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icarusThis story has been driving me crazy. So you guys get a preview while I work out the bugs. Thank you to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stellahobbit for her (long ago) beta review.
Yes. I wrote Het. Worse yet, I'm editing in public again (I know, I should be ashamed of myself).
Dissymetry Of Lift or
Big Sky Theory (still working on that title; opinions welcome)
A creamy smooth leg slid up John's side, calf skimming down his ass and the back of his thigh. Not a lot of women in the Pegasus galaxy shaved, so yeah, this was nice. Even if on this planet it meant she was shaved everywhere else.
He cupped delicate shoulders, lips parted as he surged forward again, eyes closing in bliss at her tightness and the silky warmth around him. She arched, her breasts flattening, a moan caught deep in her throat, whispering something in a language he didn't know though he understood what she meant pretty damn clearly.
They'd gone to breakfast the next morning, separating as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She'd pressed her necklace into the palm of his hand and her lips brushed his as she leaned forward, "Take a part of me with you to the Ancestors," squeezing the hard edges of the chain almost painfully into his skin.
John wondered what women saw in him when he touched Ancient "magic" and lit up the walls of long-dead machines. But then again, Rodney could do the same thing and they didn't….
"Nice of you to join us, Major," Rodney's sarcastic voice had snapped behind him, tone dripping with the knowledge of just where John had spent the night. "Sleep well?" Teyla, next to Rodney, had cleared her throat politely while Ford had just grinned, impressed.
It wasn't fair of Rodney to put him in the position of either lying or bragging, but John had smirked. And went for option number two. It had served Rodney right.
"Long night," he'd breathed, deliberately lascivious, and got a gratifying huff of frustration, Rodney folding his arms, mouth tipped downward in an envious frown. John had rubbed it in just a little bit more, patting his shoulder as he brushed by to the breakfast hall. "Two words for you, McKay: Playboy. Bunny."
Rodney had spluttered, "Oh, that's just…."
"Oh man, Major," Ford had laughed.
Teyla had tipped her head in annoyed confusion at John, probably detecting a male joke. "That is three words."
"—are you in, Colonel Sheppard?" the Marine across the table interrupted John's reverie. The cards had already been dealt and John had a pretty good hand. He toyed with the delicate chain.
"Sorry," John said, running the chain through his fingers again, thinking.
He'd hoped to go back - it had been a great mission for a lot of reasons, peaceful world, friendly natives - but kinda knew that he wouldn't. Now it had been almost a year. He wasn't sure of his reception anyway. There was a good chance that these women wanted someone outside their own society and rules, and his return would ruin the fantasy. That had happened to him once before. Still, he usually held on to the trinkets they gave him.
What was her name? Key-la? Quianna-?
The chain made a delicate hiss as it slid against the coins in the pot. "I'm in," John said with a sigh. He could probably win it back.
Halling had built a pleasant cabin on the mainland. Small, solid and comfortable, with handmade wooden furniture and baskets, and bedrolls that were softer than the air mattresses John, Rodney, and the two Marines had excavated from the damaged jumper. If you had to get stranded for a night John couldn't think of a nicer place. Ronon sat cross-legged on the floor, disinterested in poker, while Teyla was off staying with relatives.
The Marine, Levitt, pulled a gold serpentine chain from around his neck, hands slow and reluctant as he added it to the pot.
"You don't have to give up your 'bling,' Levitt," John teased him with a lazy, airy gesture. He leaned back in the chair. Halling himself watched their game with his chin on crossed arms over the back of his chair and a look of bemusement. Though he'd demurred, saying he didn't gamble. "You could always just fold."
His smile was bright in a dark face as he dropped it into the pot. "No, Sir. You got nothin'."
"Oh, I might surprise you."
Rodney snorted where he sat perched on a windowsill, sitting on his hands. He'd folded long ago. "C'mon, Colonel. Even Halling here can tell you're bluffing."
There was a bellowing whoop of complaints and laughter as John finally turned over his cards. A royal flush. John swept the pile eagerly to his chest.
"I take it this means you've won," Halling observed, soft-voiced, his eyes bright.
"And how," Rodney agreed, nodding.
The serpentine chain nearly slid to the floor and John snagged it, noticing a momentary stricken look on Levitt's face as it dangled in his hands. "I think I've won enough from you – here." He held up the glittering thing.
"Nah, take it." Levitt tried to brush away the gesture.
John wrinkled his nose at the man. "I don't really go for the rapper look. Never been able to pull it off." He threw the chain, and Levitt caught it, carefully stringing it through his fingers. "Owe me a favor instead," he insisted.
"Thank you, Sir."
"No, thank you," John said, examining his haul. "What do I have here? Rodney's multi-tool – thanks, Rodney – some Athosian scented oils… a nice iPod. Halling," John turned to their host, nodding sagely, "This should teach them all a lesson: Never gamble." Halling slapped his knee and laughed.
~*~*~
The wormhole engaged, flashing a brilliant watery blue, and Lorne's team stepped through with the usual dazed look of men whose molecules had just been reassembled. They were back a day early from a fairly routine trading mission to the Manthosian mines. Major Lorne's specialty was mining (and explosives, but that went without saying). The first words out of his mouth were sharp and didn't answer the gateroom crew's cheerful "welcome back."
"Colonel Sheppard here?" Lorne pulled off a pair of gloves and stuffed them in a pocket.
"No, Sir, he's at the Athosian settlement," a tech answered.
"Oh, great. He's gonna wish he was," Lorne said cryptically, puffing his cheeks with a sigh, hands on his hips. He snorted and took the steps down from the gate platform. "Looks like I'll have to talk to Dr. Weir first." He turned to his men and stabbed a finger at them. "You, you, and you -- not one word." Then he shook his head as he made his way up the sweep of stairs to Dr. Weir's office. " He's not going be happy."
Weir had already appeared and was frowning at him, her face interested and concerned.
"Dr. Weir," Lorne said in his gravelly voice before he'd even reached her, taking the steps two at a time. "We've run into something of a diplomatic issue on Manthos." A quick look over his shoulder. "Can we talk in private?"
She nodded, pursing her lips cautiously. As the door shut behind him, Lorne's voice carried, "Colonel Sheppard was part of the first contact team, wasn't he?"
~*~*~
Colonel Sheppard's team milled around the conference room in the impatient quiet before an early meeting. A half-empty coffee pot burbled in the corner. Rodney warmed his hands on his mug, set it down to flip open his laptop, while Teyla stretched her arms over her head then let them fall with a sigh. With professional dignity Elizabeth straightened a file folder and pulled her chair closer, clearing her throat. The door opened a little late as Ronon stepped in, mopping his head with a towel.
"Where's the colonel?" Elizabeth glanced around the conference room.
"Late," Ronon said tersely with a small feral smile. "He went jogging with me. Said he stinks."
"And you clearly didn't shower. Fine -- you can sit over on that side of the table," McKay announced, pointing to the far end away from himself.
"Okay." Elizabeth deftly interrupted, glancing at her watch. "We should probably wait for the colonel but I've a question for you all." She raised her eyebrows. "A trade agreement for one of our mining operations has been stymied because a woman claims," Elizabeth emphasized the word with a doubtful tip of her head, "that Colonel Sheppard is the father of her child. Now I realize this may be a little bit surprising, but you were the first contact team and I hope you can to shed some light on what's going on."
She'd expected a moment of stunned silence. But Rodney started chuckling, building up slowly to a full laugh. "Oh, we never saw that one coming." He made a flippant gesture. "This was simply a matter of odds."
Elizabeth glanced from one member of the team to the other. Teyla glanced away, while Ronon met her gaze with a flat stare.
"Teyla?" Elizabeth prompted, with a raised eyebrow.
She took a breath and said with careful politeness, "The women on many worlds find Colonel Sheppard… very attractive."
"Oh, you can say that again," Rodney snorted gleefully. "Doomed, Sheppard is so doomed…" He framed a square in the air with his hands. "Patrimony suits and dirty diapers, I can see it now."
"And he--?" Elizabeth began before stopping herself. "I was going to ask why you thought this woman would make such a claim, what they could possibly hope to gain, but if it's true….?"
"It's true," Rodney said. "It's so absolutely true."
Teyla tipped her head, acknowledging with a wince, "There is a strong possibility."
Elizabeth glanced from one to the other and swallowed, adjusting the file folder in front of her. "I'm… well, I'm surprised. I wouldn't have brought this up if I thought for a minute--" She shook her head, touching her hand to her temple. "His behavior in Atlantis has been, maybe I wouldn't use the word 'exemplary,' but there's nothing that would lend credence--"
"Colonel Sheppard doesn't shit where he eats." Rodney folded his arms.
"I haven't even told you which planet this is," she pointed out, slightly irritated.
"Doesn't matter." Rodney waved a hand, brushing it aside as immaterial. "It could be anywhere."
Even Teyla didn't argue, while Ronon remained impassive. Which from him was answer enough.
"How many--?" Elizabeth asked, before stopping herself again. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
The door to the conference room popped open. "Sorry I'm late," John said jauntily, his hair spiky and wet. He pulled out a chair. Then paused, poised over it as he glanced around the room and all eyes turned towards him. An uncertain smile played around the corners of his mouth, confusion and amusement flickering across his face. "What?"
Elizabeth looked at the floor and chewed her lip. Then said in a controlled, though probably tense voice, "This meeting is adjourned for now. Colonel Sheppard, may I have a word?" She added with an almost-sweet smile, "In private?"
"I wasn't that late," John blinked, standing.
As the team filtered out, eyebrows raised and trading meaningful glances, Rodney hooked a thumb over his shoulder and said to Ronon, "Two months ago, I was jealous. But now? I wouldn't be in Sheppard's shoes for the galaxy."
~*~*~
The atmosphere on Atlantis was jovial and alive with rumor, soft laughter in the halls and impromptu coffee break conferences over Ancient equipment. After being together over two years, the Atlantis crew was worse than most Air Force bases. It was a terrible thing when soldiers knew their commander well enough to understand which orders they had to follow and which ones he only wished they would, and unfortunately, Major Lorne's team was well past that point.
Outside the infirmary, Dr. Beckett was cautious; he raised a forestalling hand to one of his nurses. "For my part, I would have to see the DNA evidence. Though I will admit, in a population of redheads, a dark-haired child suggests some outside genetic material as dark hair is most certainly not a recessive trait…."
Low male laughter boomed from the mess hall as a group of soldiers ceased to even pretend to work, taking lunch instead. Routine diagnostics took twice as long and four times as many people as usual. Meanwhile, gateroom staff on duty the night Lorne's team returned were in high demand, called on to describe the look on Lorne's face over and over again.
In the Science department, Rodney's sharp voice finally rose above the buzzing murmur. He stood on a chair and clapped his hands several times.
"Yes, I'm sure Colonel Sheppard's sex life is endlessly fascinating," he griped, "but I expect some work done around here, people! Unless you have all finished translating the entire Ancient database, in which case, congratulations."
Yet even he was pulled aside for a quick whispered discussion with Zelenka that left the Czech sniggering behind his hand. As Rodney turned back to his computer, he said confidently, "Bound to happen. It was bound to happen…." Which ignited the discussion in the labs once again.
A tall, bearded Athosian stopped Teyla in the hall outside her quarters, "I do not understand. Is not the birth of a child a joyous occasion? The sign of a fruitful union? Why is this a source of such amusement?"
"Their marriage customs are somewhat different than ours," Teyla answered after a moment's hesitation. "Their betrothal must occur before there is a child, not after the success of the union is proved."
"Oh," the Athosian said. "Then Colonel Sheppard was not seeking a mate? Because he has acted as a man very interested in finding a woman, and certainly he has achieved a status where it is his right. I had considered offering my daughter, in fact, but I worried about the dowry…."
