The plans for John’s impending demise were shelved when it was discovered there was indeed a basement and it was fitted with a ostentatiously shiny new lock and padlock on the outside of the door.

So at the end of week three Rodney found himself with the freedom of the ranch, still very much a virgin and bored, bored, bored. Emphasis on the bored. Which was the only possible reason that he found himself following a suspiciously behaving Jinto into the woods behind the house one morning during a school break, determined to discover why the filthy little urchin was sneaking about and dodging his father and the other ranch hands with single minded determination.

Irritated, scratched by branches and with mud all over his expensive shoes and the hem of his new pants that John had remained insistent he wore, Rodney eventually found himself outside a ramshackle wooden shed, nearly hidden from view by the thick undergrowth surrounding it. He scowled as he snuck closer to the shed, rubbing at the back of one hand absently when he caught the sound of a childish voice from within raised in a high pitched whine and broken by what sounded like the occasional sob. Casting a quick glance back over his shoulder to check that he was still alone, Rodney placed one hand on the rickety wooden door to shove it open and burst inside, yelling triumphantly, “A-HA!”

“Aaargh!” Jinto jumped up like he’d been shot from where he was crouched on the floor and whirled to face Rodney with an expression of terror on his predictably grimy face and his arms stretched wide in an attempt to conceal whatever he had been crying over. “Mr. McKay!”

Rodney hadn’t thought much beyond the initial moment of surprise when he confronted Jinto and so was rather embarrassed to realize all he had to offer next was a rather weaker, “A-ha!” He rallied when Jinto continued to stare at him in terrified confusion and stabbed an accusing finger at the boy, “What are you doing in here? Is it drugs? It’s drugs, isn’t it?”

Jinto blinked. “What? No!” He glared at Rodney, sniffing back a silver trail that was starting to edge from one nostril. “Drugs are bad. I learned that at school!”

“Ha!” Rodney tried to peer around Jinto and was stymied when the child moved so his view was still blocked to whatever was on the floor. “You can’t fool me, I know you’re up to something. I’ve watched you every morning for the past three days sneaking down here and…you’re doing drugs.”

“I am NOT!” Jinto flushed with temper and yelled back, “Drugs make you weird and stupid and….” He paused and eyed Rodney warily, evidently struck by an idea. “Are you doing drugs?” He frowned. “Mr. John won’t like that. He’ll be really pi…annoyed.”

Rodney flinched at the mention of John’s name and then appeared to realize that he’d just been insulted, albeit in a round about sort of way. “I am not weird and stupid, you revolting little ingrate. Apologize immediately! And for your information, Mr. John can kiss my….” An unearthly yowl of pain suddenly filled the air and Rodney and Jinto both jumped in surprise. “What the hell was that?”

“Nuthin’!” Jinto tried to puff himself up to block Rodney when he tried to peer past him again. “Go away! This is my place! No!” He stumbled when Rodney shoved him abruptly aside and frantically tried to tug him back when Rodney got his first good look at what he had been hiding. “Stop it! Go away!”

Rodney irritably shook off Jinto’s hands and stared in disbelief at the box, which held a shivering, scraggy tabby cat lying on what appeared to be a bit of burlap sack. “What on earth is that?” His nose wrinkled up in distaste at the odour wafting from the animal, and he took a step back in sudden concern. “Good grief, what’s wrong with it? Is it contagious? Do you have any idea of the diseases you can pick up from feral creatures?” His eyes widened when he looked more closely at the increasingly distressed boy. “Oh my God, what’s wrong with you? Did it bite you? Good God, it bit you. You’ve got rabies!”

“I do not!” Not in the least sure what rabies was, but pretty damn clear he didn’t have it anyway, Jinto dragged his sleeve under his dripping nose and scowled up at Rodney. “And he didn’t bite me.” A small lip wobbled tremulously. “He’s real sick because he hurt his leg, and I hid him out here so Mr. John wouldn’t call the vet and have him come out here and shoot him like he did Carlo.”

Rodney’s heart missed a beat. “What?” He backed up a couple of steps, eyes darting nervously from side to side, searching for any evidence of shallow graves and recent massacres of innocents that might have crossed John Sheppard’s path. “Who shot who?”

Jinto sniffed again. “Carlo. He hurt his leg, and Mr. John said that he wasn’t any use no more so they had to shoot him.” Tears streaked faster down his grimy cheeks. “Then they loaded him up in a big truck and took him away and I never saw him again. He was my favourite and I used to sneak him apples when no one was looking but I didn’t even get to say goodbye and he musta thought that I didn’t care about him and then they sh-shot hi-hi-him.”

Rodney winced as Jinto ended his garbled explanation on a high-pitched wail, and realised that in all probability the Carlo in question was unlikely to be some poor itinerant ranch hand, and almost certainly some kind of animal. He edged closer to Jinto again and tried to find a reasonably clean area to pat him on. “Uh, there, there.” He gave up on trying to find anywhere clean on Jinto’s upper body, and gingerly, if somewhat heavy handedly, patted him on the head. He staggered back as Jinto took his reluctant attempt at physical comfort far more literally than he had intended, and he found himself trying to keep his balance with a sticky, crying nine year old wrapped around his thighs. “Get off me! Stop that! Get off!” He finally managed to pry Jinto off, and held him away at arms length with a firm grip. “Never, ever do that again, do you understand me?” Jinto manfully sniffed back another sob and nodded his head. “Good.” Rodney kept a cautious eye on the child in case he decided to throw himself back into Rodney’s arms when he was released and let him go with a grimace of distaste. “God, why couldn’t it have been drugs?”

Jinto wiped his nose on his sleeve, muttering sullenly, “Because drugs are bad.” He glowered at Rodney defiantly. “And you are weird and stupid. A lot!”

Deciding to be the bigger man, Rodney glared down his nose at Jinto and gestured to the cat. “But I think you’ll find I happen to be weird and stupid with money, which is what you need if you want to stop your…thing dying.”

Jinto froze, eyes widening with surprise. “You…you’re going to help me? You aren’t going to tell?”

Looking just as surprised himself, Rodney nodded in reluctant confirmation. “Apparently so. Ah!” He pointed a finger at Jinto in warning when another emotional embrace looked in the offing and hissed, “Don’t even think about it.” He looked down at the miserable looking cat, his heart already starting to thump in his chest at the risk he was about to take, but if there was even a chance that Jinto was correct and the sick animal would be destroyed by John without an attempt to save it…well, not if Rodney McKay had anything to do with it.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do.” Rodney looked nervously over his shoulder at the door, and then down at Jinto’s sticky face. “You are going to come with me and we are getting this creature to a vet. Ah!” He held up a quelling hand when Jinto started to protest, and glared warningly. “Yes we are.” He darted another look back at the door. “But we’re not going to tell anyone.”

“We’re not?” Jinto stared with huge eyes at Rodney. “Not even my dad?”

“God, no!” Rodney, suspicious to the core, hunched his shoulders up around his ears and refused to think about the possibilities of Halling not only being John’s genial ranch foreman, but also his genial chief spy in residence and senior jailer in Ronon’s absence. “We have, what, two hours before lunch?”

Jinto checked the Hellboy watch on his wrist and shrugged. “Three, maybe. My dad won’t look for me before one o’ clock. He’ll just think I’m playing in one of the far paddocks or the woods.”

“Excellent.” Slightly more confident, Rodney bounced lightly on his toes and his face flushed with cautious enthusiasm. “Then all we have to do is steal a car, leave the ranch without anyone seeing us, find a vet that won’t know you and be back here in under three hours. It’ll be tight, but doable.”

“We’re going to steal a car?” Jinto gaped at Rodney incredulously. “For real? Won’t Mr. John be mad at you?”

Rodney suppressed a shudder, and lifted his chin bravely. “What Mr. John doesn’t know, won’t hurt me.” He gestured impatiently at Jinto. “Now come on, pick up the box and follow me.” He narrowed his eyes when Jinto wavered. “Or do you actually want your rancid little friend to die in horrible, wracking pain knowing that you could have saved him but were too chicken to do so?”

Jinto narrowed his own eyes. “I’m not chicken!” He bent and carefully picked up the box, his lip trembling as the cat yowled in protest. “I don’t want him to die.”

Rodney reached out and stroked one finger over the cat’s head, mouth turning down in helpless distress at the animal’s pain. “He won’t.” He patted Jinto’s shoulder gingerly. “Come on. We have to go.”

Jinto edged through the doorway behind Rodney, blinking in the bright sunlight streaming through the trees and trying not to jostle his cargo. “Are we really going to steal a car? I thought that when you got married and stuff, then you had to share everything. Mr. John’s got some really cool stuff, and he always shares real nice with me. Sometimes he even gives me the stuff for keeps.”

“How wonderful.” Rodney stomped along the path leading back to the house, sweating heavily and eyes tracking feverishly from side to side looking for possible attempts to highjack him and force him back into the house and his exciting new persona as John Sheppard’s personal soon-to-be concubine. “He truly is a prince amongst men.”

Jinto may have been only nine but he wasn’t stupid. He trotted awkwardly to Rodney’s side and squinted warily up at him. “Are you mad at Mr. John?” He stumbled over an uneven bit of ground and bobbled the box for a moment until he caught his balance, making the cat yowl weakly again in protest. “You sound mad.”

Rodney rolled his eyes when Jinto stumbled again and reluctantly slipped a steadying hand under the boy’s nearest arm. “Of course I’m not mad at him. What a ridiculous thing to say.” He glanced down at the small snort of disbelief from his companion and belatedly realised that his biting tone wasn’t exactly overflowing with fondness and affection for the absent object of their discussion. He scowled and muttered resentfully, “I’m married to the man, aren’t I? You don’t marry people that you’re mad at.”

Jinto’s pace faltered for a moment before he managed to catch himself. “I dunno, you could be like my mom and dad. She was pretty mad all the time, that’s why she left.” He glanced unhappily up at Rodney as they broke free of the trees and began to sneak around the side of the house. “If you stay mad, are you gonna leave too?”

This time it was Rodney who stumbled, but not through any physical misstep, his stumble was due entirely to the tidal wave of sheer longing at the thought of walking out of John Sheppard’s life and never clapping eyes on the infernal man again He took a deep breath to steady himself and opened his mouth to snap at Jinto and then found himself caught by the look of remembered misery and residue fear in the little boy’s eyes at the mention of his mother. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.” He flattened his back against the wall of the house and peeped cautiously around the corner at the driveway, scowling harder at the sound of a stifled sniffle when Jinto plainly disbelieved his less than reassuring statement. Once he had convinced himself the way to car theft and temporary freedom was clear, Rodney glanced down at his unlikely criminal sidekick and was alarmed to see a lone tear once more trickling down the child’s face. “For God’s sake, what’s the matter with you now? We’re taking your pestilent little friend to get some help and I’ve just told you that I’m not mad at Mr. John. I’m not leaving, okay?”

Jinto sniffed back more tears and shifted the box in his arms as the weight began to make his muscles ache. “That’s what my mom said too. Then I woke up one day for school and she was just…gone.”

Thoroughly alarmed at being the unwilling recipient of childish trauma and confessions, Rodney stared in panic at Jinto for a moment before snapping, “Well, clearly the woman was some kind of mental deficient. And a liar. Thankfully neither of those descriptions can be applied to myself so kindly stop that ridiculous sniffling and start being useful again or I shall just forget I ever saw you and leave you and that hideous animal right here and now!”

Jinto, startled out of his funk, gaped up at Rodney. “What?”

“I said, stop snivelling!” Rodney glanced back around the corner again and then looked back down at Jinto forbiddingly. “Why you’re wasting good time and tears over some woman who couldn’t appreciate a good thing when she had it, I don’t know. Both you and your father seem to be reasonably intelligent specimens of the human race, and, when you aren’t filthy and leaking bodily fluids, you don’t seem any more hideous than other children your age. If your mother couldn’t see that you were worth sticking around for then I would say that she wasn’t worth another moment of your thoughts. Thoughts that, by the way, would be much more usefully employed in thinking of a safe way off this damn ranch and to the nearest unknown vet!”

For a moment it looked like Jinto was going to crumple into a veritable flood of tears and, just as Rodney was truly beginning to panic, his eyes widened and he stared up at his unwilling companion in amazement. “No one’s ever said that before. No one’s ever said that she was bad for leaving me.”

Rodney blinked down at the grimy face lifted to his, for a moment forgetting what he was meant to be doing. “Really? What on earth have they been saying then?”

Jinto a shrugged awkwardly as he adjusted his hold on the box once more. “That it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t stay. That she loved me, but she just can’t be with me for a while.”

Rodney rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Good grief, what a lot of touchy-feely crap, of course it was her fault. She was selfish and stupid, nothing more, nothing less.” He narrowed his eyes at Jinto. “And if you believed that nonsense, then you’re much stupider than I gave you credit for.”

Jinto stared at Rodney for a moment and then shyly grinned. “I’m not stupid, Mr. McKay.” He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders once more, this time as if an unseen weight was falling off them and repeated firmly, “I’m not stupid.”

“Hmm.” Uncomfortably Rodney shifted his feet as Jinto’s shy grin grew into a full-fledged blinding one. “Well, good. Very reassuring. Now,” He took a deep breath and one more look around the corner. “If we’ve quite finished with our little moment shall we concentrate on what we came here to do? And stop calling me Mr. McKay; it reminds me of someone I’d rather forget. If we’re going on our little adventure then you should call me, well, Rodney, I suppose.” He eyed the sleek pool of automobiles standing in a semi-circle as they shone in the morning sun, pointedly ignoring Jinto’s gaping face. “I think if we’re going to do this, we should do it in style.” His gaze fell on the clean lines of the red Ferrari that was John’s pride and joy. “Oh yes, that will do nicely.”

Love's Tangled Web

Thu, 04 Jan 2007 21:55:15 GMT

Well. That was shaming in the extreme. Forgot how to work lj. Sorry to everyone who was puzzled as to why this post kept popping up and equally suddenly disappearing again. Same as before - thanks to all who have continued to support me, sorry for being such a useless tart. Still not beta'd, still coming in two-part segments over the next few days and if this doesn't work I'm uploading to wraithbait so go check there. God. So humiliated.

~*~*~*

It was late when Rodney woke the next morning, to his surprise completely unmolested and still as virginal as when he had fallen asleep. He lay rigid on the wide, comfortable bed, eyes darting nervously as best they could around the room from his awkward position of laying face down in a fluffy pillow and finally rolled over some minutes later when he couldn’t stand the suspense anymore to find out whether or not he was alone.

The previous evening had been tense, frightening and downright uncomfortable when he realised that although John had every intention of keeping to his word, he also wasn’t going to let Rodney have any more than the necessary privacy than showering alone afforded him. When Rodney had eventually sidled out of the bathroom, flushed from his almost scalding shower and dressed covered from neck to toe in sweats and thick socks that Ronon had shoved through the door, John had smirked at him from where he was lounging on a deep, overstuffed couch set back in one of the window alcoves and waved a lazy hand for him to come and eat the dinner Ronon had delivered when he had brought up their bags.

Rodney had hesitated for a few moments, torn between wanting to eat whatever smelled so good under the covered trays sitting on the low table in front of John, and wanting to lock himself in the bathroom and trying to drown himself in the huge shower he had just so reluctantly vacated. In the end it had taken an annoyed “McKay!” from John to get him moving and he had shuffled unhappily across the room to perch on the couch as far away as he could get from the other man before lifting the cover on his dinner. A large juicy steak, baked potato dripping with butter and crisp green beans lay in tempting array before him, and Rodney’s stomach staged a bloodless coup over his higher functions to have him shovelling down the food before he’d even registered he’d picked up his cutlery. Only when he’d cleared his plate and gulped down the glass of icy water that John had handed him without a word, did Rodney register that forcing himself to take his time and draw dinner out might have been in his best interests. His eyes had darted to John’s plate, still half full, and then looked warily up at the other man before skipping nervously to the bed and back again. John stared impassively back at him, and then nodded towards the bed. “Now for the rest part.”

Rodney swallowed, feeling his dinner threaten to make an unscheduled reappearance. “I’m not tired.” He edged backwards a little more, the arm of the couch digging into his lower back painfully. “In fact, now I come to think of it, I really feel like some fresh air. A nice, brisk, long walk in the fresh air, possibly….”

John placed his knife and fork down on his plate with an irritated grunt and scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly. “McKay, just get into bed, okay? For the love of all that’s holy stop talking and get some damn sleep.”

Rodney twitched at the harsh tone of voice. “Are you…am I going to….” He took a deep breath and forced himself to finish a sentence. “Is this the part where I start earning my keep?”

John looked up incredulously, snapping, “How many more times do I have to say it? I’m not touching you tonight. Just get into bed, okay? I’ll join you later.”

Rodney opened his mouth to clarify just what joining him later meant in John’s world, and then wisely closed it again when he caught the warning look the other man shot at him. He stood up and edged away from the couch, trying not to look like he was backing away, while still keeping a wary eye on John. When he felt the bed touch the back of his knees, he sat down, looking worriedly down at the plain tan coverlet and then back up at John.

“For god’s sake.” John glared impatiently. “Get under the covers! Head on pillow. Sleep!” He snatched up his cutlery once more, cutting savagely into his steak, determinedly ignoring the pale, terrified face staring at him. “I’m eating. See me eat?” He shoved a large bite of steak into his mouth, chewing it savagely. “Mmm, food.”

Rodney scowled and scrambled under the covers, pulling the thick coverlet up and over his head until all that could be seen of him was accusing blue eyes and the tip of his thin nose. Which still somehow managed to convey his utter loathing and distrust of John and his motives with perfect clarity. John snorted and pointedly turned his full attention to his dinner, forcing himself to choke down each bite as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Heavy silence fell in the room, broken only by the sound of John’s cutlery scraping on his plate, and then when he’d finished his dinner, he reached for a leather briefcase sitting at his feet and pulled out a thick pile of files. Still pointedly ignoring Rodney, John settled himself comfortably into the corner of the couch and flipped open the first file, uncapping a pen and going to work with single-minded determination.

Rodney lay in his sweltering cocoon for what seemed like hours, sweating heavily in his unsuitable night attire and fighting the heat induced drowsiness that kept trying to force his eyes shut as he stared warily at John, waiting for the man to make his expected move. Continuing his established pattern of being easily the most infuriating and confusing man Rodney had ever met, John worked his way steadily through the paperwork on his lap, not even glancing up once to see if his unwilling new roommate was following orders and eventually Rodney couldn’t take his self-inflicted sauna anymore and shifted the covers down to his chest, clutching them resentfully to himself as the heat flooded off him in waves and his temperature lowered. He vaguely remembered biting his lip once or twice in an effort to stay awake, his mind fighting his body with everything it had, but inevitably he succumbed to his exhaustion and the accumulated stress of the day and had fallen asleep.

Which brought him here. Rodney looked warily around the room, paying special attention to the floor length curtains and couch just in case John was lurking behind them waiting to spring out, and then slowly sat up, relief flooding through him when he realised that he was alone. The light in the room was muted, but the curtains were thin enough to allow Rodney to see that the day outside was bright with sunshine, and he scowled resentfully at the thought of a beautiful day when his own life was so undeniably gloomy. He looked around the room again, unsure what to do. He didn’t remember any restrictions on his movements being laid down by Sheppard, but he also wasn’t sure whether he had the run of the house to enable him to, oh, find food. He pressed a hand to his growling belly when it rumbled angrily, reminding him that some sustenance at some point in the near future would be gratefully received and tried to work out what to do.

He’d just decided to take another shower and then, if no further indication of what he should do presented itself, go foraging for himself, when the bedroom door was flung open and Ronon Dex marched in, carrying a tray piled high with food. “Hey.” Ronon nodded his head and kindly didn’t notice that Rodney was clutching his covers to his chest like a Victorian maiden. “Thought you might be hungry by now.”

Rodney watched warily as the other man approached, eyes skipping suspiciously between his face and the tray. “Where’s Sheppard?”

Ronon raised an eyebrow and dumped the tray down on Rodney’s legs, ignoring his yelp of outrage. “Gone into the office. He left early. I’m meant to bring you into him when you’ve eaten and dressed, there’s some things you need to do.” He pointed at the tray. “Eat. It’s safe, I made it myself.”

Rodney looked at the plate full of scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, lightly browned toast and hash browns. Then he looked at the steaming mug of what looked like tea sitting innocently beside it. “Is this is a joke?”

Ronon frowned. “Something wrong with it?” He joined Rodney in peering at the tray. “You got a dairy allergy as well?”

“Yes!” Rodney scowled and jabbed a finger at the offending part of his breakfast. “I’m horribly allergic to milk when it doesn’t come tasting like coffee. I’m not drinking that, god knows what it will do to me!”

Looking nonplussed, Ronon frowned. “You’d think you’d be nicer to someone who cooked you breakfast.” He lowered his eyebrows menacingly. “Especially considering the shaky ground you’re already on around here.”

Rodney, a man who hadn’t started his day without coffee since hitting the tender age of twelve, wasn’t about to be menaced over something that he regarded as one of his basic human rights. Especially not by a man who appeared to have more hair than brain cells and kept speaking in sentences that a reasonably intelligent gorilla could produce. He narrowed his eyes warningly. “Either you take this revolting stuff away right now, or you’ll be wearing it. I drink coffee. Period.”

Ronon was rapidly reconsidering his previous stance on treating Rodney with kindness and respect and was fast coming to the conclusion that John was acting like a lunatic purely because his new partner had driven him to the brink of insanity. He jabbed a finger at the tea. “Drink it.”

Rodney snatched the tea up, waving it through the air and sing-songing warningly, “We-ar-ing it! Coffee. Now!”

Gritting his teeth, Ronon said pleasantly, “Sheppard said that tea’s better for you. He doesn’t want you getting sick again.” He glared hard at Rodney. “He said that I had to make sure you finished everything on the tray. I’ll pour it down your neck if I have to.”

Rodney paused mid-slosh with his tea and eyed Ronon warily. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Ronon flexed his impressive biceps, shown off to maximum effect in the skin tight long sleeved black t-shirt he was wearing, and looked pointedly at Rodney’s far less intimidating physique. “Try me.”

Looking from his mug of tea and then back to Ronon’s implacable face, Rodney squinted dubiously and then set his jaw in determination. “Unless you want to wake up one morning inexplicably finding everything you own exploding when you get within three feet of it and your eyelids glued shut, then I suggest you stop trying to bully me with your quite frankly ludicrous muscle mass and give in to my request. I am a certified genius and, if pushed, I have no problem becoming an evil certified genius.”

Ronon blinked. Flexing his biceps had never failed him before. He stared at Rodney in slight confusion. “No coffee.”

Rodney snorted. “Coffee. Now. Or I glue your hair to your pillow, too.” Sensing defeat in the air, he lowered his voice to a tempting wheedle. “Look, I won’t tell your boss, okay? How about you drink the tea, and I just run and get myself the coffee? That way I get a nice hot drink and some early morning exercise. I’m sure even Sheppard couldn’t find fault with that. It’s a two-fer-one!”

Surprised into laughter at the triumphant look on Rodney’s face when he finished his pitch, Ronon shook his head and held out his hand for the disputed drink. “Deal. But you stay there and I’ll get us both a cup of coffee.” He grinned slyly at Rodney’s startled look. “Wouldn’t drink this stuff no matter what you threatened to glue shut.”

Ronon watched Rodney with curiosity when he returned with the coffee and the other man fell on his breakfast and his beloved beverage like a lion savaging an especially helpless antelope. It seemed that despite his general state of nervous tension, it would take a lot more than enforced sexual slavery and the ruin of his family to kill Rodney’s appetite. Ronon raised an eyebrow. “Hard night last night?”

Rodney paused in shovelling the last of his hash browns in his mouth and glared at Ronon. “Do you want me to bring up everything I’ve just eaten?” He jammed his forkful into his mouth so hard that the metal clanked against his teeth and chewed viciously. “Makes you feel good, does it, helping Sheppard to force me to leave Canada and keep me here?”

Rodney opened his mouth and then shut it again, turning his eyes down to where he cradled his own coffee between his hands. “I did what had to be done.”

“Which I’m sure will be a great comfort to me when I’m being savaged every night by your boss.” Rodney looked down at the remnants of his meal and his mouth turned down before he shoved it towards Ronon angrily. “I’m done.”

Not sure if he was trying to convince Rodney or himself, Ronon righted the tray and bent to place it on the floor. “He’s not going to do that.” He straightened up and looked at Rodney closely. “He won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“My God, how stupid are you?” Rodney dropped the bedcover he was once again clutching to his chest and flung his arms out wide, presumably to indicate not only the bedroom but America as a whole. “He already has! I don’t want to be here! I am here against my will! Your boss is a thug and a…a reprobate and a…a….”

Ronon scratched at his beard, muttering, “Yeah. He gets things done. Doesn’t let anything stand in his way.”

“Like basic human rights?” Incredulous, Rodney gaped at Ronon. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say? ‘He gets things done’? He’s kidnapped me!”

Ronon scratched at his beard again, his face set in a stoic mask. “You agreed to come. That’s not kidnap.”

“Yes, yes, obviously there’s a fine line between actual kidnap and blackmail with threats of physical violence, but the fact remains that given a choice I wouldn’t be here.” Rodney took a shuddering breath and forced himself to say more calmly, “Look, please, can’t you talk some sense into him? Make him see how wrong this is? I haven’t done anything to deserve this, I hadn’t even seen my father for four years before this situation.”

Ronon’s expression darkened at the mention of Terence. “He deserves everything we’re gonna do to him.”

“And I’m not arguing with you!” Surprised to find he meant every word, Rodney leaned forward urgently, his eyes staring at Ronon imploringly. “He is a deeply, deeply unpleasant man. Keenly observed! But the people around him don’t deserve this. I didn’t give into Sheppard to keep my father safe; I don’t care about him, I swear to you. I’m here because he’s threatening other people I care about – people that aren’t even part of my family! You’ve got to help me!”

Ronon found he couldn’t meet Rodney’s desperate gaze. “I gave him my word I’d see this through with him. This has been a long time in coming for both of us.” Huge fists clenched on his widespread knees. “We’re taking your father down once and for all.”

Rodney rolled his eyes in exasperated irritation. “God, he didn’t kill your mother as well, did he?” He stopped when he realized what he’d blurted out and hurriedly spluttered, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean that the way it sounded!”

Looking like he was torn between wanting to strike out or just laugh, Ronon shook his head. “What the hell does Sheppard see in you?”

Nervously Rodney smiled. “I have no idea.” He swallowed, his throat clicking anxiously, and questioned hesitantly, “So, really, what has my father done to you? Why do you hate him so much?”

Ronon’s jaw flexed and he glowered down at the floor. “He ruined my life.”

Before he could stop himself, Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. “Join the club.” He flinched when Ronon turned a ferocious glare on him and held up his hands defensively. “Which shouldn’t tear the focus away from your pain, obviously! Please, go ahead, I’m all ears.”

Ronon’s jaw flexed again and he growled, “I used to work for him a few years ago. Security, like I do for Sheppard.” His face flushed with angry colour. “We were running a standard security sweep on the databases when we found some discrepancies. Some data had been changed and the tech that spotted it brought it straight to me and bypassed his superior.”

Rodney, embarrassingly familiar with his father’s business practices and flexible approach to the legal technicalities involved with running a multi-million dollar corporation, clapped his hand over his eyes and groaned. “He offered you hush money and you refused to take it.”

Ronon jerked in surprise. “He told you about it?”

“Of course he didn’t tell me about it, you moron. That’s what he always does.” Rodney dragged his hand down his face, making his eyes and mouth droop more than usual and waved the other in a limp gesture of encouragement. “Go on. What happened next?”

Looking vaguely annoyed by Rodney’s resigned and knowing manner, Ronon muttered, “Fired me.”

“Yes, yes.” Rodney twirled the hand not currently stretching his face in an impatient circle. “Got that. What else?”

“That’s not enough?” Ronon bristled, making Rodney snort and eye him with amused disdain. He glared and spat, “When I tried to fight him and expose what he’d done, he got to the same tech that had exposed the problem in the first place and forced him to alter the data again so it looked like I’d been embezzling from the company. I went to jail.”

Rodney stopped nodding along in gloomy recognition of his father’s actions and stared at Ronon in disbelief. “My God!” He paled when he remembered something. “Just like Sheppard’s father.”

“Yeah, just like Sam.” Ronon’s eyes blazed with emotion for a moment before his usual impassive mask fell back into place. “I got out after a couple of years, but McKay made it impossible for me to get a job. Even if someone was willing to give me a second chance, he got to them and changed their minds. I ended up working whatever job I could get. Construction, some ranching, bussing in diners – whatever paid me enough to eat and put a roof over my head.”

“Oh.” Rodney found that now he was the one that couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes. “I…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Ronon looked at him with hard eyes, merciless in his story and determined not to spare any details. “Then Sheppard found me. He’d heard what had happened and he didn’t take the story at face value. He looked into it, worked out what really happened and then offered me a job. And a chance to get my revenge. He’s a good man.” Ronon stared intently at Rodney, face sober with sincerity. “I know that it can’t seem that way to you right now, but he is. You won’t be harmed.”

Rodney shook off the uncomfortable feeling that Ronon’s blind faith in John stirred in him and snapped, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. From where I am, you’re just as bad as he is.” He looked away, cheeks flushing as he muttered, “Your only saving grace is that you don’t seem to be interested in anything other than holding me against my will.”

Ronon flashed a grin, shaking off the bitter memories his treatment by McKay Sr. had stirred up. “Yeah, you’re not really my type.” He sighed, huge shoulders rising and falling as though trying to shift a great weight and then said slowly, “I didn’t think you’d be his either. You’ve made things…complicated.”

Despairing, Rodney flung up his hands. “Why does everyone seem to insist on making this my fault? The only thing I’m guilty of here is gross stupidity in allowing myself to be out-manoeuvred by that vacuous bully-boy and answering the phone to my mother in the first place.” He folded his arms over his chest, scowling bitterly. “Which, by the way, is a mistake I’m not making again any time soon. With my luck, the next time they’ll have me sold off to some sand encrusted Sheikh and I’ll be smelling camel for the rest of my life.”

Ronon laughed. “You’re alright, McKay.” He clapped a brawny hand on Rodney’s knee. “And no one’s saying this is your fault.” He cocked his head to one side and stared thoughtfully at Rodney, who shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “But for whatever reason, when John saw you the plan changed. He was never going to marry your sister. We were planning on just stringing your family along for a few weeks, make them jump through a few pretty public hoops and then dumping the woman and ruining your father as humiliatingly as possible.” Ronon looked briefly regretful. “It was a good plan. Had style.”

Rodney was lost for words. His jaw bounced up and down soundlessly, incoherent hissing noises escaping him as he tried to convey his outrage and fury at being duped, his sister being evidently thought of as some kind of acceptable casualty of John and Ronon’s war, and the sheer unmitigated gall of playing with people’s lives in such a vicious manner.

Ronon looked mildly entertained. “This is probably as good a time as any to show you something.” He reached behind himself and pulled a folded newspaper from his rear pocket. “Here.” He unfolded the paper and stabbed a thick finger at it. “You made the front page.”

Eyes bulging in his head, Rodney looked down and was horrified to see his own and John’s faces plastered across what appeared to be some kind of supermarket tabloid. He snatched disbelievingly at the paper, ignoring Ronon’s low chuckle and skimmed the front page before following directions to the centre pages where an even more lurid spread was waiting for him. “’Just Ask, He’ll Tell’?” Rodney hoarse disbelieving whisper was nearly drowned out by the sound of the newspaper tearing in his hands. “Is this a joke?”

“Nope.” Ronon grinned and flicked the paper cheerfully. “That’s not the only one, either. We leaked the story to most of the nationals, as well.” He punched Rodney’s leg lightly. “Couriered a copy of them all to your father myself this morning. It’s the social story of the year. Real Romeo and Juliet stuff, almost brings a tear to your eye.”

Rodney, meanwhile, was still reading. “He did not rescue me from poverty and squalor after my father threw me out, my apartment always looks like that! And I walked out, I wasn’t thrown out!” His blood pressure reached dangerous new heights when he saw the next paragraph. “Delicate health? Sensitive disposition? Rejected by my family because of my sexuality?” Rodney threw the paper aside, kicked furiously at the covers over his legs and tumbled out of bed. “I’m getting dressed and then we’re going to find your boss. I’m going to kill him.”

“Cool.” Ronon grinned in appreciation when Rodney disappeared into the bathroom in a cloud of inventive death threats and curses, the slam of the door sounding like a gunshot in his wake. “I’ll go start the car.”

~*~*~*

Rodney swept into the impressive headquarters of Sheppard’s empire in a cloud of rage and disgust and didn’t endear himself to the security guard who tried to stop him marching past reception and straight to the elevators thanks to the tirade of rabid insults when Rodney shoved past him and then, when that failed to stop the guard doing his job, setting Ronon on him when the bodyguard followed in his wake with a wolfish grin.

