atlantisbasics | Beware of the Pretty People

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Recipient:

stillane
Title: Beware of the Pretty People (working title)
Author: Moonloon
Rating: PG13
Category: McKay/Sheppard (maybe some McKay/Norina if you squint)
Spoilers: Most of S2.
Summary: Well, it was supposed to be about an ancient cemetery, but it sort of... isn't.

Note: Thanks to

rivier for the beta.

Beware of the Pretty People

A very small part of John marvelled at what a girlish scream Rodney had. Of course, the other 99% was busy clicking off the safety on his sidearm and sprinting to the rescue. He skidded around a corner, weapon raised, just in time to see little Miko Kusanagi doing her very best impression of a damsel in distress in Rodney's manly arms.

Rodney, of course, had a vaguely puzzled expression on his face. You would think by now he'd have caught a clue, but no.

John grinned; not Rodney's girlish scream. This time. "There was screaming?" John said, unwilling to lower his guard quite yet. They were in a part of the city labelled 'miscellaneous research facilities', which really... sounded like so much potential for disaster.

Miko wailed, clutched Rodney tighter, and wiggled one tiny finger at the doorway to another lab. John poked his head through the door, and the room slowly lit up, revealing more stasis pods. Occupied ones. Only this time the people in the pods were relatively young and had their eyes open.

Creepy.

John clicked on his radio "Carson? I think we're going to need you down here."

~

"So why haven't they aged?" Rodney asked, poking at some circuitry.

Carson hmmed at the readout beside the nearest pod. "Because they're not in suspended animation. They're dead."

"They don't look very dead," John said. He'd seen lots of dead people; they didn't normally look like they'd just stepped out of a designer underwear ad.

"I'm going to need to get someone to translate this, but I think they all died from a fast-acting... um, is that virus... or some kind of infection, and they were put in preservative stasis within seconds of death." Carson tapped at his screen. "I don't know why they kept the bodies, or why the units are still running."

"Batteries," Rodney said, looking up from the circuitry. "Rechargeable Ancient batteries. These units have much lower power requirements than the kind Elizabeth was in, so they have energy cells hooked up to the tidal power generators on the east pier. Conceivably, they could run forever. Or at least until the sea dries up."

"Could we wake one of them up?" John asked, "Like in that Next Generation ep..."

"The Neutral Zone! Yes!" Rodney jumped up and leaned over Carson. "The one with the cryogenically frozen dead people, and Dr Crusher cured them of..."

Carson glared at them. "Yes, because I have vastly superior medical technology at my disposal."

John felt a spark of disappointment, but cheered up at the sight of Rodney's always-amusing slump of utterly depressed defeat.

Carson patted Rodney on the shoulder. "Sorry, Rodney, but if the Ancients couldn't cure them, neither can I. And I'm not cracking open any of these pods when I don't even know if the infectious agent is still active or not."

~

"Here I am, living in a floating city ten times cooler than the Enterprise, and medical science is still voodoo." Rodney picked up a muffin and eyed it critically. "Here, sniff this."

John sniffed the muffin. "Blackcurrants?"

"Damn."

John swiped the muffin out of Rodney's hand and put it on his own tray. "Even if we revived one of those guys, he'd probably refuse to help us. I bet the Ancients had some kind of prime directive." John looked around for an empty table. "See how difficult it is to get your hands on any of their tech. And when you do have it, you need to have the gene to use it. That couldn't just be because of the Wraith."

Rodney shrugged. "I suppose so."

John caught a glimpse of Dr Brown sitting across the room, waving hopefully in Rodney's direction. Fortunately Rodney was still scowling at the muffin selection, so John managed to get between them and manoeuvre Rodney to an empty table near the window.

"What are you so happy about?" Rodney asked.

'Avoiding your excruciatingly dull sort-of-but-not-really girlfriend' wasn't a prudent answer, because it would only remind Rodney that he quite liked Dr Brown. "Muffins!"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Citric-poison muffins."