"They have no dowry system."
"Ah." The Athosian blinked. "Perhaps then I should have." He chuckled and gave a self-effacing shrug. "Too late now."
~*~*~
"But is it possible?"
John paced Elizabeth's office, running a hand up the back of his head. "It's really not likely."
"Is it possible?" she pressed. John paused and didn't answer. "Your team seems to think so."
"My team?" A look of betrayal crossed John's face, but then he relaxed with a snort and a lazy smile. "Oh. Yeah, well, McKay's just jealous. Frankly, between you and me, from what Cadman's told me, a date with a McKay is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And not in a good way."
But Elizabeth just raised her chin a little, putting on that not-very-effective tough gal act she had. Her eyes glittered and were unwavering though, and she'd clearly seen through his attempt at distraction.
"I'm going to send Lorne's team to collect blood samples for a DNA test," she said simply.
"You don't trust me?" John asked, incredulous.
"I do, that's why I'm asking, John!" she said. "But you're not answering me."
John let his hands drop and sank to a chair. He slumped, leaning on his elbow, thinking hard.
"It's possible," he admitted with a loose gesture. "I dunno. I don't remember anything about Manthos to tell you the truth. It was a year ago and I was a little more concerned about the Wraith."
Elizabeth sighed. "Thank you." The tension eased from her shoulders. Sometimes John thought she mediated conflict just because she hated it in all forms.
"I'm sending Lorne at any rate. Don't worry. We're not going to just take these people at their word," she assured him.
"I appreciate that."
A heavy silence hung in the air, like they weren't done yet.
"We need the Manthosians," she began, with that warning breath which told him she was building up to something else he wasn't going to like. "They have naquada that's almost completely unmined. It's good that we have a supply line to Earth now, but that's too fragile and we can't count on it. Atlantis has to be independent. We can't afford to forget what we learned our first year."
"Yeah, I think I read that memo. In fact, I seem to recall it was my idea," John pointed out.
"Yes, and it's a good one," she gave him a business-like smile. "So now we're dealing with many different cultures whose mores might not resemble our own, John. And I think you see where I'm headed with this."
"They're adult women. I'm sure they know what they're doing," John said patiently.
"They may misinterpret things based upon cultural differences. I need you to act in a mature fashion, taking this into consideration."
"Christ!" John rolled his eyes. "Elizabeth, half the men on this base have something going on off-world," he said with disgust, pointing at the door. "Bates -- do you seriously think he resigned from head of security for some boring supply run for no reason? He's got that hot little Polynesian number on M4A-249."
"He does." Elizabeth's voice was faint.
A look of doubt crossed John's face. He licked his lips. "Um, yeah. Don't tell him I told you that."
Elizabeth pinched her brow as if pushing away a headache. "We can discuss the lack of discipline in your troops another time," she said meaningfully, and whoa, that turnabout caught him off guard. He pitied whoever had to negotiate with her because he suddenly felt about an inch high. "The fact is, you're the military head of Atlantis. You have to set an example—"
"—for my men," John finished. "You know, you and Caldwell should set up a synchronized swim team."
"—and I need you to tell me what other treaties may be at risk as a result of your actions." Her eyes narrowed at him.
He looked at her blankly, not quite decoding the diplomacy-speak on that one. And then he figured it out. He almost laughed in her face. "You what?"
"A list. Just the planet designations; you don't have to give me any names."
"No, I don't have to give you anything," he spluttered, torn between laughter and shock. "I don't think the president could ask that."
"John," she said. "We may have to renegotiate with Manthos because of you. I don't want any more surprises." Her voice turned urgent as she leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. "What if a critical supply-line is threatened when we're under attack from the Wraith? Are you willing to put your pride ahead of the safety of the city?"
John swept his jacket from the back of his chair and stood, stuffing his arms in his sleeves. "We're done here."
As the stained glass door slid shut behind him, Elizabeth stared after Sheppard grimly. The set of his shoulders was angry and defiant, and he strode through the gateroom staff, head down, not looking at anyone. The gate crew cast him a few surreptitious glances.
"No, I didn't think you'd tell me," she murmured to herself.
Then tapped her radio.
"Charlie? Please find Major Lorne and ask him to see me at his earliest convenience."
~*~*~
Manthos. Mining.
John adjusted the weights on the bar, spinning the wing nuts tight. He added just enough to make it look like he was serious, but not so much that he had to pay a huge amount of attention. The sudden silence in the weight room let him know exactly who was the topic of conversation today, and John flashed back to the weeks after his black mark in Afghanistan.
He lay back on the bench and grit his teeth, over more than just the weight, and started his reps.
Trouble was, he couldn't answer Elizabeth's question even if he wanted to. Someplace with mines….
There had been one girl on a planet with a bunch of caves. She'd been shoveling rocks and explained how they lived, swiping dirty blond hair from her face, which was pink and shiny with sweat.
"So all you do is shovel coal and hide from the Wraith?" he'd asked. He couldn't imagine a life where you never got to see the sky.
She'd sparkled up at him mischievously. "Hardly."
"Then, what do you do? Play charades?" he'd asked with a cautious smile. He'd gotten it even at the words left his mouth, and blushed, looking at the ground. "Oh. Right."
She'd grinned at him and put away the pickax, wiping her hands on her coveralls. And offered him a tour.
"What is charades?" she'd asked as John skipped ahead, walking backwards. Not showing off, oh no, not at all.
But they hadn't had naquada there, just low-grade coal. And a population that was dying of black lung. Carson had told them the solution: stop living in the mines. But that wasn't really an option.
She'd wakened him in the middle of the night with a wracking cough. Her room was in a cave, her bed draped against the draughts. He'd reached through the curtains into cool air and lit the lantern, then held her and rubbed her back all the way through it, feeling alone and useless.
~*~*~
"It's confirmed," Dr. Beckett said with a quick sympathetic glance at John.
Elizabeth had asked who John wanted present at this meeting, and had gotten a cynical, "Who cares? The whole damned city already knows." She heard the unspoken and Caldwell will have my ass in that and kept it to just Beckett and Teyla.
"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked, unnecessarily.
John was expressionless, his arms folded as he tipped back in his chair. He might as well have been wearing his sunglasses for all that he revealed.
"This is no deep DNA strand examination like we use to detect the ATA gene," the doctor explained. "It is a simple blood-test, and quite clear. Even more so than it would be on earth, given the differences between humans in the Pegasus galaxy and our own planet; there is ten thousand years of genetic drift." He raised his eyebrows at John. "Under normal circumstances, congratulations would be in order."
Elizabeth wasn't sure if Carson was kidding or not. John took a visible breath, looking up, tense and defensive.
"But I don't think we'll be doing that," Carson ended lamely. Elizabeth was sure she detected a twinkle in his eye, but he hid it well with a rueful tip of his head.
She glanced at Teyla, who folded her hands in a graceful gesture. "On most worlds, a child is welcomed under any circumstances. Our numbers dwindle due to the Wraith."
John spoke, nodding cautiously, "That makes sense." One foot rocked the chair back on two legs.
"Though I am not familiar with Manthos -- my people have had little need of their weapons and metals -- I believe it unlikely they are truly angry with Colonel Sheppard. No doubt they are merely using this to their advantage."
"That was my first thought," Elizabeth said with a wry twist of her lips.
"They will probably insist that Colonel Sheppard join their tribe." She gave them a small apologetic smile. "A baby is valuable, but a full-grown warrior is even more so."
"Yeah, see, I'm kinda booked this week, what with paperwork, that lost box of Ho-Hos people keep complaining about, and then there's the little task of defending against the Wraith," John said, letting the chair tip back onto all four legs.
"It will be their opening offer. But I will do what I can." Teyla smiled at him, dipping her head in a nod. "Is there anything you can tell us about your," she sought for a word carefully, eyes scanning the ceiling, "girlfriend, that could give some insight into their ways?"
A pained expression crossed John's face before he finally said, spreading his hands, "I'm still trying to remember her." He glanced over at Elizabeth, looking frustrated and helpless. "Lorne didn't bother to get a name, did he?"
~*~*~
Atlantis took no chances, backing up Colonel Sheppard's team with a full set of Marines, coincidentally some of the same ones from the card game at the Athosian settlement. John had avoided everyone up to the minute before the mission, which -- unfortunately within his hearing -- had been dubbed "Operation Diaper Pail."
John had given them a "ha-ha, very funny" to prove he had a sense of humor about it.
As Rodney stepped through the gate, he began complaining almost immediately. It was refreshingly normal and John cast him a grateful look. "Oh, no. Not again with the fur blankets and fleas. I got an infection last time. Are any of you allergic to mold?" he announced with a sweeping gesture. "Because this planet? Has every variety under the—oh, wait. I don't think they've ever seen the sun."
John glanced around at the scrubby pine trees and misty air and instantly recognized the place. Oh yeah, he remembered her.
Long red hair, thick as a horse's mane, and she actually had a horse. He hadn't ridden in a decade and she'd laughed at him, so he'd laughed, though he hadn't really seen what was so funny. The look she'd given him was challenging as she helped him dismount. She'd been almost as tall as he was. He'd liked that.
He'd slid down her stomach, and it was red down there too, and she'd lifted her head up to watch, a little frown forming. Stroking his hands down her hips he'd parted the soft folds of her lips with his tongue, expecting her thighs to relax and fall open, waiting half-consciously for that moan or sigh.
"What are you doing?" she'd said in her thick, British-y accent, so sexy….
"What do you mean, what am I doing?" John had raised up on his elbows and smiled.
"You can't do that," she'd said sharply, breaking the mood. "It's forbidden."
"You're kidding."
Things had gone downhill from there.
"Amazing," John mused aloud, glancing around the familiar landscape. The Marines fanned out around the gate in the standard pattern, saving John's team the trouble today. With the Wraith, you couldn't afford to be sloppy. McKay looked over at him curiously.
"That it's her," he said, falling into step next to Rodney. "I mean, that was some of the worst sex I'd had in a long time."
"Yes, well, apparently good or bad, it all works," McKay snorted.
~*~*~
Major Lorne stepped off the gate platform under cerulean blue sky, putting on his sunglasses. Sand dunes in all directions. Dust was already whipping into his face as white-robed villagers dogged his footsteps, followed by tiny goats with bells around their necks. He stuffed the list of gate addresses into his vest pocket and assigned two men to the gate with a gesture, with the third following at his right hand. Lorne walked towards the center of town, his head down in dogged determination.
Four gate addresses in two days -- none of them leaving from Atlantis -- and the Major offered his men no explanation. They exchanged glances behind his back but knew better than to ask.
~*~*~
Smoke billowed from a freshly banked cooking fire, swirling as it was caught by the wind. The huge low tent behind them was hung with furs and thick carpets, designed to be disassembled quickly and easily, to move to different pastures. The frame was bone, not wood, from some giant monster that they hunted here. Inside, Teyla and the colonel met with the men's council. Apparently, while trade had been a matter for both the men and women's council, Sheppard's fatherhood had to be settled by the men.
Feet up, one of the Marines flicked a pine needle into the fire.
"Don't get too comfortable, Levitt," one of the others told him.
"What do you think?" said another.
"I say rest while you can, 'cause we're gonna be shooting our way outta here," one man nodded. "Shotgun wedding, that's what we're looking at."
"Yep."
"Well, I hope not, because Lorne nearly wet himself over the naquada in the place." The other men laughed.
"Dr. McKay?"
Rodney had his handheld out and was busy, tapping away into it where he sat perched on a tree stump. He didn't answer.
"McKay." One of the Marines tossed some pine needles in his direction.
"You can't tell I'm ignoring you?" he snapped, brushing the pine needles off the PDA. But they were used to him by this point.
"What do you think's gonna happen?"