“Don’t bother talking with him, hit him! Hit him hard!” Rodney glowered at the bank of buttons set in the wall beside the elevator and stabbed impatiently at them. “Which floor is Sheppard on?”

“Mr. Dex, he needs to be signed in!” The guard waved an angry hand at Rodney. “He can’t just march in here like he owns the place.”

Ronon grinned. “He kinda can.” He glanced over at Rodney, now kicking impatiently at the elevator doors. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take responsibility for him.”

“Dex!” The bellow from Rodney had all heads turning. “Where is he?”

“Sir, Mr. Sheppard won’t like this.” The guard trotted after Ronon, almost plucking at his sleeve in his anxiousness. “All his personal visitors have to be on his schedule and announced.”

“DEX!”

Ronon grinned wider. “Not a problem. We’ll announce ourselves.”

Once in the elevator, Rodney occupied himself with folding his arms over his chest and muttering under his breath whilst directing a ferocious glare at the wall. Ronon leaned casually behind him, a small smile playing about the corners of his mouth, and studied his boss’ new plaything. Still wrong footed by the appearance of Rodney, rather than the much more socially acceptable Jeannie, Ronon had still been in two minds about the moral implications of taking someone so obviously unwilling from Terence McKay when he had brought Rodney his breakfast that morning. His qualms hadn’t exactly been eased when he had found Rodney huddled in John’s bed, obviously still scared out of his mind and looking like he was two steps away from a complete breakdown.

The first indication that Rodney still possessed some fighting spirit came from their battle over the coffee and now, well, Ronon tilted his head and studied Rodney even more closely. Now the man that had ordered Ronon to take him directly to Sheppard bore no resemblance to the traumatized individual Ronon had first seen. Body fairly crackling with righteous fury, Rodney looked determined to rend Sheppard limb from limb with his bare hands if he had to, and Ronon found himself almost gleefully anticipating the coming battle, sure that Sheppard was about to get a very unexpected shock in regards to the compliance of his new partner.

The doors hissed apart and Rodney shot forwards, squeezing his body between them without bothering to wait for them to fully open. “Which way?”

Ronon caught his arm when he stumbled and silently pointed towards where a large expensive wooden desk sat at one end of a luxuriously appointed lobby.

“Right.” Rodney wrenched his arm away and marched off, eyes fixed on the surprised looking man behind the desk. “You, where’s Sheppard?”

“I beg your pardon?” The man looked down his long nose and his eyes crinkled with distaste. “Do you have an appointment?” His eyes flickered beyond Rodney and settled on Ronon briefly before he added begrudgingly, “Sir.”

Rodney made an alarming hissing noise. “I don’t need an appointment.” He paused and looked uncertainly over his shoulder at Ronon. “Do I?” Ronon shook his head and Rodney turned back triumphantly. “See? Tell me where Sheppard is immediately!”

The man leaned back a little in his chair and stared at Rodney. “I will not! Who are you?”

Ronon stepped forward, grin firmly back in place. “S’okay, Grodin, he’s Rodney McKay.”

The dark haired man blinked and peered incredulously at Rodney’s flushed and sweating face and then, even more incredulously, at his hastily dragged on discount clothing and battered sneakers. “This is Mr. Sheppard’s…partner?” He stared open mouthed at Rodney. “Really?”

Ronon chuckled. “Yep.”

Grodin’s eyes bulged. “But…but…I’ve seen pictures. He looks nothing like this.”

Rodney gritted his teeth and felt a vein in his forehead begin to throb when he thought of the pictures that had been dredged up by the press and splashed across the papers. A couple of pictures of him at formal functions from when he worked at his father’s company, complete with requisite designer tux and accessories, and another from when he had unadvisedly performed in a college play and for some unknown reason thought that dressing up as an angel and baring his then underdeveloped body for all to see would help him get a date. He glared at Grodin, snapping, “I’ve fallen on hard times, remember? Impoverished and desperate? Believe me, that is the only possible reason I would ever let myself be linked with a shoddy, despicable….”

Ronon stopped grinning and hastily interrupted Rodney’s rising voice. “Okay, McKay, that’s enough.” He gripped Rodney’s bicep warningly when the smaller man swelled up with indignation. “Not here.” He waited to make sure that Rodney had taken the warning on board and then looked back at Grodin, still staring at Rodney. “Sheppard free?”

“What? Oh. Yes.” Grodin nodded distractedly and indicated a door set immediately to the left of his desk, still unable to tear his eyes from Rodney’s apoplectic expression. “I’m sure he won’t mind you waiting, he’s just….”

“Ha!” Rodney yanked free and dodged nimbly around the desk and towards the door. “Like hell.”

“McKay!” Ronon grabbed for the back of Rodney’s threadbare fleece and swore when he missed. “Grodin, hold Sheppard’s calls.” He strode after Rodney when the office door was thrown forcefully open and the other man shot through it. “No one comes in without clearance from me.”

Grodin gaped after the men. “But….”

“No one, Grodin.” Ronon shot a warning look over his shoulder and followed in Rodney’s wake, just as the first loud yell sounded from within.

Grodin jumped when the door slammed shut and he looked dazedly down at his desk calendar. “But…that’s Rodney McKay? Seriously?”

~*~*~

“You bastard.” Blind to everything but his prey, Rodney strode across the impressive inner sanctum of John Sheppard, focused on nothing but his need to strike out and vent some of the fury boiling inside him. “How dare you! You absolute pathetic excuse for a….”

“Rodney,” John rose hastily from his chair and moved around the desk, eyes hard with annoyance. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yes, I can imagine it would be difficult to believe that the delicate little flower you’ve rescued from certain destitution and death would be able to drag himself out of the opulent surroundings you’ve oh so graciously bestowed on me, but, surprise, somehow I managed!” Rodney flailed at the hand that John raised towards his face, spitting, “Oh don’t even think about….mmpfph!” He flailed again when John wrapped the hand around the back of his neck and bestowed a hard kiss on him, finally managing to wrench free after a breath stealing few seconds. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

John’s hand squeezed in cruel warning. “I know you’re upset but that’s no reason to forget your manners, right?” He squeezed again when Rodney opened his mouth, saying evenly, “We have company.” He leaned forward, turning his body slightly so Rodney could see over his shoulder and the somewhat stunned looking dark haired woman standing there and whispered, “Remember what I said about your behaviour in public. You really looking to test out your linguistic skills this early in our relationship?”

Rodney froze under John’s hand, staring back at the woman with wide eyes and felt his fury melt under a sudden wave of terror when he remembered John’s threat in Canada at the airfield.

John pulled back and looked into Rodney’s eyes, murmuring, “Didn’t think so.” He pressed another kiss to Rodney’s suddenly unresisting mouth and then stepped back with a sheepish grin directed at his companion. “Sorry, Elizabeth, the whole thing with the press has been a little…unexpected.” He slipped an arm around Rodney’s tense shoulders and pulled him into his side, pressing another kiss to his sweating temple. “And my guy here tends to get a little overexcited.”

The woman smiled graciously, not quite managing to hide the speculative light in her eyes when she looked at the two men. “Don’t worry about it. I think it’s quite understandable under the circumstances.”

“Rodney, this is Elizabeth Weir, my vice-president.” Urging Rodney forward, John beamed a convincingly besotted smile at Rodney’s rigid face. “Elizabeth, this is my partner, Rodney McKay.” The besotted smile faded a tad when Rodney remained mute and frozen against him and John murmured with just a tinge of impatience, “Say hi, Rodney.”

“I….” Rodney’s eyes darted to John’s face and then to Elizabeth’s expectant one, and then behind her to where Ronon was lounging back against the only visible escape route. “He…hello.” He stared blankly at the slim hand Elizabeth extended towards him and, with another nervous look at John, shook it quickly. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello.” Elizabeth smiled back warmly. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Rodney. John’s been telling me all about you.”

Rodney gazed helplessly back and felt a cold sweat spring out all down his back, terrified to say anything in case he angered John even further.

John diffused the suddenly strained silence with an amused chuckle. “You probably don’t believe it from the dramatic entrance, but he’s pretty shy. Give him a few days, Elizabeth, and you won’t be able to shut him up.” He squeezed Rodney again. “You won’t believe the difference in him when we’re on our own. Right, Rodney?”

Rodney flinched. “Yes. Absolutely. Totally different.”

Smoothly, John stepped forward, releasing Rodney and placing one hand at the small of Elizabeth’s back to urge her towards the door. “So, I think that’s everything.” He smiled when Ronon stepped aside from the door and courteously pulled it open for Elizabeth to pass. “Anything that’s not clear, just give me a call on the cell. Now Rodney’s up and about we’ve got some stuff to take care of and unless it’s life or death I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Looking vaguely disconcerted by her polite but firm dismissal, Elizabeth glanced back over her shoulder at Rodney. “Of course, John, I understand. It would be nice to meet Rodney properly though. How are the two of you fixed for lunch in the next few days?”

John continued to smile warmly, the pressure against Elizabeth’s spine only increasing a miniscule amount to indicate his impatience for her departure. “We’ll let you know. To tell you the truth, we were kinda hoping for some time to ourselves to settle in.”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. “You mean time off? You?” She dug her heels in just over the threshold, turning to face John and smile teasingly over his shoulder to where Rodney stood still frozen in the middle of the office. “Okay, what have you done with the real John Sheppard? I’ve worked for him since he founded the company and I don’t think he’s voluntarily taken more than three days off in all those years.”

Chuckling wryly, John rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth smiled fondly at her employer. “Congratulations, John. You too, Rodney, he’s quite the catch. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

Rodney managed to stop himself gaping incredulously and nodded jerkily. “Yes, I…thank you.” He watched numbly when John tossed a casual salute at Elizabeth and then closed the door, unsure whether or not to take comfort from the fact that Ronon remained inside the office with them.

John turned to face Rodney, the friendly mask melting from his face to leave a frighteningly hard expression behind. “You want to explain that little outburst?”

Rodney swallowed and tried to stoke up the fire of righteous fury that had carried him from John’s bed to his office. “Do you really need to ask? Ronon showed me the morning paper, I know what you’ve done!” To his annoyance, the words came out more of a whine than an accusing roar but as Rodney was privately impressed he could still say anything now he was actually in John’s presence he felt quite pleased with himself. Why was it he kept letting himself forget just how intimidating the damn man was in person?

John grinned, looking pleased with himself. “Yeah, I imagine your dad’s feeling pretty ticked off himself by now.” He stuck his hands in his pants pockets and rocked on his heels happily. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to be there and see the look on his face.”

For just the tiniest moment Rodney let himself forget that it was his own life that was being so comprehensively destroyed and imagined for himself the look on his father’s face when presented with the extensive media coverage focused on the son he had happily disowned. His mouth twitched when in his mind’s eye he saw the rather painful shade of purple his father turned and the devastating aneurysm that literally made his head explode.

John caught the flicker of amusement. “See? There’s an upside to everything if you know how to look for it. Pretty funny, huh?”

“Yes, I’m all a-quiver with mirth.” Rodney stopped picturing his father in his mind and came back to himself. “Unfortunately the possibility of my father spontaneously combusting is totally failing to make up for the fact that you’ve made me the laughing stock of your entire misbegotten country.”

John didn’t react to the high pitched howl that Rodney ended his sentence on, merely sauntering casually back to his desk and reseating himself before drawling casually, “The world, actually.”

“I…what?” Rodney paused before spitting out his next complaint and looked at John blankly. “What.”

John leaned back in his chair and shrugged unconcernedly. “The world’s laughing stock. The story’s starting to go global. The British nationals and a few other European countries are starting to pick up on it.” He gestured to a laptop lying on the desk that put Rodney’s much-cherished dinosaur of a computer to shame. “Its all over the web too.”

Rodney stared uncomprehendingly between John’s face and the laptop.

John shrugged again, saying with mock humility, “I’m an important guy after all. Fingers in a lot of pies. There’s stock holders and lots of other people the world over that are going to be pretty interested in the fact that there’s someone in the picture now that might hold some pretty strong influence over me and any decisions I might make.” He grinned savagely at Rodney. “If only they knew the truth, right, McKay?”

Rodney continued to stare silently at John, frowning and weaving slightly on his feet as he tried to assimilate what the other man was telling him. Behind Rodney, Ronon scowled and narrowed his eyes at his employer, shifting uncomfortably where he was once again leaning up against the door.

Rodney swallowed, trying to ease his suddenly constricted throat. “I…you…there’s more of that garbage being printed?”

Looking very much like the cat that had not only got the canary and the cream, but also the canary’s offspring and the dairy too, John nodded, openly gloating at the look of desolation on Rodney’s face. “Yep.”

“But…” Rodney gazed vacantly at John, whispering hoarsely, “People will see it. People that I know.”

“Uh-huh.” John nodded in cheerful agreement. “Kinda the point, McKay. Not a lot in it for me if I’m the only person that knows I’m scoring points over your family. This way the whole goddamned world knows that I’ve got one over on him, even if only a select few know that I’m screwing over his entire life instead of just screwing his son.”

“This is my life.” Some life started to return to Rodney, a new battle light appearing in his eyes when John continued to smirk at him. “What you’ve done…I won’t be able to go anywhere ever again without someone…they’ll always see me as your…your….”

“Consort?” Helpfully, John supplied the word. “I think I like that better than hus….”

“I was going to say ‘whore’!” Beginning to shake with rage, Rodney clenched his fists impotently. “My God, you’ve destroyed any credibility I’ll ever gain in the scientific community! Thanks to your pathetic inadequacies as a human being, I’m going to be seen forever as some kind of…of….” Rodney’s hands flailed wildly through the air, breath coming in harsh pants. “They made me sound like some kind of Rainman.”

John grinned again. “I know. Man, that’s gotta sting. And that was one of the more…restrained…articles.” He looked enquiringly at Ronon. “You just showed him the ones I left, right?”

Rodney swung round to face Ronon looking like he’d just remembered he was in the room with them, saying accusingly, “You had more?”

Shooting John a heated glare, Ronon said, “I got rid of the others. You didn’t want to see them.”

“Oh how very considerate of you!” Rodney stared wildly between the two men. “Or not. I seem to remember you finding it highly amusing yourself when you handed that drivel over to me this morning!” He held up a hand when Ronon tried to interrupt and snapped, “Save it, I don’t want to hear it.” Rodney spun and stabbed a finger at John. “You! This stops now. Over!”

John raised an eyebrow, smirking, “Hey, I got a lot of power these days, McKay, but not even I can slap a gag order on the world’s press.”

Rodney shook his head impatiently. “No. I mean this…thing. Us.” His hand waved between himself and John, head turning from side to side looking for escape. “I didn’t agree to this. I won’t allow you to do this to me.”

John lost the smirk. “Ronon. Leave.”

“Sheppard.” Ronon straightened up, his body suddenly radiating tension. “Hold on a minute.”

Eyes fixed on Rodney, John slowly stood. “You can wait right outside the door. Now get out.”

Eyes filled with alarm, Rodney began to back up when John came out from behind his desk. “No!” He shot a look filled with desperate pleading over his shoulder at Ronon when the bodyguard hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to diffuse the situation and wanting to trust his boss. “Please, can’t you see how crazy this is? Help me.”

“Ronon,” John’s low growl had the younger man’s eyes focusing on him intently. “Get. Out.”

The silence that followed was filled with tension and only broken by Rodney’s panicked breaths as he waited for Ronon to decide what he was going to do, but eventually Ronon’s eyes slid down to John’s left hand where the glint of his wedding band shone merrily in the sunlight streaming through the windows and he nodded brusquely. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

“No.” Rodney’s agonized whisper had barely left him when the door shut with a sharp click behind Ronon, leaving him alone with John. “Don’t touch me!”

John watched dispassionately when Rodney stumbled away from him and arranged himself in an elegant sprawl against the front of his desk. “Wasn’t planning on it.” His eyes dragged up and down Rodney’s rumpled figure in distaste. “As soon as we get this settled between us we’re going shopping for some decent clothes. You look like I found you behind a dumpster.”

Rodney glanced briefly down at his ratty fleece and jeans, frowned in confusion and then shook his head, refusing to be derailed. “No, I told you. I changed my mind.” Voice quivering with false bravado, he raised his chin defiantly. “I’m leaving.”

Far from looking angry, John cocked his head inquiringly. “And where are you gonna go? Back to your father?”

Taking heart from the fact that John was remaining composed and not threatening him or physically assaulting him yet again, Rodney calmed a little. “No, no of course not.” He wrapped his arms around his torso and nodded to himself decisively. “I’ll go back home to Toronto. The university.”

“I see.” John folded his arms across his chest and said with surprising gentleness. “McKay, you’ve got nothing left to go back to. You quit your apartment and place at university, remember? You’ve got nowhere to go.”

Stricken, Rodney looked back at him. “No, that’s not true. I can go back. I’ll go to the university; explain things to them.”

John smiled coldly. “Explain what? The fact that you’re leaving your new married life after just a couple of days, the bloom’s gone from the rose this soon? Or the truth? Tell them how you were willing to exchange your body to save your family’s money and property?” He shook his head with mock sorrow. “Either way, it’s not going to look good. And, seriously,” He grinned derisively, “Who the hell is going to believe you if you tell them that?”

Rodney stammered, “My…my friends will help me. They’ll believe me.”

“Possibly.” John raised a sardonic eyebrow. “But they’ll find it pretty hard to do anything to help you after they’ve been deported and all their funding is stripped from them.” His eyes narrowed spitefully. “Always assuming they’ll want to help you after you selfishly ruin their lives, of course. I mean, buddies can be pretty forgiving, but something like that…I don’t know, you imagine they’re going to think you’re worth it after you pull a stunt like that?”

Rodney’s heart thumped heavily in his chest and he croaked unconvincingly, “They...they would. They’d help.” He was unable to drag his eyes from John’s victorious expression. “And m…maybe I don’t need them. I have money, I can take care of myself.”

John looked politely interested. “Yeah? According to my information you have just under a hundred and fifty dollars in your checking account and your one credit card is nearly maxed out.” He leaned back on the desk and picked up a sheet of paper, making a show of perusing it. “And according to this, the next pay out on your trust fund isn’t for another twenty-eight days.” He whistled through his teeth. “Going to be mighty tough making it back to Canada, finding accommodation and feeding yourself on nothing more than pocket change, McKay.”

White with distress, Rodney remained mute and stared fixedly at the paper in John’s hand, the reminder of his trust find also serving to force the main reason he had given into John to the forefront of his mind.

John moved in for the kill. “Give it up, Rodney. There’s nothing you can do change this situation. I’ve won, start accepting that and you’ll find this whole thing much easier.”

Defeated and stripped of the righteous anger and indignation that had propelled him out of bed, Rodney closed his eyes and turned his head away, whispering plaintively, “You’ve ruined my life.”

John hardened his heart against the misery pouring off the other man. “Yeah? Well, unlike my mother, at least you still have a life to ruin.” He clapped his hands together loudly, making Rodney flinch and his eyes pop open in alarm. “Now, let’s go shopping.”

~*~*~

Later that afternoon, Rodney found himself seated in a very plush room at John’s side about to meet a man whom he had been assured was the best personal physician in the US. Despondent, he sat staring numbly at his new three hundred dollar shoes and the hem of his designer slacks, and waited dejectedly for whatever new humiliation was about to be visited upon him.

John shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, smiling pleasantly at the receptionist who was seated in the corner, desperately trying not to stare at the two men. “For Christ’s sake, cheer up. I’ve just blown thousands of dollars on you, McKay, and I haven’t even heard a word of thanks.”

Rodney didn’t bother to raise his head at the annoyed hiss. “Thanks.”

John gritted his teeth, grimly hanging onto his smile. “Yeah, really feeling the love.”

Hunching his shoulders, Rodney muttered miserably, “What do you want from me? You really think a few new pairs of pants are going to make any me feel any better? Do I look like Paris Hilton to you?”

“Not so much.” John turned so his body was between Rodney and the curious eyes of the receptionist and wrapped his fingers around one of Rodney’s now impeccably attired wrists. “McKay, you’d better lose the attitude. You’re really starting to piss me off.”

Rodney gave a half-hearted tug to try and free himself and then let his arm go loose, compliant in John’s grip. “I can’t imagine why. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me today without complaint.”

John narrowed his eyes and glared, very aware of that fact. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling so annoyed with Rodney. Since their confrontation at the office where Rodney had been so comprehensively crushed, the academic had trailed after him when John had led him from shop to exclusive shop, enduring hours of trying on clothes and being measured for even more and trying to ignore the whispers and curious stares that followed them everywhere they went. John had played the part of the doting newly wed to perfection whilst Rodney had passively endured the touching and fondling required to pull off the act.

Rodney tugged again at his wrist, muttering sullenly, “You’re hurting me.”

Immediately John’s grip slackened, although he didn’t remove his hand entirely. “McKay, look at me.” He waited until Rodney raised his eyes reluctantly and then said with forced patience, “You okay? You need something?”

Rodney eyed him with barely concealed resentment. “Are you trying to tell me you care?” He dropped his gaze again. “Just leave me alone.”

The muscles in John’s jaw flexed as he fought to hold onto his temper. “McKay, I swear to God, if you don’t stop acting like a kid and shape up, I’m going to make you sorry.”

Rodney chuckled hollowly. “I honestly don’t think it’s possible for you to make me feel worse than I already do.” He turned his head away, face drawn with strain. “I just want to go ho….” He broke off sharply and swallowed several times, working to maintain his composure and eventually muttering barely audibly, “I don’t want to be here.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” John leaned closer, presenting the image of intimacy to the avid receptionist and making sure to keep his voice low enough that she couldn’t hear his words. “Look, this is our last visit this afternoon. Just suck it up for another half an hour or so and then I’ll take you back to the house.”

Rodney’s whole body tensed. “I’m sorry, and that’s meant to make me feel better how?” He shot a quick glance at the receptionist and then glared at John with scornful, hate filled eyes, hissing acerbically, “Cheer up, Rodney. Just let a strange man stick needles in you and rob you of your life’s blood and then I’ll take you away and get on with raping you.” Two patches of colour highlighted his otherwise white face. “Yes, clearly I should be enduring this hell with a song in my heart and a smile on my lips, thanking my lucky stars that I at least now have a new wardrobe that could have paid off the national debt of at least two third world countries that I can think of.”

John’s face went blank for a moment before he shot a quick glance at the receptionist to make sure she hadn’t heard the rape comment and he leaned in close to Rodney. “Do you have any sense of self-preservation at all? Stop trying to piss me off.” He tugged on Rodney’s wrist to bring him in closer when he flinched back, hissing angrily, “I keep telling you I’m not going to rape you, okay? I’m not.”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed and he hissed back, “What, you think I’m just playing hard to get when I keep saying no? I. Don’t. Want. You.” He yanked his wrist from John, poking a shaking finger into the other man’s chest. “I am never going to give my willing consent to sleeping with you; ergo, if you make me, it will be rape.” The rest of his body beginning to shake, Rodney slumped back in his chair and then reared forward again to spit contemptuously, “Moron!”

John gaped at Rodney for a moment, completely nonplussed. In all his life he had never met someone who was such a maddening mix of contradictions. Although clearly terrified of John, Rodney just couldn’t seem to make himself hold his tongue and fall into line to help his own situation. All that was required was bending his head to the wind and accepting that he was now to all intents and purposes owned by John and he just…didn’t. The more and more John saw of the scientist, the more and more he was reminded of some kind of trapped, feral animal. Claws permanently extended, swiping out instinctively in resistance, but with no real hope of defending itself against attack or of eventual victory. John’s mouth twisted in a grim snarl, determined not to give ground, no matter how hard Rodney fought him. “McKay….”

“John!” The sound of a cheerful voice had both men springing apart guiltily, Rodney once more looking terrified and John face’s still twisted in an angry grimace. A stocky, bearded man strode towards them with a hand outstretched and a wide smile on his face. “Good to see you, man. And congratulations, I was beginning to despair of you ever settling down!”

John sucked in a steadying breath and then got to his feet with a winning smile of his own, burying the simmering anger he felt towards Rodney as deep as it would go. “Carson, good to see you.” He shook the doctor’s hand enthusiastically and then turned to put a hand under Rodney’s elbow and pull him to his feet. “Rodney, this is Dr Carson Beckett, my doctor and a good friend. Carson, this is Rodney McKay, my partner.”

Carson’s eyes twinkled merrily in his face and he said with a strong Scottish brogue, “Hello there Rodney, pleased to meet you. I’d like to say that his scoundrel has told me all about you, but, och well, you’ve come as quite a surprise to all of us, laddie.”

Rodney nodded jerkily, shaking Carson’s hand with markedly less enthusiasm than John and his eyes flickering longingly towards the door. “Yes. I can imagine.” He pulled his hand from Carson’s and huddled in on himself. “Can we just get on with the bloodletting and witchcraft now, please?”

“Rodney!” John’s angry exclamation echoed around the office. “What the hell is the matter with you?” His eyes narrowed in warning, communicating that when they were alone Rodney was going to be very sorry, saying apologetically “Carson….”

“Pfft.” Carson waved a dismissive hand, eyes suddenly sharp and assessing, as he looked Rodney over. “Hmm.” Ignoring Rodney jerking back, Carson cupped his skull and peered intently into his eyes before letting go and stepping back with a nod. “Aye, I think we’d best have a look at you.” He glanced at John reassuringly as he stepped back to wave Rodney past him and towards his office. “The records all arrived this morning and I’ve managed to give them the quick once over.” He grinned in amusement at where Rodney still stubbornly stood. “And entertaining reading they were, as well. I know you’ve no love for doctors, Rodney, but I trust you’ll try and restrain yourself from biting me if I do something you don’t like, aye?”

John snapped his head round and blinked at Rodney’s white face. “You bit your doctor?”

“My records?” Rodney glared, outraged, between the two men. “My God, is nothing sacred? Who gave you permission to hand over my personal, confidential information to this…this quack?”

Carson’s jaw dropped. “Quack?”

John’s jaw kept him company. “Excuse me?” He blinked again. “Wait, seriously, you bit someone?”

“Not without cause!” Rodney held up an imperious finger, jaw sticking out pugnaciously. “And, I think you’ll find, so not the point!”

Carson’s jaw closed with a snap and his mouth curved into a wide smile when he looked between John and Rodney glaring at each other. “You know, I’m beginning to see why you two fell for each other.” He closed his hand around Rodney’s elbow and, ignoring his squawk of angry protest, tugged him firmly towards his office, saying with a laugh, “No one else could put up with either of you. John, we’ll call you when we’re done.”

And the last sight John had of his infuriating new husband was his mouth opening indignantly in his red face when Carson closed the door with finality behind them.

FIC: Loves Tangled Web (3/?), SGA crack!fic, John/Rodney, NC17

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 20:27:27 GMT

Disclaimers ect in part one.

~*~*~*

In fact, the last time Rodney saw Canada occurred almost three hours later after a blurry visit to a plush lawyer’s office, more signing his name than he’d done in ten years, and then a lightening fast visit to a very exclusive jewellers where John purchased two heavy gold wedding bands that he had placed on their respective ring fingers with a triumphant and possessive smile that sent shivers up and down Rodney’s spine. From the jewellers they had driven straight to a small private airport and Rodney had gotten out of the car in a shocky daze to find himself staring at a ridiculously expensive looking private jet and one of the largest, most intimidating men he’d ever seen in his life.

Standing well over six feet tall, a wild bush of caramel coloured dreadlocks adding more unneeded height, and a ridiculously beautiful face ineffectually hidden behind a straggly beard, the giant looked Rodney over with a faint look of bemusement, and then looked at John. “She was a lot more attractive in her pictures.”

John grinned and offered a wry shrug. “Changed my mind.” He took off his concealing sunglasses and gestured between Rodney and the giant. “Rodney McKay, Ronon Dex. Ronon Dex, Rodney McKay. Ronon’s chief of security for all my holdings and my personal bodyguard when situations call for it.” John took Rodney’s arm in a hard grip, shoving him forward when he wouldn’t move under his own power. “Rodney’s the new payoff from his father.”

Ronon grunted, looking unimpressed. “Think you were robbed.” He squinted at Rodney’s white face. “What’s wrong with him? He broken?”

“Not yet, give me time.” John urged Rodney to move again, ignoring the weak effort he made to pull away at his low mutter. “Load the bags and get us out of here. I’ll get my new bride settled in.”

This time Rodney’s effort to move away was a lot more forceful, and he found himself stumbling before he managed to find his balance. “Don’t call me that!” His eyes darted between the two surprised men, and then around the seemingly abandoned airfield. “And I hate to point out something so glaring obvious, but I can’t actually get on your penile substitute with wings without having someone in an official capacity checking my passport and having the correct papers.” His mouth snapped shut, but John managed to hear the unspoken ‘You moron.’ just fine anyway.

“Huh.” Ronon watched Rodney impassively for a moment before slanting a look at John. “Not broken, then?”

“No, not broken.” John said, smiling grimly. “Relax, your ladyship, its all taken care of. Contacts in high places, remember?”

Rodney’s eyes narrowed. He was dangerously aware that the stresses of the past two days were rapidly sending him to his breaking point and he had never been what could be called restrained when he lost what little control he had over himself. “First of all, if anyone is the girl here, it’s you, pretty boy. Secondly, think extremely carefully about any names you might want to call me, because, not only am I a certified genius scientifically, I also happen to be quite talented linguistically and it’s no hardship for me to refuse to speak in anything but the seven other languages I have a working knowledge of alongside my mother tongue for the duration of our time together, and I can insult you extensively in all of them. Repeatedly. Thirdly, you might be happy to circumvent laws and procedures for re-locating to another country, but I’m not. Amazingly I don’t have any wish to be shipped off to a holding centre the moment I set foot on American soil, so until I see hard evidence that I will be entering your godforsaken country legally and with everything above aboard, I am not getting on that plane! ”

Ronon’s eyes widened slightly and he looked between his boss and his new lover with badly concealed amusement. “You chose him over the woman?” He raised an eyebrow at John’s lethal glare. “You got some kind of head injury I don’t know about?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.” John let his eyes drift back to Rodney. “Get the bags stowed away, Ronon, and then give us a minute.”

“Gotcha.” Ronon grinned and turned towards the car. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

John and Rodney stared at each other in tense silence while Ronon grabbed all the bags -- to John’s secret annoyance without so much as a grunt of effort -- and made his way to the rear of the jet. John waited until they were alone before saying in a low tone, “You’re getting on that jet, McKay.”

“Not without the proper papers I’m not, Sheppard.” Rodney forced himself to stand firm, snatching with desperation at this last lifeline. “I don’t know what I was thinking, it takes weeks to get something like this in place and there’s no way that…what’s that?” He stared blankly at the sheaf of horribly official looking papers that John was holding out to him with one hand, and then the small familiar looking booklet in his other hand.

John smirked. “Papers.” He waved the booklet. “New passport.” He nodded towards the jet. “Get in.”

“That’s not possible.” Rodney’s mouth dropped open and he grabbed for the paperwork, feverishly leafing through it. “You need my consent, my signature.”

“Not so much.” John watched as Rodney looked up with devastated eyes, and scowled at the unexpected pang of remorse he suffered at the hopeless air surrounding the man. “I told you, I have connections. Now, you’ve had a rough couple of days so I’m going to overlook that little outburst of yours and put it down to stress, okay?” He waited patiently for a sign of acknowledgement from Rodney and smiled coldly when he finally got a jerky nod. “Good. All this may have been done in a hurry and without your knowledge, but the only people that know that are you, me and Ronon. As far as anyone official goes, this is iron clad and as legal as it gets, so you don’t have any worries about jail or anything else you might be conjuring up in that overheated brain of yours. Now.” Deftly John retrieved the papers that Rodney had snatched from him and safely stowed them away back in his jacket pocket. “I’m through arguing with you. Get on board.” He watched as Rodney licked his lips and shuddered to himself before reluctantly turning towards the short flight of steps leading up to the doorway of the jet. “Oh, and McKay?”

Rodney looked back, numb with helpless misery. “Yes?”

“You ever speak to me like that in public again and I’ll make you beg for mercy before I’m through making you pay.” John smiled pleasantly. “In whatever language strikes your fancy. Do we understand each other?”

Rodney nodded wearily, defeat in every line of his body. “Yes. I understand.”

“Good.” John nodded towards the aircraft. “Go get strapped in. We take off in fifteen minutes.”

~*~*~*

Rodney was leaving Canadian air space before he saw John again. He had stumbled up the steps to the jet, ignoring the understated luxury of the interior to take himself to the seats at the rear of the plane and fall heavily into one by a small window, automatically fastening his seatbelt before he crumpled into a disconsolate ball and stared blindly out over the airfield. He didn’t look up when Ronon and John came aboard, keeping his face determinedly averted when they made their way into the cockpit and closed the door behind them. The hum of the engines had him gripping the armrests on his seat, face rigid with tension as the jet began to taxi along to the runway, and then he was being pushed back into his seat by g-forces and he was officially no longer on his home soil and entirely at the mercy of John Sheppard. His breath came to him in frantic gulps as the plane climbed, eyes stinging with exhausted and scared tears that he fought not to let free. As they broke through the heavy clouds that had overshadowed Toronto all that morning the sun almost blinded him and he flinched at the unexpected brightness, face turning away as his eyes closed and a sob was bitten off. He could do this, he could.