~

Norina stepped through the Stargate, and John felt the tension in the room crank up a notch. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had a competitive nature, and Norina's attraction to both himself and Rodney was something that brought out the worst in him. He plastered his very best scoring smile onto his face, and elbowed Rodney to one side.

"Norina! We've missed you."

"Colonel, it is good to see you." Norina smiled at him, then immediately turned to Rodney with a wider smile. "Dr McKay, I have excellent news; we have heard that the Msiri have the remains of another ship like the Orion. It's in pieces, but they say they will allow us to salvage parts in exchange for medical supplies."

Rodney almost bounced. "Another Ancient ship! This is wonderful! There are some parts we just don't have the knowledge to fabricate ourselves. When are we leaving?"

"Whoa there, McKay," John said, holding up a hand. You're not going anywhere until we've checked this out. Norina and I can visit these... Misery people and find out of it's worth..."

"Oh please." Rodney rolled his eyes. "If you want to tag along, just say so. We'll need someone to carry any useful parts back anyway. It might as well be you."

~

Staggering back through the Stargate, under the weight of something that had made Rodney gurgle, John arbitrarily decided that the McKay/Sheppard off-world Norina-attracting competition was a draw. So far. McKay was probably up on points, but John had seen Norina's eyes light up when he'd hauled up both sacks of small parts without wincing as they left. The last point always scored higher. He was going to have to get someone to rub Deep Heat into his back if he wanted to be able to move in the morning, but it had definitely been worth it.

Or so he thought until he turned around to ask Norina if she'd like to get something to eat, and saw her disappearing down the hall, following McKay like a damned puppy.

"Here," John said, handing the sacks off to two Marines, "Take these down to McKay's lab. And try to drop one of them on his foot, okay?"

~

John was staring at the dead people. He probably looked too emo for words, but really he was trying to spot anything that might make it easier to identify Ancients in the future. According to the reports he'd received from the SGC, they did appear from time to time, and he wanted to be ready.

So far the only distinguishing feature they had in common was physical attractiveness. John wondered how the Marines would react to a 'beware of pretty people' memo.

"My people have a legend of the Lantean Sleepers." Norina's voice drifted out of the shadows, and John managed not to leap a foot in the air.

"I didn't realize you were there," John said, turning and smiling.

Norina smiled back. "The story goes that fifty of the most brilliant scientists went mad one day. And at every change of the tide they would try to kill someone. If they failed, they died, and if they succeeded, they lived to kill another day." She turned and brushed her hand over one of the pods. "The other Lanteans captured the mad ones and, at the moment the tide turned, froze them forever in an enchanted tomb, waiting for the day someone found a cure."

"They'll be waiting a while longer," John said.

Norina turned and nodded. "Yes, I suppose they will. I never imagined the legend was true."

"Not entirely true," John said, slipping an arm around Norina's waist. "There are only thirty-six of them."

Norina looked down at John's arm, confusion spreading across her face. "I wonder what happened to the other fourteen," she murmured.

"Nothing good, I'm sure," John said, leaning closer.

Their faces were just an inch apart when Norina took a step backward, out of John's arms. "I should go."

~

John stood on the balcony above the Stargate as Rodney said goodbye to Norina. It was almost painful to watch the way they clumsily bounced from too formal to too friendly and back again. Just when John thought they might actually get as far as kissing, Rodney chickened out and shook her hand.

Major Lorne wandered over and grinned down at the couple. "The mating dance of the geek. Horrifying, isn't it?"

John smothered a un-officerly giggle and tried to look stern. He could tell from Lorne's expression he'd failed.

~

"So... you made a pass at Norina and she turned you down." Rodney was being unbearably smug.

John blinked over the rim of his coffee mug. "I bet you didn't do any better."

Rodney got even smugger, which John would have thought was impossible. "I don't kiss and tell, Colonel."

Suddenly John was really pissed off. He slammed his mug down on the mess hall table, ignored Rodney's yelp of pain as hot coffee splashed over his hands, and marched out.