"I don't know. Maybe they're going to roast the colonel on a spit," Rodney sniped. Then he looked up more seriously, meeting their eyes. "He's probably going to end up with a whole tribe of little Sheppards we'll have to raise at the Athosian settlement, because they're not getting their sticky fingers all over my city."
The soldier got on his radio to the two they left at the gate. "Eisley? Murray? Your vote?"
"Whatever, I just hope they get to it fast. There's nothing worse than standing at the gate with my dick in my hands waiting for the Wraith to show."
The men laughed.
"Ronon?"
The soldiers still seemed to regard Ronon with a little awe, reticent when they said his name, like they wished he had a rank they could use instead.
Ronon stood, leaning his back against a tree, whittling a stick with a large knife. He spit to the side. "Teyla's good at negotiating."
~*~*~
John had been married once. He counted it as married anyway, because he'd thought for six months it was going to happen and acted like he was.
He was twenty-two ; they'd been together for months, and it was the Fourth of July. They were sprawled on the grass, legs stretched out, her arm warm next to his, and the fireworks lit her face. He looked over at her and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The words were out of his mouth before he knew he was going to say them, and when she said yes, they were hugging and missing the fireworks and John didn't know what to do. Then he realized, face buried in her hair, that he should probably buy a ring.
His squadron was scheduled to ship out in six weeks but her mom didn't want a quick wedding. So they set a date. It kept getting moved around from one phone call to the next.
By the time he got back, she was seeing someone else. So much for romance. He tried not to let it bother him; a lot could happen in six months. But, no, he didn't want to talk to her. And he still didn't regret smashing the windshield on the other guy's car.
~*~*~
It didn't help that the dozen or so men on the men's council were mostly the same age of John's dad. Not to mention his grandfather.
John sat cross-legged on a thick stack of carpets and hesitantly took a sip of the sticky sweet beer they passed around in a wide cup. He offered it to Teyla beside him, who just shook her head. The tent was dark, barely lit by a couple of flickering lamps, and the smoldering bowl of incense next to John made his eyes sting. Teyla had whispered that it was an honor but he wished they'd just stuck to rolling out the red carpet. The huge guy with the braids across the low table looked John over with an acquisitive air, and he was reminded unpleasantly of Jabba-the-Hut.
"He is counted a great warrior among his people." Teyla's patience had worn a little thin, as a thread of frustration colored her voice. "They need him in order to fight the Wraith."
"The Wraith are everywhere. He can fight them here," 'Jabba' said, finger stabbing at the ground.
"You see, that's not going to work for me," John smiled. "I need my weapons, my spaceship. And just looking at the tree cover, it's going to be hell to park." Teyla touched his knee in an unspoken signal for silence.
An older gentlemen spoke up, the one John had labeled 'The Smart Bastard.' "You seek an alliance with our people, yet you feel free to break our laws." Rheumy eyes glistened as he tilted his head at John. "Will you keep your trade agreements?" There was a murmur of assent around him.
"I'm not breaking your laws. I'm just asking for some accommodation for…" he shrugged, opening his hands, "…special circumstances."
The big guy laughed. "This is a common circumstance."
Conversation stalled as a patter of rough laughter went through the group.
"Well. We seem to be at something of an impasse." John smiled at them tightly.
"Perhaps I have a solution." Teyla sat straighter and raised her chin. "Colonel Sheppard's people cannot do without him. Yet you will accept nothing less than his joining your tribe."
The men's council agreed to this summation.
"Then Colonel Sheppard's people must come here."
"Teyla…" John said warningly, giving her a sharp look. She ignored him.
"They do not have tents such as yours," she explained. "They are used to… other accommodations."
"Teyla, we can't—" She cut him off with a flicker of annoyance, which she covered with an accommodating smile to 'Jabba.'
Who nodded cautiously in response. "We have a few tents remaining from those we lost in the last culling."
"And they've no livestock as they rely instead on trade in medicine and technology," she continued.
A voice spoke up in the back. "They can work the mines, make their weapons here." This suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm.
"I'm sure Rodney would love that…." John mumbled.
Teyla ignored that and added ruefully, "Plus they've no horses, which they will need. As Colonel Sheppard has said, their means of transportation will not work here."
This was greeted with concerned silence. Horses seemed to be valuable.
"Also, my own people will have to follow since we would be cut off from the ring of the ancestors without their ships," Teyla explained.
There was an eloquent silence. Then the older man spoke, "We cannot promise horses, but there is much arable land that can be cleared." Others nodded.
"That is most generous of you," Teyla said, with no apparent irony. "I understand you require both winter and summer pasturage?" Some replied yes. "This is something of a concern because my people number in excess of five hundred."
There was a moment of stunned silence, and John smiled slowly as he saw where she was headed. He'd never seen more than a couple hundred Manthosians.
She explained apologetically, " We have taken in refugees lately, from other worlds."
The smart old guy had caught on as well. "And Colonel Sheppard's people?"
"Number in excess of seven hundred." Which was stretching it, John thought. She was clearly counting the crew of the Daedalus and the soldiers who'd returned to earth. "About eighty percent of them men, fighters."
It was almost comical, the looks on their faces as they visualized themselves vastly outnumbered by hardened soldiers bristling with advanced weaponry. There was a big difference between negotiating with one lone guy who had -- he could admit -- screwed up, and an entire civilization. Teyla had managed to paint a threatening picture of Atlantis without uttering a single provocative word. She blinked at them placidly.
"And you are the leader of all this?" the old guy said to John, somewhat doubtful.
"The military leader," John shrugged, wondering if he should be insulted by his surprise. He tipped his head as if considering a brilliant idea. "Say. You know, you've a few women on your world… and the male-female ratio's a little off in my group since we're mostly soldiers." He made a balancing motion with his hand and gave them all a broad grin. "This could solve a real problem of ours." He could feel the warmth of Teyla's amusement next to him though her expression didn't change.
Their concern ratcheted up to real alarm. Now, there was no way to know exactly what they were thinking, but John had a feeling it wasn't particularly flattering to his men. He spared a moment to feel grateful they'd brought Ronon and a few of their biggest Marines.
"I fear that is more people than this world can support," the old guy said apologetically. Which was ridiculous, the planet was huge and virtually uninhabited, but John didn't call him on it. "Perhaps some accommodation can be reached."
"I would really appreciate that," John said, nodding and smiling amiably, "Because I'd like us all to be friends."
Things went pretty well after that, until right before the end. "So we are agreed. Colonel Sheppard shall remain with his people, and the daughter of our tribe shall be his wife and return with him to his city," they said, as if this were all a foregone conclusion.
"Whoa, hey -- wife?" John panicked, running a hand through his hair, his voice cracking. "Can we talk about this?"
"What he means is," Teyla interceded with a cautioning look, "that the city of the Ancestors is not a safe place for children and it would be very difficult for him to raise a family there."
The men's council shifted in their seats, disturbed. "This is highly unorthodox. Our laws only provide for monks and those on the blood path to leave their families. Are you a monk?"
John blushed. "I think we've pretty well established that I'm not."
"What is a 'blood path'?" Teyla asked, saying it slowly as if turning the phrase over in her mind.
"For those sworn on a path of revenge there can be no rest, no home."
"Well, I, uh, don't get a lot of sleep. And I'm really, really out to get the Wraith," John said nervously, his tone high and desperate.
"We have all lost many to the Wraith," the old guy said with a doubtful smirk.
"Hey. I had to shoot my own commanding officer to save him from the hive queen!" John argued.
"A particular Wraith." The old man's eyebrows raised. "And you have ships to follow them. You were so close to this, your 'commanding officer'?"
John drew a blank, gazing up at the ceiling. Sumner had been a hard-assed son of a bitch not at all happy to have John under his command. He couldn't say that he missed the man, although he wished he were here all the same. "Well, I…."
Teyla cut in quickly, "He was as a father to Colonel Sheppard."
"I will not rest until he is avenged," John added, with what he hoped was the right amount of intensity. He tried not to add 'by Grabthor's hammer' because he was pretty sure that would be too much.
The faces of the men's council were grave with understanding. They nodded knowingly to each other.
~*~*~
"So this is like, what? Child support?" John hovered behind Teyla as they folded the tent door shut behind them. The soldiers stood for their commanding officer, brushing off dirt and dead pine needles.
"There will be a ceremony tomorrow where you shall acknowledge the child as your own, as belonging to your tribe, but the child will be raised by her maternal family, yes," Teyla said. "And you will of course be expected to tithe until she reaches adulthood."
"Child support then ," John nodded with relief.
"And in the event of your death, she would be your heir," she continued.
"I can do that. It's not like I have anyone else." John ran through the practicalities in his mind. Elizabeth could file the change to his will, no sweat. "Though I don't know what a baby would do with a guitar."
Rodney frowned. "So, the kid gets legitimacy, but the mother is free to… roam?"
"Free to look for a more compatible mate, yes."
"Don't even think about it, McKay," John said, not liking the speculative look on Rodney's face.
"Hey, at least I know how to use a condom!"
"Would that be the same condom that's been bouncing around your pack for the last two years?" John said.
"What-? How did you--?" Rodney looked flustered and annoyed before turning to Teyla. "The Manthosians needn't worry. No doubt Dr. Weir would be more than happy to garnish Sheppard's wages." He smiled cheerful vengeance at John.
"That won't be necessary," John growled, looking at the ground.
"So we're here another night, Sir?" Sgt. Levitt interrupted before the two of them could really get going. Which was good, because John didn't have a better comeback.
John sighed happily as he sat down in the pine needles, his arms behind his head as he leaned back against a tree, more relaxed than he'd been in days. "Yep. Looks like."
There was a muffled curse over the radio from one of his men at the gate.
"Does somebody have a problem with that?" John said into his radio.
~*~*~
The sides of the tent shifted and moved like a breathing animal, billowing out, then sucking inward with the changes of the wind. All the lanterns spread around on benches and tables flickered wildly as John stood in the middle of the room, his hands folded behind his back, rocking back on his heels, trying to stand at ease. The place was certainly better lit than their last meeting.
He wished that Teyla could be there but, while his men had been invited, this "naming ceremony" (which apparently meant he was giving the name of his family or "tribe," not making up a first name on the spot) only allowed men.
Marine Sergeant Levitt and Corporal Wilson had security detail outside the door, while Ronon and Rodney hunched near the back. They were all permitted their weapons even if John wasn't. Rodney gave John an ironic little mocking wave, and John communicated his nervousness with a roll of his eyes. He wished he could hear whatever Rodney had leaned over to say to Ronon that made the Satedan smile, even if it was at his own expense.
Ronon gave John a dark-eyed guilty grin. Okay, it was definitely at his expense.
People were still filtering in through the door, glancing around for bare places to sit. Some carried little kids, boys that couldn't have been more than six years old, who talked loudly until silenced with a sharp word. There was a cough and he was surrounded by soft, murmuring chatter. Village gossip, John assumed. He heard the phrase "blood path" mentioned several times, and from the tone he was beginning to get the idea that it really meant "suicide mission."
"Standing room only tonight," John joked to a guy near his feet, but received no response. He sighed. There had to be at least a hundred people.
Then the village council arrived, stamping pine needles from their feet at the door, arranging furred cloaks around their shoulders. Everyone stood and Rodney un-slouched at the back, standing a little more respectfully as the dozen or so leaders filed into the front row then settled to sit cross-legged on the floor. It left only a few feet open around John. The rest of the crowd more or less followed suit. John started to sit down when a sharp look from one of the council guys told him, okay, fine, he was supposed to remain standing. He hoped he didn't have to give a speech or something, because public speaking wasn't his thing.
Then an old guy John didn't recognize stood and explained John's situation in simple straightforward terms. How John had had gotten Arella with child (Arella, that was her name) and the agreement they had arranged. John expected some snickering at the pregnancy part, but these guys took their naming ceremonies very seriously. John stood a little straighter.