When John eventually joined him, he found Rodney almost folded in half, arms wrapped around his waist and radiating sheer misery from every pore. “Hey,” John dropped into the seat opposite Rodney and stretched out his legs with a luxurious sigh. “Enjoying the flight?”

Rodney seemed to fold further in on himself and refused to look up to meet his tormentor’s eyes.

John grunted in annoyance. “Just so you know, the whole passive resistance thing really isn’t going to work for me.” He waited for Rodney to acknowledge his words and sighed irritably when not so much as a finger twitched in reply. “I’m serious, Rodney. You don’t want to make me mad again, do you?”

Rodney tensed slightly, but only tucked his chin further towards his chest and remained obstinately silent in response.

“Look, this really won’t be so bad.” John leaned forwards, pausing when Rodney flinched back like he’d been shot and snapped, “For God’s sake, what the hell do you expect me to do up here? Ronon’s twenty feet away. Relax, your virtue’s safe for the moment.” His fingers tapped restlessly on his own armrest when Rodney stayed silent. “Look, at least take off your jacket. We’ve got a few hours before we reach home and you might want to be comfortable while you’re busy sulking like a kid.” He glared at the top of Rodney’s head and snapped, “McKay!”

Rodney jerked again, finally lifting his head and looked John in the eye. Or tried to. Everything seemed to be somewhat blurrier and dimmer than usual.

John frowned. “McKay?” He took in the pale skin and sweat dampening Rodney’s hairline and frowned harder. “What’s the matter with you? You get airsick?” He stood and crossed to crouch down to the side and safely out of range of any possible barfing. “Rodney, talk to me, what’s the matter?”

Rodney swayed in his seat, mouth opening in alarm as John’s face swam in and out of focus and tried to speak, but was defeated by his tongue deciding to weld itself to the roof of his mouth. He blinked rapidly and felt himself start to topple forward, the belt at his waist cutting into his flesh cruelly and the last thing he heard before he slipped into darkness was John shouting his name.

~*~*~*

“Rodney.” Rodney frowned at the low, unfamiliar voice and tried to raise a hand to wave it into silence. God, couldn’t whoever it was see he was sleeping here? “Rodney?” The voice came closer and Rodney twitched in annoyance, reluctant to leave the cottony dimness of his sleepy brain, a vague feeling of unease fluttering in his stomach as the voice repeated urgently, “Rodney? Can you hear me? Rodney?”

“G’way.” Rodney twisted his head to the side; skin prickling in a most unsettling way as he felt warm breath on his ear and throat. “Sleepin’.” He gasped a hand curved around his jaw and his eyes flew open to see John Sheppard leaning above him, staring down in concern. “God!” He tried to turn away, arms flailing wildly and was brought up short by the curved cream wall of the jet. “What?” Rodney’s panic increased when he realised that he was stretched full length along some kind of padded bench or bed and he struggled frantically when John grabbed his shoulders and pinned him down firmly on his back. “No! Stop, I don’t -.”

“Rodney. Rodney!” John cursed under his breath as Rodney continued to fight and managed to stand up from where he had been crouched on the floor, clumsily straddling Rodney’s waist and sitting back on his thighs before capturing his wrists and forcing them back over his head. “Calm down, it’s okay. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“Get off.” Rodney bucked wildly as he found himself immobilised, legs kicking uselessly at the plane wall and the surface beneath him and his arms straining against John’s hold. “Get off me right now.” He bucked again, frightened when he realised that his brief burst of adrenaline induced energy was fading. “Please, leave me alone.”

John waited patiently until the inevitable happened and Rodney lay exhausted under him, eyes fixed on his face fearfully and breath coming in short gasps, before saying carefully, “You fainted. You’re okay, I’m not trying to hurt you.” He watched the other man for a moment before slowly relaxing the grip he had on his wrists. “I’m going to let go now and stand up, alright? I want you to stay there. Don’t try to get up. Rodney? Do you understand me?”

Rodney nodded jerkily. “Yes. Get off me.” He swallowed nervously when John didn’t move. “Please. I won’t move, just…get off.”

“Okay.” Mistrust evident in his face, John slowly let go of Rodney’s wrists and sat back and when no effort was made to try and move, climbed smoothly off his body and stood up. “There. We’re good.” He looked down quizzically. “Want to tell me what happened? I don’t think I’ve ever made anyone faint before.”

Not daring to move any part of his body below the neck, Rodney scowled and avoided John’s eyes by the simple method of turning his face to the wall. “And you haven’t now either.” He clenched his fists as John made a disbelieving noise and hissed, “And I don’t faint. I pass out.”

“Right.” John ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “An important distinction that implies this is something that happens quite a lot then?” He leaned forward and tried to catch Rodney’s reluctant eye. “McKay?”

Rodney gritted his teeth, fighting the disorientating feeling of dizziness that was the direct result of moving his head. “I have a medical condition. Nothing to do with you, so don’t flatter yourself.” He closed his eyes as he felt sweat spring out all over his body when the shaking started again. “’m hypo…hypocla-.”

“Rodney, stay with me!” John bent down and slapped lightly at Rodney’s face when his speech began to slur. “You mean you’re hypoglycemic? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Rodney fought to open his eyes. “’es.”

“Shit.” John straightened up and moved at speed towards the small galley at the back of the plane. “Jesus, why the hell didn’t you say something?” He flung open the small refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda and a wrapped sandwich before heading back at speed to Rodney. “I’m just going to help you sit up, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.” He slipped an arm under Rodney’s shoulders and ignored the murmur of protest at his touch. “It’s okay, you’ve just got to let me help you. Up we go.” He eased Rodney up and then got behind him to bring him back to rest against his chest. “Rodney, you still with me?”

“’et off.” Rodney tried to twist away. “Leave me ‘lone.”

John restrained him with ease with just one arm; awkwardly popping the tab on the soda one handed and bringing it round to Rodney’s mouth. “Sorry, I’m about as crazy about comas as I am about passive resistance. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Come on, take a sip.” He nudged the can against Rodney’s lower lip, tilting it invitingly. “McKay, work with me here.” He patiently tipped the sugary drink into Rodney’s mouth, tightening his grip around Rodney’s waist when his shaking increased. “You’re okay. You’re doing good.” Once half the can had been consumed, John propped Rodney more comfortably against his chest and brought both hands around in front to unwrap the sandwich. “Now for the good stuff.” He pulled off a small corner of the sandwich. “Open up.”

Rodney’s eyes snapped open in alarm when he felt the bread brush against his mouth. “No!” He tried to push John’s hand away. “Can’t, s’not safe.”

“Christ, I’m not trying to poison you, I’m trying to help you.” Exasperated, John caught Rodney’s wrist and pinned it down easily. “Just eat the damn thing will you?”

“No, please.” Rodney rocked his head from side to side as John tried to force the food inside him once more, moaning in distress when the motion reawakened his dizziness. “’M allergic.”

John paused and then pulled his hand away from Rodney’s mouth. “You’re allergic to bread?”

Rodney huffed impatiently, keeping one wary eye on the morsel of sandwich held between John’s fingers. “Don’ be…stupid. Lemons.”

John glowered. “Did you just call me a lemon?”

“Not you.” Rodney wearily closed his eyes again. “Me. I’m allergic…citrus.”

“Oh. Right.” John glanced briefly at the sandwich. “I think you’ll be okay. This is just turkey. That alright?”

“Y’sure?” Rodney bit his lip when his sweating increased again and he shivered. “Could be…bad.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it could be.” John brought his hand to Rodney’s mouth again, coaxing softly, “Come on. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He sighed in relief when Rodney opened his mouth and let him slip the food inside. “Good. That’s good. Go slow, okay?” He held Rodney as he chewed and then was ready with another small bite when he swallowed. “There you go. You’re doing great.” He kept up the low voiced encouragement as he fed the first half of the sandwich to Rodney, and then reluctantly allowed the other man to sit up and feed himself the rest of it when Rodney started to protest and try to squirm out of his embrace.

“So, I’m guessing there’s some things we need to discuss.” John sat by Rodney’s side watching him drink the last of the soda, keeping a close eye on his still white face. “That kinda came out of nowhere.”

Rodney hunched his shoulders in defence at the condemnation he imagined he heard in John’s voice. “Not really.” Still feeling slightly nauseous and woozy, he was no longer in any danger of passing out and could finally think again. “I got careless. It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t.” John rescued the empty can of soda from Rodney’s nervous grip and reached out to turn the other man’s face to his with an unyielding hand. “How often can I expect this to happen?”

“I told you, it won’t.” Rodney tried to jerk away, blinking furiously when his vision blurred again. “I was careless. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Right,” John’s eyes searched his face as he drawled disbelievingly, “So that little display wasn’t to teach me some kind of lesson?”

“Oh, yes.” Rodney stared incredulously, snapping with some of his usual fire, “I always decide to get one over on my enemies by letting myself slip into a hypoglycemic coma. It’s absolutely the best form of attack; what with the nausea and the disorientation and the death. What kind of a head case do you think I am?” He broke off, sagging back against the wall suddenly and gasping for air. “Oh, god, that wasn’t a good idea.” He pressed a hand against his churning stomach. “Oh, god-.”

“Deep breaths, McKay.” John clamped a hand on the back of Rodney’s neck and pushed him forward, pressing his head down towards his knees. “Just take some deep breaths. You’re alright.”

“Stop saying that.” Rodney tried to twist away, gulping air frantically as he fought not to bring up everything that he’d just consumed. “You don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to tell me.” John’s dark statement was somewhat muted by the way he brought his other hand up and rubbed circles on Rodney’s shuddering back. He waited out the shakes patiently, not letting go for a moment, and then when Rodney seemed to have himself back under moderate control he eased him back and propped him against the wall. “Better?”

“Go away.” Thoroughly miserable, Rodney closed his eyes and prayed for unconsciousness to hit again.

“We’re at fifteen thousand feet, McKay, I think you’re stuck with me.” John stood and bent to grab Rodney’s ankles, swinging them up and around as he ignored the startled squawk of protest and placed them back on the bench. “Shut up.” Still ignoring any and all protests, he unzipped Rodney’s fleece and stripped it from his shoulders, wrinkling his nose at the musky smell of unwashed man that escaped. “Jeez, you really need a -.” He froze as he tugged the oversized garment away to reveal a stretched out t-shirt and Rodney’s pale forearms, covered almost from wrist to elbows in bruises. “What the hell?”

Rodney tried to snatch his fleece back and very nearly toppled to the floor. “Give me that!”

John tossed the garment away and grabbed a flailing hand. “What?” He stared down at the bruised skin, taking in the almost black finger marks standing out lividly against the more subtle violet and red colouring the main area of flesh and then looked up at Rodney, eyes dark and unreadable. “This is from the other day.”

“Wow, nothing gets by you, does it?” Rodney’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Did you think I was struggling and yelling that I was in a great deal of pain just to keep your attention?” He scowled and tugged his hand from John’s grip, scooting back until his body was tucked into the top corner of the bench and he could draw his legs up and hide his arms between his thighs and his body. “Forget about it. I have.”

“McKay, it looks like I beat you with a stick.” John reached out to pull the abused arms out into plain view once more and stopped abruptly when Rodney flinched away. “I just want to see, alright? I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Rodney looked appalled. “Oh, my god, I knew you were one of those weird kinky lunatics that gets off on pain and blood and -.”

“I am not.” John reared back as though he’d been slapped. “I already told you that I don’t hit!”

“Ha!” Triumphant, Rodney flung up his arms and waved them in a furious blur. “Exhibit A for the prosecution!”

“I didn’t hit you!” John’s bellow echoed around the confined space of the jet and both men froze, Rodney with eyes wide and scared, and John visibly trying to hold onto his temper. “Jesus!” John scrubbed both hands through his hair in frustration. “I’ve only known you a couple of days and already I feel like taking up drinking.”

Unable to help himself, Rodney snorted. “Well think what prolonged exposure to me could drive you to. It’s in your own best interests to just cut me loose right now.” His eyes widened again as he belatedly remembered he wasn’t currently within spitting distance of terra firma. “Or when we actually land, of course. Your call.”

John gritted his teeth. “What. Happened. To. Your. Arms?”

Rodney blinked. “Uh, you did.” He eyed John with a look that was uncomfortably close to pity. “You’ve pretty much just got by on your looks until now, haven’t you? I just told you, this is normal for me.”

“That is not normal!” John ignored the condescending look and tone Rodney had adopted and reminded himself very firmly that he didn’t hit. No matter what the provocation. “I didn’t grab you that hard, there shouldn’t be anywhere near that level of bruising. In fact, I don’t think there should be much in the way of bruising at all. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh, this is my fault now, is it?” Rodney slumped harder against the wall, trying to hide just how exhausted he was and distract John from this particular line of questioning. “Is there some kind of sign on me that indicates I’d particularly enjoy becoming the victim of semi-regular assaults by a deranged psychopath with a god complex? Is it the way I part my hair? Please, don’t be shy, share with the class.”

John snarled and moved before he even registered he’d had the thought. One quick tug on Rodney’s ankles had him sliding down the bench and then he was leaning over the stunned man, hands bracketing his bruised wrists and glaring into wide blue eyes. “You have ten seconds to tell me what the hell is going on before I start making you sorry you didn’t, get me?”

Rodney yelped as the pressure increased on his wrists and nodded frantically. “Yes, yes! Okay.” He swallowed nervously when John didn’t move back. “You’ve made your point, okay? Let me up.”

John raised an eyebrow and enjoyed the panicked heaving of the chest under him and fear dilated eyes. “Five seconds.”

Rodney twisted his wrists uncertainly against John’s hold, aware that although he was most certainly not being restrained as cruelly as he had been in the recent past, he still wasn’t going anywhere. “I have a mild form of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. It causes me to bruise more extensively and my skin to tear more easily than other people’s. I also have small difficulties with some of my joints if I don’t monitor my health closely. Satisfied?”

John eyed him closely. “How serious is it?”

“Serious enough.” Rodney scowled defensively. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get a good return on your investment, I’m not about to drop dead on you or anything. Like I said, I have a very mild form.”

John laughed mockingly and finally eased back, letting go of Rodney’s wrists. “McKay, if you were a horse you’d be on your way to the glue factory by now. Stay there.” He stood, staring warningly at Rodney when the other man opened his mouth indignantly and tried to sit up. Satisfied that he would be obeyed when Rodney halted and then reluctantly lay back once more, he walked to the more conventional seats opposite and opened an overhead storage compartment. “You gave me a hell of a scare when you dropped on me, thought for a minute there you’d actually gone critical.” John took out some folded blankets and a couple of pillows and slammed the compartment shut again. “We had to put the jet on auto-pilot for a couple of moments so Ronon could come help me move you. You were totally non-responsive.”

Rodney watched warily as John came back towards him. “Really? Imagine that. Possibly slipping into a coma and not responding to the sound of your dulcet tones.” His eyes widened as John shook out the blankets. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” John laid the blankets over Rodney’s prone body and then untucked the pillows from under his arm. “Lift up for a second.” He hissed in annoyance when Rodney stared at him like he’d lost his mind and slipped a hand under his neck to raise his head and stuff the pillows under it. “There.”

“Seriously, have you got some kind of mental health condition?” Rodney gaped incredulously from where he was now reclining cosily under three fluffy blankets and against his downy pillows. “Schizophrenia? Bi-Polar Disorder? Common or garden raging lunacy?”

A genuinely amused laugh escaped John before he could stop himself. “You just never know when to quit, do you?” He folded his arms across his chest and drawled, “Before you checked out on me, I was trying to explain to you that this situation need only be as bad as you let it. You’re legally my partner now, in every way that counts, and I don’t abuse my responsibilities.”

Rodney scowled bitterly. “And that’s supposed to make this better, is it? You don’t want me, you don’t like me, and you’re using me to make my father pay for a situation that is none of my fault. Tell me again how I’m supposed to feel okay about being dragged off by you to America of all godforsaken places.”

“Really, really don’t know when to quit,” John murmured to himself and stepped closer, bending down to trace the shape of Rodney’s mouth with one long finger. “And you’re wrong about me not wanting you. That is one thing you definitely don’t have to worry about.” He studied Rodney intently as he froze and his eyes darted in panic from side to side, looking for escape. “I’m not a monster, Rodney. I can make this a pretty painless experience for you if you cooperate.”

Rodney pressed back against his pillows. “Don’t touch me.” He tried to ignore the soft feel of John’s skin against his own. “I…I’m not ready. I haven’t had enough time.”

John didn’t take his eyes from Rodney’s mouth, his lips curving in a grim smile. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression that we’re running on your schedule here.” His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, eyes darkening with intent as he lowered his head. “And you seem to be feeling better, so -.”

“Sheppard.” The sound of Ronon’s voice had John jerking upright and Rodney gasping with relief. The bodyguard stared at his boss with unreadable eyes when John glared at him in annoyance. “Came to see if I need to radio ahead for medical aid.” Pale eyes looked Rodney over, lingering on his revealed forearms and the bruising before looking back at his John again. “Well?”

“No.” John glanced at Rodney and shook his head. “Just a sugar crash. He’ll be fine after some rest.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly when Ronon continued to stand in place. “Something else? I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Yeah.” Ronon gazed implacably back, his face entirely blank of emotion. “Looks like we’re gonna be hitting some rough weather soon, might need your help. If he’s okay to be left, you’d better head up front.”

John narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure you can handle it.”

“Don’t think so.” Ronon adjusted his stance, giving the impression of a man totally unconcerned that he was speeding through thin air on a glorified tin can currently piloted by nothing more than a computer and luck, and that he was prepared to stand there all day if he had to. “It needs two of us.”

Rodney held his breath as he watched the two men, not least because he was aware that he was on a tin can piloted by a computer and as much as he wished for release from John’s clutches he wasn’t quite ready to embrace a fiery death to achieve that goal. He jumped as John abruptly turned back to him and looked mutely up in to angry hazel eyes. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when we’re coming into land.” Rodney flinched back as John leaned over him again and brought his hands up in useless defence. “Don’t think this conversation is over.” John’s gaze raked over Rodney’s face for another moment before he nodded in apparent satisfaction that he would be obeyed.

“Sheppard.” Ronon’s low rumble interrupted once more. “We should get back.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John stood up and without another look at Rodney, stalked off past Ronon towards the cockpit. “Let’s go.”

Rodney lay frozen until the cockpit door shut behind the two men, and then finally released the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. Okay, thinking about it, maybe the fiery death thing was the way to go, because if the look on John’s face had been anything to go by, being in the near vicinity of John Sheppard was no place Rodney was going want to be at any time in the immediate future.

~*~*~*

In the cockpit, John scowled as he looked up from the readings on his screen and spat, “There’s nothing showing up here. What the hell are you on?”

Ronon slouched in the co-pilot seat and looked unperturbed. “Funny, that’s what I was going to ask you.” He jerked a thumb back to indicate the jet’s cabin and met John scowl for scowl. “Thought we had a plan. He wasn’t part of it.”

A brief flicker of uneasiness showed in John’s eyes. “Plans change.” He gave his undivided attention to the screen in front of him again. “And I don’t recall having you pass judgement on how I manage my personal life being a part of any plan we made, ever.”

Ronon raised an eyebrow. “Like you said, plans change. I didn’t sign on for beatings and torture.”

“I did not torture him.” John’s enraged hiss echoed around the small room, his face flushing with fury. “He’s got stuff wrong with him, things I didn’t know about. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Yeah.” Ronon crossed his arms over his massive chest, eyes darkening with displeasure. “And it’s the next time I’m having a problem with. Thought when you had me fix his papers and passport that I was doing it because he wanted to come with us.” His mouth twisted in anger. “That is not a guy that’s here because he wants to be. What did you do to him?”

John looked for a moment as though he would strike out, but then abruptly relaxed, wry amusement showing on his face as he slumped back in his seat. “I don’t seem to recall you having this problem when it was his sister we were going to be taking back with us. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Told you, I didn’t sign on for torture.” Ronon kept himself under rigid control, only the slight snap in his voice betraying the depth of his anger. “And we weren’t going to touch his sister, remember? A few weeks of making her and her father squirm and then we were getting rid of her and taking the house and company. That was the plan.”

“Well it’s not anymore.” John looked away from Ronon’s condemning eyes and stared out into the vivid blue of the sky. “The sister was too eager. This way is better.”

“Not for McKay.” Ronon uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, the lines of his body hard and uncompromising. “This way sucks for him whatever way you look at it.”

“Yeah, well, life’s hard.” John made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and looked at his friend. “This way hits daddy dearest where it hurts. That’s what we wanted, remember? You hate the guy just as much as I do. We need to make him pay for what he’s done.”

Ronon shook his head in frustration. “I’m not arguing.” He shot a look back at the closed door behind them and then stared hard at John again. “But this is the wrong way to do it. We agreed, nobody who doesn’t deserve it should be dragged into this. People have suffered enough.”

John slammed a hand down onto his armrest, fury running him through him like wildfire. “People haven’t suffered nearly enough. My mother died because of Terence McKay; you spent years working dead end jobs trying to outrun his lies about you. This is justice.”

“Sheppard.” Ronon broke off and shook his head in anger. “This is not justice. The guy’s covered in bruises, from what I saw pretty traumatised, and he’s already collapsed on us once. Just how far are you willing to take this?”

“As far as I have to.” John’s face tightened. “His arms were…unexpected. That won’t happen again.” He looked away for a moment, and then looked back, determination and arrogance in every line of his face. “I won’t hurt him and I won’t force him, but I will keep him. Nothing’s standing in my way there, not you, not him, and not Terence fucking McKay.” He took a deep calming breath and said quietly, “So I guess the real question here is, just how far are you willing to take this? Are you still with me?”

Ronon stared searchingly into John’s face for a long time, eyes plainly troubled but looking for a reason to trust. Finally he nodded slowly. “I’m with you.” He reached out and clasped John’s arm as the other man gave a curt nod in return and returned his attention to piloting the jet. “John, don’t make me regret this. I want to be able to look myself in the eye when this is all over. Terence McKay has taken too much from me to let him have my honour as well.”

John stared blankly down at the blinking lights before him and didn’t reply. He didn’t speak again until it was time to rouse Rodney from where he had fallen into an uneasy sleep and back into his chair for landing.

~*~*~*

“We’re here.” Three hours later John’s voice startled Rodney away from his contemplation of the view from the car window and he turned his head to blink tiredly at the other man. “Remember, we’re madly in love.” John laughed mockingly. “Can’t keep our hands off each other, actually.”

“I’ll remember.” Rodney nodded and turned his head away, watching as Ronon took the last curve in a long, dusty driveway and a large white house came into view, questioning dully, “How many staff do you have?”

John eyed the back of his head for a moment before answering. “None that live in the house. My groundskeeper and stable foreman, Halling, lives over the stables with his little boy and there’s quarters for the ranch hands we have behind them. Ronon has his own place out back of the main house, and the housekeeping staff all live in town and just come in on their set days. We’re pretty isolated.”

Rodney swallowed hard as the car pulled up in front of the house. “So I see.”

John’s mouth twisted grimly. “So you’ll have me all to yourself.” He skimmed the back of Rodney’s neck with his hand, grinning coldly when he shuddered and flinched away at the touch. “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

“Sheppard.” John glanced around at the sound of Ronon’s flat voice and met the other man’s expressionless eyes in the mirror. “We’ve got incoming.”

“Mr. John!” Rodney jumped as a small boy suddenly appeared at his window and flattened his face against it, blinking in surprise when he saw Rodney, but then grinning delightedly when he looked behind him and found John. “Mr. John, you’re back!” With a yell of delight the boy disappeared from the window and shot off behind the back of the car.

“I’m warning you, McKay, make it good.” With one last glare, John flung open his car door and jumped out just in time to catch an armful of shouting kid. “Jinto, buddy! How you doing, kid?”

“Ella had her foal!” Jinto bounced excitedly in John’s embrace, uncaring that his muddy sneakers were leaving marks all over previously immaculate clothing. “It’s a boy and dad said we had to wait for you to get back to name him and you said you’d be back, like, Monday and it’s Wednesday now and he really needs a name.”

John laughed, turning as he heard Rodney open his car door and jerked his head to indicate the stranger. “Well, I was kinda busy, pal.” He lowered his voice to a confiding whisper. “I had to get married and stuff.”

“No way.” Jinto looked terribly impressed for a moment before staring in surprise at Rodney. “He’s not a girl!” He looped a comfortable arm around John’s neck and tilted his head doubtfully. “You really married him?”

“Totally did.” John grinned and bounced the boy one more time before letting him slip to the ground. “Come say hi.” He ushered Jinto back around the car, pulling a disgusted face. “And why would I marry a girl? I thought it was just us men here on the ranch. You know what would happen if we let a girl live here?”

Jinto burst into giggles and shook his head. “No, what?”

“There’d be cleaning. Washing up before meal times.” In a voice laden with doom, John proclaimed, “Baths.”

“Ugh!” Jinto screwed up his nose and played along with relish. “I bet she’d make us plant flowers and paint stuff pink, too.” He nodded wisely up at John. “I think it was a pretty good idea to marry a guy then. Are you gonna kiss him?”

“Every chance I get, buddy.” John ruffled the mop of brown hair and smiled at Rodney as they drew level with him. “Rodney, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Jinto.”

Rodney regarded the dirty face lifted to his and tried to smile. “Hello.” He shifted uncomfortably as two brown eyes fixed on him intently. “It’s, er…John’s -.” He flicked a nervous look at John and chewed on his lower lip as he cast about for something to say that wasn’t ‘Take a hike, you snot nosed little brat.’ He shot another panicked look at John. “I, um -.”

“Hello.” Jinto wiped one grubby hand off on the equally grubby ass of his jeans and held it out expectantly. “I’m very pleased to meet you. Welcome to our home.”

Rodney stared at the hand, at Jinto’s face and then back to his hand. “What?”

John burst out laughing. “Okay, what’d you break?”

“Nuthin’!” Indignant, Jinto scowled up at the men. “I’ve got manners, don’t I?”

“Not that we’ve noticed before.” Ronon’s deep rumble had the annoyed expression melting off Jinto’s face when he joined the small group and he grinned down at the boy. “Hey.”

“Ronon!” Forgetting all about the mocking of his social skills, Jinto hurled himself at Ronon’s legs and proceeded to climb him like a tree. “Guess what? Ella had her foal and it’s a boy and we don’t got a name for him yet because you and Mr. John were late getting home and dad said we had to wait for you, but he’s real pretty so I think we should call him something nice. I like Star, what do you think?”

Ronon winced as his dreadlocks doubled as handy ropes for the pesky last few inches of Jinto’s climb and slipped one arm beneath the boy’s butt to alleviate the pressure on his scalp. “I think you’ve put on weight. You been eating all the candy while I’ve been gone?”

“He has not.” Rodney turned at the sound of a warm male voice and stared as another huge man wearing denim shirt and jean and a gentle smile joined them. “And I would appreciate you not leaving him ridiculous amounts of chocolate when you are away in future, or the next time he is sick to his stomach all over our furniture I will move us into your house and leave the mess in ours for you to deal with when you return.”

Ronon looked sheepish. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ronon….” Jinto tugged on his dreadlocks and stage whispered, “…I really barfed. It was totally gross.”

The man laughed, nodding grave agreement. “It certainly was.” He brushed back his long, fair hair and held out his hand to John. “Mr. Sheppard. Did you have a good trip?”

“Hey, Halling. Yeah, pretty good.” John grinned, ignoring Ronon and Jinto descending into a furious whispered argument in the background, and reached out to slip an arm around Rodney’s shoulders, drawing him forwards. “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Rodney McKay.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Rodney’s temple. “My partner.”

If Rodney hadn’t been watching for it he would have missed the brief flash of shock in Halling’s eyes before he caught himself. As it was, the moment passed so swiftly he was almost convinced he had imagined it when the taller man smiled again and held out a much cleaner hand than his son’s. “Congratulations. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McKay.”

Rodney tried to smile and clasped Halling’s hand briefly. “You too.” He shifted nervously under John’s arm, stopping abruptly when it tightened in warning. “You…you have a delightful child.”

Halling looked fondly over at his son, now dangling upside down by his ankles and squealing as Ronon swung him from side to side, saying dryly, “Thank you. I hope you still think so when he is once again vomiting uncontrollably in the near future.”

Ronon looked up and snorted. “He’ll be fine.” He swung Jinto a little faster. “I’ve been training him.”

John laughed and held Rodney tighter to his side when he tried to unobtrusively free himself. “Well, I’ve had about all I can take for today with people threatening to lose their lunches, so put him down, okay?” He waited until Ronon obeyed over Jinto’s protests, and then glanced at Halling. “Is there anything that needs me to look it over right away?”

“No, nothing that can’t wait.” Halling’s honest eyes filled with concern as he looked between Rodney and John. “Someone has been ill?” He looked Rodney over carefully. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Rodney got a little sick on the jet.” John rubbed his hand over Rodney’s upper arm, giving him a worried look that, if Rodney hadn’t known he was giving an award winning performance, would have convinced him that he was desperately anxious for his lover’s health. “He’s got a medical condition that makes life a little difficult if he forgets to eat, and with all the excitement of getting packed up to come home we got a little careless.”

“I see.” Halling’s teeth flashed white in his beard as he smiled down at Rodney from his lofty height. “I am sure now that you are home Mr Sheppard will be able to see to your needs more satisfactorily.”

John laughed, not offended at the blatant innuendo. “You better believe it.” He cupped Rodney’s face and pressed a light kiss to his pinched mouth. “Let’s forget about the grand tour today. I think it’s a better idea to get you fed and packed off to bed. You still look a little pale.”

Feeling trapped and overwhelmed, Rodney met John’s eyes mutely, every one of his instincts screaming at him to shove the other man away and just run. Now that the moment of truth was finally upon him, he wasn’t sure that he could force himself to go through with turning himself over to John so completely. “I…I don’t think-.”

“Come on, Rodney.” John saw the panic welling up in Rodney’s eyes and kissed him silent, voice lowering to a murmur, “You’ll feel better after you’ve rested. Halling, Jinto, we’ll catch you later. Ronon, can you grab the bags and deal with the car?”

Ronon looked between his boss and Rodney’s stricken face. “I can do it later.”

“I think Rodney will feel better having his stuff around him.” John kept his voice mild for the sake of Halling and Jinto, but his eyes were flint hard as he looked at Ronon. “Do it now.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Jinto edged forward and peered up at Rodney with interest. “He doesn’t look so good.” The child looked vaguely sympathetic and tugged on Rodney’s pants leg to get his attention. “I got sick when I went on the jet, too. Ronon gave me coke and I threw up all over my dad and it got in his hair.”

Halling smiled ruefully and retrieved his son with one large hand, even as he sent an apologetic look towards Rodney. “I’m sure Mr. McKay doesn’t need to hear this at the moment. Let’s go and check on Ella and her foal, and let everyone get settled in.”

Rodney watched despairingly as father and son left, Jinto sending longing glances back over his shoulder in John’s direction, and then startled as John urged him forwards. “I…I…don’t think-.”

“Relax, McKay,” Although there was none of the faked affection evident in his tone that he had displayed in the presence of his employees, John’s voice was still low and calm as he overrode Rodney’s protests and moved him towards the house. “I meant what I said, food and rest. I can promise you that I’m not into necrophilia, either. You’re looking pretty bad there.” He glanced briefly at Ronon as they passed the bigger man. “Do what I said.”

“Sheppard.” Ronon caught his employer’s arm, halting his progress to say warningly, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He glanced at Rodney, brows lowering at the sight of his obvious distress. “And I’ll stay in the house to fix something to eat for him.”

John raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the hand on his arm and waiting until it was removed to reply mildly, “Appreciate it. Be careful what you use, remember his allergies. Let’s go, McKay.”

Pleadingly, Rodney stared back at Ronon as he was led towards the house and nearly moaned when the bodyguard stared back at him expressionlessly for a few moments before deliberately turning away. His entry to the house and subsequent climbing of the curving stairs in the hallway passed in a blur as he tried to control his breathing and not give in to a panic attack. John still had an arm curved around his shoulders, now more of a restraint and nothing to do with faked affection, and he stumbled as he was steered away from the top of the stairs and down a bright hallway. “Here we are.” Disregarding Rodney balking at the wooden double doors he indicated, John turned the handle and pushed one door open, pulling him inside. “This is our room.”

Rodney twisted away from the arm around his shoulders, backing away as John shut the door behind them. “I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t think I can do this.” His eyes widened in alarm as his retreat brought him up against a huge wooden bed and he rebounded painfully off the corner and away towards one of several large picture windows flooding the room with light. “I just…it’s…no, don’t!” He held his hands up in alarm as John followed him across the room. “Please, I really can’t, this just isn’t -.”

