The Taste of Apples by Auburn [Reviews - 51]
Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Category: Slash Pairings > McKay/Sheppard
Characters: Aiden Ford, Carson Beckett, Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan
Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Pre-slash, Team
Warnings: None
Series: None
Word count: 66357; Completed: Yes
Summary: It ran between the fingers of his memory.
Spoilers: Possibly for anything through Rising through The Brotherhood.
The first breath after stepping through the gate always seemed deeper, stranger, something foreign flooding into the lungs. It wasn't anything anyone admitted to out loud, but they all felt it sometimes, that they were all so far from home and the very air was wrong.
The second breath usually came easier.
Usually.
Sheppard pulled alien air deep into him, fighting the urge to hold his breath instead.
The atmosphere of MX9-M41 wrapped around them like a wet blanket, clammy wool warm, mold musty and thick on the back of the tongue, heavy with moisture that immediately began soaking them to the skin.
Teyla and Ford fanned out automatically. McKay brought out a hand held scanner and began quartering back and forth, searching for energy readings. Sheppard stayed with him, one hand resting on the butt of his P90 out of habit born from experience.
Moisture already beaded on Sheppard's black aviator glasses. It darkened McKay's head and dripped from the tips of Teyla's hair. Ford wiped his palm against his already damp BDUs uselessly.
McKay grimaced and swiped his fingers over the active read out.
"Anything?" Sheppard asked. He slipped off the glasses and tucked them into a pocket on his vest while squinting against the opalescent light that reached through the thick cloud cover.
"Many things, I'm sure, Major," McKay snapped back. He frowned at the scanner before shrugging. "Or, really, not much. There's a small energy spike," he pointed, "that way."
Sheppard's eyebrow rose. "Thataway?"
"Yes, Major, thataway," McKay said, sounding peeved.
"Precise directions there, Doctor McKay."
"Let's just do this so I can get back my lab and oh, a few unimportant tasks there, like saving the city." McKay rocked back on his heels, smiling to himself. "Again."
Ford ducked his head, hiding a smile.
"Major?" McKay prompted.
Sheppard narrowed his eyes. His hair was plastered to his head already. Sticky sweat gathered under his arms and down his back under the weight of his flak vest and pack. Getting off of MX9-M41 sounded good to him.
"I'm ready to go," McKay declared, insufferably pleased with himself for wrong-footing Sheppard.
'I'll get you,' Sheppard mouthed at him. "Then, by all means, let's go," he said aloud. He looked around and grimaced. "It is worth checking this out, right?"
McKay wiped his forehead. "It will be if we find a fully or even half charged ZPM."
"Okay." Sheppard tried to shrug his pack into a more comfortable position and said, "Let's move out."
"Sir, maybe we ought take a navigational fix first?" Ford suggested quietly.
Sheppard's eyebrow rose. You too, Ford?
"Lieutenant?"
Ford backpedaled quickly. "I mean, just look at this place." He waved at the dull vista stretching in every direction from the Stargate.
The gate stood at the center of a vast, pale plain. Unvariegated, light brown-gray, it was dotted at regular intervals by unnervingly identical columns of some charcoal brown material. In the distance, a white plume of steam rose from a natural geyser.
"If it's like this everywhere, once we're out of sight of it, I wouldn't bet anyone could find their way back to the gate, sir," Ford said.
Sheppard's lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. Nice save, he thought.
McKay rolled his eyes. "We can always use the scanner to find the Stargate. It's probably the most powerful energy reading on this benighted planet. Can we just get on with it? There's mold growing on us already."
"Teyla?"
"It would be wise to be cautious," she said. "I know nothing of this world."
Sheppard nodded to Ford to go ahead.
"There's nothing to know," McKay muttered. '"It's the most boring world we've ever set foot on."
"Excuse me for not consulting the Michelin Guide to the Pegasus Galaxy and only planning missions to the four star planets," Sheppard replied. A half smile lifted his mouth and his eyes glinted.
"No," McKay said immediately. He frowned exaggeratedly. "I demand my money back."
"I can't believe an allegedly brilliant man like yourself didn't read the fine print, Doctor: no returns."
"We'll see about that once I find a fully charged ZPM."
"So, Rodney, what was that direction you told us about?" Sheppard asked. As usual, a little snap and snarl with the irascible scientist had improved his mood. He liked the sarcasm and bitter wit McKay brought to every situation, even the insults and complaints. McKay simply let fly with the internal monologue most people censored. "Thataway?"
He turned a slow circle, thinking the utter sameness did disturb a person.
They had no shadows, no stars or sun to guide them, in the half light of the day.
McKay checked his scanner again and started forward. Sheppard accompanied him, stepping off the metal apron the Stargate sat upon and onto the pallid, almost smooth appearing earth. The soles of McKay's boots sank into it immediately. So did Sheppard's.
"Teyla," he commanded, "take point. Ford, you have our six."
Teyla nodded silently and moved ahead of them with long, easy strides.
"Ugh," Ford commented a moment later.
Sheppard turned and walked backwards, trusting McKay to warn him of anything in their path. He looked inquiringly at Ford, who was glowering at his boots.
Maybe finding their way back to the gate wouldn't have been a problem anyway. Their boots left sunken, dark tracks that showed no signs of disappearing soon.
"Ford?"
"It's spooshy," Ford said. "The ground, sir."
"Spooshy?" McKay echoed. "Don't get too technical there, Lieutenant. It's some sort of ground cover. Like ice plant, only... not." He donned gloves, crouched and scooped a sample into a vial. It was actually a semi-transparent mat of thin, hair-like growths. Pressure bruised the almost fleshy sprouts; they had a high moisture content apparently and broke easily under his fingers.
"What would you call it, Rodney?" Sheppard asked. "Because I'm favoring 'smooshed', myself."
McKay studied the damp, sap-like stains on his gloves. He shrugged, carefully stripped off the gloves and slipped them into a containment bag that sealed and went into a pocket. Dr. Fayruz had lectured him repeatedly on proper protocol in alien environments, but he was still an astrophysicist, not a xenobiologist, and he forgot half the time. The rest of the team tended to be cavalier too: Sheppard and Ford were military and Teyla was just used to waltzing through the Stargate on trade missions for her people. They all tried, but if they'd followed all of Ghulzur Fayruz' precautions, they'd never have stepped through the Stargate at all.
"Gummy?"
"Gooshy," Ford said immediately.
Sheppard faced forward again, catching up to walk parallel to McKay in three strides.
"Gooey," he said.
"Yucky."
"Pasty," McKay offered fast.
Ahead of them, Teyla laughed quietly.
"Slimy."
"Squishy."
"Muddy."