The old guy asked them, Had the council acted wisely?
Eyes widening and his throat going dry, John realized the villagers had a right to throw out the judgment of the council if they didn't like it. All their negotiations could be for nothing.
One by one, the village men stood and said aye (or nay). Young boys were coached by their fathers to stand and respond. The vote circled to the back where Ronon and Rodney leaned. The voting paused, waiting.
"Oh, ah, yes," Rodney glanced around in confusion at the expectant faces . "It's a great idea. Aye." Ronon followed suit with a stiff nod. John started to wish he'd brought more men to tip the vote.
But the vast majority had agreed with the council. The council themselves, one after the other, of course accepted their own plan. They paused expectantly again, all eyes on John. Then he realized what they wanted.
"Right. Aye," John said, raising his eyebrows. It felt very final, like some door had permanently shut.
There was whispering over by the entrance, a woman's voice, and a buzz of confusion then as a deep, covered basket was thrust through the tent flap and passed by the crowd to the craggiest of the council elders. The elder set the basket on the floor next to John and said something sing-song in a different language. Then he nodded to John -- who had no clue what was expected of him now. He stood looking around in confusion.
Villagers craned their necks to peer at the basket, sitting up in their seats.
"They must see," the elder explained, which was not much of an explanation at all. John missed Teyla again.
He made a wild guess and kneeled down to hesitantly pull the wool blanket off the basket, one eye on the elder to make sure he was doing this right. He got an encouraging, if curt, nod and pulled it all the way off, and okay, baby. John took a sharp breath and wished they hadn't sprung this on him because he really wasn't ready for it.
She certainly looked different from the rest of them. Thick dark hair with pale white skin and a tiny rosebud mouth. John knew from his own baby pictures that he'd had a lot of fine brown hair, too. Someone had tied a bow in hers. Her hands were clutched into fists and she was tiny, fast asleep. John could see Rodney now joining everyone else in peering over, and he realized he'd kept them all waiting for a bit.
"Pick her up. They must see," the elder said.
"Oh, I dunno, I mean, she's asleep," John wavered, still staring, taking her in, eyes flicking up and down. "I'll wake her up." He couldn't explain that she looked too fragile to be pulled out of that basket, ever.
The old guy seemed to understand and his sun-browned hands reached around, gathering the limp baby into his arms, and then handed her to John. "Hold her head," he advised tiredly.
"Okay… heavy sleeper, that's--that's good," John said as he stood, aware he sounded inane as he tried to hold the tiny thing without moving. Or breathing either. Which wasn't too hard since his heart had stopped. "I'm kind of a light sleeper, myself. She's okay, isn't she?" he asked with a sudden flash of worry, cupping her head. "She should be sleeping like this, right?"
"She is well," the elder said, unconcerned. Which annoyed John, he wanted Beckett here – now – to check things out since he doubted these people knew a damned thing about real medicine.
The elder put some oil on the top of her head and she stirred, small feet kicking out as she turned towards John's chest. And John snorted a laugh because for a teeny thing she was pretty strong. Then the elder mumbled some mumbo-jumbo and had John bow down as he put some of the same stuff in John's hair.
"Do you swear before this assembly that she is a member of your house, to share hearth and home, to be protected even if it costs your life?"
"Oh, I swear. I definitely swear," John said.
"As you are on the blood path," a murmur started from the crowd at that reminder, " you should now give her a token of your family."
"A token of--? You guys have to stop springing stuff on me," John said, annoyed, but he already had an idea. "Psst! Rodney…." He gestured with his chin until Rodney got the message.
With a quick whispered conference he had Rodney shouldering back through the crowd. There was an urgent conversation outside the door with Marine Sergeant Levitt, and then Rodney returned with the gold serpentine necklace. John figured gold was valuable anywhere, right?
Head dipped over the tiny bundle in his arms, John gave her the smooth golden chain, her little fingers gripping his as he ignored the noise and mumbo-jumbo that closed the naming ceremony.
~*~*~
The city had paved roads and gray skies heavy with rain. The swings outside wood-framed windows squeaked where half a dozen children played. Lorne peered through, then nodded and handed off a small clinking bag of coins. He thanked his host, one foot scuffing the floor in embarrassment, and left, moving as quickly as he could while still being reasonably polite. His lieutenant fell into step behind him.
The rest of his team sat restlessly outside the front door. With a sharp jerk of his chin, Lorne indicated that they follow.
No trade, no negotiations. Only the barest courtesies to the local leadership. In and out in less than a day wherever the population was near the stargate. What the hell?
At the gate, the routine was as usual for this strange mission. They dialed Atlantis and radioed a message to Weir. "Nothing here," Lorne said, sounding both uncomfortable and gruff. He stood with arms folded, legs braced. "We dial M37-842 next. I'll inform you when we arrive."
"Thank you, Major," Weir answered.
"Lorne out." The gate shut off in a flash. The one thing his men did know was that this mission put the major in a prickly mood.
"Are you going to stand there scratching your asses, or do you plan to dial?"
~*~*~
Teyla had been housed in the familiar cluster of women's tents so John had to wait outside, cooling his heels as a little girl went inside to fetch her. He should have known that any society where the woman had to sneak him into her tent-? Was one he was better off leaving alone. But things had already gone pretty far before he'd gotten to that part, and he hadn't been keen on rolling around in the cold on wet pine needles. His eyes wandered over the row of small broad-shouldered horses tethered outside, but Arella's horse with the white stripe was nowhere to be found. Teyla ducked under a tent-flap and stroked one of the horses as she approached.
"I understand it went well," she said with a warm smile.
"Yeah, it did," John said distractedly.
"The gold necklace, that was well done." Her smile broadened. "It should provide for the child for many seasons. I'm told that they were quite impressed that you could command it of your men so freely. It demonstrated you were a man of great authority."
"Well, the authority of a poker game but we'll not mention that part," he drawled with a sheepish tilt of his head.
"Yes."
John looked around at the rocky sloping hillside and pine forest. The fast stream running to the south, beyond which were the swaying golden tops of farmland. "Teyla. These people don't have anything."
"I don't know what you mean. They live very comfortable lives. They have not known want for many seasons."
"Oh, they've got food and shelter and it's pretty out here, I'll give them that." John drew her aside, away from the tents, saying in an urgent undertone, "But they lack proper medical care. And they've got nothing to defend themselves with."
"I've found the Manthosians to be very capable warriors. It is their weapons that they trade in the winter," Teyla said, sounding somewhat offended. "Their lives are not very different from my own people, Colonel. And Doctor Beckett has learned much from our healers."
John took a breath, squinting, "Yeah okay, but swords and spears aren't much use against a Wraith dart, you know what I mean?"
"We are all vulnerable to the Wraith."
John went on, his head down, voice soft and intense, "I'm just thinking that the kid would be a lot safer back in Atlantis."
"Ah." Teyla went quiet. "You are just considering this now?"
"No, well -- yes." John ran a hand through his hair, walking in a circle. "Last night, anyway. There's nowhere safer unless I could arrange to have her sent back to Earth, and I doubt the SGC would go for that. Although General O'Neill likes me, so he might be able to pull a few strings eventually -- but as of right now, Atlantis is the best option."
Teyla took a deep breath and sighed.
"And her mom, too," John added quickly. "She and I weren't getting along too well when I last saw her but I'm sure we could work something out. She'd have to agree that this is a better solution."
"John," Teyla began with a shake of her head. "You should have thought of this before."
"I'm thinking of it now," he said irritably. "I know it's complicated—"
"You do not understand," Teyla cut him off.
"No, I realize this 'blood path' thing means I'm a goner to them, I get that."
"Colonel Sheppard," Teyla said, "I cannot tell them that you are not on a blood path."
"I know that. But we can at least extend an invitation for her to move to Atlantis," he said in a wry voice. "I don't know anyone in their right mind who'd choose this place over being safe from a Wraith attack -- pretty as it is," he looked around, "and you know, they should really look into the tourist industry."
She chewed her lip and then said, with exaggerated patience, "Colonel Sheppard. While it is true that we might have arranged this before, you must realize that you acknowledged the child and not the mother."
He gave her a blank look.
She rolled her eyes and explained in an exasperated tone, "Many women would consider it an insult to be so rejected."
"Rejected?" John blinked, a forlorn expression crossing his face. "Rejected? You didn't tell me that!"
"Perhaps you should have spoken with her first," Teyla said icily.
"Look, I was just trying to deal with the issues at hand." He spun away from her and looked up at the sky, shoulders sagging.
"I see. Have you considered that this may be the problem?"
Worse yet, this is only the first half (dodges tomatoes).
stellahobbit for her (long ago) beta review. Yes. I wrote Het. Worse yet, I'm editing in public again (I know, I should be ashamed of myself).
Dissymetry Of Lift or
Big Sky Theory (still working on that title; opinions welcome)
A creamy smooth leg slid up John's side, calf skimming down his ass and the back of his thigh. Not a lot of women in the Pegasus galaxy shaved, so yeah, this was nice. Even if on this planet it meant she was shaved everywhere else.
He cupped delicate shoulders, lips parted as he surged forward again, eyes closing in bliss at her tightness and the silky warmth around him. She arched, her breasts flattening, a moan caught deep in her throat, whispering something in a language he didn't know though he understood what she meant pretty damn clearly.
They'd gone to breakfast the next morning, separating as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She'd pressed her necklace into the palm of his hand and her lips brushed his as she leaned forward, "Take a part of me with you to the Ancestors," squeezing the hard edges of the chain almost painfully into his skin.
John wondered what women saw in him when he touched Ancient "magic" and lit up the walls of long-dead machines. But then again, Rodney could do the same thing and they didn't….
"Nice of you to join us, Major," Rodney's sarcastic voice had snapped behind him, tone dripping with the knowledge of just where John had spent the night. "Sleep well?" Teyla, next to Rodney, had cleared her throat politely while Ford had just grinned, impressed.
It wasn't fair of Rodney to put him in the position of either lying or bragging, but John had smirked. And went for option number two. It had served Rodney right.
"Long night," he'd breathed, deliberately lascivious, and got a gratifying huff of frustration, Rodney folding his arms, mouth tipped downward in an envious frown. John had rubbed it in just a little bit more, patting his shoulder as he brushed by to the breakfast hall. "Two words for you, McKay: Playboy. Bunny."
Rodney had spluttered, "Oh, that's just…."
"Oh man, Major," Ford had laughed.
Teyla had tipped her head in annoyed confusion at John, probably detecting a male joke. "That is three words."
"—are you in, Colonel Sheppard?" the Marine across the table interrupted John's reverie. The cards had already been dealt and John had a pretty good hand. He toyed with the delicate chain.
"Sorry," John said, running the chain through his fingers again, thinking.
He'd hoped to go back - it had been a great mission for a lot of reasons, peaceful world, friendly natives - but kinda knew that he wouldn't. Now it had been almost a year. He wasn't sure of his reception anyway. There was a good chance that these women wanted someone outside their own society and rules, and his return would ruin the fantasy. That had happened to him once before. Still, he usually held on to the trinkets they gave him.
What was her name? Key-la? Quianna-?
The chain made a delicate hiss as it slid against the coins in the pot. "I'm in," John said with a sigh. He could probably win it back.
Halling had built a pleasant cabin on the mainland. Small, solid and comfortable, with handmade wooden furniture and baskets, and bedrolls that were softer than the air mattresses John, Rodney, and the two Marines had excavated from the damaged jumper. If you had to get stranded for a night John couldn't think of a nicer place. Ronon sat cross-legged on the floor, disinterested in poker, while Teyla was off staying with relatives.
The Marine, Levitt, pulled a gold serpentine chain from around his neck, hands slow and reluctant as he added it to the pot.