“McKay, breathe.” John batted Rodney’s hands away as he tried to fend him off and neatly herded him up against the wall separating two windows, bracketing his head with braced arms and carefully not touching him. “I told you, nothing is going to happen now.” He studied the other man’s wild eyes and fear flushed face and shook his head wryly. “Man, you’re just no good under pressure, are you?” He placed one hand over Rodney’s mouth as it opened and said firmly, “Shut up. Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to take a shower and change your clothes, and then you’re going to have something to eat and get some rest.” His hand tightened fractionally as Rodney shook his head and tried to protest. “Yes. If I have to, I will call my physician out here and have you sedated. You’re here and you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. Nod if you understand me.”

With eyes huge over John’s hand, Rodney nodded jerkily.

“Good.” Satisfied, John released him and eased back. “Bathroom’s over there through those doors. Ronon will bring your clothes up soon. Go.”

Rodney looked where John was pointing and saw another set of double doors on the far side of the room. “Will I…you won’t -?”

John frowned, and then his face flooded with amused comprehension. “Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would I? Don’t worry, you’ll have your privacy.” He cupped Rodney’s jaw and then trailed the hand over his throat and on over his chest, fingers moving suggestively against the fleecy material. “When I see you naked it’s going to be because I made you that way, not because I caught a glimpse of you taking a shower.” Rodney’s breath hitched as the hand trailed lower, his eyes widening as John smoothed the material covering one hip. “Oh, yeah, there’ll be nothing accidental about it at all.”

“You said you wouldn’t!” Accusingly Rodney glared, not quite daring to try and shove past John when he saw the flush of lust darken the other man’s face. “I’m still sick. I have a condition.”

John laughed low in his throat and moved forward to press his hips against Rodney’s. “Tell me about it.” He pushed the evidence of his condition against Rodney’s frozen body, smiling ruefully at the lack of positive reaction from the other man. “But it looks like I’m on my own here for the moment.” He pressed a hard kiss to Rodney’s mouth, swallowing his shocked complaint and then stepped back. “Go on. Get out of here.”

Rodney scrubbed furiously at his mouth with the back of his hand as he dodged past John and practically ran towards the bathroom. “McKay?” He made himself turn at the sound of John’s voice and stared warily back from the threshold of the bathroom. “Don’t close the door all the way.” Forcing a nod of acknowledgement, Rodney turned away and entered the other room, feeling sick to his stomach at the look of dark desire in John’s eyes when he gave his command.

John waited until the door shut almost all the way in the frame and the sounds of his shower starting up could be heard before he allowed himself to frown and raise a hand to his lips. Unlike Rodney, he didn’t scrape desperately at the skin, just lightly traced the outline of his mouth with one finger and then turned to stare blindly out of the window into the late afternoon sun.

~*~*~*

End of Part 3.

FIC: Loves Tangled Web (2/?), SGA crack!fic, John/Rodney, NC17

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 03:00:51 GMT

Disclaimer and other niceties are in part one.

~*~*~*

Two days later, Rodney was back in Toronto, no nearer to finding a solution to his predicament. He had spent the hours since he’d had last seen John Sheppard slinking between the university and his apartment like a third rate spy convinced that every shadow held a threatening bush of hair and vindictive hazel eyes just waiting to catch him unawares and spirit him away, never to be seen again. He had been distracted and irritable at school, wasting the precious hours he had managed to pay for that semester by zoning out in his lectures reliving his disastrous weekend spent at his family home, and then flinching like a scalded cat at every unexpected noise and movement.

The scene at his parent’s house when John had driven them back and then marched him inside had been unpleasant to say the least. Perhaps fortunately, Rodney couldn’t remember more than a few specifics of the seemingly unending confrontation. The look on his father’s face when Sheppard had finally revealed his true identity had done more to convict Terence in Rodney’s eyes than any accusations John had thrown at him. Jeannie and his mother had been no better, especially after John had so callously lied that he had already cemented his physical relationship with Rodney and there would now be no chance of a more conventional alliance between him and the McKays.

Rodney had jerked in his seat, tearing his eyes away from his father’s grey face, and had tried to splutter an indignant denial, but his obviously bruised mouth and disordered clothing had leant credence to John’s story that his sister and mother obviously found lacking in his own, and Jeannie had stormed from the room shooting him a look of disgust and questioning bitterly just who was the whore now? After that, there had been only a confused whirl of colour and noise for Rodney and he had eventually come out of his daze to find himself walking back out to John’s car to be driven back to the bus station where his requested forty-eight hours of alone time were to begin.

He had used every resource at his disposal to try and find some leverage against John, frantically searching for anything that might aid him out of his current situation. Always aware of the clock ticking ever onwards, Rodney had also gone over his own affairs with a fine tooth comb, trying to see if there was any way that what he had so obsessively hidden for the past few years could be discovered if someone looked hard enough. When he had finally reached the conclusion that, although unlikely, someone with resources that far outstripped his own, and with enough time and money could find out the real reason he had disowned his father, he had barely fought off a severe panic attack and the urge to head for the nearest airport and go straight into hiding.

Jeannie had finally returned his calls after an excruciating thirty-seven hours of calling her every hour on the hour, and although they had both indulged in a savage and malicious argument they had finally managed to restore some kind of peace between them, with Jeannie urging him eventually to think seriously about the life that John was offering and the future it might one day secure him. She had been dismissive of her own impending destitution, airily waving away the possibility of homelessness with assurances that she was more than capable of finding her own way in the world and certainly more than capable, if she failed on her own behalf, of finding some other poor schmuck to make her way for her. When Rodney had angrily yelled that their parents were somewhat less flexible physically and not guaranteed an easy path through life by virtue of how many sexual parlour tricks they had up their sleeves, Jeannie had tinkled laughter down the phone, informed Rodney that after John’s revelations she rather thought their father had it coming, and then announced that she was off to Europe with one of her back up boyfriends until the whole situation had blown over. Then she hung up on him.

Rodney was forced to concede in hindsight that implying his sister was some kind of high priced good time girl yet again was not the most sensible way to go about enlisting her aid in finding a way to protect their family from Sheppard.

He hadn’t even tried to contact his parents. After spending the years away from his family convinced that he couldn’t possibly feel more loathing and disgust for his father than he already did, Rodney was almost frightened by the pathological hatred that swept through him every time his thoughts lingered on Terence’s betrayal of his ex-business partner. For the first time in his life, Rodney had seen his father look every one of his years when John had confronted him at the house, and hadn’t even bothered to listen to Terence’s heated denials – and then later defence – of his past actions once he had caught the look of swiftly hidden guilt in his father’s eyes. He wasn’t totally convinced that his mother understood the depths to which her husband had sunk to in his quest for power and money. It seemed unlikely given that nothing much had penetrated her perfectly groomed head for years except mild concern at where the next numbing drink was coming from and whether she could get away with wearing the same cocktail dress twice within the same social season without offering herself up for ridicule to the human vultures that made up the circle of her very closest friends.

Which left Rodney exactly nowhere. Without allies, without any tangible or realistic resources to fight John on an equal footing, and with the problem of being the lone, unknown defender of the one person connected to Terence McKay who was possibly more innocent in this terrible situation than he was.

He had dragged himself back to his apartment after yet another failed attempt to find something -- anything -- that he could use against Sheppard, three hours past the deadline given by the man and fighting the violent urge to be sick every time he had taken the contact information John had supplied out of his pocket and stared at it with hollow eyes. His head was down as he trudged up the stairs that would take him to his attic level apartment, eyes stinging from staring too long at computer screens and head throbbing from sorting through piles and piles of data that had been precisely no help whatsoever. All he wanted was something to eat that came out of a packet complete with a reassuring level of e-numbers, a hot shower and some sleep. Unfortunately it appeared that the gods had other plans for him.

“Rodney.” He looked up at the soft calling of his name and blinked tiredly at Teyla Emmagen, his neighbour across the hall, when she stuck her head out of her door upon hearing his heavy tread on the threadbare stairs. “I have been waiting for you.”

Rodney straightened up, suddenly aware of the rather musty smell of clothes that he hadn’t changed since the day before, and tried to smile. “Oh, Teyla.” He finally reached the top of the stairs with a sigh of relief and lowered the heavy rucksack that was stuffed with his laptop and usual books to the floor, groaning as his sore shoulder twinged unbearably in protest. “Look, I know I haven’t been around much, but…wait, what are you doing?” He looked puzzled as Teyla narrowed her eyes at him before slipping to the side and behind him, placing her deceptively strong hands on his shoulders and upper back. “Um, Teyla, much as I appreciate this sudden and unexpected…. Good God, woman, are you trying to kill me?” Rodney twisted when a savage burn suddenly tore across his already tortured body and white-hot needles of pain flew up and down his spine. “I keep telling you not to practise that abuse you call physical therapy on me, you spiteful little witch!” He yelped with pain when Teyla huffed behind him and dug her fingers into his bunched muscles. “God, are you are trying to kill me. Is this about the shower thing? I swear, I didn’t know you were in there; I thought you were calling for help. I…aaah!” Rodney yelped again and then blinked in surprise when he found himself pain free and surprisingly in one piece when Teyla dug once more with her hands and his spine magically eased when the muscles bunched up around it, relaxed. “Oh.” He rolled his shoulders experimentally and stared in wonder at Teyla as she reappeared in front of him with an exasperated expression and her hands on her hips. “That’s amazing.”

Teyla’s mouth quirked in dry amusement and she said with exaggerated patience, “No, Rodney. That is the result of several intensive years of study of the human body and applied knowledge and skill that I gained through hard work and considerable sacrifice.”

Rodney snorted. “Ha! Witchcraft and luck you mean. When you’ve narrowly escaped blowing yourself to kingdom come for the third time in a week trying to prove that the entire system for thermo nuclear physics is a complete crock and all your supposed betters aren’t fit to lick the bottom of your shoes, then we’ll talk.” He paused, rolled his shoulders again and added grudgingly, “But thanks. I’m almost sure that I didn’t really need all those vertebrae anyway.”

Teyla made an impatient noise halfway between a snort and a laugh and shook her head. “Child.” She reached out as Rodney bent to pick up his bag and caught his arm. “Wait, there is something that -.”

“Teyla, I really appreciate you helping me out, but I’m two steps away from falling asleep right here and now, and as I haven’t eaten properly in hours there’s a good chance that I’ll slip into a coma and die right here on the landing. I’m fairly sure that stepping over my decomposing corpse for however long it takes for our miserable excuse for a landlord to notice and clear me away will cause you some inconvenience, if not outright distress, so I’m going to have to say goodnight, and if I make it through the night I’ll knock in the morning before I go to the university.” Rodney flashed a tired smile at his friend and gently disengaged her hand before snagging his bag and backing towards his apartment door. “I promise, death aside, first thing in the morning.”

“Rodney.” Teyla caught Rodney’s arm again and pursed her mouth disapprovingly. “I am trying to tell you that -.”

“Hello, McKay.”

Rodney jerked as he heard John Sheppard’s voice and stared in horror over Teyla’s head as she continued wearily, “-that you have a visitor. He has been waiting for you for some time.”

John smiled toothily and tapped the face of his wristwatch. “Three hours and twenty-two minutes to be precise. Thought we had a date?” He raised an expressive eyebrow at Rodney as the other man continued to gape at him and stepped out of Teyla’s small apartment to lay one hand lightly on her shoulder. “Although, Miss Emmagen was kind enough to invite me to wait with her once I’d explained who I was.”

“Who you were?” Rodney blinked furiously, trying to engage his brain. “You told her who you were?”

“Sure, why not?” John stepped smoothly past Teyla and moved to Rodney’s side, suddenly making the tiny landing between the two apartments seem that much smaller. “Although it was pretty embarrassing trying to explain to your friend that you had a partner you hadn’t actually told anyone about.” He laid a hand against the back of Rodney’s neck, squeezing in warning to stop the automatic attempt at withdrawal and pressed his mouth hard and fast to Rodney’s open one. “I thought we agreed that it was a done deal between us?”

“A done deal?” Rodney shook off John’s hold and rounded on Teyla. “Are you insane? You don’t know this guy from Adam and you just let him into your apartment because he says he knows me? What if he’d hurt you? Attacked you?”

Teyla looked thoroughly startled at Rodney’s sudden animosity and took an uncertain step back. “He showed me identification and produced a picture of you from his wallet.” She smoothed her hands down her denim clad thighs and tilted her head in query. “That is what you told me to ask for, was it not? You were very clear on always asking for the identification of any unknown individuals that knocked on my door, and I thought when he showed me your picture that it was sufficient evidence to prove his claim of a friendship with you.” Her brows drew together in condemnation and she finished stiffly, “In my culture it is considered impolite to leave friends waiting without sustenance or comfort. Is this not so here?”

“Of course it is.” John smiled warmly at her and took Rodney’s arm in a vicelike grip. “Rodney’s just concerned, that’s all. We surprised him.”

Nearly given him a cardiac arrest was nearer the truth, but in light of John Sheppard manhandling him yet again, Rodney was willing to concede the point. His brows snapped together when he belatedly realised something else. “Partner?”

Teyla, looking a little confused by the obvious tension and still smarting from Rodney’s outburst, nevertheless smiled as she looked between the two men. “I am glad for you, Rodney. It is good to know that you are no longer allowing yourself to be so isolated.”

“Isn’t it?” John nodded in warm agreement, tugging sharply to bring Rodney off balance and into his side. He wrapped a restraining arm around Rodney’s shoulders and beamed at Teyla. “Even managed to get him to take me home and meet the folks.”

“That is…good.” Teyla’s smooth face creased in bewilderment before she questioned hesitantly, “I thought you were without family connections, Rodney?”

Rodney stopped trying to subtly get out from under John’s arm, muttering sullenly, “I wish.” He jabbed John sharply in the side with a bony elbow and was rewarded with a surprised grunt and the heavy arm around him dropping away. “Anyway, lovely as this was, I really must be saying good night. You too, Teyla!” Rodney planted his hands on his friend’s shoulders and bundled her without care backwards into her apartment. “Don’t forget to lock the door! In fact, just to be on the safe side, put a chair under the handle. Better yet, your wardrobe!”

Teyla stumbled back, tripped over her welcome mat and fell heavily to the floor. “Rodney!”

Rodney rolled his eyes and hurriedly pulled her to her feet. “Clumsy, clumsy!”

“Rodney, what are you doing?” Teyla’s irritated and outraged glare swept over Rodney’s flushed and worried face and then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Rodney, is something the matter?” She shot a look over his shoulder at John, and her suspicion increased. “Is this man not who he says he is? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Rodney met her sharp gaze blankly before giving a high-pitched and thoroughly strangled laugh. “Trouble? Don’t be so ridiculous.” Very aware of John’s eyes boring warning holes in his back and desperate to get Teyla out of sight and -- hopefully -- out of John’s mind, he stuttered, “I’m just…it’s…well, I -.”

“It’s been a couple of days since we’ve seen each other.” John stepped back inside Teyla’s small apartment with an apologetic smile and said with roguish mischief, “We’re still kinda at the honeymoon stage.” He winked broadly and slipped his arm around Rodney’s stiff shoulders once more. “You understand.”

Teyla relaxed, chuckling throatily at the flush that swept over Rodney’s cheeks, unfortunately just as easily explained away as frustrated lust rather than irritation and mild panic. “Of course. You need not explain further.” She smiled sweetly at Rodney. “I am happy for you, my friend. Go, I will see you in the morning.”

John winked again. “Better make it afternoon. It’s been a long two days.” He held out a hand expectantly. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Emmagen. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see that Rodney has someone here in the city that cares so much about him and that he obviously cares so much about in return.” He shook Teyla’s hand firmly. “Really, really happy.”

“Please, you must call me Teyla.” Looking slightly disconcerted at John’s vehement delight in her fondness for Rodney, Teyla’s eyes flickered between Rodney’s rigid face and John’s beaming one. “I would not wish to stand on false ceremony with someone so important to my friend.”

“Great.” John beamed and tugged Rodney towards the door. “And you must call me John.” He shot her another winning smile, saying with pointed cheerfulness intended entirely for Rodney’s notice alone, “Now I know where to find you, I’m sure we’ll see each other again, Teyla.”

“I will look forward to it.” Teyla watched John herd Rodney out of her door with amused indulgence, putting her friend’s appalled expression down to one of embarrassment at the thought of Teyla exchanging bawdy innuendo with his lover rather than terror for her safety. “Enjoy your evening, Rodney.”

“What?” Rodney shook off his paralysis and looked helplessly back at Teyla. “No, wait, I -.” He jumped as John grabbed the door and with one last knowing smirk at Teyla, jerked it closed. “Teyla!”

“Doesn’t need to see this.” John dropped the smile and stared with hard eyes at Rodney. “Move it, McKay.” He stepped forward, radiating satisfaction when Rodney gasped and stumbled away from him, crashing into his own apartment door. “You don’t really want that nice woman knowing the truth, do you?” Keeping his voice low, John followed Rodney forward, crowding him back against the wooden door until there wasn’t an inch of space left between their bodies. “Open the door, Rodney, let me in.”

Rodney twisted his head to the side, mouth screwing up in revulsion at the feel of John’s breath on his skin. “Do I look stupid to you? I’m not letting you in anywhere.” He managed to worm his hands between their bodies and shoved at John’s chest. “Get off me.”

“McKay.” The low, warning rumble of John’s voice made shivers run up and down Rodney’s spine and his hands tingle where he felt the vibrations through the other man’s fitted, long-sleeved t-shirt. “I’ve been hanging around this flea pit waiting for you for hours, do not test my patience anymore. Open the damn door and let me in before I do something I promise you’ll regret.” He grunted as Rodney shoved him again, and then in a flurry of impatient movement, grabbed Rodney’s wrists, jerked hard and had the other man turned and immobilised face forward against the wall before he could even voice a protest. “Fine. We’ll do it the hard way.” Ignoring Rodney’s pained gasps and jerky struggles as he twisted one arm painfully up between his shoulder blades, John briskly patted his hand over Rodney’s fleecy jacket and the pockets of his jeans before making a sound of triumph and shoving his hand into the front left one and pulling out Rodney’s key chain. “There we go.” Cheerfully, John released Rodney’s wrist, wrapped his arm around the other man’s throat to hold him still and fitted the likeliest looking key in the door. “Gotcha!” He shoved the door open and then pushed Rodney into the dark space inside. “Get some lights on, I’ll get your bag.”

Rodney caught himself before he crashed to the floor, turned around half intending to try and tackle John back out into the hallway and then froze when John threw his bag at him and slammed the door shut, plunging the room into darkness. “Oh my god, are you crazy?” Rodney clutched his bag to his chest protectively, outrage written in every line of his body. He struck out furiously when the black on black shadow that was John loomed up in front of him, and was rewarded with startled grunt of pain and the shape falling away again. “You complete and utter bastard!” He moved on sure feet through the pitch-black room, leaving John cursing and stumbling over himself behind him, and reverently placed his rucksack on the card table that served as his desk and dining area when at home. “If there is even one file damaged by your carelessness, I swear I will make you sorry.”

John made his clumsy way back towards the door, slapped at the wall furiously and, more by luck than judgement, managed to locate the light switch. A rather nasty orange coloured hue chased away the darkness and allowed him to see Rodney standing hunched over a laptop, crooning frantically under his breath as he booted it up and checked for damage. “McKay.”

Rodney didn’t look up, his eyes riveted to the screen and fingers tapping unhappily on the table next to the laptop. “Shut up. Give me a minute. Do you have any idea of how delicate this thing is? How much data I might have lost thanks to you playing catch with my life’s work? Come on, come on…yes.” Humming happily to himself, Rodney was oblivious to John stalking up behind him. “That’s it. Come on now. No need for the nasty blue screen, was there? I know you’re tired, but…Oh!” He jumped as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder and looked up to see John glaring down at him. “What are you…No!” Seeing John raise his other hand, Rodney made the snap assumption that he’d finally managed to push the man past the limits of his patience and that he was about to be on the wrong end of a closed fist. He jerked upright, shoved John away as hard as he could and then stood with arms wide apart, his body braced protectively in front of his laptop. “Don’t you dare. This piece of equipment is old and incredibly delicate and it won’t take any more rough treatment.”

John’s face darkened ominously as he righted himself. “What the hell are you talking about?” His hands came up again. “I thought I made myself clear when -.”

Rodney snatched up his laptop and skittered away to one side, yelling anxiously, “I mean it! I don’t care if you hit me, you animal, just don’t damage my computer!” He dodged around a sagging armchair and braced himself for attack, hands in a white-knuckled grip on his precious computer.

“Hit you?” John looked completely baffled for a moment, before glowering furiously at the defiant man cradling his beloved equipment like his first-born child. “I wasn’t going to hit you!”

“Right,” With heavy sarcasm dripping from every word, Rodney snorted. “Of course not. Clearly I have nothing to fear from the man that keeps sexually assaulting me and has me held against my will in my own damn apartment.” He glared at John. “I’m totally over-reacting. Obviously you’re a veritable prince amongst men.”

John’s fists clenched and he opened his mouth to retort before visibly forcing himself to stop and take a deep breath. And another one. After he had taken a third and let it out, he fixed unreadable eyes on Rodney’s wary face and said, “Okay, just for the record, I don’t go around beating my sexual partners.” He held up a hand to stop Rodney’s outraged denial of his implied status, saying firmly, “Future or otherwise. Regardless of how I feel about you or your father personally, McKay, I will never, ever strike you, okay?”

“Oh yes, much better.” Rodney sneered from his uncertain protection behind the chair. “Really. Just give me a second to put my computer away and I’ll be throwing myself into your arms post haste. If only you’d mentioned this when you were trying to break my arm and threatening to rape me it would have made the whole experience much less upsetting to know that you’d never let yourself cross that unforgivable moral line of blacking my eye.”

John looked like he’d been slapped for a moment before a heated, amused smile stretched his mouth. “Believe me, Rodney, when I take you, it won’t be rape.” He let his hot gaze rove over the other man, shaking his head in amazement when he took in the well-formed shoulders and visible smooth skin. “Jesus, I can’t believe I was going to settle for your sister.”

It was Rodney’s turn to look like he’d been slapped…possibly with some kind of decomposing small animal. “In the entire history of her time on earth, no one has ever settled for Jeannie McKay, you misbegotten primate. You would have been lucky to even breathe the same air as her.” His brain finally caught up with his outraged defence of his sister and he snapped, “And stop looking at me like that. Get out!”

John laughed and ignored the command. “Oh yeah, you are definitely the one for me.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Look, I’m not going to do anything to your precious computer, alright? Put it down and let’s discuss this situation like reasonable adults.”

“Or, you could get the hell out of my home and disappear back to where you came from.” Rodney mustered up a completely insincere smile. “Just a suggestion.”

“So noted.” John nodded agreeably and tilted his head questioningly. “If you prefer, I could take it off you. I can’t guarantee that there won’t be some collateral damage though. Your choice.”

Rodney stopped the insincere smiling and eyed John nervously, blatantly assessing his chances if it came down to another physical match between them. His eyes flickered around his small living room, searching either for escape or some kind of weapon, and then moved back to John. “I put it down and you swear not to do anything to it?”

John raised an eyebrow. “McKay, I can promise you, the last thing that interests me in this rat-trap is your computer.”

Looking anything but reassured, Rodney hesitated for another few moments before edging towards the small archway that led to his kitchenette and the battered wooden chest that stood there. Keeping John in his sights at all times, he slowly bent and flicked the clasp to release the lock and then hastily raised the lid the smallest necessary amount and slipped his laptop inside. He paused in straightening up and shot John another suspicious look before grabbing a pile of books from the floor and placing them deliberately on top of the chest.

John stifled a grin. “Better now?” He peered with interest at the chest and books and enquired politely, “Want an extra couple of minutes to booby-trap it with a house plant or two? You can’t be too careful with home security these days.”

Rodney flushed and stood up, wrapping his arms defensively around his torso. “Yes, I’ve noticed that. What with the exciting turn my own evening seems to have taken with the whole assault and kidnapping I’m experiencing. Again.”

John looked even more amused, drawling, “I think it’s technically only a kidnapping if I actually take you somewhere.” He watched as Rodney sidled away from his chest, unsubtly trying to draw John’s attention from its precious contents. “Off to safe guard your CD collection, now?”

Rodney shot him a poisonous glare, stepped up the sidling and ended up near the lone window in the room, still huddled in his own embrace. “Just say what you have to say and then get out.”

A faintly annoyed expression flickered across John’s face before he looked around himself disdainfully. “So. This is where you live.” His eyes cut to Rodney and then flickered over the marked and tattered furniture and the scientific journals and books scattered over every available surface. “Not what I was expecting.”

Rodney swallowed and lifted his chin proudly. “Well, if I’d known you were following me I’d have made sure to lead you to the townhouse or country mansion.” He flushed as John reached out, dragging a finger along one bookshelf and then wiped off the resulting dusty residue on his pants with a grimace of distaste. “Yes, well, there isn’t always time to do household chores when the entire basis of established physics is about to be completely redefined.”

John looked over at him and smiled grimly. “Then it’s pretty fortunate that I’m willing to step in and save you from all those nasty humdrum day to day details, isn’t it? How soon can you be packed?”

“I don’t need saving, and I’m not going anywhere with you!” Rodney’s exasperated denial echoed loudly in the cramped space and he clenched his fists at his sides, determined that he wouldn’t give in this time. This was his own ground, damn it. Here he was safe from his parents, their life and troubles. Here he was Rodney McKay, genius physicist, and he would not submit to a bullying pretty boy who thought his money and power bought him anything he desired. He would find some way to cover his tracks -- and those of other people -- and tomorrow morning he was packing some essentials and buying a plane ticket to the furthest destination from John Sheppard that he could. “I want you to leave!”

Far from looking annoyed, John actually looked amused at Rodney’s renewed rebelliousness. “Yeah, I know.” He turned from Rodney and examined a lone snapshot of Teyla, Rodney and a small, tousled looking man standing outside what appeared to be some kind of school building. “I’m not going to.” He picked the framed picture up and turned to show it to Rodney. “Boyfriend?”

“No!” Rodney jumped forward and snatched the picture from John’s hand, shoving it protectively in the pocket of his fleecy jacket. “And even if he was it’s none of your business. Get out!”

“I already told you.” John strolled towards the couch and dropped down on it with a pleased smirk. “Not going to happen.” He frowned slightly and leaned forward to grope behind himself giving a satisfied grunt when he fished out a tattered sneaker from behind his back. “Yours?”

Rodney glared, swiped the shoe and pointed dramatically at the door. “Out!”

John laughed, leaned back into the sofa, and linked his hands behind his head. “Make me.”

For a split second of insanity Rodney was tempted. Some previously unknown well of sheer machismo almost burst at the mocking, challenging look on John’s face, but then, fortunately, sanity prevailed and he tossed the sneaker to the floor and stepped back. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you? The big, dumb jock kicking the crap out of the pasty geek, yet again. Well, sorry to disappoint, Mr Sheppard, but unfortunately for you, I happen to be well aware of both my strengths and weaknesses, and I have absolutely no desire to suffer the inevitable humiliation another physical altercation with you would bring. Rest assured, your title of Captain Testosterone is completely safe.”

John’s lips curved and he said mildly, “Pity. This thing is pretty comfortable when you get rid of the shoes.” He eyed Rodney keenly. “You sure you don’t want a tussle? It could be…interesting.”

“God, just stop it! Why are you doing this?” Rodney took another prudent step back and glared as defiantly as he could at the man seated on his couch, who was just itching to pounce on him. “You want me to admit that you make me uneasy? Fine, you make me uneasy! In fact you scare the crap out of me, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

John tilted his head and screwed his mouth up thoughtfully. “It’s a start.” He smiled confidently up at Rodney. “Mostly I’m doing this just because I can. I like knowing that I have you exactly where I want you -- and by extension your father -- and I love knowing that there’s not a damn thing either one of you will do stop me.”

“Except call the authorities and turn you in for the perverted, blackmailing scum you so obviously are.” Rodney snatched up his cordless phone and held a pointed finger ready over the keypad, completely at the end of his rope. “Which is exactly what I’m going to do if you don’t get the hell out of my apartment right now.”

The amusement faded from John’s face a little as he looked at Rodney and took in the other man’s heightened colour and slightly shaking hands. “Go ahead and do what you have to do.” He waited until Rodney’s finger jabbed at the first button and then added calmly, “I’ll just use my one phone call to contact my offices and get things moving with the foreclosing on your parents’ house and business.”

Rodney sneered. “You may not have noticed when my father completely failed to rush in outraged horror to my side the other night after you assaulted me, Sheppard, but we’re not actually all that close. This is me not caring.” He jabbed the second button.

John smiled coldly and moved in for the kill. “And as soon as I’ve done wrecking your parents’ lives I’ll get started on your sister’s. Bank accounts, nice city apartment, jewellery…clothes, all gone.”

Rodney stared blindly down the phone in his hand and tried to make his finger press the last key that would end his nightmare. He could live with his parents hating him for the rest of his life for not stepping up to the plate and sacrificing his own happiness for theirs, but the thought of Jeannie suffering -- or someone else if John made good on his threat of two days before and started digging to find more innocents to drag into his savage vengeance -- that was unacceptable. “Please, don’t make me do this.”

John smiled in triumph and stood to take the handset from nerveless fingers. “I’m not making you do anything, Rodney.” His voice was curiously gentle as he stroked a finger over one pale cheek, ignoring the shiver of revulsion at his touch. “You can stop this anytime. Just pick up the phone and turn me in.”

“I can’t.” The anguished whisper felt like knives ripping into his flesh as it burst from Rodney’s throat and he turned his head away in shame as John laughed harshly and tossed the phone out of reach on the couch. “You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, I know.” John slid one hand around to cup the back of Rodney’s neck and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “Now tell me what I want to hear.” His grip tightened as Rodney instinctively tried to pull away and he repeated viciously, “Tell me, Rodney.”

“I….” Hot tears of shame and despair made Rodney’s eyes burn, but an iron will and sheer pride made him blink them away and lift his eyes to meet John’s expectant ones. “I’ll come with you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“There….” John smiled and brushed a kiss over Rodney’s trembling mouth. “…that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He gave Rodney’s neck another possessive squeeze and then stepped back, aware that the other man had taken all he could for the moment and that he had no desire to break his toy so early in the game. “You’ve got tonight to get packed.” Scornful eyes took in the shabby outfit that Rodney was currently sporting and a dismissive hand swept through the air. “I wouldn’t bother with too many clothes, as my partner you’ll be expected to meet certain standards and you’ll get outfitted accordingly.”

“But I….”

John cut off Rodney’s protest with a warning look. “You heard what I said.” He glanced around the room in disgust. “There doesn’t seem to be much here of value so I can’t imagine you’ll take up too much space in the plane with luggage.”

“Plane?” Rodney’s mouth fell open in shock. “Where are we going?”

John’s eyebrows lifted in mocking surprise. “To my home, of course. Didn’t Jeannie tell you that my main base is in Colorado Springs?”

“But…but I….” Rodney shook his head helplessly. “My home, my work, I can’t just pick up at a moment’s notice and take off with you.”

“Yet you are.” John suppressed the unwilling pang of sympathy at the look of devastated loss on Rodney’s face and his voice lowered to a tone of uncompromising hardness. “Let me spell this out for you, McKay. Come tomorrow morning I own you. We drive straight from here to my lawyer’s office where we’ll sign contracts of domestic partnership and as soon as the ink dries you’ll do what I tell you, when I tell you, and you’ll forget all about the life you have here because it’s over. You’ll belong to me and I plan to keep you for a very, very long time.”

“Oh, god.” The reality of what he had so reluctantly committed to hit Rodney hard and he began to shake in earnest. “Please don’t do this. Please, I’ll do anything you want -.”

“Yeah. You will.” John smirked in cold satisfaction and his hand shot out to capture Rodney before he took his mouth in a hard kiss. “Anything and everything I want, and I can’t wait to get started.” He let go as Rodney stumbled back and scrubbed a hand over his mouth in protest, and threw the shattered man an amiable salute. “I’ll be by to get you at eight tomorrow morning. Don’t keep me waiting.” He strode to the door and turned back to stare with warning eyes at Rodney’s white face. “Don’t get clever overnight and try and make a run for it. I will find you, and I can guarantee that when I do you won’t like the consequences. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rodney flinched at the sharp click as the door closed behind John and stared unseeingly at the spot where he had stood for a long time before his control finally broke and silent tears of hopelessness began to roll down his face.

~*~*~*

At five minutes to eight the next morning, Rodney stood outside his apartment building with two tote bags by his feet, clutching his rucksack to his chest and blinking in unhappy exhaustion in the cold morning light. He hadn’t yet slept since the confrontation with John the night before, spending the intervening hours moving on automatic pilot around his apartment as he cleaned, sorted and tried to pare down his life to date so that the few things he could not bear to leave behind fit in what he hoped John would consider a reasonable amount of luggage.