"You're the Marine, Ford," Sheppard corrected. "You should know this is not muddy. Even an Air Force airhead knows mud is sticky and up to your knees."
"Exactly how does a flyboy know mud?" McKay asked. "Aren't you supposed to be above that?" He looked at Sheppard expectantly. "What exactly were you doing down in the dirt?"
Sheppard smiled his open, easy going smile, the one he used to hide things.
"Survival school."
"Hmph. You must have been at the bottom of your class."
Sheppard shrugged. He'd been in the middle, just where he always tried to be, putting in just enough effort to keep from drawing attention through failure. The only thing he'd ever let himself noticeably excel at had been flying.
Their course brought them slowly closer to one of the tree-like growths that speckled the plain at unnervingly even intervals. The flat expanse they traversed had fooled the eye, the sheer size of the growths making them seem closer than they were.
An hour passed, punctuated by McKay's complaints about walking everywhere when they could have flown the jumper. His feet hurt. His pack was too heavy. The flak vest Sheppard insisted he wear under his gear vest on off-world missions chafed. The weird, low light glare was giving him a headache. His blood sugar was getting low--that got him a power bar from Sheppard, because he didn't want his favorite scientist keeling over from a hypoglycemic reaction. He proffered it with an indulgent expression, but he'd got the Beckett lecture the first time he proposed taking McKay off planet; he knew he had to take McKay seriously about that. Thus Sheppard had taken to carrying a couple extra just for McKay--not that he admitted it.
The growths didn't resemble trees when approached. There were no limbs or leaves , just a charcoal-brown column the girth of a thousand year old sequoia spiking into the misty sky. Absolutely no sign of chlorophyll or anything equivalent to it.
The ground around it showed the first difference they'd seen since leaving the Stargate. Dust piled in little, cinnamon drifts in a circle around the towering monolith. It boiled up in puffs under their boots, adhering to the sticky goo smearing the soles and uppers.
The surface was uneven. At first it looked like bark, but a second look revealed an almost fleshy texture. It was honeycombed with hollows ranging from the size of heads to boulders. The edges were faintly darker and fine enough that they seemed to breathe and flutter. The same brown dust clung to them.
McKay stuck his hand out.
"Don't do that," Sheppard snapped. "Don't touch it."
McKay snatched his hand back and glared. "What? I'm five years old? Have you ever seen anything like this, Major? I'm the scientist here. Please, stick to polishing your guns and let me do my job."
Sheppard shrugged and said, "Could be acid or poisonous, you know. Those could even be mouths or have some sort of creature living in them like nests. Like you said, I've never seen anything like it. Be my guest though, since you're the smartest man in the galaxy. I'm sure I'm wrong."
"Mouths?" McKay squeaked. He danced back from the monolith, arms wavering, looking horrified. "Mouths?" He eyed the monolith with a good deal more suspicion, but straightened his shoulders after a moment. "Of course, you're wrong, Major."
Sheppard eyed him, noting McKay hadn't approached too close again. "If you say so."
Ford tipped his head up, dark eyes squinting even under the bill of his cap.
"You know," he said, "This thing reminds me of a mushroom."
"A mushroom," McKay repeated scornfully. "It's four storeys tall and wider than a Buick. What have you been smoking, Lieutenant? Please leave the xenobotany to the professionals."
"Isn't that soft science, McKay?" Sheppard interjected.
"Uhm, but have you seen Dr. Selig? He'll break me into little tiny pieces if I don't bring back samples for him. Nina Mizaki is even worse. Lock her in a room with a Wraith and she'd probably suck the life out it," McKay said.
He accompanied his words with pulling out gloves and sample vials. "Do something useful, Major. Hold these."
Sheppard took the vials.
McKay carefully tore a chunk of gray-brown material off the monolith, dropping it into the open vial Sheppard proffered helpfully. A cloud of the brown dust flew up and settled on him. He blew out a loud breath, sending the still hovering stuff onto Sheppard.
Sheppard choked and coughed. "Oh, great, thanks, Rodney."
McKay ignored him.
"There's something hard underneath this, which makes sense because anything this size would require a support system to keep from collapsing under its own weight," McKay said. He bounced on his heels a little. "Gravity feels approximately the same as Earth and Atlantis. Do you suppose the Ancients only established gates in orbit or on planets within a narrow gravitic spectrum? No use putting one in the gravity well of a gas giant or something unless there was something there they wanted. Even with their technology a high gravity planet would be hell to work on."
"McKay, can we save the speculation for when we get back to Atlantis? We still have to hike to wherever your energy reading is and back."
McKay examined the area where he'd taken the sample.
"I need something to pry some of this loose."
Sheppard unsheathed the combat knife he carried at the back of his belt and offered it. McKay's Adam's apple bobbed as he took it, eyes locked on the dull gleam of the blade. He took it tentatively, clearly steeling himself to do so.
Sheppard raised an eyebrow, wondering if he hadn't just made McKay flashback to being tortured with a similar blade. He hadn't acted bothered by knives before, but that could have been bravado.
"Well, I suppose this will do," McKay said. He set the knife point to the spot where he'd taken the first sample and began prying.
Nothing happened.
"Come on, McKay."
"This material is harder than it looks!" McKay complained. He pried harder. Tendons strained in his neck.
A small chunk cracked off, flying past Ford's shoulder to fall on the pale ground. The sound that accompanied it was the distinct crunch of a bug under a boot. McKay stumbled back and Sheppard steadied him with one hand.
"Wow."
Sheppard arched his eyebrows, smiling. "Wow?"
"Okay, okay, I wasn't expecting that," McKay admitted.
He gestured carelessly, forgetting the knife still in his hand. Sheppard dodged away.
"Ah, you want to hand that back, Rodney?"
"What?" McKay looked at the knife in his hand. "Oh. Here." He held it out.
Sheppard took it back, wiped the brown dust on it off on the leg of his BDUs and slid it back into the sheath.
McKay fished up the sample from the ground. He studied it, turning it in his hands. "This looks a little like chitin," he said thoughtfully.
Sheppard checked it out over his shoulder. "Bug shells?"
"That would be acetylglucosamine. This could just as likely be chitosan, a polymer composed of pure glucosamine. Presuming, of course, that this planet boasts anything like glucoaminoglycans in the first place. I said it looked like chitin."
McKay sounded annoyed, as usual, frowning down at the sample.
Sheppard held out the sample vial.
McKay dropped the sample inside, sealed and then stashed it with the other vial in his vest.
"Major, we should all drink some water," Teyla said. "It would be easy to become dehydrated, despite the moisture in the air."
"Like spending too long in a sauna."