"You don't have to give up your 'bling,' Levitt," John teased him with a lazy, airy gesture. He leaned back in the chair. Halling himself watched their game with his chin on crossed arms over the back of his chair and a look of bemusement. Though he'd demurred, saying he didn't gamble. "You could always just fold."
His smile was bright in a dark face as he dropped it into the pot. "No, Sir. You got nothin'."
"Oh, I might surprise you."
Rodney snorted where he sat perched on a windowsill, sitting on his hands. He'd folded long ago. "C'mon, Colonel. Even Halling here can tell you're bluffing."
There was a bellowing whoop of complaints and laughter as John finally turned over his cards. A royal flush. John swept the pile eagerly to his chest.
"I take it this means you've won," Halling observed, soft-voiced, his eyes bright.
"And how," Rodney agreed, nodding.
The serpentine chain nearly slid to the floor and John snagged it, noticing a momentary stricken look on Levitt's face as it dangled in his hands. "I think I've won enough from you – here." He held up the glittering thing.
"Nah, take it." Levitt tried to brush away the gesture.
John wrinkled his nose at the man. "I don't really go for the rapper look. Never been able to pull it off." He threw the chain, and Levitt caught it, carefully stringing it through his fingers. "Owe me a favor instead," he insisted.
"Thank you, Sir."
"No, thank you," John said, examining his haul. "What do I have here? Rodney's multi-tool – thanks, Rodney – some Athosian scented oils… a nice iPod. Halling," John turned to their host, nodding sagely, "This should teach them all a lesson: Never gamble." Halling slapped his knee and laughed.
~*~*~
The wormhole engaged, flashing a brilliant watery blue, and Lorne's team stepped through with the usual dazed look of men whose molecules had just been reassembled. They were back a day early from a fairly routine trading mission to the Manthosian mines. Major Lorne's specialty was mining (and explosives, but that went without saying). The first words out of his mouth were sharp and didn't answer the gateroom crew's cheerful "welcome back."
"Colonel Sheppard here?" Lorne pulled off a pair of gloves and stuffed them in a pocket.
"No, Sir, he's at the Athosian settlement," a tech answered.
"Oh, great. He's gonna wish he was," Lorne said cryptically, puffing his cheeks with a sigh, hands on his hips. He snorted and took the steps down from the gate platform. "Looks like I'll have to talk to Dr. Weir first." He turned to his men and stabbed a finger at them. "You, you, and you -- not one word." Then he shook his head as he made his way up the sweep of stairs to Dr. Weir's office. " He's not going be happy."
Weir had already appeared and was frowning at him, her face interested and concerned.
"Dr. Weir," Lorne said in his gravelly voice before he'd even reached her, taking the steps two at a time. "We've run into something of a diplomatic issue on Manthos." A quick look over his shoulder. "Can we talk in private?"
She nodded, pursing her lips cautiously. As the door shut behind him, Lorne's voice carried, "Colonel Sheppard was part of the first contact team, wasn't he?"
~*~*~
Colonel Sheppard's team milled around the conference room in the impatient quiet before an early meeting. A half-empty coffee pot burbled in the corner. Rodney warmed his hands on his mug, set it down to flip open his laptop, while Teyla stretched her arms over her head then let them fall with a sigh. With professional dignity Elizabeth straightened a file folder and pulled her chair closer, clearing her throat. The door opened a little late as Ronon stepped in, mopping his head with a towel.
"Where's the colonel?" Elizabeth glanced around the conference room.
"Late," Ronon said tersely with a small feral smile. "He went jogging with me. Said he stinks."
"And you clearly didn't shower. Fine -- you can sit over on that side of the table," McKay announced, pointing to the far end away from himself.
"Okay." Elizabeth deftly interrupted, glancing at her watch. "We should probably wait for the colonel but I've a question for you all." She raised her eyebrows. "A trade agreement for one of our mining operations has been stymied because a woman claims," Elizabeth emphasized the word with a doubtful tip of her head, "that Colonel Sheppard is the father of her child. Now I realize this may be a little bit surprising, but you were the first contact team and I hope you can to shed some light on what's going on."
She'd expected a moment of stunned silence. But Rodney started chuckling, building up slowly to a full laugh. "Oh, we never saw that one coming." He made a flippant gesture. "This was simply a matter of odds."
Elizabeth glanced from one member of the team to the other. Teyla glanced away, while Ronon met her gaze with a flat stare.
"Teyla?" Elizabeth prompted, with a raised eyebrow.
She took a breath and said with careful politeness, "The women on many worlds find Colonel Sheppard… very attractive."
"Oh, you can say that again," Rodney snorted gleefully. "Doomed, Sheppard is so doomed…" He framed a square in the air with his hands. "Patrimony suits and dirty diapers, I can see it now."
"And he--?" Elizabeth began before stopping herself. "I was going to ask why you thought this woman would make such a claim, what they could possibly hope to gain, but if it's true….?"
"It's true," Rodney said. "It's so absolutely true."
Teyla tipped her head, acknowledging with a wince, "There is a strong possibility."
Elizabeth glanced from one to the other and swallowed, adjusting the file folder in front of her. "I'm… well, I'm surprised. I wouldn't have brought this up if I thought for a minute--" She shook her head, touching her hand to her temple. "His behavior in Atlantis has been, maybe I wouldn't use the word 'exemplary,' but there's nothing that would lend credence--"
"Colonel Sheppard doesn't shit where he eats." Rodney folded his arms.
"I haven't even told you which planet this is," she pointed out, slightly irritated.
"Doesn't matter." Rodney waved a hand, brushing it aside as immaterial. "It could be anywhere."
Even Teyla didn't argue, while Ronon remained impassive. Which from him was answer enough.
"How many--?" Elizabeth asked, before stopping herself again. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.
The door to the conference room popped open. "Sorry I'm late," John said jauntily, his hair spiky and wet. He pulled out a chair. Then paused, poised over it as he glanced around the room and all eyes turned towards him. An uncertain smile played around the corners of his mouth, confusion and amusement flickering across his face. "What?"
Elizabeth looked at the floor and chewed her lip. Then said in a controlled, though probably tense voice, "This meeting is adjourned for now. Colonel Sheppard, may I have a word?" She added with an almost-sweet smile, "In private?"
"I wasn't that late," John blinked, standing.
As the team filtered out, eyebrows raised and trading meaningful glances, Rodney hooked a thumb over his shoulder and said to Ronon, "Two months ago, I was jealous. But now? I wouldn't be in Sheppard's shoes for the galaxy."
~*~*~
The atmosphere on Atlantis was jovial and alive with rumor, soft laughter in the halls and impromptu coffee break conferences over Ancient equipment. After being together over two years, the Atlantis crew was worse than most Air Force bases. It was a terrible thing when soldiers knew their commander well enough to understand which orders they had to follow and which ones he only wished they would, and unfortunately, Major Lorne's team was well past that point.
Outside the infirmary, Dr. Beckett was cautious; he raised a forestalling hand to one of his nurses. "For my part, I would have to see the DNA evidence. Though I will admit, in a population of redheads, a dark-haired child suggests some outside genetic material as dark hair is most certainly not a recessive trait…."
Low male laughter boomed from the mess hall as a group of soldiers ceased to even pretend to work, taking lunch instead. Routine diagnostics took twice as long and four times as many people as usual. Meanwhile, gateroom staff on duty the night Lorne's team returned were in high demand, called on to describe the look on Lorne's face over and over again.
In the Science department, Rodney's sharp voice finally rose above the buzzing murmur. He stood on a chair and clapped his hands several times.
"Yes, I'm sure Colonel Sheppard's sex life is endlessly fascinating," he griped, "but I expect some work done around here, people! Unless you have all finished translating the entire Ancient database, in which case, congratulations."
Yet even he was pulled aside for a quick whispered discussion with Zelenka that left the Czech sniggering behind his hand. As Rodney turned back to his computer, he said confidently, "Bound to happen. It was bound to happen…." Which ignited the discussion in the labs once again.
A tall, bearded Athosian stopped Teyla in the hall outside her quarters, "I do not understand. Is not the birth of a child a joyous occasion? The sign of a fruitful union? Why is this a source of such amusement?"
"Their marriage customs are somewhat different than ours," Teyla answered after a moment's hesitation. "Their betrothal must occur before there is a child, not after the success of the union is proved."
"Oh," the Athosian said. "Then Colonel Sheppard was not seeking a mate? Because he has acted as a man very interested in finding a woman, and certainly he has achieved a status where it is his right. I had considered offering my daughter, in fact, but I worried about the dowry…."
"They have no dowry system."
"Ah." The Athosian blinked. "Perhaps then I should have." He chuckled and gave a self-effacing shrug. "Too late now."
~*~*~
"But is it possible?"
John paced Elizabeth's office, running a hand up the back of his head. "It's really not likely."
"Is it possible?" she pressed. John paused and didn't answer. "Your team seems to think so."
"My team?" A look of betrayal crossed John's face, but then he relaxed with a snort and a lazy smile. "Oh. Yeah, well, McKay's just jealous. Frankly, between you and me, from what Cadman's told me, a date with a McKay is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And not in a good way."
But Elizabeth just raised her chin a little, putting on that not-very-effective tough gal act she had. Her eyes glittered and were unwavering though, and she'd clearly seen through his attempt at distraction.
"I'm going to send Lorne's team to collect blood samples for a DNA test," she said simply.
"You don't trust me?" John asked, incredulous.
"I do, that's why I'm asking, John!" she said. "But you're not answering me."
John let his hands drop and sank to a chair. He slumped, leaning on his elbow, thinking hard.
"It's possible," he admitted with a loose gesture. "I dunno. I don't remember anything about Manthos to tell you the truth. It was a year ago and I was a little more concerned about the Wraith."
Elizabeth sighed. "Thank you." The tension eased from her shoulders. Sometimes John thought she mediated conflict just because she hated it in all forms.
"I'm sending Lorne at any rate. Don't worry. We're not going to just take these people at their word," she assured him.
"I appreciate that."
A heavy silence hung in the air, like they weren't done yet.
"We need the Manthosians," she began, with that warning breath which told him she was building up to something else he wasn't going to like. "They have naquada that's almost completely unmined. It's good that we have a supply line to Earth now, but that's too fragile and we can't count on it. Atlantis has to be independent. We can't afford to forget what we learned our first year."
"Yeah, I think I read that memo. In fact, I seem to recall it was my idea," John pointed out.
"Yes, and it's a good one," she gave him a business-like smile. "So now we're dealing with many different cultures whose mores might not resemble our own, John. And I think you see where I'm headed with this."
"They're adult women. I'm sure they know what they're doing," John said patiently.
"They may misinterpret things based upon cultural differences. I need you to act in a mature fashion, taking this into consideration."
"Christ!" John rolled his eyes. "Elizabeth, half the men on this base have something going on off-world," he said with disgust, pointing at the door. "Bates -- do you seriously think he resigned from head of security for some boring supply run for no reason? He's got that hot little Polynesian number on M4A-249."
"He does." Elizabeth's voice was faint.
A look of doubt crossed John's face. He licked his lips. "Um, yeah. Don't tell him I told you that."
Elizabeth pinched her brow as if pushing away a headache. "We can discuss the lack of discipline in your troops another time," she said meaningfully, and whoa, that turnabout caught him off guard. He pitied whoever had to negotiate with her because he suddenly felt about an inch high. "The fact is, you're the military head of Atlantis. You have to set an example—"
"—for my men," John finished. "You know, you and Caldwell should set up a synchronized swim team."
"—and I need you to tell me what other treaties may be at risk as a result of your actions." Her eyes narrowed at him.
He looked at her blankly, not quite decoding the diplomacy-speak on that one. And then he figured it out. He almost laughed in her face. "You what?"