He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go across the hall to bid Teyla goodbye face to face, choosing instead to write what he hoped was a convincingly happy letter of farewell to slip under her door for her to find when she got up for classes later in the day. E-mails were sent to the university to inform them of his abrupt departure, citing a family emergency with half-hearted apologies included as insurance against the hoped for day in the future that John would tire of him and release him back to his life. Rodney clutched his bag tighter to his chest as another wave of misery swept over him, and wondered forlornly if he would ever feel remotely happy again. As the chances of John growing bored with tormenting him any time before the turn of the next decade were roughly equivalent to the university welcoming him back with open arms after his lightening departure, he rather doubted it.

A low, groin tingling rumble alerted him to John’s arrival and he looked up with blank eyes as something sleek, metallic and bulging with lovingly created automated muscle slid smoothly to a halt in front of him. The man himself sat behind the wheel wearing completely superfluous mirrored shades considering the gloomy cast to the morning and a battered leather jacket and jeans. “Huh.” John leaned out of the open driver’s window and peered in faint surprise at Rodney, huddled miserably on the sidewalk. “I really thought you’d make a run for it.”

Rodney blinked, snapping waspishly, “Yes, because you’ve left me so many places to run to.”

John shrugged, and then pushed the car door open, making Rodney stumble backwards in an effort to avoid his kneecaps being horribly bruised. “Gotta admit I was kinda looking forward to the chase.” He pushed his shades back to perch on top of his head and screwed up his mouth in distaste at Rodney’s dishevelled appearance before reaching into his inside jacket pocket and pulling out a folded A4 manila envelope. “But while we’re on the subject of leaving you no other bolt holes - here.”

Rodney stared at the envelope and made no move to take it. “What is it?”

“Just a little more leverage that I was going to use against you if you had decided to make a break for it. Let’s just say inspiration struck last night.” John tugged Rodney’s rucksack away from him, shoved the envelope in his hands, and moved to the trunk of his sports car. “Open it.”

Rodney fumbled at the seal of the envelope as John tossed his rucksack in the trunk and then retrieved his tote bags, grunting slightly at the weight when they turned out to be full of books. The contents of the envelope were revealed to be a sheaf of papers. Rodney frowned as he skimmed through them, and then looked up at John in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”

John slammed down the trunk lid and pulled down his shades again, effectively hiding his eyes and leaving his face unreadable. “I would have thought they were pretty self-explanatory.” He leaned against the car and folded his arms across his chest as he crossed his feet at the ankle. “Teyla seems like a nice woman and you’re obviously very fond of her. She’s important to you.”

Nausea and panic welled up inside Rodney as realisation hit. “She’s got nothing to do with this! She’s never even met my parents.” He looked down again at the papers in his hands and absently noticed his fingers were shaking again. “You can’t do this. This is her life. Everything’s here; college transcripts, transfer credentials, grants, her financial arrangements…”

John nodded in agreement and clarified helpfully, “I think you mean debts, Rodney. Unlike you, she doesn’t come from money, and she’s had to take out some substantial student loans to make her studies possible.” He uncrossed his legs and pushed idly away from the car, stalking forward to stand before Rodney with an unpleasant curl to his mouth. “And thanks to some contacts I have within the Canadian government, I can have the loans, all grants and her papers to study here in Canada revoked in a minute if I want to. I don’t even have to give a reason.”

Blue eyes filled with powerless fury stared at John. “You can’t do that.”

John laughed, a bitter ugly sound. “Yeah, so you keep saying.” He shrugged in mocking self-depreciation. “And yet, here I am again, proving you wrong.” One long finger flicked at the papers Rodney still clutched in his white knuckled hands. “Have you got to the part where my people tracked down your little buddy Zelenka, yet? I have to say I was pretty damn happy to find out that his place over here is even more precarious than Teyla’s. I wouldn’t even have to go to the trouble of having debts recalled early or research and transcripts lost to get rid of him. One word to your intelligence services and his ass would be booted back to Czechoslovakia faster than you could blink. Turns out they’d had him under a pretty close watch since he set foot over here and are just itching for an excuse to lose him and keep all his very valuable research for themselves.”

Rodney felt his nausea increase. “What? That’s ridiculous! Radek isn’t a danger to anyone, the man can barely remember to dress himself in the morning he’s so involved in his work.” He looked at John helplessly. “And how did you find out who he was? I didn’t tell you his name or anything about him.”

“McKay, I left here last night and phoned in a brief description from my car of the guy in your photo. Three hours later I had everything in front of me concerning your friends from birth up, and there’s still information coming in.” John flicked the papers again. “This is just the highlights. Do you get what I’m trying to say here? There is nothing I can’t find out and no avenue I won’t exploit if it means I come out ahead of the game. You’re out-gunned and out-classed and I need you to understand how futile fighting me is.”

“But I wasn’t fighting you.” Rodney shook his head plaintively, whispering in hoarse desperation, “I didn’t run. You don’t have to use them like this.” He thrust the papers at John blindly, hands fumbling to stop touching them as though they were on fire. “I said I’d do what you wanted.”

John gripped Rodney’s hands in his own and closed them into fists, crushing the paperwork between them. “I know. This is just extra insurance that you’ll keep doing so.” He eyed Rodney’s white face from behind his concealing shades and his mouth twisted in disgust. “Christ, maybe you’re more like your sister than I realised, you’ve certainly come around to the idea of whoring yourself out a lot quicker than I would have thought. Not even a token break for freedom, Rodney. Where’s that famous McKay pride now, huh?”

Rodney shook his head speechlessly, not able to force his eyes away from where he literally held his friends’ lives in his hands.

John abruptly let him go and turned away. “Keep them, I have copies.” He tugged open his car door and looked back to where Rodney still stood in shell-shocked immobility on the sidewalk. “Get in the car, McKay. We’ve got a busy few days in front of us and I haven’t got time to coddle you through a pointless freak out.” He waited for a few moments for Rodney to stop staring in bleak horror at the papers in his hands and then snapped, “McKay, get in the car!”

Rodney jumped at the vicious tone of voice, and then with the slow movements of a man three times his age, walked slowly around the car and climbed into the passenger seat. He remained silent as the car started with a low roar and then moved mechanically to obey when the man that had just blackmailed him out of his old life and stripped away everything he cared about ordered him to fasten his seatbelt.

“Take a good look, Rodney.” John pulled away from the curb smoothly and pointed the car towards his lawyer’s office, not noticing or not caring about the unnatural stillness and silence of the man beside him. “This is the last you’re going to see of Canada for a very, very long time.”

~*~*~*

End of Part 2.

On to Part 3

FIC: Loves Tangled Web (1/?) SGA, John/Rodney, crack!fic, NC17

Tue, 24 Jan 2006 02:57:05 GMT

Title: Loves Tangled Web (1/?)
Author: msgordo
E-Mail: msgordo3@hotmail.com
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Category: Slash
Pairing: John/Rodney
Disclaimer: Not mine, not a one.
Archiving: Full archiving permission to Harlequin_sga site. In the unlikely event of anyone else wanting it, just ask!
Synopsis: Ruthless!John Sheppard is a playboy businessman determined to exact revenge on the man who ruined his father years before. HelplessyetSpunky!Rodney McKay is a scientist who is drawn back home to help his family in their hour of need and finds himself put in an unimaginable position to save their home and fortune.

A/N: Plot ruthlessly stolen from Mary Lyons and her book ‘Loves Tangled Web’. Characters ruthlessly stolen from Stargate: Atlantis. Oh, and in a slight amendment to the original plot line I had in mind….HelplessyetSpunky!Rodney will now be known as HelpessyetSpunkyVirginal!Rodney because this is a crack!fic and I can. Scenes 2 & 3 were originally posted to sga_flashfic for their wonderful Harlequin challenge. And you’ll all be glad to know that I refrained from using the phrase ‘throbbing manhood’ anywhere in the story. Despite the almost overwhelming temptation and desperate itch in my fingers whenever I was typing a sex scene. Sadly the urge to have Rodney slammed up against every available wall mentioned in the fic did not go unanswered and I think he’s now in desperate need of a chiropractor. A need almost as desperate as John’s to find a good plasterer to repair the damage to said walls. Seriously, there’s a lot of forceful wall slamming going on here, folks.

Dedication: For Mel, my slashy, smutty beta and all around godsend. She’s a marvel and I love her.

~*~*~*

Rodney McKay stared at his father, down at the scotch in his hand, and then back up at the older man with an angry, puzzled look. “So, I know I haven’t overindulged in this stuff, as this happens to be my first in about, oh, two years, but how many have you had?”

Terence McKay eyed his only son with a palpable look of contempt and settled back into the leather armchair in the family den with an irritated sigh. “Always at the ready with the smart comments. I certainly haven’t missed that about you.”

“Father, I sincerely doubt you’ve missed anything about me over the past four years, and I can assure you that the feeling is entirely mutual.” Rodney placed his crystal glass down on the mantle above the roaring fireplace with a careless thump -- taking petty delight in the pained wince on his father’s face -- and crossed to the matching chair opposite his father to sink down into a careless sprawl, toasting his feet in his battered discount sneakers with smirk that visibly had his father’s jaw twitching in irritation. “In fact, before today I would have given you even odds of being incapable of picking me out of a line up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rodney.”

Rodney’s teeth gritted in reflex at the disinterested tone of his father’s voice. He stared hard at the dancing fire in the grate, mentally reminding himself that he was now thirty-three, no longer a thirteen year old boy, and his father’s lifelong indifference to him held no power over his emotions any more. “It’s been four years, not decades; you haven’t changed that much.” Terence curved his lips in a cold smile and said with grudging approval, “Although I admit to being grateful that you finally cut off that disgusting mop of hair.”

Rodney’s lips pressed tightly together and he told himself it would be a cold day in hell before he ever revealed that his prized mane of hair had literally gone up in smoke in a failed lab experiment no more than six months after he and his father had stopped speaking. Nature had then put an end to all plans to grow it back when he began to develop a rather pronounced widow’s peak and he couldn’t face looking like a spare member of Status Quo for the rest of his life.

“I’m also….” Terence’s eyes narrowed slightly, the only outward sign of resentment at his next words. “…grateful that you came home when asked.”

“Yes, I’m basking in the glow of your love and admiration, as always.” Rodney folded his arms over his chest -- hiding the legend ‘Physicists Do It With A Bang!’ inscribed on his t-shirt -- and glared down his thin nose at the man who had helped create him. “Let’s just get back to the rather unexpected news that you’ve lost your fortune and home to a business rival and that you appear to be selling my sister to him in a bid to hang onto your wealth, shall we?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Rodney.” Terence’s mouth tightened with annoyance and he raked cold eyes over his slouched son with distaste. “And for God’s sake, sit up and stop sprawling all over the place in that ridiculous manner. You’re a grown man, not a child.”

“Exactly.” Not so much as twitching a finger, Rodney lifted an eyebrow and curled his mouth in a sneer. “Not a child, and as such I’ll sit how I damn well please. Now, about this whole selling Jeannie into sexual slavery business?”

Terence closed his eyes for a moment and visibly collected his patience before saying in an even tone, “I have not sold your sister into anything.” He opened his eyes and looked at Rodney expressionlessly. “Your mother and I, with Jeannie’s encouragement, have orchestrated some social meetings with the man who now holds a controlling interest in McKay Enterprises and the mortgage on this house, and we have been fortunate that Jeannie has attracted his attention on a personal level, which has placed her in the position to assure her future happiness and security, as well as that of a great many other people who rely on our company for their livelihoods. It is merely a rather unorthodox business arrangement at worst.”

“Really.” Rodney looked unimpressed by the dignified explanation. “I know a much uglier word for it, Father, and that would be prostitution.” He looked at his father in disgust. “Which would apparently make you Jeannie’s pimp. I’m so proud.”

Terence’s fists clenched on the arms of his chair. “Don’t you dare presume to come into my home and judge the decisions I have made to protect my interests. You gave up all right you had to a say in this family when you walked out on us four years ago.” His normally pale face coloured with fury. “The only reason you are here is that Jeannie’s fiancée insisted on meeting with all her immediate family before committing to a date for the wedding. Believe me, if it were at all possible, I would quite happily forget you had ever existed.”

“Not. A. Problem.” Rodney jumped to his feet and spun on his heel for the door, determined not to give his father the satisfaction of seeing that his words could still cut like a knife through Rodney’s skin and slice right into his heart. “You seem to forget, Terence, that, unlike Jeannie, I have managed quite well without any of the McKay money for the last four years of my life and I don’t actually have a vested interest in taking any of your crap. Let me know how your exciting new career as a pimp works out for you…or better yet, don’t bother.” His fingers closed on the doorknob to the den door and he yanked it open, ignoring his father’s irate command to stop, and then yelped as he ran straight into a man dressed in an well-tailored suit out in the hallway. “Who the hell are you? Get out of my way!”

The man tilted an eyebrow and looked Rodney up and down before smiling slowly and extending a hand. “John Sheppard.” Hazel eyes flickered over Rodney’s shoulder to look at Terence standing frozen by his chair, and then refocused on Rodney’s angry, red face. “I believe I’m about to become your brother-in-law.”

Rodney glowered and irritably slapped John’s hand aside before barging past him and heading for the stairs and his sister’s bedroom. “Not if I get Jeannie declared mentally incompetent first!”

~*~*~*

Thirty minutes later Rodney was sitting on his sister’s bed and staring at her reflection in the mirror as she smeared something red -- and in his opinion deeply unflattering -- on her cheeks. “Jeannie, tell me you’ve finally reached the point where rehab is an inevitable destination rather than a hazy possibility in the future, and an illegal substance is responsible for your obvious insanity.” He glared as his sister continued to ignore him and snapped, “And wipe that crap off, you look like an incredibly bawdy clown.”

Jeannie laughed and poked her tongue out at the mirror. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Rodney. People do this sort of thing all the time.” She tilted her head and studied her reflection thoughtfully, “And I think the extra colour brings out my eyes.”

Rodney eyed his sister disdainfully. “The last time I checked we have exactly the same colouring, and as I do not have glowing red eyes, I doubt that covering your face with that tawdry paint is going to do much to bring out yours, either!” He folded his arms and scowled petulantly. “And I am not a stick in the mud. I just fail to see how you selling yourself to this…this…playboy is going to help Father dig himself out of the hole he fully deserves to be buried in.”

Jeannie gave herself a final squirt of perfume and then turned from the mirror with a bright laugh. She smiled affectionately at her brother. “Rodney, you can be so delightfully naïve at times. I’m not selling myself to John. I am merely engaging in a fully consensual exchange of services that happens to include my body and rapier wit, and a lot of his lovely money. If Mother and Father happen to benefit from the arrangement and stop calling me every other day to bemoan the sorry state of their finances, then that is just a happy side benefit for all concerned.” For a moment she dropped her sophisticated mask and looked fondly at her brother. “Besides, darling, this way I’ll be able to help you with your expenses as well. Just think, Rodney, you’ll be able to finish school and finally get your doctorate.”

Rodney’s jaw dropped. “Yes, because I’ll really be able to hold my head up on the playground with all the other physicists knowing I’m there thanks to my sister screwing my tuition money out of our father’s greatest business nemesis!”

Jeannie couldn’t help her lusty grin. “It’s not like it’ll be a hardship, Rodney. Once I do something about that appalling hair, he’ll really be quite presentable.”

Rodney thought back to the startled, good-looking face topped by a wild thatch of hair that decorated the man he had shoved out of his way in his haste to escape his father and talk some sense into his sister. “Yes.” He shook his head and looked away, jaw twitching in irritation. “Because that’s the part to focus on.”

Jeannie stood and shook out her silky skirt, tossing her hair back over her shoulders with a defiant flick of her head. “No, the part to focus on is the money.” She held out her hand to Rodney. “Now, are you going to stay up here and sulk, or are you going to come down and properly greet the man who’s going to save all our necks?”

Rodney stared blankly at her hand for a moment before taking it and coming to his feet to look intently into her overly made up face -- overly made up in his brotherly opinion, anyway. “Jeannie, I know we haven’t seen as much of each other as we might have done these past few years, but you’re the only one of my so-called family that I can actually bear to admit to knowing, and I don’t want to see you throw your life away just to save our mutual sperm donor from financial ruin. Please don’t do this.”

“Rodney.” For a moment Jeannie allowed herself to show some of what her decision had cost her, and the expression on her face was a mixture of resignation and impatience. “There’s no one else who can do this, don’t you understand? Father has made some extremely bad decisions in recent years and John has somehow been there to take advantage of every single one of them. Every single one. This isn’t a normal corporate takeover we’re talking about here. He holds a controlling interest in the bank that holds all three of our mortgages, a controlling interest that he didn’t buy until after it was leaked just how much in debt father was. All the land and property that father has slowly and quietly been selling off these past few years John has snapped up almost before father knew himself he had to sell. The patents for the few useful discoveries that have come out of our laboratories recently all belong to companies owned by John Sheppard. For reasons only known to himself, John has made it his personal mission in life to destroy father and everything he has built or holds dear. I’m just lucky enough that I’ve managed to convince him that I’m as important to father as his precious company.”

Jeannie looked away for a moment and then met Rodney’s eyes again with pride and resolve shining from her face. “I’m very aware of what people think of me, Rodney, even you, and to be perfectly frank, I don’t really care.” She held up a hand and smiled grimly as Rodney opened his mouth in indignant protest before continuing, “I like my life. I like the money and the parties, and I like the power that comes from being a McKay, and if I have to align myself with a man who wishes to destroy our family to ensure I keep that lifestyle, then that’s something that I’m willing to do. I have no doubt that the marriage will be…uncomfortable…for a time. Sheppard’s certainly made no attempt to disguise his amusement at having our parents and myself jumping through hoops to secure his goodwill, and I imagine that having me humbled by bowing to him in the bedroom will amuse him even further, but it will not be forever. He will get bored, and hopefully I’ll have been inventive enough to have kept him interested for long enough to ensure that any divorce settlement will be very, very generous.” She pressed a dry kiss to her brother’s appalled face and said lightly, “Now for God’s sake, stop acting like I’m being offered up like a virgin sacrifice, put on some decent clothes, and let’s go and have dinner before father gives himself a stroke trying to be pleasant to John and mother realises that I’ve watered down all the spirits.”

~*~*~*

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Still smarting over being back in his family home for the first time in four years -- even more depressingly with his family actually present and all unaccountably completely insane-- Rodney was already feeling more churlish than was normal. To add insult to injury he was being forced to choke down his meal opposite the man who had basically bought his sister to cancel out his father’s debts and the insufferable man kept smirking at him.

“What?” Rodney finally snapped during dessert and threw his fork rather forcibly down into his chocolate soufflé. He was momentarily derailed when it deflated with a sad little hiss. “Now look what you made me do!”

“Rodney.” Terence glared at his son and said warningly, “John is our guest, and I’ll thank you to mind your manners.”

Rodney snorted and gave up wiggling his fork hopefully in his dessert, as though expecting it to re-inflate a la a bicycle tyre. “John is nothing but a glorified lecher who has done nothing to deserve good manners, as he keeps staring at me and, oh yes, you’ve sold him your only daughter!” He threw up his hands in disgust as his family all froze over their own soufflés and spat, “What? Is it good manners to pretend that handing Jeannie over on a silver platter isn’t the reason we’re all here? You and John have apparently been at corporate war for years, Father, remember? You loathe each other and…what?” Rodney looked up when he felt a hand on his arm, blinking when he saw John Sheppard standing over him, pulling him insistently to his feet. “How did you get round the table so fast? Get off me! What are you doing?”

“Shut up, Rodney.” John nodded pleasantly to Marjorie, Rodney’s mother, as she stared with horrified eyes at her youngest child, and he began to steer Rodney out of the ostentatious dining room. “Excuse us. I feel the sudden urge to stretch my legs and I think it might be an excellent time for me to become better acquainted with Rodney, considering our new equitable relationship.”

Rodney disagreed. “Equitable rela - ? Are you drunk? Are you all drunk? We don’t have a relationship. My parents want your money, you want my sister, and I want you to drown in your after dinner port!” He clung to the doorframe and then yelped when he was yanked through it, catching a brief glimpse of his family’s frozen faces before he was tugged away and down the hall. “If you don’t let go of me this instant I’m going to… Hey!” Rodney stumbled as John opened the door of his father’s study and unceremoniously shoved him through it. “You unbelievably arrogant, fluffy-headed jerk!”

John, striding away from the now locked study door, momentarily paused and raised one amused eyebrow. “Fluffy-headed?”

Rodney glared. “Would you prefer to be likened to a toilet brush?” He glanced around the gloomy room and muttered darkly, “Well, this is exactly as I remember it.” He looked defiantly at John. “Are you going to threaten me with boarding school and an emphatic disinheriting if I don’t behave? I seem to recall that used to be my father’s favoured method of attempted discipline.”

“Would it do me any good?” John met his gaze coolly and sat down in his father’s chair as if he owned it. Which, Rodney remembered with a wince from his enlightening conversation with Jeannie, he probably did. Sheppard stared piercingly at Rodney for a moment before murmuring reflectively, “Something tells me that any threats along those lines will get you laughing in my face and saying something else mean about my hair.”

Rodney smirked. “Actually the focus of my next mocking taunt was going to be your ears.” He lifted his chin proudly and said, “Now if you’ve quite finished being a complete and utter Neanderthal ass, then I have an entire family to get committed to the nearest mental institution and a lifetime of menial jobs to get started on to pay for their upkeep. Excuse me.”

John leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach comfortably as he remarked conversationally, “Bet I know a threat that would work, though.” He smiled coldly at the barely perceptible hitch in Rodney’s stride and spoke one word. “Jeannie.”

Rodney froze inches from the door, and then slowly turned to stare with revulsion at the other man. “Leave my sister alone. You can’t threaten her.”

John’s eyes shone with mocking laughter. “No?” He stretched in the chair and laced his hands behind his aforementioned fluffy head smugly. “This is the same sister you were insisting so melodramatically a few moments ago that had been sold to me, right?” He grinned wickedly. “Well then, it seems to me that if I’ve bought and paid for her I can do pretty much anything I want to her.”

Rodney’s eyes widened with panic and his breath began to hitch in his chest as he fought off the first asthma attack he’d had in years. Coincidentally, the last time he’d had one was four years previously when he’d stormed from this very study and cut all ties to his parents until receiving a phone call from his mother the night before. “What?” He shoved his suddenly shaking hands into his pockets. “Look, I…I’m sorry, alright? I was…I was very…incredibly rude to you and I’m, uh, very sorry. Really.”

John laughed. “That really hurt, didn’t it? Making you McKays grovel is just never gonna get old.” He surveyed Rodney’s unhappy face with the keen eye of a racehorse owner looking over a possible new purchase. “I don’t know, McKay, I’m just not feeling the love, you know? The genuine remorse.” The mirth bled from his face and his eyes hardened. “I’m pretty sure you can do better than that. Suck it up for your sister, Rodney.”

“I….” Rodney stared helplessly at John. For the first time in his life he genuinely regretted the abrasive and unapologetic personality he normally blustered his way through life with, which left him so singularly unequipped for this particular situation. “I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

John pulled one hand from behind his head and rubbed at his mouth. He sighed regretfully. “Damn, I really wish I had one of those cool black moustaches that all the bad guys in the old films have. This is exactly the time one of them would come in handy, huh?” John shook his head sorrowfully. “It’s really hard to pull off the arch-villain role when you’re stuck with, what was it? Fluffy hair? And something unspecified about my ears?”

In a very distant part of Rodney’s mind he noted that John seemed to be pulling off the arch-villain role quite nicely without any additional props, but he thankfully refrained from voicing the thought aloud and instead said lamely, “Your ears are…I didn’t…they’re very nice.”

“Not what I’m looking for here, Rodney.” John tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Tell you what, I’ll help you out a little. This is the point where you make all kinds of wild promises that you’ll do anything I want you to, to protect your sister from my, ah, lecherous designs on her and in return….”

“Yes?” Rodney cringed inside at his frightened croak, but since he was occupied with just remaining upright and not fainting to the floor in sheer terror for his sister -- and coincidentally, no little fear for himself -- he thankfully managed to hide his humiliation on the outside. “In return you’ll what?”

John smiled slowly and horribly, dark triumph flashing in his hooded eyes as he drawled, “In return I tell you that I’ve changed my mind.”

Rodney blinked. “What? I don’t…. What do you mean you’ve changed your mind?”

The look of triumph in John’s eyes grew, and he said, “I changed my mind about your sister. I don’t want her.” He looked Rodney up and down in blatant and insulting appraisal. “I want you.”

Rodney stared in disbelief at the man lounging in his father’s chair and swallowed hard before whispering, “What did you say?”

John leaned back in the chair and surveyed the pale man before him with cold eyes and a twisted smirk. “Now is not the time to play dumb, McKay, I’ve seen your test scores.” He looked Rodney over in evaluation. “And now that I’ve seen the available merchandise your father can offer, I think he’s trying to short change me.” He got to his feet and moved smoothly around the desk, ignoring Rodney’s instinctive withdrawal as the other man flinched away from him. “Your sister is certainly eye-catching in a tawdry kind of way, but I suddenly have a yen for something a little less…obvious.”

Rodney backed away as John advanced. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I think you do.” John grinned humourlessly as he herded Rodney to the corner of the room and watched the other man pale as he fetched up against the wall, belatedly realising that he was trapped. “I think you understand just fine.” John reached out and tapped lightly at Rodney’s cheek with one tanned hand. “I’m not taking your sister, I’m taking you.” He braced an arm on either side of Rodney’s head and leaned in until their mouths were just inches apart, murmuring, “And if you don’t want your parents and sister out on the street and publicly disgraced by this time next week, you’re gonna let me.”

“You’re mad.” Rodney’s hands came up against John’s chest as he tried to shove him away, noting in a distant, hysterical corner of his mind that for such a lean man he was certainly deceptively solid and disturbingly immovable up close and personal. Oh God, extremely up close and personal. Rodney bucked as John’s face neared his. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, alright? Just…stop it!”

John caught Rodney’s flailing hands as he tried to fight him off and pinned the panicked man hard to the wall. “No.” He stared hard into Rodney’s terrified eyes and smiled cruelly. “I haven’t even begun to make my point yet. Let’s get started.”

Rodney drew breath to shout for help, but before he’d even got his mouth open halfway, John’s mouth slammed onto his and he found himself the unwilling recipient of a brutal, punishing kiss.

~*~*~*

Early the next morning Rodney was sitting on a bench at the bus station five miles from his parents’ home, and waiting impatiently for the first bus of the day to arrive and take him back to Toronto. Still dressed in the suit he had worn to dinner the previous evening, he was a rumpled mess. Feet tapped nervously at the ground next to his battered weekend bag and fingers drummed restlessly on his thighs as he very determinedly did not think about the kiss that John Sheppard had forced on him in his father’s study. Something that wasn’t made any easier by the puffy, bruised feel to his lips and the throbbing finger marks on his wrists from where he had fought John’s grip to get away.

Unbidden, Rodney’s eyes drifted down to where purple marks were beginning to creep past his jacket cuffs and he shivered miserably in the chilly morning air before focusing with grim purpose on his shoes. He was not going to think about it. Any of it. Not John’s mouth savaging his, the sheer panic inside when, despite his best efforts, nothing he did could throw the man off.

And he certainly wasn’t going to think about the reaction of his father when he had fled the room after John finally released him and the old bastard had merely looked shocked for a split second and then turned away, quite obviously disgusted with one thing and one thing only -- John’s taste in acceptable human sacrifice to his desires and twisted revenge.

Which had led Rodney here. Unable to face his sister or mother -- and doubting there might be any aid or sympathy found with either of them after his behaviour at the dinner table -- Rodney had raced to his room and locked the door, spending the night in an anxious vigil as he waited for morning and the time when he could call a taxi to take him away from the madness. He looked up at the old-fashioned clock hanging over the ticket booth and saw with relief that his bus was due to pull into the station any time now. He reached down for his bag and stood, feeling slightly ridiculous at his melodramatic flight from his family home now that safety and his own home were so near. He was a grown man after all. Yes, last night had been unpleasant and extremely upsetting -- and without doubt he was investing in some sort of self-defence classes when he was safely back on familiar territory -- but surely it had just been the initial shock of the encounter with Sheppard that had made him feel so powerless?

After all, in his own sphere Rodney certainly wasn’t known for being some kind of simpering idiot who allowed himself to get pushed around -- physically or otherwise. His formidable intellect had allowed him to build a fearsome reputation as a man not to cross, impatient with lesser mortals and fools and not at all hesitant in allowing his cutting tongue to make his displeasure known at the top of his equally impressive lungs. No, Rodney shook his head, impatient with himself, last night had been an aberration to the norm and the sooner he forgot about it the better. His family seemed to have the matter well in hand, and if he didn’t exactly approve of their methods of dealing with their situation, well then, it wasn’t any of his business, was it? He and his parents had been all but strangers for most of his life anyway, emotionally if not physically, so there was no real obligation there, and Jeannie was almost as formidable in her own way as Rodney. He was sure they would be fine.

With that bolstering thought, Rodney hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and took a determined step towards the bay his bus would be boarding at, stumbling when a low voice drawled behind him, “Going somewhere?”

Rodney turned with fatalistic horror to see John Sheppard leaning against the wall behind him, looking infuriatingly well rested and wearing obviously expensive khaki pants and a tight, long sleeved black t-shirt that clung lovingly to his lean muscles and gave him the appearance of a particularly dangerous big cat just waiting to pounce. Or maybe it was the way his hazel eyes were narrowed dangerously and his teeth were bared in a mocking parody of a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Sheppard pushed lazily away from the wall and strolled towards Rodney, chilling amusement flashing across his face when Rodney began to back away from him. “Apparently retrieving my property.” The amusement in his eyes drained away when he saw Rodney tense and shift his weight to the balls of his feet in preparation for flight. He said warningly, “Don’t do it, Rodney. I have no problem with chasing you down and dragging you out of here by force if I have to.”

“Yes, because that will be so inconspicuous. Two grown men fighting and one of them doing his best to illegally abduct the other.” Rodney flicked his eyes between John and the bus that had just pulled in. “I can only imagine just how much attention that won’t generate.”

John’s lips twitched. “Point of interest? I don’t think you can actually abduct someone legally.” He shrugged when Rodney scowled at him and continued in a level voice, “And something you really need to know about me before this goes any further? I’m not so much about the whole caring what other people think; I’m more all about the whole doing what I damn well please and screw anyone who gets in my way thing.” John paused and looked at Rodney closely. “So, you want to go a round or do you want to walk out of here with some dignity and under your own steam?”

Rodney licked dry lips and shook his head, saying faintly, “I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re quite obviously completely mad.” His eyes widened as John’s brows drew together sharply and he said hastily, “I swear to God, you try to threaten me again or touch me in any way and I will yell this place down and bring everyone here running.”

Alarmingly, John’s expression relaxed into amusement once more and he folded his arms over his chest, saying, “And by ‘everyone’ you mean the old guy selling tickets, the homeless guy sleeping under the bathroom sign and the bus driver who looks like she passed her test just last week?”

Rodney stared at John and then hurriedly took a closer look at his surroundings, his face falling when he realised that, thanks to his early start, he was woefully undersupplied in the department of outraged bystanders prepared to rush to his aid. God, not even the newsstand was open for business yet. “I don’t care how ma -.” Rodney cried out with surprise as John grabbed one of his bruised wrists, then grabbed the bicep of the arm carrying his bag with another cruel hand and dug painfully into his flesh. “Get off me!”

“Listen to me, Rodney, and listen good.” John yanked on the wrist clutched in his hand and watched as Rodney whitened with pain and groaned as his bones were ground together and twisted in such a way that just a little more pressure would snap them. “I will break your goddamned arm if you don’t come with me right now. This isn’t a game and I’m not prepared to stand around debating with you on whether you’re getting on that bus or not. I can and will hurt you. Is that what you want?” He twisted the wrist a tiny amount more as Rodney tried to pull free, and pulled the terrified man flush to his body, hissing, “Is it?”

“No!” Hating himself for the weakness and desperation in his voice, Rodney couldn’t make himself think past the pain in his arm. “Please, stop it.”

“Okay.” John took his hand away from Rodney’s bicep and relieved him of his bag but kept his other hand wrapped tight around the wrist he was torturing so callously. “Now, we’re gonna walk out of here nice and easy, and you are gonna smile and look normal while we do it. Understood?”

Almost sobbing with pain, Rodney nodded frantically, beyond terrified as his vision began to grey out at the agony shooting up his captured limb. “Yes, yes. Normal. Okay.”

“Good.” Fixing an amiable smile on his own face, John turned and started to pull Rodney to the exit. “Now move.”

Rodney tried to see past the greyness of his vision as he stumbled along in John’s wake, desperately trying to catch the eye of any of the three other occupants of the station, but they were all oblivious to the drama being played out under their noses. Before he knew it Rodney found himself outside in the parking lot being freed from John’s hold and shoved up against some kind of red sports car.

“Get in the car.” John opened the trunk and threw Rodney’s bag inside. “We’re going for a ride.”