~

He managed to avoid Rodney for almost two days, before finally getting trapped in Puddlejumper five.

Rodney marched into the Jumper and tugged open one of the access panels and started poking at the crystals inside. "I'm sorry if you're annoyed she chose me over you, and to be honest I'm as surprised as you are she did, but really... don't you think it's time you got over it?"

John glared at Rodney. "Of course she chose you, you idiot."

"What?" Rodney narrowed his eyes and put down his tools. "I'm not the one who has pretty girls throwing themselves at my feet every time I step through the gate."

"No, you're just the one they pine after once they get to know you! I can't believe how clueless you are. Look at the women who chase after you: Miko, Katie, Allina, Norina... what do they all have in common? They're all extremely intelligent women, who fell for you after they got to know you."

Rodney looked shocked. "Um..."

"So a few girls come on to me off-world. How many of them have known me for more than five minutes before they decide to offer up the goods? And how long do they stick around afterwards?"

"Well... there were..."

"The ones that turned into vapour. They don't count." John sighed and got out of the pilot seat. "Sorry. I'm going to go," he waved at the exit, "and have some lunch. Or jump off the east pier or something."

"You really wanted Norina that badly?" Rodney asked.

Without thinking, John replied, "I never really wanted her, I just didn't want her to have you." Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he backed out of the Jumper and tried very hard to forget the look of total surprise on Rodney's face.

~

The next morning John was drinking his coffee when Rodney dropped into the seat opposite with that smug grin on his face again. John had a déjà vu moment, until Rodney opened his mouth.

"So... you like me. Which means you're either suffering from a sudden sexual identity crisis, or you're really repressed. Because we've known each other for two years, and I didn't know."

John rolled his eyes. "Yes. I'm repressed. And it's been working really well for the last twenty years. And if you don't mind, I'd really like to stay that way." He waited until Rodney opened his mouth to reply, and then interrupted him. "Because you're not totally clueless when it comes to picking up cues from people who're attracted to you, are you?"

Rodney closed his mouth and thought about it for a moment. "Oh, yes. Well, that's true enough I suppose." Then he blinked. "Do I really have crowds of intelligent women lusting after me?" Rodney looked far too pleased at the idea. "And men too?"

John put his coffee down. "You don't really expect me to answer that, do you?"

"Mmm, no. I suppose not. They're the competition, aren't they?"

"Right now they're welcome to you."

Their conversation was interrupted by Carson, who sat down and started shovelling his breakfast into his mouth. "Oh God, I think they're real eggs."

"Really?" Rodney was up out of his seat and heading to the serving area before he'd finished speaking.

Carson grinned at John. "Nothing guaranteed to get Rodney moving faster than food."

John nodded, pretending he hadn't made a bee-line for the mess as soon as his source on the Daedalus had let him know that they'd transported six crates of eggs straight into the kitchen.

Carson waved his fork at John. "I meant to ask you about blocking off access to the tombs."

"Tombs?"

"The lab where the dead Ancients are stored." Carson put down his fork. "According to the database, they were infected with some sort of cybernetic disease. It's sort of a cross between the nanovirus we found on the lower levels labs, and a genetically engineered retrovirus. The Ancient doctors who made notes on it said it was impossible to shift. As soon as you killed one half of the organism, the other side self-destructed, taking the victim with it. I can't be sure if it's not still active, and the notes relating to communicability were a bit garbled. Best if we just seal it off."

Seal what off?" Rodney asked, reappearing with two breakfasts.

John raised his eyebrows. "Hungry?"

Rodney gave John an 'are you insane' look. "Colonel... Real. Eggs."

"We're sealing off the section with the Ancient tombs," Carson said. "If you want to run any more tests down there, I suggest you do it today."

"No, I'm done," Rodney said through a mouthful of eggs. "I suppose you want to keep the power from the tidal generators going in there, even after it's sealed?"

"Unless you want nasty wee cybernetic micro-organisms rampaging around down there?" Carson moved from his eggs to the bacon. "Oh God, Danish bacon..."