"A list. Just the planet designations; you don't have to give me any names."
"No, I don't have to give you anything," he spluttered, torn between laughter and shock. "I don't think the president could ask that."
"John," she said. "We may have to renegotiate with Manthos because of you. I don't want any more surprises." Her voice turned urgent as she leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. "What if a critical supply-line is threatened when we're under attack from the Wraith? Are you willing to put your pride ahead of the safety of the city?"
John swept his jacket from the back of his chair and stood, stuffing his arms in his sleeves. "We're done here."
As the stained glass door slid shut behind him, Elizabeth stared after Sheppard grimly. The set of his shoulders was angry and defiant, and he strode through the gateroom staff, head down, not looking at anyone. The gate crew cast him a few surreptitious glances.
"No, I didn't think you'd tell me," she murmured to herself.
Then tapped her radio.
"Charlie? Please find Major Lorne and ask him to see me at his earliest convenience."
~*~*~
Manthos. Mining.
John adjusted the weights on the bar, spinning the wing nuts tight. He added just enough to make it look like he was serious, but not so much that he had to pay a huge amount of attention. The sudden silence in the weight room let him know exactly who was the topic of conversation today, and John flashed back to the weeks after his black mark in Afghanistan.
He lay back on the bench and grit his teeth, over more than just the weight, and started his reps.
Trouble was, he couldn't answer Elizabeth's question even if he wanted to. Someplace with mines….
There had been one girl on a planet with a bunch of caves. She'd been shoveling rocks and explained how they lived, swiping dirty blond hair from her face, which was pink and shiny with sweat.
"So all you do is shovel coal and hide from the Wraith?" he'd asked. He couldn't imagine a life where you never got to see the sky.
She'd sparkled up at him mischievously. "Hardly."
"Then, what do you do? Play charades?" he'd asked with a cautious smile. He'd gotten it even at the words left his mouth, and blushed, looking at the ground. "Oh. Right."
She'd grinned at him and put away the pickax, wiping her hands on her coveralls. And offered him a tour.
"What is charades?" she'd asked as John skipped ahead, walking backwards. Not showing off, oh no, not at all.
But they hadn't had naquada there, just low-grade coal. And a population that was dying of black lung. Carson had told them the solution: stop living in the mines. But that wasn't really an option.
She'd wakened him in the middle of the night with a wracking cough. Her room was in a cave, her bed draped against the draughts. He'd reached through the curtains into cool air and lit the lantern, then held her and rubbed her back all the way through it, feeling alone and useless.
~*~*~
"It's confirmed," Dr. Beckett said with a quick sympathetic glance at John.
Elizabeth had asked who John wanted present at this meeting, and had gotten a cynical, "Who cares? The whole damned city already knows." She heard the unspoken and Caldwell will have my ass in that and kept it to just Beckett and Teyla.
"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked, unnecessarily.
John was expressionless, his arms folded as he tipped back in his chair. He might as well have been wearing his sunglasses for all that he revealed.
"This is no deep DNA strand examination like we use to detect the ATA gene," the doctor explained. "It is a simple blood-test, and quite clear. Even more so than it would be on earth, given the differences between humans in the Pegasus galaxy and our own planet; there is ten thousand years of genetic drift." He raised his eyebrows at John. "Under normal circumstances, congratulations would be in order."
Elizabeth wasn't sure if Carson was kidding or not. John took a visible breath, looking up, tense and defensive.
"But I don't think we'll be doing that," Carson ended lamely. Elizabeth was sure she detected a twinkle in his eye, but he hid it well with a rueful tip of his head.
She glanced at Teyla, who folded her hands in a graceful gesture. "On most worlds, a child is welcomed under any circumstances. Our numbers dwindle due to the Wraith."
John spoke, nodding cautiously, "That makes sense." One foot rocked the chair back on two legs.
"Though I am not familiar with Manthos -- my people have had little need of their weapons and metals -- I believe it unlikely they are truly angry with Colonel Sheppard. No doubt they are merely using this to their advantage."
"That was my first thought," Elizabeth said with a wry twist of her lips.
"They will probably insist that Colonel Sheppard join their tribe." She gave them a small apologetic smile. "A baby is valuable, but a full-grown warrior is even more so."
"Yeah, see, I'm kinda booked this week, what with paperwork, that lost box of Ho-Hos people keep complaining about, and then there's the little task of defending against the Wraith," John said, letting the chair tip back onto all four legs.
"It will be their opening offer. But I will do what I can." Teyla smiled at him, dipping her head in a nod. "Is there anything you can tell us about your," she sought for a word carefully, eyes scanning the ceiling, "girlfriend, that could give some insight into their ways?"
A pained expression crossed John's face before he finally said, spreading his hands, "I'm still trying to remember her." He glanced over at Elizabeth, looking frustrated and helpless. "Lorne didn't bother to get a name, did he?"
~*~*~
Atlantis took no chances, backing up Colonel Sheppard's team with a full set of Marines, coincidentally some of the same ones from the card game at the Athosian settlement. John had avoided everyone up to the minute before the mission, which -- unfortunately within his hearing -- had been dubbed "Operation Diaper Pail."
John had given them a "ha-ha, very funny" to prove he had a sense of humor about it.
As Rodney stepped through the gate, he began complaining almost immediately. It was refreshingly normal and John cast him a grateful look. "Oh, no. Not again with the fur blankets and fleas. I got an infection last time. Are any of you allergic to mold?" he announced with a sweeping gesture. "Because this planet? Has every variety under the—oh, wait. I don't think they've ever seen the sun."
John glanced around at the scrubby pine trees and misty air and instantly recognized the place. Oh yeah, he remembered her.
Long red hair, thick as a horse's mane, and she actually had a horse. He hadn't ridden in a decade and she'd laughed at him, so he'd laughed, though he hadn't really seen what was so funny. The look she'd given him was challenging as she helped him dismount. She'd been almost as tall as he was. He'd liked that.
He'd slid down her stomach, and it was red down there too, and she'd lifted her head up to watch, a little frown forming. Stroking his hands down her hips he'd parted the soft folds of her lips with his tongue, expecting her thighs to relax and fall open, waiting half-consciously for that moan or sigh.
"What are you doing?" she'd said in her thick, British-y accent, so sexy….
"What do you mean, what am I doing?" John had raised up on his elbows and smiled.
"You can't do that," she'd said sharply, breaking the mood. "It's forbidden."
"You're kidding."
Things had gone downhill from there.
"Amazing," John mused aloud, glancing around the familiar landscape. The Marines fanned out around the gate in the standard pattern, saving John's team the trouble today. With the Wraith, you couldn't afford to be sloppy. McKay looked over at him curiously.
"That it's her," he said, falling into step next to Rodney. "I mean, that was some of the worst sex I'd had in a long time."
"Yes, well, apparently good or bad, it all works," McKay snorted.
~*~*~
Major Lorne stepped off the gate platform under cerulean blue sky, putting on his sunglasses. Sand dunes in all directions. Dust was already whipping into his face as white-robed villagers dogged his footsteps, followed by tiny goats with bells around their necks. He stuffed the list of gate addresses into his vest pocket and assigned two men to the gate with a gesture, with the third following at his right hand. Lorne walked towards the center of town, his head down in dogged determination.
Four gate addresses in two days -- none of them leaving from Atlantis -- and the Major offered his men no explanation. They exchanged glances behind his back but knew better than to ask.
~*~*~
Smoke billowed from a freshly banked cooking fire, swirling as it was caught by the wind. The huge low tent behind them was hung with furs and thick carpets, designed to be disassembled quickly and easily, to move to different pastures. The frame was bone, not wood, from some giant monster that they hunted here. Inside, Teyla and the colonel met with the men's council. Apparently, while trade had been a matter for both the men and women's council, Sheppard's fatherhood had to be settled by the men.
Feet up, one of the Marines flicked a pine needle into the fire.
"Don't get too comfortable, Levitt," one of the others told him.
"What do you think?" said another.
"I say rest while you can, 'cause we're gonna be shooting our way outta here," one man nodded. "Shotgun wedding, that's what we're looking at."
"Yep."
"Well, I hope not, because Lorne nearly wet himself over the naquada in the place." The other men laughed.
"Dr. McKay?"
Rodney had his handheld out and was busy, tapping away into it where he sat perched on a tree stump. He didn't answer.
"McKay." One of the Marines tossed some pine needles in his direction.
"You can't tell I'm ignoring you?" he snapped, brushing the pine needles off the PDA. But they were used to him by this point.
"What do you think's gonna happen?"
"I don't know. Maybe they're going to roast the colonel on a spit," Rodney sniped. Then he looked up more seriously, meeting their eyes. "He's probably going to end up with a whole tribe of little Sheppards we'll have to raise at the Athosian settlement, because they're not getting their sticky fingers all over my city."
The soldier got on his radio to the two they left at the gate. "Eisley? Murray? Your vote?"
"Whatever, I just hope they get to it fast. There's nothing worse than standing at the gate with my dick in my hands waiting for the Wraith to show."
The men laughed.
"Ronon?"
The soldiers still seemed to regard Ronon with a little awe, reticent when they said his name, like they wished he had a rank they could use instead.
Ronon stood, leaning his back against a tree, whittling a stick with a large knife. He spit to the side. "Teyla's good at negotiating."
~*~*~
John had been married once. He counted it as married anyway, because he'd thought for six months it was going to happen and acted like he was.
He was twenty-two ; they'd been together for months, and it was the Fourth of July. They were sprawled on the grass, legs stretched out, her arm warm next to his, and the fireworks lit her face. He looked over at her and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The words were out of his mouth before he knew he was going to say them, and when she said yes, they were hugging and missing the fireworks and John didn't know what to do. Then he realized, face buried in her hair, that he should probably buy a ring.
His squadron was scheduled to ship out in six weeks but her mom didn't want a quick wedding. So they set a date. It kept getting moved around from one phone call to the next.
By the time he got back, she was seeing someone else. So much for romance. He tried not to let it bother him; a lot could happen in six months. But, no, he didn't want to talk to her. And he still didn't regret smashing the windshield on the other guy's car.
~*~*~
It didn't help that the dozen or so men on the men's council were mostly the same age of John's dad. Not to mention his grandfather.
John sat cross-legged on a thick stack of carpets and hesitantly took a sip of the sticky sweet beer they passed around in a wide cup. He offered it to Teyla beside him, who just shook her head. The tent was dark, barely lit by a couple of flickering lamps, and the smoldering bowl of incense next to John made his eyes sting. Teyla had whispered that it was an honor but he wished they'd just stuck to rolling out the red carpet. The huge guy with the braids across the low table looked John over with an acquisitive air, and he was reminded unpleasantly of Jabba-the-Hut.
"He is counted a great warrior among his people." Teyla's patience had worn a little thin, as a thread of frustration colored her voice. "They need him in order to fight the Wraith."
"The Wraith are everywhere. He can fight them here," 'Jabba' said, finger stabbing at the ground.
"You see, that's not going to work for me," John smiled. "I need my weapons, my spaceship. And just looking at the tree cover, it's going to be hell to park." Teyla touched his knee in an unspoken signal for silence.
An older gentlemen spoke up, the one John had labeled 'The Smart Bastard.' "You seek an alliance with our people, yet you feel free to break our laws." Rheumy eyes glistened as he tilted his head at John. "Will you keep your trade agreements?" There was a murmur of assent around him.
"I'm not breaking your laws. I'm just asking for some accommodation for…" he shrugged, opening his hands, "…special circumstances."
The big guy laughed. "This is a common circumstance."
Conversation stalled as a patter of rough laughter went through the group.
"Well. We seem to be at something of an impasse." John smiled at them tightly.