“No!” Holding his throbbing wrist to his chest, Rodney shook his head frantically and put every ounce of outrage he felt over his treatment into his voice as he scrubbed away the wet evidence of his pain from his face. “I will not.” He shrank back against the car as John stalked towards him, but lifted his chin defiantly and spat, “I don’t care if you do break my arm, I get in that car with you and god knows what will happen to me. I’ll take my chances here.” He flinched as John clenched his fists in aggravation but stuck to his guns. “Oh please, you think I’ve never been pounded on before? Do what you like, I’m still not going anywhere with you.”

Blue eyes met hazel for long moments, both daring the other to make the next move before John released a harsh breath and tilted a reluctantly admiring eyebrow. “You’ve got more balls than your old man, I’ll say that for you.”

“Oh, really, did you beat him up, too?” Rodney sneered dismissively, and then froze, horrified. “God, you didn’t, did you?”

John let the question hang in the air for an unforgivable amount of time before shaking his head slowly. “No. I didn’t beat him up.” He laughed harshly. “Although I’m not saying the temptation hasn’t been there.” His eyes flickered down to where Rodney still cradled his wrist and said coldly, “And for your information, I don’t actually make a habit of beating up everyone who pisses me off.”

“Just me then?” Rodney glared and slowly straightened up from his awkward sprawl against the car. “I feel so special.”

“I didn’t beat you up!” John’s angry hiss had Rodney flinching again and he darted another quick glance down at the other man’s wrist, still an angry red and purple. “Are you sure you’re a physicist? With your talent for drama, I’m thinking actor. It’s a nasty Chinese burn at worst; you’ll live.”

Beginning to shake with temper, Rodney snapped, “Well, I’m certainly beginning to see why you have to buy yourself a bride. No one with any sense would consider going anywhere near you without the lure of a great deal of money. What do you do for an encore, torture some orphans?”

John’s eyes narrowed in warning. “I liked you a lot better when you were crying like a little girl.”

“Really?” Rodney scowled and disregarded the warning look. “Well, I liked you a lot better when I didn’t know you existed! Feel free to disappear back into the ether any time now!”

“You know -.” John leaned forward and braced an arm to either side of Rodney on the roof of the car, dark delight filling his eyes when the other man shrank back from him. “You’re really starting to piss me off, so just quit it with the smart remarks and remember who you’re talking to here.”

Rodney couldn’t help the nervous flicker in his eyes and bobbing of his Adam’s apple at the sudden proximity of his tormentor, but he nonetheless gamely stuck out his chin and said, “I know exactly who I’m talking to, you inbred throwback, and I just told you that the physical intimidation routine isn’t going to work anymore, so why don’t you just…mmmpfh!”

His hands flailing wildly and body bucking frantically, Rodney fought with everything in him to force John off him and evade the mouth that crashed onto his, but his awkward position up against the car and his still throbbing wrist put him at a disadvantage. Humiliatingly, all too soon he was limp and gasping under the harsh assault and completely at the mercy of John’s demanding hands and mouth.

Only when he felt Rodney go completely limp under him did John draw back. Eyes raking over the flushed skin and terrified blue eyes, John grinned in satisfaction. “Well, what do you know? Looks like the physical intimidation routine’s a winner after all.”

Rodney gasped for air and tried to gain leverage to buck John off him, frantic to escape the hardness he could feel pressing into his hip. “Let me go!”

John snorted. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen.” He stepped back and grabbed Rodney’s arm to yank him upright and off balance, forcing him to stumble to keep his precarious footing. He pulled open the passenger door of the car and then gestured inside with his free hand. “Get in.”

“No.” Rodney fought against John’s hold and then cried out in fear when his abused wrist was captured once more, the intent to harm clear in John’s angry eyes. “No, don’t!”

“Then don’t give me a reason.” John twisted Rodney’s wrist just a little to make his point and hissed, “You are getting in the car and you will listen to what I have to say. You do not have a choice in this, is that clear? I did ten years in the military and I was involved in some very nasty shit, Rodney. Make no mistake that if I want to, I can have you begging for mercy without even breaking a sweat. Get. In. The. Car.”

Terrified, in pain and hating himself, Rodney bit his lip, nodded in shamed defeat and got in the car.

~*~*~*

Thirty minutes later, Rodney found himself parked on the hill overlooking his family home, pressed up against the passenger door of John Sheppard’s car while the man himself sat beside him and stared silently down at the McKay estate. His wrist was aching from the pressure of John twisting it, his lips were still stinging from the assault they had endured and the rest of Rodney felt like he was in a hazy bubble of shock, unable to believe that this was actually happening to him. He jumped as John spoke.

“This should have all belonged to my dad, you know.”

Rodney shook his head and pressed harder against the car door as John turned to look at him. “I don’t understand.”

“This.” John gestured sharply in an encompassing gesture that took in the house and the surrounding grounds. “It should have belonged to my dad. Have you ever heard your father talk about his old partner?”

Rodney frowned, a wild burst of hope blossoming in his chest that his current situation was nothing more than the result of a terrible misunderstanding. “My father’s never had a partner. He built his company himself from nothing, that’s all I’ve ever heard from the time I was born. Everything he has, and everything he’s provided for us has been the result of his blood, sweat and determination to succeed, to be the best.”

John regarded Rodney coldly. “Is that right? All by himself, huh?”

“Yes.” Rodney nodded emphatically, very clear on this point. “Believe me, I’ve heard the sermon enough over the years to be able to recite it in my sleep.” His eyes drifted away from John for a moment and stared down at the house, bitterness colouring his next words. “My father has dedicated his whole life to bettering himself and securing our family legacy.”

John laughed, the sound sour and twisted in the close confines of the car. “And which family legacy would that be? The one where he cheats, lies and steals his way to the top or the one where he destroys families and leaves innocent women to die?”

Rodney’s eyes snapped back to the other man, colour draining from his face and his body pressing back into the car door so hard he was in danger of bruising his kidneys with the imprint of the handle against his skin. “Wh…what? You think my father murdered someone?” He shook his head, bile rising in his throat. “No, that’s not true.” He swallowed heavily against the unpleasant taste flooding his mouth and wished he could sound a little more certain in his defence of his father. “It’s not. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.”

John gave a short nod of acknowledgement at the unconscious pleading in Rodney’s voice. “Maybe not put a gun to someone’s head and pull the trigger, no.” He reached past Rodney, ignoring the strangled cry of alarm and flinching of the other man’s legs, to flip open the glove box and pull out a white A4 envelope. “But he also didn’t think twice about turning his back on my parents when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, and leaving them destitute and unable to pay for her treatment.” He opened the envelope and pulled out a thin sheaf of glossy pictures. “Her name was Maddy. She died when I was seven.”

Rodney stared blankly down at the picture of a pretty dark haired woman that John held out to him. “I don’t understand.”

“This is my mom. Her name is Maddy.” With a tone of exaggerated patience, John thrust the picture closer to Rodney, making sure it filled his vision and he couldn’t look away. “Because of your father, she died.” He smiled coldly as Rodney shook his head in denial, snatching the photo away and just as quickly replacing it with another one, this time of a grey faced, defeated looking man in blue overalls. “This is my father. Sam Sullivan.” He caught Rodney’s surprised jerk and explained harshly, “He had me take my mom’s name so no one would make the connection between us legally and make me suffer for his supposed sins, after my mother died he did three years in jail after your father set him up to take the fall on an insider trading scheme that had gone wrong. For a company that they started and owned together. As partners.” Machine gun rapid, the accusations flew from John’s mouth, each one hitting Rodney with the force of a blow. “This is me, aged nine. This was my fifth foster home in as many months. We didn’t have any other family to take me in, so while my dad did your father’s time, I got swallowed by the system and shunted from place to place like an unwanted dog while you and your sister lived like royalty.”

“No.” Rodney shook his head, sick denial filling his eyes as he looked at the picture of a skinny black haired little boy with a sullen mouth and defiant tilt to his jaw. “It’s not true. My father’s a bastard, but he would never…he couldn’t….”

“He did.” John finally took the pictures away, crumpling them in one white knuckled fist as he stared with loathing at Rodney’s stricken, sweating face. “He did all that and more, Rodney. Do you want to hear about how I used to listen to my mom -- my father for god’s sake -- cry at night in those last few weeks before she died? Begging anyone they could think of to help them, not to listen to the lies your father spread about my father’s business integrity and honour so that no one -- no one -- would listen and help them find the money they needed to save her? When the insurance company stopped paying for treatment they had no way of continuing it. Your father wouldn’t buy my father out of their company. Why would he? Just a short wait and he could have him declared a criminal and take all his assets away from him for nothing anyway.”

“Oh, God,” Rodney’s stomach churned at the unadulterated hatred that showed over every line of John’s face. “This isn’t true. It’s not.”

“Every damn word, McKay.” John released his grip on the photos, flinging them into Rodney’s face and laughing coldly at the yelp of fear as they struck. “When my father finally got me back, no one would hire him. We ended up in Texas, on a ranch not that far from where he’d grown up. One of the most brilliant business minds of his generation, and he spent the best years of his life covered in cow shit and mourning my mom’s death.” He looked away, his jaw tightening under the flood of memories. “He’s a good man. He tried to forget. Raised me as best he could and I never heard him mention your father’s name again after he got out of jail. I never forgot though. Hearing your mom sob night after night in terror that she was leaving her baby alone isn’t something that you ever forget.”

Rodney started to shake, really beginning to understand for the first time that this wasn’t a situation that could be ignored or forgotten. This was years of revenge and carefully stoked hatred -- possibly insanity -- and all the reasoning and pleading in the world wouldn’t help him. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. If my father….”

“Not ‘if’, Rodney.” John looked back at him, face once more under tight control and completely expressionless. “He did. Just like I said. All of the above and more.” Hazel eyes shone with an unholy light as they stared piercingly into blue. “And he taught me well. My dad might have tried to forget, but everything I’ve ever done in my life, I made sure that it led me here. We couldn’t afford college, so I joined the Air Force and had them pay for it. I put in ten years as a pilot and walked away with two degrees, an honourable discharge and more medals than I could pin on my chest.” Absently John rubbed at his chest with long fingers as though feeling the metal and ribbons still touching him. “I’d gotten a pretty good nest egg built up over the years.” Cold eyes raked over Rodney’s appalled face. “Never having a proper home really cuts back on the expenses, you know? I used what I had to play some high-risk, high-return investments, and two years later I’d made my first million.” John’s mouth stretched in a shark-like smile. “From there nothing held me back.”

Rodney swallowed heavily and from somewhere found the courage to say, “Well, I’m glad for you. Congratulations on emulating the man that you say you despise more than anyone else on the planet.” He sneered at John, fear and disgust in every line of his face. “I’m sure when you die alone, unloved and reviled by everyone that’s ever known you, all your untold millions will be of great comfort as you have to leave them behind.”

“Oh, that won’t be all I’ll be leaving behind.” John looked unaffected by Rodney’s brief rebellion and reached out to hook a hand around the back of the his neck and yank him across the car and half out of his seat. He ignored the yell of outrage and impatiently batted away Rodney’s hand when the other man tried to hit him, yanking on Rodney’s neck again to bring their foreheads together with a dull thump as he hissed, “The plan is to leave behind lots of cash, a lasting business empire and the ruin of everything that Terence McKay holds dear.”

Rodney tried to pull away, and when he failed, struck out again, some small part of him pleased at John’s surprised grunt when he connected with his thigh. “Then I definitely don’t see why you need me.” He tried to hit out again, yelping as his bruised wrist was grabbed and slammed into the dashboard. “He couldn’t give a damn about me. He never has done. Let. Me. Go!”

“Need has nothing to do with it.” John’s harsh mutter sent shivers up and down Rodney’s spine and he only had time to widen his eyes in protest before John adjusted his hold and brought their mouths together with bruising force. Rodney went wild, fighting with everything he had as John used tongue and teeth with painful insistence on him, but ultimately he was defeated by his awkward position hanging over the gap between the two seats and the fact that one of his arms was pinned uselessly to the dashboard of the car. Only when he was gasping frantically for breath and spots were dancing on the inside of his eyelids was Rodney’s mouth released, and then he was shoved back into his seat and John was following him, crowding him back against the door. “You’re an unexpected bonus, McKay.” Hard hands gripped Rodney’s jacket, pulling sharply to tug the material off his shoulders and down his arms to stop at his elbows, effectively pining them to his sides. “You certainly didn’t look like much in the shots my investigators took of you.”

Rodney bucked in panic in his seat as he found himself helpless and John looming above him with a hard, crazed look in his eyes. “No, stop, what are you doing?” He twisted his face to the side as John swooped in for another kiss and yelled as the muscle in the side of his unprotected neck was seized in strong teeth and bitten hard in punishment. “Please, stop, I don’t want this! I’m saying no.”

John laughed coldly, cupping Rodney’s face with his hand and forcing it back round. “Which is what makes it fun, McKay. It’d hardly be payback if you wanted it, would it?” He swallowed Rodney’s gasp of horror in his own mouth, shoving his tongue in to meet Rodney’s and pushing until Rodney was gagging and spluttering for air once more. “Take it like a man, McKay.”

Rodney yelled out as he felt John’s hand fall from his face to between his thighs, squeezing him there with a grip just this side of cruel. “No!” He thrashed wildly, head tossing back and forth and shoulders straining off the seat as he fought against the restraining material of his jacket. “I don’t want this!” He felt powerless tears leak from his eyes, streaking hotly over his already flushed cheeks. “I’m not…this isn’t…I don’t do this!”

“Bullshit.” John raised his head and stared with glittering intent into Rodney’s frantic face. “I know everything about you, McKay. Including just why you and dear old daddy fell out back in the day.” He sneered. “Not exactly original, having a fling with the gardener, is it?” His hand tightened between Rodney’s legs once more, and he spat, “Quit acting like an outraged virgin and let’s get it over with, okay?”

Rodney recoiled from the disgust in John’s face and voice and babbled frantically, “What do you mean? That isn’t why I –.” His eyes widened as he broke off and bit down hard on his lower lip, tearing the already abused flesh. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, sweat cold sweat streaking down his back, and the heavy weight of John’s hand burning through the rough material of his jeans. He stared helplessly up into John’s suddenly suspicious eyes, mind beginning to race frantically as he assimilated all available data and realised that although John knew enough he didn’t know everything. The thought of what John might be capable of if he found out the real reason Rodney had walked out in disgust on his family all those years ago had more cold sweat springing out all over his body and shocked Rodney back into speech. Whatever happened, whatever he had to do, he couldn’t let that happen. “How…how did you know about Paul?”

John’s mouth twisted smugly, but his eyes still searched Rodney’s face with distrust, aware that something wasn’t quite right. “I told you. I’ve made it my business to find out everything about your family, Rodney.” He eased back slightly while Rodney stayed rigid beneath him, and said mockingly, “Pop really didn’t like the idea of his son screwing the hired help, huh?”

Rodney felt the familiar stab of years old hurt even through his current overwhelming fear of the present. “It wasn’t like that.” He could feel the burn of shame and regret sweep over his skin like a fire. “Paul…I thought…we didn’t make it that far.” He turned his head away sharply as John jerked in realisation and muttered resentfully, “Happy now? My father paid him off before we got anywhere near that level of our relationship. He took the money and ran.” He laughed bitterly. “And I never cared enough to try again. Once bitten, twice shy. So if you’re looking for someone to provide you with a wealth of sexual experience, you’ve definitely picked the wrong man. What I know about gay sex wouldn’t get you change from a dollar, let alone the vast sums of cash you seem to have parted with.” Whatever reaction Rodney expected to his unwilling confession, it certainly wasn’t the one he got.

“You’re a virgin?” John stared blankly at Rodney’s unhappy face for a moment before pulling back to his own side of the car and bursting into cruel laughter. “Oh, that’s just perfect.” He sagged back in his seat and laughed harder when Rodney took advantage of his release, struggling to get his jacket back into place and as far away from John as he could get in the limited space of the car. “God, this couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it.” He grinned nastily at Rodney, huddled against the car door, looking horrified and miserable with small blood flecks spotting his lips and chin. “You know, this might actually be the final push I need to send dear old dad over the edge to a heart attack.”

Rodney stared in disbelief. “What?”

John lounged back against his own door, looking almost friendly when his gaze raked over Rodney from head to foot. “Yeah, this is definitely gonna cause a steep rise in his blood pressure if nothing else. Man, and I thought it was killing him watching me with Jeannie, seeing me take the son he disowned because he was gay is probably going to make him spontaneously combust.”

“You’re completely insane.” Rodney shook his head, wrapping his shaking arms around himself in a vain bid to gain some comfort and stop his body trembling with reaction to John’s latest assault. “You’re not seriously suggesting that I actually go along with this? I may not like my father, but I’m certainly not going to help put him in an early grave.”

“I’m not suggesting anything, Rodney.” John stopped grinning and his face transformed into one filled with the menace that Rodney was becoming horribly familiar with. “I’m telling you what’s going to happen. I’m going to drive us back to the house, we’re going to tell your family that the wedding to Jeannie is off, and then we’re going to tell them that I’m taking you instead.” Rodney opened his mouth to protest and flinched back when John raised a hand to cut him off. “If you don’t do what I say, you ought to consider that your folks are still desperate enough to offer me Jeannie. I have no problem with that.” Uncaring and relentless, John shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course, I can’t promise that I’ll be as…careful…with her as I might have been before our little encounters. She’s not quite as robust as you, is she? It’d be a real shame if she got in over her head with someone who was now looking for a more physically equal partner.”

Rodney licked at his sore lips, heart racing as he took in John’s words and he met his eyes with shaky rebellion. “Jeannie’s a grown woman. She makes her own decisions. She wouldn’t want me to do this.”

“Probably not.” John nodded gravely, mouth turning down in mock regret. “And you’re right, she’ll probably make out just fine.” He waited for the barely perceptible relaxation in Rodney’s tense body before adding silkily, “Which just leaves your mom.” His mouth twitched in triumph as Rodney abruptly tensed again. “She’s really looking a little fragile these days. God knows what the loss of her home and financial security will do to her. I’d hate to have that on my conscience if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.” He tapped Rodney’s chin with mock cheer, eyes shining with malice as Rodney recoiled back and his head cracked off the glass behind him. “Aren’t you lucky that I’m offering you a way to help them out?”

Dazedly, Rodney looked back at him, hypnotised by the look of sheer enjoyment on John’s face at the whole appalling situation.

John smiled tauntingly at him. “So, here’s what I’m offering. I’ll continue to hold controlling interests in all McKay companies and subsidiaries that I’m currently invested in. The mortgages I hold on your father’s house and other properties will be frozen until such time as a viable repayment schedule can be worked out, and I won’t foreclose in the meantime. Your father will be allowed to retain his position on the board of his company, in name only of course, and he, your mother and Jeannie will be provided with a comfortable income that will support them in a style that I wish them to become accustomed to. You will sign a domestic partnership agreement drawn up by my lawyers agreeing that you waive all rights to any wealth and interests I have at the time of our association, and accepting that if we decide to part company some time down the road that you will receive only a fixed monthly retainer for any favours enjoyed during our time together and that you will not sue for an increase in payments or for shares in any of my companies in the future. Whilst you are with me I will make sure you are clothed, fed and any reasonable request for money or anything else you require will be met. In return, all you have to do is agree to acknowledge me as your spouse and meet the expected responsibilities and duties of that position. How’s that sound to you? Fair?”

“Monstrous.” Rodney’s hoarse whisper felt like it was tearing at the lining of his throat like steel hooks. “I won’t do it. I have a life. I’m not giving up everything I’ve worked for just so you can get your pound of flesh from my father. I won’t.”

“Huh.” John looked momentarily startled and then reluctantly admiring. “I really thought that would do it.” He shot Rodney a questioning look. “You sure you can live with that? I’ve done the whole poverty thing, you know? It’s nowhere near as romantic as they make it seem in the books and movies.”

“Go to hell.” Rodney straightened up from where he was still pressed against the door, eyes blazing with defiance and hatred. “Do what you like, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Okay.” John shrugged and reached for his seatbelt. “If that’s the way you feel. Hey.” He turned his face to Rodney with an inquisitive light shining in his eyes. “Isn’t your father’s mother still alive? I wonder just how many relatives I can dig up that still rely on the old family fortune if I really try? Betcha there’s bound to be at least a couple of cousins or something knocking about.”

Rodney felt the blood drain from his face. As far as he knew there were no close relatives that worked within the McKay corporation, and his grandmother was living the life of Reilly in a retirement complex in Quebec, safely secure on the reasonably comfortable legacy from her third husband…but if Sheppard started digging around, then it wouldn’t be too long before he really struck gold and the secret that Rodney had guarded so zealously for the last four years would come to light. He began to sweat once more when fear induced adrenalin rushed through his system. He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t. “I -.” He swallowed and tried to work enough saliva into his mouth to enable him to speak, his only thought to buy himself some time. “I need some time to think about it.”

John eyed him thoughtfully, his face betraying none of the gloating satisfaction at the bone deep surety he had won. “Fair enough. You’ve got forty-eight hours and then I want an answer.” He turned the ignition key and put the car into gear. “Buckle up, McKay, it’s going to be a wild ride back.”

~*~*~*

End of Part One.

On to Part 2.

Drabble: Kissing, SGA, McShep, SLASH, PG13

Tue, 17 Jan 2006 10:30:22 GMT

Written for one of the batpack drabble trees. The chosen word prompt was 'shook his head'.

~*~*~*

“What’s that?”

Rodney McKay jumped at the sound of a curious voice behind him, and spun on his stool to try and block the computer screen he’d been staring at. “What? Nothing!” He glared as John Sheppard tilted a disbelieving eyebrow and leaned around him, spitting, “Really, Colonel, it’s nothing you need to worry your over-gelled head over.”

John leaned the other way. “It looks like something.”

“No it doesn’t.” Rodney flapped his arms in a dismissing gesture. “Go away.”

John shook his head. “I can’t do that, McKay. I need to know what’s happening with the people…” He feinted right, Rodney made a grab for him and John dodged left and snatched the laptop. “…under my command.” He glanced down at the screen and looked up with an unreadable expression. “Is this what I think it is?”

Rodney stared at him in silent panic.

John looked at the screen again. “This looks like you kissing another guy.”

Rodney remained mute.

John put the laptop down. “Something is definitely wrong with this picture.” He wrapped one hand around Rodney’s neck, pulled him forward and breathed over his unnaturally still mouth, “Because the only guy you should be kissing is me.”

~*~*~*

200 words.

FIC: Bring Him Home, Colonel (2/2) SLASH, Stargate SG1, NC17, Jack/Jonas

Tue, 17 Jan 2006 10:08:00 GMT

~*~*~*

I don’t know what wakes me on the last night before SG1 reports back for duty and I lay for a few minutes listening for anything out of the ordinary in the house. Nothing jumps out at me -- in my line of work always a plus -- but I can’t shake the niggling feeling that something isn’t quite right. And I didn’t get to this stage in my long and eventful career by ignoring my gut instincts. I don’t bother with the lights as I slip from my bedroom, just pad silently down the hall towards Jonas’ room and then nearly go into cardiac arrest when the faint light of the moon through the uncurtained windows lets me see I’m missing one Kelowran. Again.

Okay, keep calm, O’Neill. He’s in the bathroom. I check the bathroom. No, he’s not in there. Huh. Okay, maybe a little quiet nervousness as a prelude to some truly spectacular panicking might be allowed under the circumstances. Doing a pretty good job of keeping myself under control and not giving into the urge to bellow his name I force myself to thoroughly check the rest of the upper level before I head down the stairs. I even checked under the bed in case he’d rolled off and got himself stuck underneath it. Hey, it could happen!

There are no lights on downstairs and I’m just about to phone Carter, Daniel, the Lord God Almighty himself so I can share some of the alarm now wrapping its greasy coils around my heart when I catch a slight movement on the couch from the corner of my eye. “Jonas?” The huddled figure starts and slips off the edge of the cushion he’s perched on with a muffled exclamation. “Jonas, you okay?” I hurry across to the couch and find a crumpled alien lying on the floor and staring up at me reproachfully in the moonlight. “What are you doing sitting down here in the dark?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Looking annoyed, and just a little embarrassed, he grips the couch and hauls himself up. “I’m not tired.”

“O-kaay.” Thoroughly mystified, I heroically ignore the way the muscles play along his arms as he lifts himself up and then watch in bemusement as he pushes past me and heads for the stairs. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Back to bed.” I frown at the desolate undertone of his voice and watch as he pads away from me. “Sorry I woke you, sir.” And that’s it. Off he goes without any other explanation. The hell he does.

I follow him up the stairs and instead of walking past his doorway onto my own room as he clearly expects, I follow him inside and shut the door firmly behind me. He freezes for a moment and then turns to look at me with surprise all over his cute little face. “Sir?”

“Jonas, we’ve been over this. When we’re not at work then you call me Jack. I’m not spending the next god knows how many years living in this house with you feeling like I’m on permanent duty.” I ignore the stunned expression on his face to take his arm and guide him back to his bed. One quick shove to his shoulders and he’s bouncing on his ass as I grab his ankles and stuff them under the comforter. “Christ, your skin’s like ice, how long have you been down there?” I plump up his pillows and then push him back to rest on them before sitting down and fixing him with a stern look. “Okay, what’s up?” The look on his face as he avoids my eyes turns my spine to jello and I find myself reaching instinctively for his hand to give him some kind of comfort. And I’d like to remind anyone who might be thinking the word ‘sap’ at this point that I have a whole armoury of zats and I know how to use them. All of them.

“I just couldn’t sleep.” Although the tone of voice is unpromising, I can’t help but notice that the hand I’m currently holding curls tightly around my own as they lie on the bed. “I’m fine now. Jack.”

“Sure you are, kid.” My thumb seems to have decided to act independently of my brain and is now rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand but in the near pitch black of his room it seems ok. The moon is our only witness and unless Thor’s up there recording all this for posterity I don’t think we have to worry about being seen. “You can tell me if something’s bothering you. I’m no Daniel or Carter but I can sit pretty still and make non-committal noises with the best of ‘em.” He tries to laugh but it comes out as more of a sob. “C’mon Jonas, spill it.”

“Why did you come for me?” The words sound harsh and almost accusatory as he blurts them out into the small room and we both flinch at the unexpected force of them. Seconds later he’s trying to tug his hand from mine and roll away from me. “Sorry, forget I said that. I’m just over-tired, Colonel.”

“Get back here, Jonas.” I let go of his hand in favour of grabbing his shoulder and holding him in place on his pillows. My eyebrows lift as I feel a faint tremor in the muscles under my hands and my fingers relax slightly as I see the look of distress on his face in the moonlight. “Look, if we’re going to do the deep and meaningful talk can I at least put the light on?”

“NO!” Jonas sucks in a breath and I can feel him try to squirm away from me again.

“Okay, okay, no light!” He stops trying to wriggle away and just lies there watching me warily. “No light, Jonas, okay?” His head moves fractionally in a nod and I hesitantly let go of him. “We came for you because we missed you. Hell, the whole goddamn base missed you. You’ve got a lot of friends at the SGC, kid.”

Jonas eyes uncertainly me for a few seconds. “People have been very…kind.”

I snort. “’People’ have been very insane. You wouldn’t believe the shit the team’s had to put up with because we let you go. I tell ya, Jonas, one more day of looking at a banana and that damned flavourless white goop masquerading as ice-cream and I’d have lost it and zatted the entire commissary staff.”

“Oh.” He seems to shrink into himself on the bed and his head turns away from me again. “I see.”

Huh? He does? I wrack my brain frantically for whatever it was I said that now has him looking like I’ve just kicked a kitten and come up with nothing. Big fat nada. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that the gate techs have been trying to kill me every time I’ve shipped out this past month. And we don’t even wanna go into what Janet’s been putting us through in the Infirmary.” I didn’t think it was possible but he’s actually managing to shrink even further down in size. I’m obviously doing something wrong here. Think O’Neill, think.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to put up with that. I could talk to people at the base and then ask the General for a transfer to another team. I’m pretty sure he’d let me.”

What? I’m actually lost for words at his quiet mumble and it takes a good minute before I’m able to respond.

“What?” Ok, so I never said it was going to be a particularly intelligent response. “You think we went and dragged your ass back across the galaxy just for you to go join some other team?” My hands are reaching for him before I realise what I’m doing and the next thing I know I’m grabbing him off the bed and hauling him up to stare furiously into his startled eyes. “You’re going nowhere!”

Breathe, O’Neill, breathe. He’s got to have a physical tomorrow before Janet clears him for light duties and if the poison dwarf finds your paw prints all over his smooth skin there’s not an alien technology in the entire known universe advanced enough to heal you after she’s done. I force my fingers to loosen slightly and make a conscious effort not to growl when I open my mouth to speak. “Jonas, we came for you because we want you with us not some other goddamned unit.”

He ducks his head to hide his expression from me. “But you’ve already got Doctor Jackson, you don’t need me as well.”

Okay, screw the physical. My hands clench on his shoulders so hard I know that I’m leaving incriminating evidence behind but I don’t care. “Jonas, you are not interchangeable with Daniel! He’s great and we all love him but he’s not you.” I remind myself he’s had surgery in the last few days and just stop short of shaking him to make him look up and instead take one of my hands off his shoulder and transfer it to his chin. “He could never be you.” He stares at me speechlessly as I hold his chin up and make him look at me. “SG1 was a five man team from the moment you first went through the gate with us and just because it took us a while to get all the members on the same plane of reality and planet doesn’t mean we didn’t all know it.”

“But you let me leave.” His superior mind is going a mile a minute in that recently scrambled head and his face is twisted in puzzlement as he watches me cautiously. “You all said goodbye when Doctor Jackson came back.”

“Because we thought that was what you wanted, Jonas!” My hands are now kneading his shoulders as he seems to be so shocked by my declaration that he couldn’t move his head if his life depended on it. “If you’d have said one word to make us think otherwise we’d have done anything up to, and including, abducting you and hiding you out at my cabin to make you stay. Any one of us at the base was just waiting for you to say you didn’t want to leave and we would have done whatever it took to keep you with us.”

“Oh.” His shoulders droop under my hands and he gives me a lopsided smile. “I was waiting for you to ask me to stay.”

“Well, just so there’s no further misunderstanding, if you try to leave again you know that the SF’s have got orders to zat first and ask questions later, right?” I’m rewarded by the small smile growing until there’s no need for artificial light in the room because Jonas’ grin is flooding every corner with an almost blinding radiance.

“Okay.” His hands slide up to wrap around my wrists where my hands are still holding his shoulders. “Thank you.” My breath quickens as I feel the pads of his thumbs scrape across the skin of my inner wrists and I hope to God I’m not imagining the sudden look of shy yearning on his face. “For everything.” I narrow my eyes and squint, hoping that will somehow help me see him better.

Why, oh why did I not insist on putting the damn light on?

“Jonas…” My hands are drifting from his shoulders to slide around the nape of his neck and into his hair. “That’s not the only reason I came after you.” He’s not pulling away from my hands; instead his mouth is falling slightly open as he leans into my touch. “It’s not all to do with the SGC.”

“It’s not?” His voice is a husky whisper and his hands have left my wrists so he can brace himself on the mattress to scoot closer to me. “Really?”

I shake my head at his hopeful question and tilt my head forward until our lips are just millimetres apart. “No. There was something else as well.” This is it, Jonas. Last chance to get the hell away from me before I do what I’ve been dreaming about every night for what feels like forever. He’s not moving away from me just sitting still under my hands and waiting. I hesitate for another second before I lean forward and close the last gap between us. He’s warm and soft under my mouth and tastes faintly of toothpaste but there is no hesitation as his lips part beneath mine and he willingly follows where I lead him as I take his mouth with my own. I keep it light and a tight hold on my instinctive reaction to haul him close and savage the soft flesh being offered so openly to me, but we’re both still gasping for breath when I eventually pull back and look in his dazed eyes. “Okay?”

“Yes, sir.” He smiles in apology at my pained wince. “Sorry. Jack. I meant to say Jack.”

“Jonas, you know you don’t have to do this, right?” I tilt my head forward to rest against his and stroke the soft skin on his neck. “You’ll have a home here with me as long as you want it. I don’t want you to feel that…”

“I dreamt of you at night on Kelowna.” The hurried confession stops me dead in my tracks and I pull back in surprise as he babbles on. “Even when that thing was in my head I used to dream of you and I being together like this. I couldn’t understand why I still cared for you so much when I knew you hated me, but I couldn’t make myself stop dreaming about you when I slept.”

“I didn’t hate you, Jonas.” I swear, if I weren’t in love with him before then I’d be falling like debris from a mothership that SG1 had just blown up at the earnest look on his face. “I missed you all the time and I was pretty ticked that you left me without looking back, but I didn’t hate you.” We’re both grinning like idiots as I finish speaking and then our mouths are searching each other out again for another way overdue bout of tongue action. And, oh man, what a tongue this guy has.

The next time we come up for air we’re sprawled on the bed with me braced over him and one of his thighs rubbing restlessly at my crotch. God, I hope Thor’s nowhere in the vicinity because now is not the time to decide he absolutely has to have me go and save the damn galaxy again. Just in case I roll to the side and pull Jonas with me to wrap my arms around him so if I’m going then I can at least make sure he’s going with me. “We should slow down.” My voice has been reduced to a barely audible growl as his hands roam restlessly over my chest and back and he nuzzles at my throat. “We shouldn’t rush into anything.”