John sat and sipped his coffee, grinning as the conversation segued into Carson and Rodney debating the merits of Canadian bacon.

~

John made one final circuit of the lab, saying a silent goodbye to the Ancients, before meeting up with Rodney, who was staring at one of the pods.

"It would have been so cool if we could have woken them up," Rodney said.

"Yeah," John said.

Rodney was gazing up at a tall blonde Ancient with pouty lips and wide blue eyes. They're all so... hot."

"Gah! McKay! They're corpses." John made a face. "Please don't tell me you're into doing dead people."

"I'm not going to climb into a pod, but if they were alive..." Rodney sighed. "I counted. Twenty five out of thirty six meet the Rodney McKay Standard of Fuc... um. Well, I'd date most of them. As long as they weren't stupid."

John raised his eyebrows. "There are only nineteen women."

Rodney pointed at one of the men, another tall faired-haired example. "When you're that hot, gender is irrelevant."

"Cool," John said, smiling widely.

They walked back around to the door, and Rodney fiddled with the crystals. The doors slid shut, and after a small shower of sparks, Rodney pulled the crystals out. "That should do. The door thinks there's a difference in air pressure, so even if someone repairs the locking mechanism, the fail-safe will keep the doors shut."

"What if we found a cure?"

Rodney shrugged. "I doubt that'll happen, and even if it does, the people in there are dead, the chances of successfully reviving them are pretty slim."

John turned to face Rodney. "That sucks."

"So... are you doing anything now?" Rodney asked.

"I suppose I should check Ronon hasn't broken any Marines. He and Sergeant Mallory are teaching each other new ways to kill people with one finger." John turned and waited for Rodney to follow him.

"And you're not interested? Or do you already know all the ways to kill people with one finger?"

John grinned. "There's a lot of... demonstration involved when Ronon's teaching. I'd rather not have the men under my command aware that they could all kick my ass."

Rodney snorted. "Oh please. I've seen you fight."

"Rodney, they're Marines. I'm a pilot. They were trained to kill people with their hands, I was trained to sit in a very expensive machine and press buttons."

"Oh. Huh." Rodney thought about it for a moment. "The Marines just got a little scarier."

"Don't worry about it. Ronon can kick their asses three at a time," John said.

"I knew there was a reason I shared my M&Ms with him."

"Do you want to come and watch?" John asked.

Rodney shook his head. "Watching Marines grunt and sweat all over each other isn't my idea of a good time." There was ten seconds of loaded silence. "Um. That came out wrong."

John burst out laughing. "No kidding."

"Really, I don't have a problem with men... sweating on each other." Rodney started waving his arms around, which wasn't unusual, but John could tell from the speed he was panicking. "I've even done my share, back before I developed this mysterious quality that you seem to think attracts intelligent women."

"Really?" John was suddenly fascinated.

"It may surprise you to learn that despite huge leaps forward in women's liberation, they're still fairly thin on the ground in the physics departments of most universities. Given the choice between becoming one of those nerds who lose their virginity at 35 with a hooker, or one of the guys who took advantage of their lab partner while he was high from lack of sleep and too much Jolt, I went for the latter." Rodney smiled, lost in memory. "Of course, he took advantage of me when I drunk after I found out I got funding for the... um... thing I'm still not allowed to talk about. It worked out quite well. Until he got head hunted by MIT, the poaching bastards."

They reached the transporter, and Rodney stepped in. "So, anyway. Do you want to..." He made a hand gesture that could have meant anything.

John considered it for a moment. 'Anything' could be 'watch Marines getting beaten up', 'take a Puddlejumper up for a joyride', or... best case scenario, 'come back to my room and let me blow you'. There was really only one answer. "Okay," John said, and stepped into the transporter.

Current Mood: rushed

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From:

thepouncer.livejournal.com

*loves*

I don't know what you were angsting over. This was hilarious and delightful and I could see the two of them, awkwardly trying to hide things from each other all the while. And the end is so full of possibilities that I'm giggly and smiley.

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Beware of the Pretty People

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