"Perhaps I have a solution." Teyla sat straighter and raised her chin. "Colonel Sheppard's people cannot do without him. Yet you will accept nothing less than his joining your tribe."
The men's council agreed to this summation.
"Then Colonel Sheppard's people must come here."
"Teyla…" John said warningly, giving her a sharp look. She ignored him.
"They do not have tents such as yours," she explained. "They are used to… other accommodations."
"Teyla, we can't—" She cut him off with a flicker of annoyance, which she covered with an accommodating smile to 'Jabba.'
Who nodded cautiously in response. "We have a few tents remaining from those we lost in the last culling."
"And they've no livestock as they rely instead on trade in medicine and technology," she continued.
A voice spoke up in the back. "They can work the mines, make their weapons here." This suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm.
"I'm sure Rodney would love that…." John mumbled.
Teyla ignored that and added ruefully, "Plus they've no horses, which they will need. As Colonel Sheppard has said, their means of transportation will not work here."
This was greeted with concerned silence. Horses seemed to be valuable.
"Also, my own people will have to follow since we would be cut off from the ring of the ancestors without their ships," Teyla explained.
There was an eloquent silence. Then the older man spoke, "We cannot promise horses, but there is much arable land that can be cleared." Others nodded.
"That is most generous of you," Teyla said, with no apparent irony. "I understand you require both winter and summer pasturage?" Some replied yes. "This is something of a concern because my people number in excess of five hundred."
There was a moment of stunned silence, and John smiled slowly as he saw where she was headed. He'd never seen more than a couple hundred Manthosians.
She explained apologetically, " We have taken in refugees lately, from other worlds."
The smart old guy had caught on as well. "And Colonel Sheppard's people?"
"Number in excess of seven hundred." Which was stretching it, John thought. She was clearly counting the crew of the Daedalus and the soldiers who'd returned to earth. "About eighty percent of them men, fighters."
It was almost comical, the looks on their faces as they visualized themselves vastly outnumbered by hardened soldiers bristling with advanced weaponry. There was a big difference between negotiating with one lone guy who had -- he could admit -- screwed up, and an entire civilization. Teyla had managed to paint a threatening picture of Atlantis without uttering a single provocative word. She blinked at them placidly.
"And you are the leader of all this?" the old guy said to John, somewhat doubtful.
"The military leader," John shrugged, wondering if he should be insulted by his surprise. He tipped his head as if considering a brilliant idea. "Say. You know, you've a few women on your world… and the male-female ratio's a little off in my group since we're mostly soldiers." He made a balancing motion with his hand and gave them all a broad grin. "This could solve a real problem of ours." He could feel the warmth of Teyla's amusement next to him though her expression didn't change.
Their concern ratcheted up to real alarm. Now, there was no way to know exactly what they were thinking, but John had a feeling it wasn't particularly flattering to his men. He spared a moment to feel grateful they'd brought Ronon and a few of their biggest Marines.
"I fear that is more people than this world can support," the old guy said apologetically. Which was ridiculous, the planet was huge and virtually uninhabited, but John didn't call him on it. "Perhaps some accommodation can be reached."
"I would really appreciate that," John said, nodding and smiling amiably, "Because I'd like us all to be friends."
Things went pretty well after that, until right before the end. "So we are agreed. Colonel Sheppard shall remain with his people, and the daughter of our tribe shall be his wife and return with him to his city," they said, as if this were all a foregone conclusion.
"Whoa, hey -- wife?" John panicked, running a hand through his hair, his voice cracking. "Can we talk about this?"
"What he means is," Teyla interceded with a cautioning look, "that the city of the Ancestors is not a safe place for children and it would be very difficult for him to raise a family there."
The men's council shifted in their seats, disturbed. "This is highly unorthodox. Our laws only provide for monks and those on the blood path to leave their families. Are you a monk?"
John blushed. "I think we've pretty well established that I'm not."
"What is a 'blood path'?" Teyla asked, saying it slowly as if turning the phrase over in her mind.
"For those sworn on a path of revenge there can be no rest, no home."
"Well, I, uh, don't get a lot of sleep. And I'm really, really out to get the Wraith," John said nervously, his tone high and desperate.
"We have all lost many to the Wraith," the old guy said with a doubtful smirk.
"Hey. I had to shoot my own commanding officer to save him from the hive queen!" John argued.
"A particular Wraith." The old man's eyebrows raised. "And you have ships to follow them. You were so close to this, your 'commanding officer'?"
John drew a blank, gazing up at the ceiling. Sumner had been a hard-assed son of a bitch not at all happy to have John under his command. He couldn't say that he missed the man, although he wished he were here all the same. "Well, I…."
Teyla cut in quickly, "He was as a father to Colonel Sheppard."
"I will not rest until he is avenged," John added, with what he hoped was the right amount of intensity. He tried not to add 'by Grabthor's hammer' because he was pretty sure that would be too much.
The faces of the men's council were grave with understanding. They nodded knowingly to each other.
~*~*~
"So this is like, what? Child support?" John hovered behind Teyla as they folded the tent door shut behind them. The soldiers stood for their commanding officer, brushing off dirt and dead pine needles.
"There will be a ceremony tomorrow where you shall acknowledge the child as your own, as belonging to your tribe, but the child will be raised by her maternal family, yes," Teyla said. "And you will of course be expected to tithe until she reaches adulthood."
"Child support then ," John nodded with relief.
"And in the event of your death, she would be your heir," she continued.
"I can do that. It's not like I have anyone else." John ran through the practicalities in his mind. Elizabeth could file the change to his will, no sweat. "Though I don't know what a baby would do with a guitar."
Rodney frowned. "So, the kid gets legitimacy, but the mother is free to… roam?"
"Free to look for a more compatible mate, yes."
"Don't even think about it, McKay," John said, not liking the speculative look on Rodney's face.
"Hey, at least I know how to use a condom!"
"Would that be the same condom that's been bouncing around your pack for the last two years?" John said.
"What-? How did you--?" Rodney looked flustered and annoyed before turning to Teyla. "The Manthosians needn't worry. No doubt Dr. Weir would be more than happy to garnish Sheppard's wages." He smiled cheerful vengeance at John.
"That won't be necessary," John growled, looking at the ground.
"So we're here another night, Sir?" Sgt. Levitt interrupted before the two of them could really get going. Which was good, because John didn't have a better comeback.
John sighed happily as he sat down in the pine needles, his arms behind his head as he leaned back against a tree, more relaxed than he'd been in days. "Yep. Looks like."
There was a muffled curse over the radio from one of his men at the gate.
"Does somebody have a problem with that?" John said into his radio.
~*~*~
The sides of the tent shifted and moved like a breathing animal, billowing out, then sucking inward with the changes of the wind. All the lanterns spread around on benches and tables flickered wildly as John stood in the middle of the room, his hands folded behind his back, rocking back on his heels, trying to stand at ease. The place was certainly better lit than their last meeting.
He wished that Teyla could be there but, while his men had been invited, this "naming ceremony" (which apparently meant he was giving the name of his family or "tribe," not making up a first name on the spot) only allowed men.
Marine Sergeant Levitt and Corporal Wilson had security detail outside the door, while Ronon and Rodney hunched near the back. They were all permitted their weapons even if John wasn't. Rodney gave John an ironic little mocking wave, and John communicated his nervousness with a roll of his eyes. He wished he could hear whatever Rodney had leaned over to say to Ronon that made the Satedan smile, even if it was at his own expense.
Ronon gave John a dark-eyed guilty grin. Okay, it was definitely at his expense.
People were still filtering in through the door, glancing around for bare places to sit. Some carried little kids, boys that couldn't have been more than six years old, who talked loudly until silenced with a sharp word. There was a cough and he was surrounded by soft, murmuring chatter. Village gossip, John assumed. He heard the phrase "blood path" mentioned several times, and from the tone he was beginning to get the idea that it really meant "suicide mission."
"Standing room only tonight," John joked to a guy near his feet, but received no response. He sighed. There had to be at least a hundred people.
Then the village council arrived, stamping pine needles from their feet at the door, arranging furred cloaks around their shoulders. Everyone stood and Rodney un-slouched at the back, standing a little more respectfully as the dozen or so leaders filed into the front row then settled to sit cross-legged on the floor. It left only a few feet open around John. The rest of the crowd more or less followed suit. John started to sit down when a sharp look from one of the council guys told him, okay, fine, he was supposed to remain standing. He hoped he didn't have to give a speech or something, because public speaking wasn't his thing.
Then an old guy John didn't recognize stood and explained John's situation in simple straightforward terms. How John had had gotten Arella with child (Arella, that was her name) and the agreement they had arranged. John expected some snickering at the pregnancy part, but these guys took their naming ceremonies very seriously. John stood a little straighter.
The old guy asked them, Had the council acted wisely?
Eyes widening and his throat going dry, John realized the villagers had a right to throw out the judgment of the council if they didn't like it. All their negotiations could be for nothing.
One by one, the village men stood and said aye (or nay). Young boys were coached by their fathers to stand and respond. The vote circled to the back where Ronon and Rodney leaned. The voting paused, waiting.
"Oh, ah, yes," Rodney glanced around in confusion at the expectant faces . "It's a great idea. Aye." Ronon followed suit with a stiff nod. John started to wish he'd brought more men to tip the vote.
But the vast majority had agreed with the council. The council themselves, one after the other, of course accepted their own plan. They paused expectantly again, all eyes on John. Then he realized what they wanted.
"Right. Aye," John said, raising his eyebrows. It felt very final, like some door had permanently shut.
There was whispering over by the entrance, a woman's voice, and a buzz of confusion then as a deep, covered basket was thrust through the tent flap and passed by the crowd to the craggiest of the council elders. The elder set the basket on the floor next to John and said something sing-song in a different language. Then he nodded to John -- who had no clue what was expected of him now. He stood looking around in confusion.
Villagers craned their necks to peer at the basket, sitting up in their seats.
"They must see," the elder explained, which was not much of an explanation at all. John missed Teyla again.
He made a wild guess and kneeled down to hesitantly pull the wool blanket off the basket, one eye on the elder to make sure he was doing this right. He got an encouraging, if curt, nod and pulled it all the way off, and okay, baby. John took a sharp breath and wished they hadn't sprung this on him because he really wasn't ready for it.
She certainly looked different from the rest of them. Thick dark hair with pale white skin and a tiny rosebud mouth. John knew from his own baby pictures that he'd had a lot of fine brown hair, too. Someone had tied a bow in hers. Her hands were clutched into fists and she was tiny, fast asleep. John could see Rodney now joining everyone else in peering over, and he realized he'd kept them all waiting for a bit.
"Pick her up. They must see," the elder said.
"Oh, I dunno, I mean, she's asleep," John wavered, still staring, taking her in, eyes flicking up and down. "I'll wake her up." He couldn't explain that she looked too fragile to be pulled out of that basket, ever.
The old guy seemed to understand and his sun-browned hands reached around, gathering the limp baby into his arms, and then handed her to John. "Hold her head," he advised tiredly.
"Okay… heavy sleeper, that's--that's good," John said as he stood, aware he sounded inane as he tried to hold the tiny thing without moving. Or breathing either. Which wasn't too hard since his heart had stopped. "I'm kind of a light sleeper, myself. She's okay, isn't she?" he asked with a sudden flash of worry, cupping her head. "She should be sleeping like this, right?"
"She is well," the elder said, unconcerned. Which annoyed John, he wanted Beckett here – now – to check things out since he doubted these people knew a damned thing about real medicine.
The elder put some oil on the top of her head and she stirred, small feet kicking out as she turned towards John's chest. And John snorted a laugh because for a teeny thing she was pretty strong. Then the elder mumbled some mumbo-jumbo and had John bow down as he put some of the same stuff in John's hair.