"Please, save me from the image of you in nothing but a towel, Major," McKay said, rolling his eyes. He'd stripped off his gloves with a snap and was unconsciously massaging his arm where Kolya had used a knife on him months before.
"Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings."
Ford snickered.
"Get over yourself, Major."
"Look, let's just do what Teyla said and then keep moving."
Sheppard suited his actions to his words, taking a drink from his canteen, then walking away.
McKay waited a beat then called out.
"Wrong direction."
Sheppard elaborately pulled out his binoculars and peered around. Once they were returned to their case, he waved at McKay.
"Lead on, Rodney."
McKay checked his scanner and started out.
"I just want you to know that if I get foot root because my socks are wet, I expect someone to carry me back to the gate."
"If we find a charged ZPM, I'll carry you piggyback," Sheppard promised.
"No brains, but strong backs. I knew you grunts had to be good for something."
Ford sneezed.
"Dust," he said.
Some of it had settled on all of them, even Teyla. She scrubbed her hand over her bicep thoughtlessly. "I shall be very happy to return to Atlantis and bathe," she admitted.
The three men looked at each other. McKay started to open his mouth. Sheppard started to smile, while Ford mimed 'no, no, no.'
Teyla turned back to them. "Are we waiting for something?"
"Nothing, Teyla," Sheppard said, now grinning.
"Nothing at all," McKay agreed. He pulled out the scanner and pointed out their course.
Ford just ducked his head.
Teyla took point.
McKay waited an extra moment to mutter quietly, "I'd just like to take this moment to express my sheer admiration for what she can do for a pair of BDUs."
"Doctor McKay, that could be construed as sexual harassment."
"This from the Captain Kirk of the Pegasus Galaxy."
They started after her.
"At least let me be Han Solo. Now there was a pilot."
"Just as long as you're not making me Darth Vader."
"Nah," Sheppard said. He bumped his shoulder into McKay's. "You can be C3-PO."
"Oh, thanks ever so much."
Another hour passed before they sighted a difference along the horizon.
Teyla paused.
"Major."
Sheppard scanned with his binoculars again.
"Well?" demanded McKay. "Can we get on with this?"
"Buildings," Sheppard said. He focused on the shapes in the distance. They were the same pale, grayish shade as the ground, only distinguished by the blurred right angles and height from their surroundings. He kept watching, looking for any movement.
McKay fine tuned his scanner's readings.
"Whatever it is, it's there," he said.
"Doesn't look like anyone is home," Sheppard commented.
"No life signs," McKay agreed.
"Good."
They still approached cautiously, each of them except for McKay with their hands on their P90s, ready for trouble. Nothing stirred. The only sounds were the rustle and scrape of canvas and webbing over their clothing, the soft suck of their boots on the strange ground cover, and the distant roar and whoosh of one of the geysers they'd seen dotting the landscape.
The blurred outlines were explained when they saw the ground cover had spread over the buildings, few of which were still intact.
"It's Ancient architecture," McKay declared.
"Oh, you can tell?"
"Yes, Major, I can, as could anyone who used with eyes and a brain," came the peevish reply. "The angles and motifs are the same as we see all over Atlantis. I expect more from you than the mildly retarded five year old act, Major. Pay attention."
Sheppard tapped his fingers on the trigger guard of the P90. "I am paying attention, McKay. I'm paying attention to watching for someone to pop up and point something nasty at us, since that seems to be the preferred meet and greet protocol here in the Pegasus Galaxy."
McKay was intent on his scanner, trying to discover which building housed the energy signature they'd tracked. He waved a hand in Sheppard's direction as though brushing off a fly.
"Right, right, whatever. It's in there." He pointed at low building that looked to have been mostly intact before being grown over.
"So how do we get inside, oh great McKay?"
"How about, 'Open Sesame'?"
Sheppard snorted and concentrated, trying to feel the interface that his ATA gene made possible with most Ancient technology.
The Ancients built to last. The door slid open quietly, accompanied by the suck and plop of bits of overgrowth dropping away from it.
"Cool."
"See, it still has power."
"Doesn't mean it has a ZPM."
McKay started for the door. Sheppard trailed him, bemused as always when the technology recognized his gene and lit the interior for him.
"Ford," he called over his shoulder, "You and Teyla keep watch out here. If we're not out before that, we'll check in by radio every hour on the hour."
"Yes sir."
Ford nodded and settled in a parade position as first Doctor McKay and then the Major's crow-dark head disappeared into the building. Teyla took a position that let her watch Ford's blind spot. They both found the silence oppressive, but any attempt at conversation even worse: their voices sounded too loud in the pervasive stillness.
Inside, the building lacked Atlantis' grace and stained glass, but the walls and the floors were familiar in color and material. McKay was right. The decorations shared the same motifs as well.
Their boots left wet prints on the faded red floor, the first to pass there in ten thousand years if the building dated to the same period as Atlantis itself. The air felt stale and warm, but some kind of circulation system had to be in operation. If it had been sealed without one, they would have been choking already.
McKay was like a hound dog on a scent, following the readings on his scanner down a series of corridors.
Sheppard kept throwing looks over his shoulder, just because he felt he should, though there had been no sign of anything, animal, vegetable or mineral, hostile since they came through the gate. It was making him nervous.
"I don't know, does this all seem like it's just a little bit too easy?" he said.
"What, in a 'It's quiet, too quiet' kind of way?"
Sheppard looked sheepish. "Yeah."
"You're paranoid, Major."
"That's what the military specializes in."
"Then you've succeeded beyond your wildest dreams. Even with you leading us, statistically we shouldn't always encounter disaster and doom."
"I thought you were Mr. Gloom and Doom."
"I was until now," McKay said. His voice skipped a third, rising. He waved at what he'd seen. Sheppard followed the gesture. "Look at that. Look at that!"
They turned and faced each other, eyes meeting, disbelief and excitement in their expressions.
It was a ZPM. A ZPM just sitting there on what looked like a lab work table as though to taunt them.
McKay darted forward, a broad grin stretching over his face. "Look at you, you beautiful thing," he crooned as though besotted.
Sheppard laughed.
"I'll start the wedding invitations as soon as we get back," he said.
"What?" McKay frowned at him, bewildered. "Wedding?"
"You and the ZPM. It's true love."
McKay gave him a narrowed eyed look. One hand rested possessively on the ZPM.
"You've finally cracked under the pressure, haven't you?"
Sheppard shook his head, still smiling, something too tight loosening inside him. With a full power ZPM they could power Atlantis's shields and defenses, bring the lost city to full life for the first time since they'd found it. With a full power... Reality crashed back down.
"Can you see if it's any good?" he asked.
Anything this easy... wasn't.
McKay's look of happiness faded somewhat.
"Yes. Give me a few minutes."