“Why?” Jonas sounds a little husky himself and I grin at the petulant note in his voice that I just know is accompanied by a pout of that adorable mouth. “I feel fine and it’s not like I haven’t done this before.” Whoa. So didn’t see that one coming.

“It isn’t?” I manage to detach his lips from my neck and twist my head to stare down at him. “This isn’t your first time?”

Jonas raises an eyebrow in a manner very reminiscent of Teal’c at his most annoying and sighs. “Jack, I may be inexperienced in a lot of Earth’s ways but I’m not a complete innocent. I’ve had relationships before. With both sexes.”

“Oh.” I can’t think of anything to say. Gotta admit I’m a little disappointed that I’ve missed that particular first time with him. “I see.”

“I mean, I’m not exactly up to the same standard as the people on the Spice Channel or anything, but I’m no child in the forest.” Huh? Oh, right, he means babe in the woods. Cute. Meanwhile, Jonas is warming to his theme. “I definitely know what I’m doing and I don’t think I’ve ever had any complaints, although I have only had a few partners and admittedly there isn’t always a lot of time to compare notes when we’ve all got our clothes sorted out and back on, but…”

“What?!” Now completely shocked, I twist until he’s on his back and I’m looming over him and then I catch the muffled snigger as he tries to keep a straight face at my, no doubt, pop eyed expression. “That was not funny.”

“Oh, yes, it was.” Shaking with laughter, Jonas winds his arms around my neck and pulls my face down to his. “I thought you were going to bust a blood vessel.” He nibbles at my lips and smiles hopefully at me. “I promise I know what I’m doing and that you aren’t taking advantage of me, Jack. I may be younger than you but I’m my own man and you aren’t forcing me to do anything that I don’t want to do.”

Don’t bet on it, kid. That little number you just pulled took five years off an already shaky lifeline and I am so gonna get my revenge. Just remember me when you find yourself inexplicably stuck on the rota for latrine cleaning for the next month. I have the power and I’m not afraid to abuse it! He sighs again as I still find myself hesitating and then shifts slightly before tilting his hips up to meet mine and all the evidence I need that he wants this is suddenly right there pressing up against me. Well he-llooo, Jonas.

“Please, Jack?” Those hips stop just pressing and now start moving in slow, insistent circles. “Please?” Have I mentioned I have zero self-control in certain situations? Ask any megalomaniac alien I’ve run across in the past few years. Sometimes it’s all I can do to wait until I get clear of the room before I start blowing things up. And speaking of things blowing….

“My room.” I push myself up and barely manage to yank him to his feet before I start dragging him behind me to the door. “Bed’s bigger.” And just in case you were wondering, that’s a big fat lie. My room comes equipped with lots of little extras like an orthopaedic mattress and an en suite bathroom. Oh yeah, and lube, let’s not forget the lube. No matter how sure I am that Jonas is getting into this with those pretty eyes wide open I’m still confident he hasn’t managed to get his hands on certain essentials that will make this a much more pleasant experience for all concerned. Unless he’s batted his eyelashes at Feretti again and SG2 has gone where no marine has gone before. Officially anyway. Unpleasant pictures suddenly appear in my mind. Jesus, don’t go there, Jack!

We make my room without another technicolour shot of Lou Feretti’s ass appearing in my mind and when we get to the bed I turn to face him, suddenly aware that there is one more thing I need to make clear to my soon-to-be new lover. “Jonas, you know when we’re on the base we can’t tell people that we’re together, right? It’s like me wanting to date Carter or Janet but…”

His warm fingers touch my mouth and his face stares solemnly up at me. “But worse because we’re two men?” He nods. “Don’t worry, Jack, I won’t tell anyone.”

The hell with that plan. “Jonas, if it was just us that would be affected then I’d be taking out a full page ad in the base newsletter.” I slip my hands around his waist and tug him forward until he’s flush against me. “I have to think of the rest of the base and what certain people could do with the information if they found out about us.” I bend my head and brush the softest of kisses over his ear. “But there’s also no way I’m going to hide what we have like a dirty little secret from our family and friends. We’ll get the guys, Janet and Hammond over this weekend and make an announcement, ok? I want the people that matter to know we’re together.” A sudden thought strikes me. “Unless you don’t want to. Do you want to keep us secret?”

“No.” Jonas has his head buried in the curve of my neck and he shakes it emphatically even as his arms wind around me and he presses even closer. “No, I don’t want to hide either.”

“Sweet.” And speaking of sweet…my hands have somehow drifted from his waist to his ass and I find myself with twin handfuls of some very succulent flesh, I squeeze experimentally and he bucks forward to mash our groins together once more. And I’m rampaging around the galaxy insisting that there are no gods when the proof of their existence is right there in my bedroom with me? O’Neill, sometimes you really are a complete moron.

“Kiss me, Jonas.” His face comes up, he presses his mouth to mine eagerly and there’s suddenly no need to say anything else because all I can focus on is the feel and taste of him finally in my arms. We fall back on the bed and I’m happy to lay with him on top of me as those capable, eager hands get busy delving under my t-shirt and discovering previously unchartered territory as my own equally busy hands shove under the thin cotton vest he’s wearing and stroke over his back and then down to his flexing ass. His mouth is hot and wet and my whole body bucks as his lips and teeth drag over the pulse point in my neck sending a bolt of almost painful lust down to my groin. I pull insistently at his vest and somehow manage to get it over his head and then my hands and lips are streaking over his smooth chest as I settle in for a little discovering of my own.

I last under a minute before I can’t control the urge to roll him beneath me and I hear a surprised whoof of air above my head as he finds himself flat on his back and my head swooping down to latch onto one of his flat nipples as my hands skim over his stomach and under the waist band of his cotton jammie bottoms to find him hot and so, so ready for me and my desperate touch. His hands, that were just starting to recover from their surprise at being flung on his back and were getting busy again, suddenly go boneless and slip off my shoulders as I rub my thumb gently over his tip and his back arches as I do it again but this time making sure to give his length a firm squeeze as I do so.

A choked gasp, another helpless buck of his hips and he’s all mine to do with as I please as I continue to mercilessly work him until I feel the tell-tale tremors start in his thighs and then I do what I’ve been wanting to do for so long that it almost feels like I haven’t lived a day in my life without the constant niggle at the back of my mind. I take my hand from him, bend my head and open my mouth and I taste Jonas.

All the way, straight down and the scream from the head of the bed as my tongue drags against him and my teeth scrape over his flesh tells me that he was as unprepared for the intensity of this experience as I was. He’s literally throbbing in my mouth and I have to grab his hips and hold him down as he tries to scramble away from what seems to be overwhelming sensations but I don’t let up sucking and massaging him with my tongue for an instant and another breathless wail is the only warning I receive before he explodes in my mouth and I’m swallowing as fast as I can as he shoots everything he has down my throat.

He lies on the bed gasping for air and I take advantage of the fact that he can’t move as I strip his cotton jammies from his legs to leave him naked and defenceless as I kiss my way back up his unresisting body before claiming his slack mouth in a bruising kiss. There is little or no response and I become mildly concerned that I’ve broken him before the weak scrabbling at my back alerts me to the fact that he’s trying to get his arms round me in an embrace but he’s currently too wasted with pleasure to manage it. I plant another hard kiss on him as I find I really like the normally hyper Jonas too weak to even speak and then roll on my back to bring him with me and cuddle his still shuddering body against mine. “You okay?” One hand cups his head and tweaks gently on his hair as the other sweeps wide soothing circles over the damp skin of his back. “Jonas?”

“Yes.” He buries his face against the base of my throat and tries to wriggle even closer to me. “It was never like that in my dreams. That was…”

“Intense?” I grin stupidly up at the dark ceiling and mentally pat myself on the back in congratulation. Oh yeah, you’ve still got it, O’Neill.

“Scary.” The grin falls off my face at the hesitant word and my hands still on his skin. “I’ve never been so overwhelmed before.”

Way to make me feel like a dirty old man, Jonas. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?” There’s a very strained silence. “Right?”

“Yes.” But the tone of voice only says ‘I think so.’

“Jonas, look at me.” I try to turn my head and then when he stubbornly refuses to raise his face I shift so we’re lying side by side and he has no choice but to look at me as our noses touch. “This isn’t a sudden thing for me. I’ve had feelings for you for a long time and I might have gotten a little carried away trying to show you how much you mean to me.” He lies still in my arms and just looks back at me and I realise I’m gonna have to go all the way and tell him everything. Jesus, there’s never an inter-galactic crisis around when you want one. Damn snakeheads.

“Jonas, I love you. As in I’m in love with you. All the way in love with you and I probably will be for as long as I can manage to keep us both alive.” A small hiss of breath is his only response and I tentatively start to stroke the hair back from his temple. “I’ve only ever loved three men like this in my entire life. The guy that made me wise up to all the delights of the mano e mano thing, a man that died when I served in Iraq and now you. I don’t do this with men unless I am very very sure that I love them the way you should when you risk everything that matters for them.”

“Oh.” I can feel him start to relax against me again and he turns his head into my hand. “So this isn’t just a convenience thing for you?” I think the outraged splutter from me is enough to convince him never, ever, to say that to me again. If it’s not then the hand that was previously tenderly stroking his cheek and is now gripping his face hard enough to have his eyes popping in his head in shock is a pretty big clue. “Jack! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I love you, Jonas. Try and remember it.” He gives me a jerky nod and then works his jaw disbelievingly from side to side when I release his face and fall onto my back to stare up at the ceiling once more.

There’s a silence of some minutes before his face appears slowly in my line of vision and he peers down at me. “Are you still mad at me?” I grunt and refuse to return the smile he gives me. “Would it help if I said I’m in love with you too?”

And suddenly he has my undivided attention. “Are you likely too?”

“Yup.” A genuine, light-up-a-pitch-black-room Jonas Quinn grin almost blinds me and he leans down to kiss me. “If fact I’d say it’s almost a definite.” He props himself up on one elbow and his other hand starts to walk it’s way down my suddenly tense stomach. “Everything seems to make a lot more sense now that I’m not alone in the whole love situation.” His face screws up thoughtfully. “You know, for all the time people on Earth spend obsessing about relationships you’d think someone, somewhere, would tell you it’s not always a pleasant feeling to fall in love. Sam certainly didn’t mention that I’d spent months feeling like I was going to throw up and have to cope with sweating palms every time I got near the person I wanted when she told me all about dating.”

Is my boy romantic or what? Completely ruins a very promising time in the sack by thinking I’m just using him for his admittedly hot body and then tells me I make him want to toss his cookies every time I get near him.

And suddenly I am so not caring as his hand closes around the contents of my own jammies and I jerk as he begins to stroke me firmly. He dips his head and captures my mouth with his as his hand starts to move a little faster and I’m suddenly seeing where he was coming from few minutes ago when he was splayed helplessly on my mattress. Nope, definitely didn’t see it getting this extreme between us first time out of the gate. Pardon the pun.

His mouth is so hot and wet and his tongue is now thrusting against mine in rhythm with his pumping hand and I cannot tell you just what effect this is having on my already precarious control. Seriously, I really can’t. All that seems to make sense in my world at the moment is Jonas’ slightly callused palm rubbing and flexing against my pulsing flesh and his tongue battling with mine in the depths of my gasping mouth. Jesus! My hands are roaming all over his torso and then he’s pulling his mouth from mine and bucking against my thigh as I slip a finger into the crease between his buttocks. Encouraged by the response first time out, I do it again and mentally give a resounding cheer for younger male lovers because there’s something long and hard pressing against me as he shudders and shakes with reaction and I know it’s not his sidearm!

“Jack!” His voice is harsh with lust and shock as I rub in teasing circles around his opening and his hand clenches almost painfully around me as I exert just the smallest amount of pressure and feel his body give before me. “Jack, what are you doing?”

Uh-oh. The hand that is not currently trying to make my oh, so subtle way inside him goes down to clamp on his hand that is doing such tormenting things to my self-control and holds him still. “Jonas…” I clear my throat and try again. This time I’m shooting for caring and concerned lover and not practically-homicidal-crazed-sex- predator on the edge. “Jonas, I thought you said you’d done this before.”

“I have.” His body is still undulating against me but I have a sudden nasty suspicion he has no idea what he’s so desperately searching for. “I’ve just never done that.” His ass pushes back against my hand and the softness of his buttocks is flattened against my fingers and palm. “But I think I want to.”

Oh man, why me? I ask you, have I really been such a bad person over the years that I deserve this? I know I was a little ticked before when he so loftily informed me that he wasn’t exactly a newcomer to the manly side of the bedroom Olympics but I got over it pretty quickly when I realised that it meant I could look forward to nailing him to the mattress without worrying about calming any pesky virginal qualms. I tell ya, somewhere in the cosmos there’s a hell full of snakeheads that I’ve blown to shit all laughing their wriggling little asses off at me. Possibly with Apophis leading the ‘na-na-na’ section. Crap.

“Jack?” Jonas is trying to shake off my restraining hand on his wrist and go back to his previous activity of driving me insane. Don’t sweat it, kid. Trust me when I say you’ve accomplished that very nicely just by opening your mouth and asking another one of your innocent damn questions. Goddamn it.

“Jonas, stop a minute.” I ignore the plaintive moan as I pull my hand away from his butt and roll until I’m once again braced above him. “What exactly did you mean earlier when you were experienced in all this? Be very specific.”

He tries to stretch up to capture my mouth once again but when I move back out of reach gives an annoyed sigh and thumps his head back on the pillows. “I’ve been with other men.” He obviously catches the look on my face in the moonlight and wisely continues with less of the attitude and more of the requested specifics. “Two men. We kissed and touched and we had oral sex. Like you did to me.”

Oh yeah, no doubt about it. Apophis is leading the ‘na-na’s’ and Hathor is assembling a cheer squad to root for little ol’ innocent Jonas and his incredibly effective O’Neill disabling technique. They’re probably already working on way to get this new info over to their more alive snakey buddies. Don’t worry about recruiting thousands of new Jaffa, guys! All ya gotta do to take that grey haired bastard out of the equation is get him hard enough to pound nails into wood and then drop a naked Kelowran on him with no idea of what comes next. He’ll never see it coming. In all senses of the word.

“Aw, hell.” I lean forward to touch my head to his as I close my eyes and force myself not to curl up in a frustrated ball and howl incoherently into a pillow. “Jonas, are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

“No.” By now sounding distinctly puzzled, I feel Jonas shake his head against mine and push worriedly against my shoulders to try and raise me up. “I told you, I’ve been with both sexes.”

“And you, ah…penetrated the women, right?” Oh God, please say yes, Jonas. Please.

“Of course.” Now moving rapidly past puzzled and into just plain offended, Jonas pushes harder against my shoulders and wriggles beneath me. “What do you think I did with them?” Jonas, at this particular moment, I really couldn’t begin to say. Ok, deep breath, Jack. Take the bull by the horn. Hopefully.

“That’s what I wanted to do to you, Jonas.” I open my eyes and raise my head to try and see his face in the dim light. “Penetrate you.”

“I know.” Jonas nods in agreement and smiles in confusion. “And I want you to.” Oh Christ, put it together kid. Let’s get that oversized brain thinking here! I rock my hips against him and let him feel the hard fact of exactly what I want to penetrate him with and the smile slowly melts off his face. “With that?” He looks like he’s going to pass out on me as I rock my hips again and the object in question presses hard against him. “Sir, that’s never gonna fit!”

So, on the upside, I no longer have to worry about Apophis and the rest taunting me as they’ve all laughed themselves unconscious at the look of sheer terror on Jonas’ face as he peers incredulously down between our bodies. And he’s so traumatised he’s gone back to calling me sir. Yup, this is fast turning into the first time from hell. Anytime Thor wants to beam me up is just fine by me.

Ok, first things first. “Jonas, it’s Jack, not sir, ok?” He’s frozen beneath me like any sudden movement is going to unleash the awesome power of an uncontrolled O’Neill all over his untouched ass and, unless I’m much mistaken, it looks like he might be starting to hyperventilate as well. For cryin’ out loud, Thor, make with the beaming already!

“And you need to calm down.” I roll off him and pull his rigid body into me, sighing regretfully as close proximity reveals the fine upstanding eagerness of a few moments before has been cruelly replaced by Mr Squidgy who seems to making a very spirited attempt to actually crawl up inside his body it’s so desperate to get away from me. My hands go to work once more at rubbing and soothing his skin and I whisper comforting nonsense under my breath, as he lies rigid against me. Well, most of him rigid anyway.

We lie there for ages, me stroking and Jonas lost in a nightmare of penetration scenarios no doubt, until finally I feel the slightest give in his body and then he’s relaxing into me again and rubbing his face against my shoulder in time with the strokes of my hand on his back. “If I let you won’t that make me…I mean, I’ll be the woman, won’t I?”

I knew all those years in Special Ops would come in handy someday. That’s got to be the only reason I don’t jerk clean off the bed at his cautious question and land in an hysterical heap on the floor. I bite my lip until I’m absolutely sure that I won’t let rip with a belly laugh that will definitely guarantee I’ll be finishing this night alone and then turn my head to brush a kiss over his ruffled hair. “No, Jonas, it won’t make you the woman. We definitely have the edge on them in this department.” I tighten my arms around him and kiss him again as he snuggles against me slightly reassured by my firm answer. “I’d let you do it to me, but you really need to know exactly what you’re doing when you attempt it and the only way find out is to show you.”

“Oh.” You can almost hear him thinking this through. “Does it hurt?”

THOR!!!

When it becomes obvious the little grey bastard is so not tuned to Radio Jack tonight, I sigh and prepare myself to send Jonas freewheeling back into his personal pit of terror once more. “It can do, especially if it’s not done right.” I pause, but he doesn’t seem to be making any attempt to beat me off with the nearest heavy object so I plunge on. “The first time is always a little…uncomfortable…to start off with, but if you do it right then it can be like nothing you’ve ever felt before in your life.”

Another silence stretches between us and just when I think my soothing hands have soothed a little too much and he’s drifted off to sleep, he shifts and cuddles closer. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, Jonas, I do.” My hand drifts up from his back and tangles in his hair as I consider just how long it has been for me since I felt that particular pleasure. “A lot.”

“Ok.” I can’t help my grin as I feel him brace himself and mentally commend his soul, and ass, to my keeping. “If you want to, I’d like to try.” Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the Little Kelowran That Would.

“Jonas, I’m not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with, ok? It’s a very intimate and personal thing you’re asking for and if you’re not ready for it, emotionally or physically, it could get very messy. The trust issues alone…”

“I trust you, Jack.” His head makes it out of his hideaway in the crook of my neck and he finally looks me full in the face. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me and I believe you. I want you to be my first. Please, Jack?” Ah, hell. It’s a better man than me that could resist that pleading voice.

“Okay.” If I’m gonna do this, then I’m gonna do it right. I don’t make any move to immediately mount him and pound him through the bed as he’s obviously expecting from the instinctive tensing of his muscles, but instead continue to stroke and pet him until he is once again relaxed. Once I’m sure he’s okay again I bring one hand up to tilt his face to mine and start a series of soft, patient kisses that have him straining for more as I deliberately refuse to deepen them and instead just concentrate on getting him worked up to his previous happy state. My hands are getting a little more insistent now as I feel him start to harden against me and I move us until he’s on his back and then start a trail of kisses down his throat as I find a small, hard nipple and begin to lightly pinch and roll it between my fingers. He starts to make a very encouraging noise in the back of his throat as my mouth moves damply down his neck and across his chest to start licking at his other nipple and I give a mental cheer as the insistent poking that has started against my thigh tells me he’s once more raring to go.

And he’s not one to remain idle either. Displaying that strong team player mentality that so endeared him to me in the first place, Jonas has finally decided to do something about the fact that I’m still clothed and is easing my jammies off my hips and cupping and stroking what he’s uncovered with enthusiasm and it’s all I can do not to thrust mindlessly in his hands and forget about all the messy initiation business until tomorrow. He wasn’t lying when he said he had experience in this, as his nimble fingers and the palm of one hand that is pressing and rolling my balls are fast reducing me to an incoherent mass of sensation and lust and it’s with great regret that I pull back and instead head south to do that thing with my mouth that was such a big hit last time.

One of the main advantages that my particular lifestyle choices have given me is that I can simultaneously orally stimulate the necks of willing aliens and fumble in my beside cabinet for a tube of lube without said willing alien noticing anything out of the ordinary. Gotta love Colonels who know how to multi-task. I pause before taking him into my mouth to pull off my clothes and make sure I can get what I need from the tube hidden in the blankets by his thigh and then it’s open season on Jonas as I lick slowly and deliberately up the very impressive erection bobbing against his stomach.

He’s twisting and turning beneath me once more, but this time it’s in a bid to get me to speed up not slow down. I shamelessly hold him fast in the wetness of my mouth and then smirk to myself as I begin to hum against him and the choked gasp as he arches off the bed tells me I’d better move onto to next part of the plan before he’s once again as limp as a wet noodle. While Jonas is occupied with my vibrating tongue and lips I manage to flip the top on the tube and squeeze a small amount of cold, thick liquid onto my palm. I slow down the vibrations on Jonas as I wait for it to heat up and then liberally coat one finger and coax his legs apart with my hands.

Jonas is so far gone he doesn’t even notice that my hand is now between his thighs and I take my time rubbing and coaxing the skin there until I finally brush my finger over the puckered opening and begin to rub lazy circles against him. He tenses for a moment but I step up the attention with my mouth and pretty soon his legs are stretched so wide apart he’s in danger of doing himself a permanent injury and he’s pushing his butt down against my finger, begging incoherently for me to fill him.

I make sure that my finger is as slicked up as I can get it and then very slowly I begin to twist my way inside him. The heat is incredible as I breach that tight ring of muscle of the first time and the skin inside is so soft it feels like I’m slipping into pure velvet. I take my time working my way in, making sure to keep it gentle but also making sure that there’s plenty of slow friction to make this as pleasurable an experience as it can be for him. At last I’m in all the way up to the base of my finger and although Jonas is undeniably tenser than he was a few seconds ago, there’s also no real sign of resistance and I smile around the flesh still in my mouth as I push my finger in as far as it will go and give a firm push against the raised nub that should be just about…there! Jonas’ shocked shout bounces off the walls and he bucks hard against my face as I sweep the tip of my finger over his prostate once more and then he’s reduced to babbling incoherently as I begin to massage him like no other Colonel has ever massaged him before.

I raise my head and forget about the oral part of the show as I twist and turn my finger inside him, I really want to see how he looks at this moment and I’m not disappointed. His head is thrashing backwards and forwards on the pillow and even in the weak light coming thorough the windows I can see the muscles straining in his neck and shoulders as he fights against the pleasure I’m giving him. A low moan of frustration is pulled from him as I remove my finger and then he’s writhing against the sheets again as I reapply the lube and slip two fingers inside him. Very carefully I scissor them apart inside him, stretching him slowly and making sure to give the sweet spot inside him just enough attention to keep him wild on the bed beneath me but not enough to let him release all the tension that is wracking his very appealing body.

By the time we get to three fingers and a little more aggressive thrusting, Jonas is pushing against my hand desperately and begging me to finish it, finish him; just to do something for pity’s sake because he thinks he can’t take anymore. How wrong can one alien get?

He’s clenching himself around my fingers as I pull them free, frantic not to lose the sensations that are overloading an already dangerously sensitive body and then he’s gasping with surprise as I flip him onto his stomach and snatch a pillow from the head of the bed to stuff under his twitching hips. There are no words to describe how he looks in the moonlight, ass gleaming and the insides of his spread thighs glistening with traces of the lubricant I have used to ready him for me. I can’t take my eyes off him as I coat myself until I shine with the last of the lube and then carefully spread the cheeks of his ass. He tenses up again as he realises this is the moment of truth, but I’m ready with low whispers of reassurance and gentle touches as I nudge the tip of myself at his opening and he takes several deep breaths as I begin to broach him and feel the conscious effort he makes to relax. The first jolt of heat as I ease inside him is nothing I could have prepared myself for. I’ve been shot by zat, intar, staff weapon; you name it, but nothing could even come close to the feel of Jonas Quinn’s body surrendering to mine as I sink into the hot, tightness of him. I ride out the muffled sounds of not-quite-protest as I stretch him wider than I had previously and my arms are shaking with effort as I fight not to just slam inside and mash those shivering buttocks against my groin as I take my fill of him.

Finally I’m in to the root and we both lay still as we adjust to this intimate new level of our relationship. I brush my lips over the back of his neck as I mutter words of love and encouragement to him and ignore the fact that I am finally where I have been fantasising about for God alone knows how long. Nothing I ever dreamed up when I was alone in my bed and was pounding into my own fist even comes close to what I’m experiencing now. I didn’t take into account the fact that Jonas can’t help but make little breathless moans under my weight and that his skin shivers everywhere my own is touching it. The smell of both our arousals is heavy in the air and I completely failed to take into account just how out of control I would feel at the sensation of him surrounding me and squeezing me like an unrelenting fist.

I start to rock tentatively against him, alert to any signs of pain or panic in the body beneath me, but he is lax against the mattress, not fighting me but not participating either. That’s cool. I remember my first time and the twin feelings of vulnerability and disbelief that you’re actually letting someone do this to you, that you actually asked for it and I know I may be on my own here for a little while longer. He feels softer around me now, less tense and more accepting and my hips jerk a little harder against him as I aim once more for his prostate. It takes another few strokes but finally I manage to hit it straight on and the effect is amazing for both of us. Jonas shudders from head to foot and the already tight muscles that I’m rocking into clutch at me so hard I think I’m going to pop my cork right there and then. And now things get kinda hazy.

The restraint that I’m hanging onto by the skin of my teeth is shredding itself as Jonas begins to thrust back against me with little grunts and pants. I slip a hand around one hip to guide him up onto his hands and knees and then reach around to take the long weight of him into my hand and start to stroke him. We’re both shuddering now, hips are bucking harder than either of us really intended but we can’t stop. I’m pushing into Jonas as fast as I can and he’s thrusting forward with every move of my hips to send himself hammering into my waiting hand.

He goes first with a muffled scream, his body finally gives and releases itself all over my hand, bedspread and pillow and then my head goes back as his muscles shudder around me so tightly it feels like he’s actually going to cut me off at the root. Over and over I feel myself flood into him and I can’t quite stop a hoarse scream of my own as the final helpless spasm seems to rip everything I have out of my balls and leave me more drained than I can ever remember being.

“Jack?” Jonas sounds dazed and breathless and I feel a moments pride that this crusty old Colonel managed to bring him to this state and then I feel mighty stupid when I realise that he’s actually pinned to the mattress beneath my weight and I’m suffocating him. Doh! It takes everything I have left to pull myself away from him with any kind of finesse, but I’m rewarded when he rolls off the shapeless mess that was my pillow and tucks back against me to allow me to wrap him in my arms and spoon my body around him. We lie quietly, listening to each other breathe, one of his hands drifting lightly up and down one of my forearms as I hold him and feel his heart begin to slow in his chest. “I love you.”

The quiet words have me closing my eyes tightly and pressing my face into the back of his head as I try to maintain the kiss ass toughness I’m renowned for the galaxy over, but then I remember that this is Jonas I’m holding and he deserves nothing less than my complete honesty in all things. “I know. I love you too, Jonas.” I snuggle closer and bring my lips to his ear. “Promise me something?” He hesitates fractionally before nodding and I brush a reassuring kiss over the heated skin of his shoulder. “Don’t leave again?” That wasn’t quite what I meant to say and he knows it. The little bastard is waiting for me to say the words. Well fine. Just don’t come crying to me when the full weight of Jonathan O’Neill in love crashes down on you Jonas Quinn and you find yourself drowning and lost under all the pent up emotions and feelings that haven’t been lavished on anyone in so long that I feel like I’m splintering apart just acknowledging they exist. “Don’t leave me again?”

“Okay, Jack.” He tangles his fingers with mine and presses a kiss to the back of my hand to seal the bargain. I smile as he shifts slightly to get more comfortable and then just listen to his breath even out as he slips away from me into sleep. I’m aching all over from our decidedly up and down evening and, not to put too fine a point on it, things are a little uncomfortable as fluids start to dry on my skin but I’m so happy I’m considering giving the next snakehead I meet a get out of jail free card just so someone else gets to experience the knock-on effect of me loving Jonas and him loving me right back. The world is looking mighty fine to me as I close my eyes and prepare to join my new lover in sleep.

Then thirty seconds later I’m pop-eyed with terror as I realise that Janet Frasier is going to be examining Jonas in minute detail in less than ten hours and is going to be only too aware just how he spent his last night of recuperation and rehabilitation. I am so dead. Jonas shifts slightly in my arms and murmuring about flash floods and bananas and an unrepentant grin stretches my face. Yep, so dead, but it was so so worth it. All the same, it can’t hurt to put in a call to Thor in the morning. I hear the ass end of the universe is very nice this time of year.

~*~*~*

The End.

FIC: Bring Him Home, Colonel (1/2) SLASH, NC17, Stargate SG1, Jack/Jonas

Tue, 17 Jan 2006 10:03:41 GMT

Title: Bring Him Home, Colonel
Author: msgordo
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Jack/Jonas
Disclaimer: Not mine, not a one.
Spoilers: Set sometime after Season 7, so probably, but I don’t think I mention anything specific.
Category: Humour, Angst, Romance, First Time, Jack POV
Synopsis: Everyone’s had enough of life without Jonas and Jack’s just the man to bring him back.
A/N: This is my first Jonas fic, my first slash fic in the Stargate fandom and my first fic with Jack as part of the main focus of the story. ::grins:: It’s a first for everyone!

~*~*~*

Part 1.

Y’know, I’ve seen some weird stuff in my time. Carter before she puts her face on in the mornings, Daniel before coffee, even Teal’c really annoyed when Star Wars: Attack Of The Clones finished with just a kiss and Padme and Anakin didn’t get jiggy on screen; but I’ve never seen an entire military base sulk like the SGC when Jonas Quinn stepped through the Stargate and left us to return to his own planet. I mean, seriously, it’s not like anyone but his team should have been affected by his leaving. Okay, the marines used to hang around with him on base a lot when we were on downtime, and the General kinda had a thing for Jonas and those sweet little cookies he used to make so they were warm with his mid-morning cup of coffee but other than that no one should really care. But they do.

Frasier and her nurses have been terrifying the life out of anyone that steps foot in their Infirmary and plugging butts with needles like there’s no tomorrow. The Gateroom techs have shortened the ramp to the Stargate twice this month without telling us and I swear they were trying to get me with the damn whooshy thing before we shipped out on our last mission. The commissary staff has stocked nothing but bananas and military issue vanilla ice cream as dessert for the last six months and just glare at me and threaten to go on strike if I ask for something else.

Even Thor’s getting mean. There must have been someway he could tell I was on the john the last time he beamed my ass up to a ship full of little grey aliens. And there’s no way I’m believing the Roswell refugee when he tells me the picture of me sprawled ass bare on the floor of his ship clutching a copy of ‘Military Men’ and giving a somewhat unorthodox salute of my own ended up in the clutches of Yu and Anubis’ armies by accident. I tell ya, something weird is definitely going on.

On the upside, it’s not just me that seems to be suffering. SG1 seems to have gone from being the main team on base to the geeks hanging out by the fridge at a party you wouldn’t talk to if your life and the fate of the planet rested on it. Carter’s scientists won’t do anything but mutter long and complex codes at twice the speed of light and in a really, really small whisper when she tries to talk to them, Teal’c can’t find anyone to spar with and someone keeps letting all the sawdust out of his favourite punching bag and Daniel’s gone from being prodigal descended being that was welcomed back with open arms to being-most-likely-to-be-knocked-unconcious-before-he-sets-foot-out-of-his-office-door-in-the-morning. I’m not kidding. He’s ended up in the Infirmary unconscious four times in the last eight weeks and the last time he didn’t even make it up from his desk before a rock on his shelf mysteriously jumped off and clocked him round the head. Which is why I called this meeting.

The four of us are sitting morosely in my office and trying to figure out when things started to go wrong for all of us without actually saying it. That moment when that smile shone on us for the last time and then he disappeared through the event horizon. For cryin’ out loud, he was only here a year and he’s got people who have been like family to each other for nearly a decade moping around like someone shot their favourite puppy.

Carter’s staring into her coffee cup and blinking those baby blues as she waits for someone else to speak. Teal’c is glaring at the wall and pouting like no Jaffa has pouted before and Daniel is nursing the new lump on his head with an ice pack and trying not to put too much pressure on his butt from Janet’s latest assault with a needle. I grind my teeth and realise that it’s going to be up to me to say it. “We’re gonna have to go get him back.” Three pairs of eyes turn in my direction and stare at me waiting for me to continue. “We can’t just leave him out there. Nobody gets left behind, right?”

“Technically, sir, he did the leaving.” Carter bites her lip and looks like she’s gonna burst into tears. “He walked away from us.”