"Do you swear before this assembly that she is a member of your house, to share hearth and home, to be protected even if it costs your life?"
"Oh, I swear. I definitely swear," John said.
"As you are on the blood path," a murmur started from the crowd at that reminder, " you should now give her a token of your family."
"A token of--? You guys have to stop springing stuff on me," John said, annoyed, but he already had an idea. "Psst! Rodney…." He gestured with his chin until Rodney got the message.
With a quick whispered conference he had Rodney shouldering back through the crowd. There was an urgent conversation outside the door with Marine Sergeant Levitt, and then Rodney returned with the gold serpentine necklace. John figured gold was valuable anywhere, right?
Head dipped over the tiny bundle in his arms, John gave her the smooth golden chain, her little fingers gripping his as he ignored the noise and mumbo-jumbo that closed the naming ceremony.
~*~*~
The city had paved roads and gray skies heavy with rain. The swings outside wood-framed windows squeaked where half a dozen children played. Lorne peered through, then nodded and handed off a small clinking bag of coins. He thanked his host, one foot scuffing the floor in embarrassment, and left, moving as quickly as he could while still being reasonably polite. His lieutenant fell into step behind him.
The rest of his team sat restlessly outside the front door. With a sharp jerk of his chin, Lorne indicated that they follow.
No trade, no negotiations. Only the barest courtesies to the local leadership. In and out in less than a day wherever the population was near the stargate. What the hell?
At the gate, the routine was as usual for this strange mission. They dialed Atlantis and radioed a message to Weir. "Nothing here," Lorne said, sounding both uncomfortable and gruff. He stood with arms folded, legs braced. "We dial M37-842 next. I'll inform you when we arrive."
"Thank you, Major," Weir answered.
"Lorne out." The gate shut off in a flash. The one thing his men did know was that this mission put the major in a prickly mood.
"Are you going to stand there scratching your asses, or do you plan to dial?"
~*~*~
Teyla had been housed in the familiar cluster of women's tents so John had to wait outside, cooling his heels as a little girl went inside to fetch her. He should have known that any society where the woman had to sneak him into her tent-? Was one he was better off leaving alone. But things had already gone pretty far before he'd gotten to that part, and he hadn't been keen on rolling around in the cold on wet pine needles. His eyes wandered over the row of small broad-shouldered horses tethered outside, but Arella's horse with the white stripe was nowhere to be found. Teyla ducked under a tent-flap and stroked one of the horses as she approached.
"I understand it went well," she said with a warm smile.
"Yeah, it did," John said distractedly.
"The gold necklace, that was well done." Her smile broadened. "It should provide for the child for many seasons. I'm told that they were quite impressed that you could command it of your men so freely. It demonstrated you were a man of great authority."
"Well, the authority of a poker game but we'll not mention that part," he drawled with a sheepish tilt of his head.
"Yes."
John looked around at the rocky sloping hillside and pine forest. The fast stream running to the south, beyond which were the swaying golden tops of farmland. "Teyla. These people don't have anything."
"I don't know what you mean. They live very comfortable lives. They have not known want for many seasons."
"Oh, they've got food and shelter and it's pretty out here, I'll give them that." John drew her aside, away from the tents, saying in an urgent undertone, "But they lack proper medical care. And they've got nothing to defend themselves with."
"I've found the Manthosians to be very capable warriors. It is their weapons that they trade in the winter," Teyla said, sounding somewhat offended. "Their lives are not very different from my own people, Colonel. And Doctor Beckett has learned much from our healers."
John took a breath, squinting, "Yeah okay, but swords and spears aren't much use against a Wraith dart, you know what I mean?"
"We are all vulnerable to the Wraith."
John went on, his head down, voice soft and intense, "I'm just thinking that the kid would be a lot safer back in Atlantis."
"Ah." Teyla went quiet. "You are just considering this now?"
"No, well -- yes." John ran a hand through his hair, walking in a circle. "Last night, anyway. There's nowhere safer unless I could arrange to have her sent back to Earth, and I doubt the SGC would go for that. Although General O'Neill likes me, so he might be able to pull a few strings eventually -- but as of right now, Atlantis is the best option."
Teyla took a deep breath and sighed.
"And her mom, too," John added quickly. "She and I weren't getting along too well when I last saw her but I'm sure we could work something out. She'd have to agree that this is a better solution."
"John," Teyla began with a shake of her head. "You should have thought of this before."
"I'm thinking of it now," he said irritably. "I know it's complicated—"
"You do not understand," Teyla cut him off.
"No, I realize this 'blood path' thing means I'm a goner to them, I get that."
"Colonel Sheppard," Teyla said, "I cannot tell them that you are not on a blood path."
"I know that. But we can at least extend an invitation for her to move to Atlantis," he said in a wry voice. "I don't know anyone in their right mind who'd choose this place over being safe from a Wraith attack -- pretty as it is," he looked around, "and you know, they should really look into the tourist industry."
She chewed her lip and then said, with exaggerated patience, "Colonel Sheppard. While it is true that we might have arranged this before, you must realize that you acknowledged the child and not the mother."
He gave her a blank look.
She rolled her eyes and explained in an exasperated tone, "Many women would consider it an insult to be so rejected."
"Rejected?" John blinked, a forlorn expression crossing his face. "Rejected? You didn't tell me that!"
"Perhaps you should have spoken with her first," Teyla said icily.
"Look, I was just trying to deal with the issues at hand." He spun away from her and looked up at the sky, shoulders sagging.
"I see. Have you considered that this may be the problem?"
Worse yet, this is only the first half (dodges tomatoes).
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-09-27 10:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-27 11:01 am (UTC)Icarus
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Date: 2006-09-27 03:02 pm (UTC)I love this, by the way, and absolutely cannot wait for more. Apart from the obvious intriguing nature of this story, I do like your world-building -- your Atlantis feels real, flawed and funny the way actual places are. Nice Elizabeth voice, too!
Thanks for sharing. More soon?
::goes to write Ard::
no subject
Date: 2006-09-27 07:13 pm (UTC)Cool. I'm hoping the enjoyment of others will help me get off my duff and solve my plotting problems.
I do like your world-building -- your Atlantis feels real, flawed and funny the way actual places are. Nice Elizabeth voice, too!
High praise from you. I know I didn't say so, but I loved your day-in-the-life look at Atlantis in the last part of Ard.
Thanks for sharing. More soon?
That's the plan.
::goes to write Ard::
Yes -- go, go! (Shoot, I owe real comments on Auburn's "Atlantis: I'm Not Yours."
Icarus
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Date: 2006-09-27 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-27 07:07 pm (UTC)Icarus
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Date: 2006-09-27 12:15 pm (UTC)Silly man. Though it's definitely one way to look at the events in canon and I'm sure they would have exactly that problem with real soldiers...as well as way more swearing in the show. :P
Cool!
And because you said you're still editing, I noticed a couple of typos:
made his way up the sweep of stairs to Dr. Weir's office. " He's not going be happy. Should be "TO" be happy
...you were the first contact team and I hope you can to shed some light on what's going on." Take out the "TO"
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Date: 2006-09-27 07:11 pm (UTC)Ah, so we finally get the "John Screws Up" story. I was wondering how that would go. :)
That's the first half. I promise you that it gets much worse.
Silly man. Though it's definitely one way to look at the events in canon and I'm sure they would have exactly that problem with real soldiers...as well as way more swearing in the show. :P
Oh yeah. Things are about to get very complicated. I'm sure that the original expedition had a more balanced male/female ratio, simply because they figured there was a chance they'd be stranded, but once the Daedalus brought reinforcements? Slowly the population skews male.
And because you said you're still editing, I noticed a couple of typos:
made his way up the sweep of stairs to Dr. Weir's office. " He's not going be happy. Should be "TO" be happy
...you were the first contact team and I hope you can to shed some light on what's going on." Take out the "TO"
Why do I have an image of the "TO" wandering around the page, reshuffling itself as I slept? :D
Icarus
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Date: 2006-09-28 04:34 am (UTC)I don't think canon!John would be quite so callous and stupid not to think of the consequences of his actions, but it's a very natural setup if he ever did become more, well, promiscuous. I love the way you presented others' reactions, particularly Elizabeth's and the mission she sends Lorne on, and the way John starts to realize what he's done when he sees his baby. Teyla's negotiating was very skillful too;)
I can't wait to see where you go with this!
no subject
Date: 2006-09-29 04:06 am (UTC)I love the way you presented others' reactions, particularly Elizabeth's and the mission she sends Lorne on
Elizabeth in a way represents the woman's view of all this. *nods* Lorne is not a happy camper right now. Talk about an awkward position to be in with your commanding officer.
I don't think canon!John would be quite so callous and stupid not to think of the consequences of his actions
Oh, he's not callous. He genuinely cares about these women (okay, he and the redhead didn't hit it off but that happens when you have sex before there's enough of a relationship to know you're not compatible - personal experience). I've noticed women think that promiscuity is callous but men don't view it that way.
As for not talking to her first, he was letting Teyla advise him and then things just... went....
Okay, he was avoiding the red-haired girlfriend, but that's because he figured she must be really, really pissed off at him. Self-preservation.
As for the consequences, it's never been a problem before. Certainly wasn't on Earth. But more on that later: Carson wants to have a little chat.
it's a very natural setup if he ever did become more, well, promiscuous.
Oh, he's promiscuous all right. Not any more than the next guy, but of course if the opportunity presents itself he'll sleep with a woman, sure. *counts on fingers* There was Chaya, the woman in "Epiphany," the woman in "The Tower," then his relentless competitive flirting in "Inferno." And we get only the smallest cross section of their missions. He flirted with Teyla from the get-go, notices who she's attracted to in "McKay & Mrs. Miller," and stands deep within Elizabeth's space in "The Real World."
Granted, he's dorky, but good-looking dorky guys do get laid. It just happens like this (when he's expecting to impress her):
*giggles* "You're cute. Your place or mine?"
*cue John's nonplussed look* "Um. Your place? Unless you don't mind the dirty underwear... you know, I really shouldn't say that."
Teyla's negotiating was very skillful too
Teyla's very talented. :D
Icarus
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Date: 2006-09-29 04:34 am (UTC)Huh, you think so? I'm not sure I can see that. I guess I just feel that if you have a one night stand and then leave rarely, if ever, to be seen again, you don't really care about that person. However, I have little experience with these things so I could be completely wrong;)
I've noticed women think that promiscuity is callous but men don't view it that way.
Also interesting. And probably very true. This fic is turning out to be very thought-provoking!
no subject
Date: 2006-09-29 05:57 am (UTC)Oh no, I have very fond memories of a certain kayaker I met while he was working on his bike. We talked about five minutes. I always admire a guy who's mechanically handy.
We bumped into each other later at the store, he was leaving with beer, I was going in. I laughed and said, "do you have one for me?" and he offered. His placed was trashed and he was going to Nepal (he hoped). It didn't take long to end up in the bedroom (mostly because that was his only piece of furniture).
I'd smile if I saw him again and be glad to see him -- if I recognized him at all. I'm afraid he'd have to have his shirt off for that.
He got a friend to slip me a note under my door when he found a new place a few weeks later, but I didn't call. Sometimes you don't want to spoil it with reality. Plus, he was ten years younger than me and I could tell it would never work. But for a one-night stand? Dazzling.
Icarus
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Date: 2006-09-29 02:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-22 01:58 am (UTC)I kinda got the sense that he felt like he and the other women were using each other in an equal, mutual fashion, and I love that you left whether or not he was *right* about that completely open
no subject
Date: 2008-08-22 02:12 am (UTC)This is what I've always wanted from kidfic - the awkwardness, the potential ramifications, the embarassment.
Me, too. :D
I have six more scenes of this story ready to post. I've been wondering if I should go ahead.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-22 02:49 am (UTC)