He began looking over some of the equipment in the room with them, taking a reading on his scanner after activating several controls, then returning to the ZPM and comparing what he saw with something else. A pinched frown replaced the open delight of a few moments before. Sheppard knew the answer before McKay turned back to him.
"It's mostly depleted. Probably switched out for a fresh one in the installation's security shieldwhich has failedand brought back here," McKay theorized. "There's nothing left here but a minor back-up system operating off a geothermal tap."
"Damn," Sheppard said softly, the coil in his gut pulling tight again. After the one moment of sheer relief, it felt worse. "Damn."
His eyes met McKay's again and saw the same things reflected there. For one moment they'd thought they'd had it, the key to saving Atlantis at least, if not stopping the Wraith, and the feeling of loss was nearly unbearable. All he could do was look away. Neither of them was ready to admit to despair.
McKay's mouth, always expressive, twisted into sneer.
"Too easy, right, Major?"
"Yeah." He dug his fingers through his hair, making him look even more like a ruffled crow. "Yeah, well, who wants easy? We're taking it back with us anyway, right?"
McKay shrugged out of his pack and slipped the depleted ZPM into it. His hands were deft and sure on it.
"Of course. It still holds about a quarter charge. We can at least power up a few more systems. That will take some strain off the naquadah generators and keep those incompetent lackwits masquerading as engineers from blowing us all up next time they're serviced."
His movements sharp and jerky with frustration, McKay stripped off his vest and flak vest and down to his blue shirt. His jacket went into the pack on top of the ZPM. His hands lingered before he zipped it closed and shrugged back into his gear.
Sheppard decided the scientist had the right idea and stripped down to his black T-shirt. He left his vest hanging open, settled his pack back into place and picked up his P90 from the table.
McKay was just staring at the table where the ZPM had sat.
Sheppard checked the time.
"Ten minutes until Ford expects a check-in. You want to poke around in here?"
McKay twitched. He looked around the room. "No," he said. "No, let's just get back to the gate." A wealth of weariness colored his tone.
Tiredly, Sheppard sing-songed, "If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all."
McKay looked at him in disgust.
"Hee Haw? Why is this my life?"
Sheppard's mouth curled upward at one corner.
"It's got to be karma, Rodney. You must have been a bad, bad boy."
"You need to get Heightmeyer to shrink your head, Major."
Sheppard shook his head. "There are just so many ways I could come back on that, I can't choose."
McKay snorted.
They emerged into the shadowless half-light and Sheppard shook his head at Ford's look of inquiry.
"No joy in Mudville," he said.
"There was no ZPM?" Teyla asked.
"We found it, but it's too depleted to do us any real good," McKay explained.
The long hike back to the Stargate stretched through the rest of the afternoon. None of them felt up to talking much in the wake of their disappointment and the silences were long.
They trudged up to the gate in a loose diamond formation, Teyla still in the lead.
"Dial up Atlantis," Sheppard told McKay.
He made a last turn, surveying the unremarkable plain with its distant geysers and strange monoliths. Nothing had changed. Their return tracks were still dark marks in a line toward the horizon, but the ground cover had already erased the signs from their arrival. They had nothing worthwhile to show for the expedition. In a few more hours, it would be like they'd never stepped foot on MX9-M41.
The gate activated with a whoosh, boiling out from the ring for a brief, dangerous moment before the event horizon settled into the deceptive illusion of a brilliant, watery surface suspended within the gate.
Ford activated his IDC.
Their radios crackled to life. "AR-1, this is Atlantis . What is your situation?"
Sheppard activated his radio and responded.
"No luck and we're ready to come back."
"You're all right?"
"There's no one here to shoot at us," Sheppard said. "No one even twisted an ankle."
"Come ahead, AR-1."
"Roger. We're coming through now. Sheppard, out."
He clicked off his radio and followed as McKay, then Ford and Teyla stepped through the gate. One last deep breath, the taste of wool and yeast at the back of his tongue. Sheppard breathed out and walked into the wormhole without looking back.
~~~~~
Elizabeth Weir stood with her arms crossed and watched all four of the team walk out of the wormhole into the gate room unharmed for once. It had become a habit to stand at the observation balcony and greet the teams whenever they returned, even when they weren't under fire or wounded. Today they looked merely tired and wet, hair plastered to their heads and shoulders slumped.
She studied them, taking advantage of a moment when they were unguarded to evaluate the expedition's first team. She could see they were wearing at the edges. Everyone was stressed but these were people out at the sharp edge with every mission. They had a lean and hungry look, like tired predators that had failed at a hunt. Teyla and Ford looked best, but they were younger and carried less responsibility. Even their bones were closer to the skin than ever before. Rodney had thinned down to muscle and feverish eyes, and John Sheppard, always thin, looked--when his masks dropped--gaunt and weary.
The moment passed, the players moved, and the roles were firmly taken up again: Ford grinned cheerfully, Teyla's posture straightened, while Rodney raised his voice in neurotic complaint and John gleefully sniped at him. The afterimage lingered only in Elizabeth's eyes.
Elizabeth leaned over the balcony railing. "Welcome back."
John raised his eyes to her and gave a minute headshake, even as he spoke.
"And so we bid farewell to the planet of wet socks. Which was pretty much a bust, except for the no one trying to kill us part."
"I liked that part," Ford agreed.
"Oh, I think we all did."
"But it did smell like one of Carson's beloved sheep," McKay commented.
"It was uncomfortable," Teyla said.
Elizabeth relaxed, despite the stab of disappointment. She forced a smile. "It's good to have you all back."
"Yes, ma'am," Ford called up to her.
Rodney had already shrugged out of his pack. Teyla was squeezing moisture out of her hair. Sheppard caught Rodney's pack and held it as the scientist unzipped it.
"We did find a depleted ZPM," Rodney said. He pulled the device out of his pack . "If we ever find out how to charge them, it will be useful. We can study it at least. I need to get it down to my lab and test my theory--"
"As soon as you're cleared by Dr. Beckett and debrief, Dr. McKay," Elizabeth directed.
John mock saluted. "Yes, ma'am," he mimicked Ford.
Rodney's expression set in petulance and he protested, "I'm fine and I need to make sure Radek hasn't let one of those incompetent refugees from a Caribbean diploma mill you've saddled me with mess with my experiments again. Let the Major tell you all about hiking over hill and dale. I have important work to do. There's simply no time to waste catering to the Scottish quack's desire to completely exsanguinate me."
John set his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Let's get it over with. For once, no one's going to get stuck in the infirmary. We'll be in and out in less time than it takes to make Elizabeth angry."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at that, but John just smiled carelessly.
Rodney shook John's hand away in annoyance. "Fine."