“He was most eager to return to his own people, O’Neill.” Teal’c looks like he’s going to join Carter and his eyebrows are working overtime as he fights not to break down. “I do not believe he would wish to come back to Earth.”

“We’re his own people!” Ok, so my frustrated shout sounded a little more passionate than I intended but it got their attention. “Those freaks never appreciated him like we do.”

Daniel heaved a sigh. “I didn’t even really know him and I can’t seem to get him out of my head. Even in my lab I can feel him everywhere I turn.” He turned those puppy dog eyes on me. “That desk wasn’t made for one person, Jack.”

“I know!” I throw up my hands and manage to resist adding that neither is my bed. Barely. “But what are we gonna do about it?” I watch as the three of them exchange glances and then look back at me. “What?”

“We could go after him.” Carter’s eyes are shining hopefully at me for the first time in what feel like forever. “We could go to the planet and explain how things are.”

I snort. “What, that our own people seem intent on making our lives as uncomfortable as they can and that Daniel needs 24/7 protection from Teal’c just to make sure he makes it through the day conscious?” I snort again. “Yeah, remind me why he’d care?”

“He’d be concerned, Colonel.” Carter’s eyes shimmered warningly with tears once again. “That’s how Jonas is.” She gasps and claps a hand over her mouth as she utters the name we haven’t spoken in the six months he’s been gone and it suddenly makes all the emotions and unspoken thoughts in the my office flesh. Jonas. The one thing we all want and the one thing none of us have. And it all seems incredibly simple now.

I reach for my phone and dial Hammond’s number. “General, permission to ship out in an hour?” I grin at my team as I answer the General’s startled question and they grin back. “We’re going to Kelowna, sir. Those archaeologist-framing-weasels have something of ours and we want it back. Yessir, we’re bringing him home.”

~*~*~*

To say the people of Kelowna, or Laryngitis, or whatever the hell they’re calling themselves this week were under whelmed to see us was putting it mildly. We’d burst through the Stargate a team on a mission and it was only due to the fact that Teal’c kept growling at the losers that tried to block us searching for Jonas that we made it out of the conference room they tried to keep us in and into the main hub of their community. That, and Daniel yelling at anyone that would listen that he absolutely promised not to shoot his way through any windows and die from radiation poisoning this time around. The four of us stomped towards the last office we knew for certain Jonas had occupied only to find when we burst through the door that it was now housing a squeaking little man with a bad toupee. Definitely not the missing member of our team with green eyes and an ass that could crack walnuts.

Carter narrowed her eyes at the little guy that was trying to crawl under his desk to get away from us and Daniel stepped forward to boot his wriggling butt. “Where’s Jonas?”

“I don’t know who you mean!” The owner of the voice managed to shuffle forwards another couple of inches before Teal’c lost patience and hauled him out by his ankles. Carter flipped the guy over and activated her zat. “Tell us where we can find him or I’m going to shoot you.”

“My God!” We all turned as another voice sounded from the door and glared at the unfamiliar man staring in horror at us. “What are you people doing?”

“We are endeavouring to locate JonasQuinn.” Teal’c did the whole ex-First Prime thing that always works so well in these circumstances. “You will tell us where to find him.”

“I will not!” The guy obviously has a death wish. “You will leave this planet immediately or I will have you taken in custody and have you removed to a holding facility.”

“You will tell us where to find him.” Teal’c takes a step forward and flexes his very impressive biceps. “You will tell us now.”

“He’s not known for his patience.” Daniel smiled apologetically over Teal’c’s brawny shoulder and nodded knowingly at the shocked man. “You’d better tell us where Jonas is.”

“Yeah.” I joined my buddies and tried to ignore my racing heart. “I’m down one geek and I don’t like it.” I watched as the poor guy took in the four of us, armed and manic, and then grinned as all the fight went out of him. Sweet.

~*~*~*

When Jonas is shoved into the conference room and then the door is slammed shut behind him he looks a little confused. He blinked at the vibrating wood for a minute and then turned to look warily around him to see what all the fuss is about. He froze as he saw the four of us lined up grinning like idiots at him and his normally smiling eyes widened with shock as he took a hasty step back and pressed himself up against the door before starting to shout for help. Huh. Well that was unexpected.

“Jonas, it’s us!” Carter hurried towards him with hands outstretched and pulled off her baseball cap as though that would make it easier for him to remember her. I roll my eyes. Geez, Carter, photographic memory there. Remember that do you?

“HEEELLLPP!” Jonas goes pale as Carter reaches him and dodges her reaching hands to make for the safety of the other side of the conference table. “Raise the alarm!”

“Sir, do something!” Carter turns to me and widens her eyes imploringly. “Help me.”

“Er, Jonas?” I raise my hands non-threateningly and try to smile at the object of my nightly fantasises for the last year or so, now currently frothing at the mouth and trying to break the leg off a chair for use as an impromptu weapon. “You okay, buddy?”

“Stay back!” Jonas gives up on his chair leg and just brandishes the whole chair at me. “You just stay back. I don’t know who you people are but you just stay the hell away from me!”

Daniel wraps his arms around himself in reaction to Jonas’ distress and rocks uncertainly on the balls of his feet. “Jack, they did something to his mind. He can’t remember us.” He bites his lip and repeats himself worriedly. “They did something to him.”

“JonasQuinn, do you not know us?” Teal’c’s voice is rough with emotion as he tries to placate the trembling Kelowran. “Do you not remember our faces?”

“Of course I know your faces.” Jonas glares at us and grips his chair tighter. “But I don’t know you. Whoever you are and whatever you want, you’d better hope Colonel O’Neill doesn’t find out you’ve been pretending to be him and his team. He really hates that.” The chair was lifted higher as Jonas stuck out his chin. “And I’m not going to tell you anything about the SGC so you better just kill me now!”

O-kaaay. Think I’m seeing the problem here. “Jonas, it’s us; the real us. You dope.” Hey, the kid maybe hot and the unknowing owner of a piece of every heart at the SGC but that doesn’t mean he can’t be an utter ass at times. “Put the goddamn chair down.” Jonas narrowed his eyes and before I could even draw breath to shout, heaved the damn chair straight at me.

“JONAS!” Carter’s shocked shout echoed through the room but thankfully Daniel and Teal’c were quicker off the mark than my 2IC and both shot around the end of the table to crash into Jonas as he turned to flee and took him to the floor.

I picked myself up from where I had flung myself to safety when Jonas had decided hurling a chair at me was the way to go and slid across the table to where Daniel and Teal’c had a wild-eyed Jonas pinned to the floor as he cursed and shouted at them.

Barely taking a moment to appreciate the picture he made all flushed and helpless on the floor, I jumped off the table and crouched down at his side. “Jonas, it’s okay.” I felt my heart clench at the look of fearful anger in his eyes and reached out to lay a hand comfortingly on his stomach. “Calm down, pal. We’re not going to hurt you; it’s us.”

“Get OFF me!” Jonas bucks and writhes against the hands holding him down and the hem of his tunic rides up just enough to flash a glimpse of pale, taut belly. “Leave me alone!” Christ, that kid has some moves. Okay, Jack, focus on calming him down and not sending him into a complete meltdown when you jump his struggling bones.

“Jonas, we’re not clones or anything.” I force my eyes from his bared stomach and back up to his face. “It’s really us. We just want to talk.” He finally stops struggling against Daniel and Teal’c and stares at me with dark suspicion. I try to smile. “C’mon kid, you know your Colonel, right?”

Apparently not, Jonas looks even more suspicious and then stares with narrowed eyes at Teal’c holding down his legs and Daniel trapping his arms. “Let me up.” His eyes dart awkwardly to focus behind him as Carter joins us and he licks his lips nervously. “I won’t fight anymore, I promise. I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

It was that pink tongue that darted out to moisten the dull rose of his lower lip that did it, I swear. Nothing else could have distracted me enough to nod at Teal’c and Daniel to release him and forget that Jonas Quinn had managed quite nicely as a member of SG1 for a year and withstood torture at the hands of Anubis all by himself without any help from his team, thank you very much. He didn’t even waste the time to draw a breath as he rolled to his feet and barrelled through Daniel and Carter in a desperate bid for the door and his freedom.

And I will deny any and all accusations that the only reason I reacted so quickly was because all I saw was the ass that had been the star of the majority of my fantasies fast disappearing into the distance. I’m a Special Forces operative, a finely honed weapon of superb cunning and skill that….Oh, who the hell am I kidding? It was the ass.

He got a hand on the door handle before I crashed into him and pinned him up against the door with a grunt of surprise. I grabbed for a flailing arm and pressed it tightly against his lower back as my other arm snaked around his throat and pulled him back against me. “Will you quit doing that!” I feel a sudden surge of blood to my groin as his ass bucks futilely against me, and mentally thwap myself around the head. Now is not the time, Jack. “Jonas, it’s really me.”

He suddenly sagged in my arms and his head tilted forward until he hit the door with a despairing thump. “Stop saying that.” The happy, confident voice I remembered is reduced to a broken whisper as the last of the fight drained out of him. “Just stop it.”

My fingers flex around his slack wrist and then I release him to turn him around and press him up against the door with my hands firmly gripping his shoulders to keep him in place. “Jonas…” I catch my breath at the utter misery in his green eyes and take one hand off his shoulder to hold his chin as he tried to turn his head away. “Why won’t you believe me?” I’m peripherally aware of the rest of the team behind me, but I can’t seem to stop myself from forgetting this is on behalf of all of us and not just between Jonas and me. “It’s me. Jack.”

I can feel the muscles under his skin work as he tried to shake his head within my grasp and the fine trembling of reaction to being trapped and scared without anyone to help him. “The Colonel wouldn’t be here. They don’t need me anymore, so you’re wasting your time.” His eyes are still defiant even as they shine with fear as he makes himself meet my probing gaze. “They aren’t coming back, they let me go.”

So this is what it’s like to feel your heart shatter. Huh. Not as much fun as they make it sound in all the books. I tighten my hold on his chin as he tries once again to free himself and lick my suddenly dry lips. “No we didn’t.” The hand left on his shoulder moves to cup the back of his neck as my voice drops to a whisper meant only to be shared by the two of us. “And we never, ever will.”

~*~*~*

“Welcome back SG1.” The familiar voice echoes through the gate room as we hit the ramp and then the entire place erupts in cheers as the people gathered there recognise the fifth figure with us. General Hammond’s face stretches in a grin and he bounds up the ramp like a man of thirty to gather the stunned Jonas in a bear hug and lift him off his feet. “Welcome home, son.”

“General?” Jonas’ eyes are bugging out in his head from a combination of shock and lack of oxygen as the General’s arms tighten around him. He stares at the grinning marines who are doing a victory dance over their discarded weapons on the floor and then up at the control room where Siler and the other techs are whooping and hollering like lunatics as they wave down to us. “What’s going on?”

“We’re happy you’re back.” Janet Frasier bats impatiently at Hammond until he drops our boy and then pulls him into a tight embrace of her own. “The whole base is going nuts.” She squeezes him one last time and then steps back to look him over with a gimlet eye. “You look thin. Have you been eating properly?” Without giving him a chance to answer she takes one of his hands in hers and begins to pull him down the ramp. “Hasn’t anyone been looking after you?”

Jonas looks back at us in confusion as he’s swamped by a hoard of marines all intent on clapping him on the back in welcome and he nearly goes down under a sea of excited jarheads. Fortunately Janet is still the most terrifying munchkin this side of the rainbow and a few sharp words has them all falling back to form a loose honour guard around them as she leads Jonas out of the room and to the Infirmary where he’s booked in for a serious over-due amount of coddling from the nurses. The last glimpse we have of him is a nervous look over his shoulder as the hollering marines and Janet sweep him away.

I turn to Carter. “Get up to the control room and lock out that damn planet’s address from the computer.” The words are barely out of my mouth before she’s nodding and running from the room like Apophis has just risen from the dead behind her. Again. “Daniel, Teal’c, take his bag down to the Infirmary and watch him. He still looks a little freaked.” They nod and head out without another word and then I turn to General Hammond. “Sir, we need to talk. Now.”

~*~*~*

When I finally make the Infirmary thirty minutes later, having only just managed to persuade the good General not to sent through a big ol’ nuke to Jonas’ former planet, it’s to see Jonas looking around him in bemusement as the nurses practically hula their way around the room as they perform their duties and the rest of my team lined up on the cot opposite him grinning so widely it’s a wonder the tops of their heads don’t fall clean off.

Janet is standing in front of Jonas waving her little pen light in his eyes and speaking in a low voice as she asks him a few questions in between urging him to eat something off the tray that’s been sent up from the commissary and placed within tempting reach. Jonas gives a ghost of his former smile as I bowl up and stand at the foot of the bed and then he jumps as Janet turns and nearly bites my head clean off. “Colonel O’Neill, a word?” She pats Jonas gently on his arm to reassure him. “You stay right here and try and eat something, okay? The nurses are right here if you need anything.” She shoots him a soft smile and then glares at my team and me. “My office. Now!” Goddamn that woman is scary.

She waits until we all shuffle through the door and then slams the door shut so hard I swear the windows nearly fall out of their frames. “What the hell has been done to him? He’s barely able to look me in the eye and he hasn’t smiled properly once since you brought him back. So help me, Jack, if you’ve done something to…”

“Hey, it wasn’t me!” I waved my hands defensively in the air and took a prudent step back in case she got any funny ideas about whipping out an extra big and blunt needle. “It was those damn freaks on that looney tunes planet of his.”

“It’s true, Janet.” Sam’s eyes were wide with upset and sincerity as she stepped in front of me. “They did something to him when he first went back and all the times we sent messages through the Stargate to him and we thought he replied, it wasn’t him. He never saw them and just thought we’d abandoned him.”

Janet blanched and then her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you know what was done to him and who did it?”

“Indeed.” Teal’c bobbed his head in that cool way he has and took over the conversation. “I spent a most instructive few minutes with the man that was JonasQuinn’s direct supervisor and he informed me that when JonasQuinn submitted to a medical evaluation upon his return to his own world the doctors who cared for him implanted a stolen alien device to confuse his memory and take knowledge of his time with us from him. The leaders on his planet were not lying when they said he was needed to further relations between the opposing nations but they were never intending to use our friend for his diplomatic skills. JonasQuinn was required for the knowledge of the many different races that have allied themselves with us and the newly united planet was biding it’s time before it started to send out it’s own travellers through their Stargate and use our knowledge to their gain.”

“Oh God,” Janet looked like she was going to throw up. “He thought we’d forgotten him?”

“They implanted false memories in his head and made him think that we’d forced him to go back there because we didn’t need him anymore.” Daniel was looking even rockier on his feet than Janet and I mentally prepared myself to catch him if he looked like he was going to topple over. “Then they made him believe we’d parted on bad terms and he couldn’t return to Earth even if he wanted too. When we showed up he thought we’d been sent by one of our enemies and that we were clones of ourselves or something. He was terrified.”

Janet stared at Daniel in silence for a moment and then turned to Teal’c. “I take it the man you spoke to is in dire need of medical attention?” Her lip curled as Teal’c nodded. “Good.”

Teal’c nodded his head again. “Indeed. Although, regrettably, not as much as I would like. When we discovered their deception we wished only to remove our friend from more harm and return him to his home.”

“Right.” Janet’s foot tapped an angry tattoo on the floor and she folded her arms as she stared into space. “Well the first thing we need to do is get that thing out of him. Sam, any ideas what exactly I’m dealing with here?”

Carter nodded and dug in her pants’ pocket and handed over the paper she had scribbled information down on whilst myself and Teal’c had stood over the doctor that had performed the procedure on Jonas in the first place. I repressed a quick shudder of fury as I pictured once again the look of betrayal on my boy’s face when he learned of what had been done to him by his own people and promised myself a collect call to my good buddy Thor the minute I had a chance. I knew an entire planet that needed a good ass kicking and fortunately I also knew the exact little grey aliens for the job.

“Okay, this should be fairly simple.” Janet’s voice brought my attention back to her and she nodded to all of us as she turned to the door. “I don’t think he’s managed to eat anything since he came back so I can prep him right away for surgery. You can wait in the Infirmary for him. Sam, I need you with me for this one.”

I grinned as she swept out with Carter hot on her heels and felt the tightness in my chest ease slightly as I watched the familiar sight of my two favourite women in the galaxy once again prepare to put it to rights. Daniel and Teal’c both looked at me and I shrugged. “Let ‘em do what they gotta do, boys. I say we go find a few things to cheer our boy up when he comes round.”

~*~*~*

It took nearly twelve hours before I got to see Jonas smile like he used to. The surgery was over pretty quickly all things considered, and almost before we knew it he’d been returned to the Infirmary and tucked up into bed with a peaceful look on his face, a thick white bandage around his head and the rest of us arranged in chairs around the cot. None of us could sleep but on the upside we all got to enjoy the feeling of once again being the saviours of the world, or our little corner of it anyway, when a steady stream of visitors dropped by to bring stuff for our lost lamb.

Everyone that came through the door was in a party mood and Janet, once more a happy camper when she’d got the memory doodad out of Jonas’ head and ground it into the floor under her foot, relaxed her normally strict rules and allowed people to come and go as they pleased as long as no one disturbed her patient. By the time Jonas began to stir he was surrounded by piles of fruit, books, Gameboys, magazines and no less than thirty-eight freshly sterilised balloons bopped about above his bed. I jumped up from my chair the minute I heard the first quiet mumble from the focus of all our attentions and reached for his arm lying slack on the blankets. “Jonas? Can you hear me?”

I held my breath as he fought to open his eyes and Janet appeared over the other side of the bed to check his vitals as he woke up. Jonas moaned again and tried to move the arm I was holding. “Hurts…”

I’d let go of him before I realised that he meant his head and not my touch on his skin. “I know, kid. You okay?”

I could hear the blood pounding in my ears as I watched him lick his dry lips and then blearily try to focus on me. “’Nel?”

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re at the SGC, Jonas. We came and got you, remember?” My hand was reaching out to brush a lock of hair from his forehead before I even realised I was doing it. “You’re back home.”

His face creased with confusion as his eyes tried to stay fixed on my face. “When did I leave?” His eyes drifted over my shoulder and got even more confused when he saw the rest of the team. “Hey, guys.”

Janet shook her head at me in warning as I opened my mouth to start yelling in panic and leaned into Jonas’ field of vision. “Hi Jonas, don’t worry about anything now, just go back to sleep and get some rest.” She patted his cheek lightly as he tried to nod and then pulled his blankets further up his chest. “We’re all right here and you’re quite safe.”

“’K.” Jonas’ eyes drifted closed and then opened again uncertainly. “I don’t understand what’s happening.” He turned his head painfully and looked at me. “Is everything okay, sir?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Jonas. Get some sleep.” I squeezed his arm again and then froze as a genuine wide, beaming Jonas Quinn smile spread across his face and he closed his eyes trustingly and slipped away again. I could hear Carter sniffle back tears behind me but couldn’t make myself move until I was sure I wouldn’t be joining her. Did I mention I was allergic to the stuff they used to clean the floor in the Infirmary? Scout’s honour.

~*~*~*

It was party time at the SGC over the next three days. Even though the team and I barely moved from the Infirmary except to shower and change we could tell the mood towards us had improved dramatically since we’d brought Jonas back. The commissary staff fell over themselves to provide all our favourite foods as we kept up our bedside vigil and even Thor dropped by to let us know that the problem with Kelowna had been taken care of and to wish Jonas well as he sat grinning around himself in his bed.

It had taken nearly a day before he was properly coherent but once he was, and the whole memory gadget thing had been sorted out, we couldn’t shut him up. He wanted to know everything that he’d missed while he’d been away and insisted on showing us all each and every gift that was laid adoringly at his feet by his SGC fan club in great, and mind-numbing, detail.

But no one cared. Everyone was happy. Scratch that, everyone was delirious. Carter was cock-a-hoop that she had her research buddy back, Daniel was like a dog with two tails that he finally had someone he couldn’t bore into a coma with one of his long-winded lectures on some ugly scribblings on a bit of old rock and Teal’c was seen to nearly crack a smile. Twice!

Janet had stayed on base to monitor her star patient personally and shamelessly neglected everyone else unless they were in mortal danger in favour of hovering over Jonas and grinning stupidly at him as he tucked into a seemingly never ending stream of delicacies supplied by the staff in the commissary. And I know for a fact that when Jonas had trouble sleeping the second night he was home and muttered something about the chow mien from his favourite take out in the heart of Colorado Springs, Lou Ferreti mobilised his entire team to go and wake the owner and persuade him that a national emergency required him to make up a bucket of the stuff at two thirty in the morning. And they just grinned when they got back to the mountain and found Jonas finally fast asleep and completely unaware that some poor Chinese guy had just had the bejesus scared out of him by four heavily armed men because an alien had a yen for some noodles.

I’d only left Jonas a handful of times since he’d come back from his surgery and only then because I didn’t want him knowing what I was up to until I was sure everything was in place for what I wanted. On the evening of the third day Janet took me aside and told me that there was no real medical reason that Jonas needed to stay under twenty four hour medical care and that she thought he might benefit from being cared for in a more comfortable environment. Like a home. Then she fixed me with the steely look in she gets when I know there’s big needles and a latex glove on the horizon and yanked me down to her eye level. “So unless you want my whole hand up your ass at your next physical and a needle alongside it that I’ve borrowed from the nearest bovine specialist, I suggest you go out there to that boy and offer him a home to go to. Got it?” She sniffed at my startled nod and released me with a shove. “Good. Now get gone, flyboy, and make him happy.”

I shot a last incredulous look over my shoulder as I left her office and then headed slowly down to Jonas’ bed where Teal’c and Daniel were playing a quiet game of chess while Sam and Jonas were going into raptures of some shiny bit of metal that Jacob had sent through the gate that morning. I took a moment to watch them as they sat so close together, sending a small prayer of thanks on its way that we were all finally back together again, and then clapped my hands together lightly. “Okay, campers, that’s it for now. I need to speak to Jonas and you all need to go and pretend that you actually do some work around this joint.” I started flapping my hands at their unwilling faces. “Scoot, scoot!”

I pretended not to see the flicker of worry on Jonas’ face as he watched the team mooch reluctantly from the room and I caught hold of the curtain hanging at the head of the bed to draw it around us and create the illusion of privacy. I opted to perch on the side of his bed rather than sit down on one of the abandoned chairs and folded my arms across my chest to grin at him reassuringly. After a slight hesitation he smiled back. “Okay there, Jonas?”

“Yes, I’m very well thank you, Colonel.” His eyes lost some of their happy glow as he waited for me to say something else and he started to chew on his bottom lip unconsciously. Meanwhile, I made a conscious effort not to lean forward and join him in the feast with my own mouth. First things first, Jack.

“Don’t look so worried, I just need to run something past you.” I unfolded my arms and allowed myself the small pleasure of patting his arm soothingly. “The Doc says you can be released tomorrow. Start getting around a bit.” A lump formed in my throat as the happy light came back on in his eyes and he stopped chewing at his lip to smile at me in delight. “Nothing too exhausting, but you can at least start wearing pants again.”

“Can I have my old room back?” All worries forgotten, Jonas leaned forward and clutched at my arm in excitement. “Or if someone else has it, can I get a new one? Maybe near mine and Daniel’s office. He says that…”

I held up a hand to silence him and grinned as he obediently shut up. “That’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. You remember that the rest of us live off base, right? Even Teal’c bunks with Daniel now.” Some of the light died in Jonas’ eyes and he nodded warily. “And none of us really want to leave you here on your own. We’ve all talked about it and it might look kind of funny if you shacked up with Carter and there’s only two bedrooms at Daniel and Teal’c’s place so I thought when you got out of here tomorrow you might want to come home with me. If you want.”

Well, whatever he wasn’t expecting me to say, it certainly wasn’t that. His eyes look like saucers in his face and his mouth his hanging so far open that I can see the cap he had to have when a Jaffa knocked half his tooth away in a skirmish last year. “Jonas, you okay?” I can’t resist leaning forward and touching a finger to his chin to gently close his mouth. “Take your time, kid.”

“You want me to come home with you. To your house?” Looking like he’s committing the worst kind of blasphemy even saying the words, Jonas shrinks back against his pillows and clutches nervously at the blanket covering his legs. “And </i>stay</i> there?”

“No, live there.” Despite my anxiously churning nerves, I manage to find some amusement in his reaction. If I’d suggested he should give General Hammond’s head a spit and polish he couldn’t look more horrified. “With me. I’ve had a couple of airmen run over and fix up the old guest room with some of your stuff you left behind when you went away last time and I thought when you’re feeling stronger we could go out and you could choose some stuff that you liked for yourself. New curtains, bedspread, that sort of thing.” I deliberately omit the mention of furniture, hoping that by the time he wants to start re-decorating we’ll be sharing the one room and shopping for double wardrobes and a queen-sized bed instead. “It’ll be nice. Cosy.”

“Cosy?” Jonas blinked at me. “In your house?”

“No, Jonas, in our house. That we’ll share. A home.” I force myself to be patient with him and remind myself that he’s been sick and completely unaware that his crusty commanding officer is boots over ass in love with him. “We could even get some fish.”

For some reason he looks even more alarmed. “I don’t want to go fishing!”

Oh cripes, this is going so very badly. “I don’t mean to catch, Jonas.” I sigh and try to hang onto my reassuring expression. “I mean for you to look at. Y’know, take care of.”

“Oh.” He blinks at me again. “In your house?” I restrain myself, barely, from slapping him upside the head and nod as he tilts his head to one side in consideration and darts his eyes up at the sea of floating foil above his bed. “Can I bring my balloons?”

~*~*~*

And I must say the move went very well. Hammond gave the whole team a week’s downtime and the moment Janet signed off the release papers for him we packed up all his stuff and hustled him out of the mountain. It took three times as long as usual as everyone we met wanted to speak to Jonas and tell him how happy they were he was home, but eventually all of SG1 and Janet made it to the surface and split up into our separate cars to head for my house. I took Jonas, and the lead, in my Jeep and Daniel and Teal’c came behind me with Carter and Janet behind them. We’d arranged to have Jonas’ balloons dropped off later in the day in a base truck as no one wanted to risk driving the fifteen miles to my house trying to peer through a foil crowded car.

Jonas was pretty quiet as we drove away from the base and I kept a covert eye on him, slightly worried that his colour had drained leaving him pale and fragile looking as we made our way down the mountain road. His head was lolling against the passenger window before we hit the public road and I pulled over and waved down Janet when I realised that he was unconscious. She looked him over and assured me that it was just the excitement of leaving the base and some residual effects of his stressful few days and the best thing we could do would be to let him sleep as much as he could. Daniel dug out a blanket from his trunk and I carefully wrapped it around my dozing passenger before we all took off again, eager to get him home and into bed as quickly as I could. In a non-biblical sense, of course.

When Jonas woke up an hour later we had to deal with a brief moment of panic when he freaked at waking up in a strange room but then he settled quite happily into his new home and enjoyed a happy afternoon surfing the weather channels and making a list with Daniel of all the places on the planet with the most extreme weather so they could visit. Geeks.

The guys started trickling away at early evening time and left me alone with Jonas for the first time in over six months. I found myself hovering outside his room nervously for nearly half an hour before I plucked up the courage to go in and found him cuddled up under the comforter sound asleep and clutching the book of famous paintings that Carter had presented him with that afternoon. I crossed to the side of the bed and looked down on him, face relaxed and his skin slightly flushed with sleep and wondered once again just when I’d managed to fall in love with this kid that you can’t shut up half the time and can be even more annoying than Daniel and Carter combined when he’s on a roll.

I mean, let’s face it, it certainly wasn’t love at first sight. Okay, being honest here, I hated his guts. Come on, the guy was at least part way responsible for the ‘death’ of my best friend, that’s not something you can just overlook. But then he started to grow on me. He certainly took orders better than Daniel ever did and he also had the kind of gung-ho spirit that really helped to keep you alive when you were a member of the SGC’s most active team. He got on with everyone, and I mean everyone, and pretty soon it seemed ludicrous that I’d ever tried to get through my days without a grinning alien going into raptures over whatever he was experiencing for the first time at that particular moment.

I don’t know when I realised that I was in love with him, it’s not like I have a lot of spare time to moon over my love interests what with constantly saving the galaxy and all, but I do know that despite my happiness at Daniel returning home I was almost crippled with misery when Jonas announced he was going back to his home planet. I stood in the gate room as he headed up the ramp and wanted nothing else than to grab him and kiss him breathless and never, ever, let him go. But I didn’t. I stood there with a damn fool grin pasted on my face and watched what might have been my last chance of happiness step through the Stargate and put light years between us. And I think we all know how well that worked out.

But now he’s back and he’s safely where I can keep an eye on him. His hair’s getting a little crusty under his bandage from his op because Janet says he has to wait at least another couple of days to shower properly and he’s still a little on the skinny side, but he’s recognisably my Jonas. And this time I’m keeping him. I reach down and gently pull the heavy art book from under his folded arms and then carefully smooth out his blankets over him before backing away from the bed and snapping out the bedside lamp. Yep, he’s back and no matter what happens between us at least I can go to my grave with the satisfaction that he’s where he belongs.

And the satisfaction that they’ll finally give me something besides bananas and ice cream for my dessert in the commissary. God, I’ve missed jello.

~*~*~*

End Part 1.

FIC: Xander Does Demons...Or Not. (1/1) SLASH, R

Tue, 17 Jan 2006 09:56:51 GMT

Title: Xander Does Demons…Or Not. (1/1)
Author:msgordo
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, not a one.
Category: Slash, Humour
Synopsis: It all goes horribly wrong. As usual.
A/N: Apologies for the shortness and the crapness, Mel. I’m stuck in an SGA place and couldn’t get from the Pegasus Galaxy to the Hellmouth in time to capture a sufficiently compliant muse.
Dedications: Mel and Tammy; thanks for perpetuating the S/X love, guys!

~*~*~*

“Well this was a bright idea.” Xander Harris, naked except for his rakish leather eye patch, squirmed uncomfortably on the floor of the forest he was currently held captive in and scowled at his equally naked companion.

Spike, also naked, squirmed in his own rope bonds and scowled back, silently.

“Seriously, I can’t think of a better way to lull the bad guys into a false sense of security than to let them laugh themselves unconscious.” Xander shivered as a particularly chilly breeze whistled around some very delicate areas and moaned plaintively, “Shouldn’t we have been rescued by now? We did our bit, didn’t we? Okay, not well, but the infiltrating of the demon camp and gathering of information is so a done deal.”

Spike glared, flip-flopped awkwardly as he tried to turn over with his hands bound behind him and then grunted with triumph as he managed to achieve his goal and presented Xander with a view of his rigid back.

“Oh well that’s just fine.” Xander rolled his eye at Spike’s uncaring and unseeing body, whining, “I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this!”

Spike stiffened in indignation and it looked like he would turn back over for a moment, but he settled instead for drawing his knees up nearer his belly and shivering in a pointed manner.

“It’s not like you mentioned I’d have to fellate the head honcho!” Feeling pretty damn indignant himself, Xander stretched out a foot and planted it squarely on Spike’s butt, giving him a hefty shove and taking a spiteful satisfaction in the annoyed hiss and muffled swearing when Spike pitched face forward in a pile of mouldy leaves. “Not even a ‘Xan, pet, chances are you’ll ‘ave to give the big ugly bugger a bit of a suck before he let’s us nip in an’ grab the important-saving-the-world-thing.’, you bastard!”

Spike lifted his face out of the leaves, spat one out of his mouth and snarled at the incessant whining behind him as he squirmed further away from Xander and his incredibly cold foot.

“I mean, you could have brought it up these particular demons have two dicks.” Xander shifted as a sharp twig poked into his buttock, muttering darkly, “Anyone would have freaked and called him a mutant when they saw two woodies pointing at them.” He scowled petulantly. “And the screaming like a woman and running in panic into a tree was totally understandable.”

Spike managed to convey with a single disgusted grunt, that if Xander was too bone idle to adequately research his intended prey before going out hunting them than he was even stupider than Spike had previously taken him for, a feat that he, Spike, had up till now assumed was completely impossible.

It was a good grunt. Had a lot of layers. Nuances.

“Do I look like my jaw unhinges?!” Xander cried. “One of those things would have been a stretch, two would have killed me!”

Spike grunted again, this time insinuating that the killing of Xander might have caused him some regret. One day. When he wasn’t naked and bound on a cold forest floor.

He was really working those nuances.

Xander sighed and considered the vampire morosely. “Hey, Spike?” He wriggled closer and pressed his cold front against Spike’s cold back, pushing his soft, unhappy cock into the vampire’s curled hands. “Wanna blow job?”

If Spike hadn’t been frozen solid, his heart would have melted at the penitent offer. As it was, he nodded, patted Xander’s crotch and said magnanimously, “Sixty-nine it?”

Xander grinned, kissed the back of Spike’s neck and then pulled back to scoot round and get himself in position. “You got it.” He beamed happily at the wonderfully normal genitalia that met his eye when Spike also rolled over and leaned forward to press an affectionate kiss to the tip. “Brightest idea ever.”

~*~*~*

The End.