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Sat, Mar. 11th, 2006, 03:13 pm
flickerswitch:

Title: Foothold
Author: flickerswitch
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay (McShep)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: These guys aren’t mine I’m afraid to say :o(
Feedback: Always very much appreciated.
Summary: Things are not what they seem to on Atlantis...or are they? Written for Valentines day but it doesn't make too much difference.
Comments: A brief cameo from Doctor Weir but not really enough to include her on the cast list ;o) Beta, make yourself known and get your credit!




John Sheppard crouched just behind the corner and, closing his eyes, took a deep breath, fingers tightening on his P.90. The sound of a small group of people walking down the next corridor and chatting easily echoed back to the Major’s ears. He froze.

With every sense screaming and alert he drew in his breath and held it. ‘Don’t turn the corner you bastards, don’t you dare,’ he thought, clenching his teeth. He was so close, literally feet away from where the only other person in Atlantis still in control of his own body was imprisoned; he couldn’t get caught now, or it was all over.

The voices and footsteps drew closer, John’s keen ears picked out each sound, processed them and ended in a military precise conclusion: two targets, male, medium build, guard down. He could take them if he needed to.

Nearer still. A bead of sweat crawled down the side of John’s face; every nerve in his body was buzzing, adrenaline pumped through his system and the sound of his own heartbeat thundered in his ears. He didn’t want to take out his own men, because despite everything, that was still who they were, but he would if he had to.

They could be no closer now without turning and finding him, or passing him by, oblivious. He got ready to spring, his pulse thundering. The moment seemed to slow down, the tension hung heavy in the air, it stretched and stretched and stretched and then…

John breathed a sigh of relief and allowed himself to relax as they passed by and continued down the adjoined corridor. Waiting until the sounds had died away he forced himself to count to fifty. Ordinarily it would be to one hundred but he was working with a time limit; it could only be so long until someone passed down this corridor again. He knew he’d already been lucky. Too lucky.

Forty-eight…

Forty-nine…

Fifty.

Cautiously he peered out around the corner and tensed himself to move. He stiffened. Were his ears and his nerves making him hear things or had he just heard the slight far away sound of a door opening. Another patrol. Already.

He made a split second decision and launched himself out across the corridor, landing with his shoulder sloped and rolling easily to his knees directly outside the door to Rodney’s quarters. He couldn’t chance waiting; the odds of remaining undiscovered were against him.

The doors slid open and he hastily scrambled inside, sitting on his haunches and bringing his back up to the door as it closed. He swept the room with his gun. Nothing.

He rose to his feet slowly and locked the door before making a swift exploration of Rodney’s rooms. Still nothing. Only then did he allow himself to turn to the figure sat on the chair in the very centre of the room.

Rodney had been silent, but maybe that was because he was gagged. He hadn’t even moved, but that might have had something to do with the way he was tied to the chair. John, however, removed the blindfold first.

Rodney’s eyes lit up as John’s face came into view and he mumbled through the gag. That was the next thing to go, carefully, so as not to dislodge the radio-mic.

“You took your time,” he hissed, “anything could’ve happened to me!”

John unclipped the knife that was a regular feature on the belt of his uniform. “Hey, I got here as quick as I could, I just ran into a few minor… complications.”

Rodney froze, “Complications? What do you mean, complications? You didn’t have to hurt anybody did you?”

“No,” John moved to slice off Rodney’s bonds, “I nearly had to neutralise Grodin though.” He paused, knife poised. “Wait a second, how do I know you’re really McKay?”

“What?” Rodney spat, “Of course it’s me! Now get me out of this chair, we’re wasting time!”

John lowered the knife, “I can’t do that Rodney, I’m sorry.”

Rodney couldn’t believe his ears, “So you’re just gonna leave me here?!”

John shook his head, “I can’t do that either.”

Rodney looked momentarily confused, “So?”

“So prove it to me.”

“Untie me first,” Rodney bargained.

“Prove it and then I’ll untie you.”

Rodney scowled. “And just how do you expect me to do that?”

John thought for a moment, racking his brains to think of something that would identify, beyond a doubt, that the man in front of him was McKay. He picked the blindfold back up.

“Hey!” Rodney squawked as his vision was obscured once more, “What’re you-” something brushed against his crotch and the grinding sound of a BDU zipper being dragged down marked an end to his sentence. “Oh, I see,” he finished lamely.

He was already half hard, the mixture of danger, bondage and the risk of being discovered turning him on like crazy. Warm fingers pushed inside of his pants and took hold of him, gently rubbing and coaxing him to full arousal. Not being able to see what John was doing made it all the sexier for him.

“Wait,” he stammered, “how do I know you’re John and not just someone, err, ‘pumping me for information’?”

“You want me to stop?” The tingling friction being applied to Rodney’s dick stopped abruptly.

“Ok, I believe you,” Rodney pleaded meekly, “you just, erm, keep going with that…line of investigation.”

There was a moment of pregnant silence in which Rodney strained his ears for a clue as to what would happen next. A hot tongue found the base of his erection and licked a sizzling trail up to the head where it curled, flickered cheekily and broke contact.

Rodney let his head fall back, a tiny whimper escaping from between his lips, which escalated to a full-scale moan as John’s mouth enveloped him and sucked hard.

John only had half his mind on the job in hand. Or mouth as it were. He was listening hard for a particular characteristic that could only ever be chalked up to Rodney McKay.

“Radon… Xenon... Krypton…”

No one else recited the elements backwards in the heat of the moment, starting with gases…

“Iodine.Bohrium.Chlorine.Sulphur-”

Moving onto the non-metals…

“ASTATINE!POLONIUM!BISMUTH!TELLURIUM!ANTIMONY!”

And then the metalloids. John had no idea what came after metalloids; Rodney had never made it past that particular group of the periodic table.

At that moment the radio crackled and John felt Rodney jerk violently under him.

“Rodney?” It was Wier. “Report to the control room, we need you right away. …Rodney?”

“I’m coming Elizabeth!” Rodney all but howled and John nearly choked with laughter as the scientist promptly came hard in his mouth, arching and straining against the cords tying him to the chair.

Spent, Rodney slumped back in his seat, panting, as John sat back and straightened his uniform.

“Well that was fun,” he commented dryly, “You believe me now then?”

“Well I suppose I’ll just have to. I don’t think you were wise in trusting me though.” Quickly he sliced through the rope binding Rodney’s wrists and ankles.

“Oh?” Rodney pulled off the blindfold and gave his extremities a quick rub before getting up and fastening his BDUs. “You’re suggesting I should have conducted a more thorough investigation?”

John nodded, “Definitely.”

Rodney shrugged, “I’ll do it later, right now, duty calls I’m afraid.”

“Okies,” John gave Rodney a quick pat on the backside, “Go see what Wier wants.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against Rodney’s. “Happy Valentines Day.”