John shivered in reaction to the temperature contrast between Mx9-M41 and the gate room. Sea air constantly cooled Atlantis and energy conservation kept them from adjusting the environmental controls. Instead you wore sweaters and jackets. Standing around in wet clothes was unpleasant and uncomfortable.
Rodney gave a tentative cough. "I'm probably going to get pneumonia."
John rolled his eyes and Ford covered a grin. Rodney could be frighteningly predictable.
"I expect you in the conference room twenty minutes after Dr. Beckett tells me you're all cleared," Elizabeth said. "Get some dry clothes on, please."
Teyla gave her a grateful smile as the four of them left the gate room. Rodney still clutched the depleted ZPM in his hands, while John carried his pack.
"You're not going to get pneumonia, Rodney."
"It's perfectly possible. My lungs are delicate --"
"No germ would want to put up with you."
She heard Rodney's voice rise querulously. "Do you actually think about anything that falls out of your mouth or is your brain completely disconnected from it?"
Elizabeth returned to her office, relieved that they were all home in one piece. The details of the mission could wait a while.
Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Category: Slash Pairings > McKay/Sheppard
Characters: Aiden Ford, Carson Beckett, Elizabeth Weir, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagan
Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Pre-slash, Team
Warnings: None
Series: None
Word count: 66357; Completed: Yes
Summary: It ran between the fingers of his memory.
Spoilers: Possibly for anything through Rising through The Brotherhood.
The first breath after stepping through the gate always seemed deeper, stranger, something foreign flooding into the lungs. It wasn't anything anyone admitted to out loud, but they all felt it sometimes, that they were all so far from home and the very air was wrong.
The second breath usually came easier.
Usually.
Sheppard pulled alien air deep into him, fighting the urge to hold his breath instead.
The atmosphere of MX9-M41 wrapped around them like a wet blanket, clammy wool warm, mold musty and thick on the back of the tongue, heavy with moisture that immediately began soaking them to the skin.
Teyla and Ford fanned out automatically. McKay brought out a hand held scanner and began quartering back and forth, searching for energy readings. Sheppard stayed with him, one hand resting on the butt of his P90 out of habit born from experience.
Moisture already beaded on Sheppard's black aviator glasses. It darkened McKay's head and dripped from the tips of Teyla's hair. Ford wiped his palm against his already damp BDUs uselessly.
McKay grimaced and swiped his fingers over the active read out.
"Anything?" Sheppard asked. He slipped off the glasses and tucked them into a pocket on his vest while squinting against the opalescent light that reached through the thick cloud cover.
"Many things, I'm sure, Major," McKay snapped back. He frowned at the scanner before shrugging. "Or, really, not much. There's a small energy spike," he pointed, "that way."
Sheppard's eyebrow rose. "Thataway?"
"Yes, Major, thataway," McKay said, sounding peeved.
"Precise directions there, Doctor McKay."
"Let's just do this so I can get back my lab and oh, a few unimportant tasks there, like saving the city." McKay rocked back on his heels, smiling to himself. "Again."
Ford ducked his head, hiding a smile.
"Major?" McKay prompted.
Sheppard narrowed his eyes. His hair was plastered to his head already. Sticky sweat gathered under his arms and down his back under the weight of his flak vest and pack. Getting off of MX9-M41 sounded good to him.
"I'm ready to go," McKay declared, insufferably pleased with himself for wrong-footing Sheppard.
'I'll get you,' Sheppard mouthed at him. "Then, by all means, let's go," he said aloud. He looked around and grimaced. "It is worth checking this out, right?"
McKay wiped his forehead. "It will be if we find a fully or even half charged ZPM."
"Okay." Sheppard tried to shrug his pack into a more comfortable position and said, "Let's move out."
"Sir, maybe we ought take a navigational fix first?" Ford suggested quietly.
Sheppard's eyebrow rose. You too, Ford?
"Lieutenant?"
Ford backpedaled quickly. "I mean, just look at this place." He waved at the dull vista stretching in every direction from the Stargate.
The gate stood at the center of a vast, pale plain. Unvariegated, light brown-gray, it was dotted at regular intervals by unnervingly identical columns of some charcoal brown material. In the distance, a white plume of steam rose from a natural geyser.
"If it's like this everywhere, once we're out of sight of it, I wouldn't bet anyone could find their way back to the gate, sir," Ford said.
Sheppard's lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. Nice save, he thought.
McKay rolled his eyes. "We can always use the scanner to find the Stargate. It's probably the most powerful energy reading on this benighted planet. Can we just get on with it? There's mold growing on us already."
"Teyla?"
"It would be wise to be cautious," she said. "I know nothing of this world."
Sheppard nodded to Ford to go ahead.
"There's nothing to know," McKay muttered. '"It's the most boring world we've ever set foot on."
"Excuse me for not consulting the Michelin Guide to the Pegasus Galaxy and only planning missions to the four star planets," Sheppard replied. A half smile lifted his mouth and his eyes glinted.
"No," McKay said immediately. He frowned exaggeratedly. "I demand my money back."
"I can't believe an allegedly brilliant man like yourself didn't read the fine print, Doctor: no returns."
"We'll see about that once I find a fully charged ZPM."
"So, Rodney, what was that direction you told us about?" Sheppard asked. As usual, a little snap and snarl with the irascible scientist had improved his mood. He liked the sarcasm and bitter wit McKay brought to every situation, even the insults and complaints. McKay simply let fly with the internal monologue most people censored. "Thataway?"
He turned a slow circle, thinking the utter sameness did disturb a person.
They had no shadows, no stars or sun to guide them, in the half light of the day.
McKay checked his scanner again and started forward. Sheppard accompanied him, stepping off the metal apron the Stargate sat upon and onto the pallid, almost smooth appearing earth. The soles of McKay's boots sank into it immediately. So did Sheppard's.
"Teyla," he commanded, "take point. Ford, you have our six."
Teyla nodded silently and moved ahead of them with long, easy strides.
"Ugh," Ford commented a moment later.
Sheppard turned and walked backwards, trusting McKay to warn him of anything in their path. He looked inquiringly at Ford, who was glowering at his boots.
Maybe finding their way back to the gate wouldn't have been a problem anyway. Their boots left sunken, dark tracks that showed no signs of disappearing soon.
"Ford?"
"It's spooshy," Ford said. "The ground, sir."
"Spooshy?" McKay echoed. "Don't get too technical there, Lieutenant. It's some sort of ground cover. Like ice plant, only... not." He donned gloves, crouched and scooped a sample into a vial. It was actually a semi-transparent mat of thin, hair-like growths. Pressure bruised the almost fleshy sprouts; they had a high moisture content apparently and broke easily under his fingers.
"What would you call it, Rodney?" Sheppard asked. "Because I'm favoring 'smooshed', myself."
McKay studied the damp, sap-like stains on his gloves. He shrugged, carefully stripped off the gloves and slipped them into a containment bag that sealed and went into a pocket. Dr. Fayruz had lectured him repeatedly on proper protocol in alien environments, but he was still an astrophysicist, not a xenobiologist, and he forgot half the time. The rest of the team tended to be cavalier too: Sheppard and Ford were military and Teyla was just used to waltzing through the Stargate on trade missions for her people. They all tried, but if they'd followed all of Ghulzur Fayruz' precautions, they'd never have stepped through the Stargate at all.
"Gummy?"
"Gooshy," Ford said immediately.
Sheppard faced forward again, catching up to walk parallel to McKay in three strides.
"Gooey," he said.
"Yucky."
"Pasty," McKay offered fast.
Ahead of them, Teyla laughed quietly.
"Slimy."
"Squishy."
"Muddy."
"You're the Marine, Ford," Sheppard corrected. "You should know this is not muddy. Even an Air Force airhead knows mud is sticky and up to your knees."
"Exactly how does a flyboy know mud?" McKay asked. "Aren't you supposed to be above that?" He looked at Sheppard expectantly. "What exactly were you doing down in the dirt?"
Sheppard smiled his open, easy going smile, the one he used to hide things.
"Survival school."
"Hmph. You must have been at the bottom of your class."
Sheppard shrugged. He'd been in the middle, just where he always tried to be, putting in just enough effort to keep from drawing attention through failure. The only thing he'd ever let himself noticeably excel at had been flying.
Their course brought them slowly closer to one of the tree-like growths that speckled the plain at unnervingly even intervals. The flat expanse they traversed had fooled the eye, the sheer size of the growths making them seem closer than they were.
An hour passed, punctuated by McKay's complaints about walking everywhere when they could have flown the jumper. His feet hurt. His pack was too heavy. The flak vest Sheppard insisted he wear under his gear vest on off-world missions chafed. The weird, low light glare was giving him a headache. His blood sugar was getting low--that got him a power bar from Sheppard, because he didn't want his favorite scientist keeling over from a hypoglycemic reaction. He proffered it with an indulgent expression, but he'd got the Beckett lecture the first time he proposed taking McKay off planet; he knew he had to take McKay seriously about that. Thus Sheppard had taken to carrying a couple extra just for McKay--not that he admitted it.
The growths didn't resemble trees when approached. There were no limbs or leaves , just a charcoal-brown column the girth of a thousand year old sequoia spiking into the misty sky. Absolutely no sign of chlorophyll or anything equivalent to it.
The ground around it showed the first difference they'd seen since leaving the Stargate. Dust piled in little, cinnamon drifts in a circle around the towering monolith. It boiled up in puffs under their boots, adhering to the sticky goo smearing the soles and uppers.
The surface was uneven. At first it looked like bark, but a second look revealed an almost fleshy texture. It was honeycombed with hollows ranging from the size of heads to boulders. The edges were faintly darker and fine enough that they seemed to breathe and flutter. The same brown dust clung to them.
McKay stuck his hand out.
"Don't do that," Sheppard snapped. "Don't touch it."
McKay snatched his hand back and glared. "What? I'm five years old? Have you ever seen anything like this, Major? I'm the scientist here. Please, stick to polishing your guns and let me do my job."
Sheppard shrugged and said, "Could be acid or poisonous, you know. Those could even be mouths or have some sort of creature living in them like nests. Like you said, I've never seen anything like it. Be my guest though, since you're the smartest man in the galaxy. I'm sure I'm wrong."
"Mouths?" McKay squeaked. He danced back from the monolith, arms wavering, looking horrified. "Mouths?" He eyed the monolith with a good deal more suspicion, but straightened his shoulders after a moment. "Of course, you're wrong, Major."
Sheppard eyed him, noting McKay hadn't approached too close again. "If you say so."
Ford tipped his head up, dark eyes squinting even under the bill of his cap.
"You know," he said, "This thing reminds me of a mushroom."
"A mushroom," McKay repeated scornfully. "It's four storeys tall and wider than a Buick. What have you been smoking, Lieutenant? Please leave the xenobotany to the professionals."
"Isn't that soft science, McKay?" Sheppard interjected.
"Uhm, but have you seen Dr. Selig? He'll break me into little tiny pieces if I don't bring back samples for him. Nina Mizaki is even worse. Lock her in a room with a Wraith and she'd probably suck the life out it," McKay said.
He accompanied his words with pulling out gloves and sample vials. "Do something useful, Major. Hold these."
Sheppard took the vials.
McKay carefully tore a chunk of gray-brown material off the monolith, dropping it into the open vial Sheppard proffered helpfully. A cloud of the brown dust flew up and settled on him. He blew out a loud breath, sending the still hovering stuff onto Sheppard.
Sheppard choked and coughed. "Oh, great, thanks, Rodney."
McKay ignored him.
"There's something hard underneath this, which makes sense because anything this size would require a support system to keep from collapsing under its own weight," McKay said. He bounced on his heels a little. "Gravity feels approximately the same as Earth and Atlantis. Do you suppose the Ancients only established gates in orbit or on planets within a narrow gravitic spectrum? No use putting one in the gravity well of a gas giant or something unless there was something there they wanted. Even with their technology a high gravity planet would be hell to work on."
"McKay, can we save the speculation for when we get back to Atlantis? We still have to hike to wherever your energy reading is and back."
McKay examined the area where he'd taken the sample.
"I need something to pry some of this loose."
Sheppard unsheathed the combat knife he carried at the back of his belt and offered it. McKay's Adam's apple bobbed as he took it, eyes locked on the dull gleam of the blade. He took it tentatively, clearly steeling himself to do so.
Sheppard raised an eyebrow, wondering if he hadn't just made McKay flashback to being tortured with a similar blade. He hadn't acted bothered by knives before, but that could have been bravado.
"Well, I suppose this will do," McKay said. He set the knife point to the spot where he'd taken the first sample and began prying.
Nothing happened.
"Come on, McKay."
"This material is harder than it looks!" McKay complained. He pried harder. Tendons strained in his neck.
A small chunk cracked off, flying past Ford's shoulder to fall on the pale ground. The sound that accompanied it was the distinct crunch of a bug under a boot. McKay stumbled back and Sheppard steadied him with one hand.
"Wow."
Sheppard arched his eyebrows, smiling. "Wow?"
"Okay, okay, I wasn't expecting that," McKay admitted.
He gestured carelessly, forgetting the knife still in his hand. Sheppard dodged away.
"Ah, you want to hand that back, Rodney?"
"What?" McKay looked at the knife in his hand. "Oh. Here." He held it out.
Sheppard took it back, wiped the brown dust on it off on the leg of his BDUs and slid it back into the sheath.
McKay fished up the sample from the ground. He studied it, turning it in his hands. "This looks a little like chitin," he said thoughtfully.
Sheppard checked it out over his shoulder. "Bug shells?"
"That would be acetylglucosamine. This could just as likely be chitosan, a polymer composed of pure glucosamine. Presuming, of course, that this planet boasts anything like glucoaminoglycans in the first place. I said it looked like chitin."
McKay sounded annoyed, as usual, frowning down at the sample.
Sheppard held out the sample vial.
McKay dropped the sample inside, sealed and then stashed it with the other vial in his vest.
"Major, we should all drink some water," Teyla said. "It would be easy to become dehydrated, despite the moisture in the air."
"Like spending too long in a sauna."
"Please, save me from the image of you in nothing but a towel, Major," McKay said, rolling his eyes. He'd stripped off his gloves with a snap and was unconsciously massaging his arm where Kolya had used a knife on him months before.
"Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings."
Ford snickered.
"Get over yourself, Major."
"Look, let's just do what Teyla said and then keep moving."
Sheppard suited his actions to his words, taking a drink from his canteen, then walking away.
McKay waited a beat then called out.
"Wrong direction."
Sheppard elaborately pulled out his binoculars and peered around. Once they were returned to their case, he waved at McKay.
"Lead on, Rodney."
McKay checked his scanner and started out.
"I just want you to know that if I get foot root because my socks are wet, I expect someone to carry me back to the gate."
"If we find a charged ZPM, I'll carry you piggyback," Sheppard promised.
"No brains, but strong backs. I knew you grunts had to be good for something."
Ford sneezed.
"Dust," he said.
Some of it had settled on all of them, even Teyla. She scrubbed her hand over her bicep thoughtlessly. "I shall be very happy to return to Atlantis and bathe," she admitted.
The three men looked at each other. McKay started to open his mouth. Sheppard started to smile, while Ford mimed 'no, no, no.'
Teyla turned back to them. "Are we waiting for something?"
"Nothing, Teyla," Sheppard said, now grinning.
"Nothing at all," McKay agreed. He pulled out the scanner and pointed out their course.
Ford just ducked his head.
Teyla took point.
McKay waited an extra moment to mutter quietly, "I'd just like to take this moment to express my sheer admiration for what she can do for a pair of BDUs."
"Doctor McKay, that could be construed as sexual harassment."
"This from the Captain Kirk of the Pegasus Galaxy."
They started after her.
"At least let me be Han Solo. Now there was a pilot."
"Just as long as you're not making me Darth Vader."
"Nah," Sheppard said. He bumped his shoulder into McKay's. "You can be C3-PO."
"Oh, thanks ever so much."
Another hour passed before they sighted a difference along the horizon.
Teyla paused.
"Major."
Sheppard scanned with his binoculars again.
"Well?" demanded McKay. "Can we get on with this?"
"Buildings," Sheppard said. He focused on the shapes in the distance. They were the same pale, grayish shade as the ground, only distinguished by the blurred right angles and height from their surroundings. He kept watching, looking for any movement.
McKay fine tuned his scanner's readings.
"Whatever it is, it's there," he said.
"Doesn't look like anyone is home," Sheppard commented.
"No life signs," McKay agreed.
"Good."
They still approached cautiously, each of them except for McKay with their hands on their P90s, ready for trouble. Nothing stirred. The only sounds were the rustle and scrape of canvas and webbing over their clothing, the soft suck of their boots on the strange ground cover, and the distant roar and whoosh of one of the geysers they'd seen dotting the landscape.
The blurred outlines were explained when they saw the ground cover had spread over the buildings, few of which were still intact.
"It's Ancient architecture," McKay declared.
"Oh, you can tell?"
"Yes, Major, I can, as could anyone who used with eyes and a brain," came the peevish reply. "The angles and motifs are the same as we see all over Atlantis. I expect more from you than the mildly retarded five year old act, Major. Pay attention."
Sheppard tapped his fingers on the trigger guard of the P90. "I am paying attention, McKay. I'm paying attention to watching for someone to pop up and point something nasty at us, since that seems to be the preferred meet and greet protocol here in the Pegasus Galaxy."
McKay was intent on his scanner, trying to discover which building housed the energy signature they'd tracked. He waved a hand in Sheppard's direction as though brushing off a fly.
"Right, right, whatever. It's in there." He pointed at low building that looked to have been mostly intact before being grown over.
"So how do we get inside, oh great McKay?"
"How about, 'Open Sesame'?"
Sheppard snorted and concentrated, trying to feel the interface that his ATA gene made possible with most Ancient technology.
The Ancients built to last. The door slid open quietly, accompanied by the suck and plop of bits of overgrowth dropping away from it.
"Cool."
"See, it still has power."
"Doesn't mean it has a ZPM."
McKay started for the door. Sheppard trailed him, bemused as always when the technology recognized his gene and lit the interior for him.
"Ford," he called over his shoulder, "You and Teyla keep watch out here. If we're not out before that, we'll check in by radio every hour on the hour."
"Yes sir."
Ford nodded and settled in a parade position as first Doctor McKay and then the Major's crow-dark head disappeared into the building. Teyla took a position that let her watch Ford's blind spot. They both found the silence oppressive, but any attempt at conversation even worse: their voices sounded too loud in the pervasive stillness.
Inside, the building lacked Atlantis' grace and stained glass, but the walls and the floors were familiar in color and material. McKay was right. The decorations shared the same motifs as well.
Their boots left wet prints on the faded red floor, the first to pass there in ten thousand years if the building dated to the same period as Atlantis itself. The air felt stale and warm, but some kind of circulation system had to be in operation. If it had been sealed without one, they would have been choking already.
McKay was like a hound dog on a scent, following the readings on his scanner down a series of corridors.
Sheppard kept throwing looks over his shoulder, just because he felt he should, though there had been no sign of anything, animal, vegetable or mineral, hostile since they came through the gate. It was making him nervous.
"I don't know, does this all seem like it's just a little bit too easy?" he said.
"What, in a 'It's quiet, too quiet' kind of way?"
Sheppard looked sheepish. "Yeah."
"You're paranoid, Major."
"That's what the military specializes in."
"Then you've succeeded beyond your wildest dreams. Even with you leading us, statistically we shouldn't always encounter disaster and doom."
"I thought you were Mr. Gloom and Doom."
"I was until now," McKay said. His voice skipped a third, rising. He waved at what he'd seen. Sheppard followed the gesture. "Look at that. Look at that!"
They turned and faced each other, eyes meeting, disbelief and excitement in their expressions.
It was a ZPM. A ZPM just sitting there on what looked like a lab work table as though to taunt them.
McKay darted forward, a broad grin stretching over his face. "Look at you, you beautiful thing," he crooned as though besotted.
Sheppard laughed.
"I'll start the wedding invitations as soon as we get back," he said.
"What?" McKay frowned at him, bewildered. "Wedding?"
"You and the ZPM. It's true love."
McKay gave him a narrowed eyed look. One hand rested possessively on the ZPM.
"You've finally cracked under the pressure, haven't you?"
Sheppard shook his head, still smiling, something too tight loosening inside him. With a full power ZPM they could power Atlantis's shields and defenses, bring the lost city to full life for the first time since they'd found it. With a full power... Reality crashed back down.
"Can you see if it's any good?" he asked.
Anything this easy... wasn't.
McKay's look of happiness faded somewhat.
"Yes. Give me a few minutes."
He began looking over some of the equipment in the room with them, taking a reading on his scanner after activating several controls, then returning to the ZPM and comparing what he saw with something else. A pinched frown replaced the open delight of a few moments before. Sheppard knew the answer before McKay turned back to him.
"It's mostly depleted. Probably switched out for a fresh one in the installation's security shieldwhich has failedand brought back here," McKay theorized. "There's nothing left here but a minor back-up system operating off a geothermal tap."
"Damn," Sheppard said softly, the coil in his gut pulling tight again. After the one moment of sheer relief, it felt worse. "Damn."
His eyes met McKay's again and saw the same things reflected there. For one moment they'd thought they'd had it, the key to saving Atlantis at least, if not stopping the Wraith, and the feeling of loss was nearly unbearable. All he could do was look away. Neither of them was ready to admit to despair.
McKay's mouth, always expressive, twisted into sneer.
"Too easy, right, Major?"
"Yeah." He dug his fingers through his hair, making him look even more like a ruffled crow. "Yeah, well, who wants easy? We're taking it back with us anyway, right?"
McKay shrugged out of his pack and slipped the depleted ZPM into it. His hands were deft and sure on it.
"Of course. It still holds about a quarter charge. We can at least power up a few more systems. That will take some strain off the naquadah generators and keep those incompetent lackwits masquerading as engineers from blowing us all up next time they're serviced."
His movements sharp and jerky with frustration, McKay stripped off his vest and flak vest and down to his blue shirt. His jacket went into the pack on top of the ZPM. His hands lingered before he zipped it closed and shrugged back into his gear.
Sheppard decided the scientist had the right idea and stripped down to his black T-shirt. He left his vest hanging open, settled his pack back into place and picked up his P90 from the table.
McKay was just staring at the table where the ZPM had sat.
Sheppard checked the time.
"Ten minutes until Ford expects a check-in. You want to poke around in here?"
McKay twitched. He looked around the room. "No," he said. "No, let's just get back to the gate." A wealth of weariness colored his tone.
Tiredly, Sheppard sing-songed, "If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all."
McKay looked at him in disgust.
"Hee Haw? Why is this my life?"
Sheppard's mouth curled upward at one corner.
"It's got to be karma, Rodney. You must have been a bad, bad boy."
"You need to get Heightmeyer to shrink your head, Major."
Sheppard shook his head. "There are just so many ways I could come back on that, I can't choose."
McKay snorted.
They emerged into the shadowless half-light and Sheppard shook his head at Ford's look of inquiry.
"No joy in Mudville," he said.
"There was no ZPM?" Teyla asked.
"We found it, but it's too depleted to do us any real good," McKay explained.
The long hike back to the Stargate stretched through the rest of the afternoon. None of them felt up to talking much in the wake of their disappointment and the silences were long.
They trudged up to the gate in a loose diamond formation, Teyla still in the lead.
"Dial up Atlantis," Sheppard told McKay.
He made a last turn, surveying the unremarkable plain with its distant geysers and strange monoliths. Nothing had changed. Their return tracks were still dark marks in a line toward the horizon, but the ground cover had already erased the signs from their arrival. They had nothing worthwhile to show for the expedition. In a few more hours, it would be like they'd never stepped foot on MX9-M41.
The gate activated with a whoosh, boiling out from the ring for a brief, dangerous moment before the event horizon settled into the deceptive illusion of a brilliant, watery surface suspended within the gate.
Ford activated his IDC.
Their radios crackled to life. "AR-1, this is Atlantis . What is your situation?"
Sheppard activated his radio and responded.
"No luck and we're ready to come back."
"You're all right?"
"There's no one here to shoot at us," Sheppard said. "No one even twisted an ankle."
"Come ahead, AR-1."
"Roger. We're coming through now. Sheppard, out."
He clicked off his radio and followed as McKay, then Ford and Teyla stepped through the gate. One last deep breath, the taste of wool and yeast at the back of his tongue. Sheppard breathed out and walked into the wormhole without looking back.
Elizabeth Weir stood with her arms crossed and watched all four of the team walk out of the wormhole into the gate room unharmed for once. It had become a habit to stand at the observation balcony and greet the teams whenever they returned, even when they weren't under fire or wounded. Today they looked merely tired and wet, hair plastered to their heads and shoulders slumped.
She studied them, taking advantage of a moment when they were unguarded to evaluate the expedition's first team. She could see they were wearing at the edges. Everyone was stressed but these were people out at the sharp edge with every mission. They had a lean and hungry look, like tired predators that had failed at a hunt. Teyla and Ford looked best, but they were younger and carried less responsibility. Even their bones were closer to the skin than ever before. Rodney had thinned down to muscle and feverish eyes, and John Sheppard, always thin, looked--when his masks dropped--gaunt and weary.
The moment passed, the players moved, and the roles were firmly taken up again: Ford grinned cheerfully, Teyla's posture straightened, while Rodney raised his voice in neurotic complaint and John gleefully sniped at him. The afterimage lingered only in Elizabeth's eyes.
Elizabeth leaned over the balcony railing. "Welcome back."
John raised his eyes to her and gave a minute headshake, even as he spoke.
"And so we bid farewell to the planet of wet socks. Which was pretty much a bust, except for the no one trying to kill us part."
"I liked that part," Ford agreed.
"Oh, I think we all did."
"But it did smell like one of Carson's beloved sheep," McKay commented.
"It was uncomfortable," Teyla said.
Elizabeth relaxed, despite the stab of disappointment. She forced a smile. "It's good to have you all back."
"Yes, ma'am," Ford called up to her.
Rodney had already shrugged out of his pack. Teyla was squeezing moisture out of her hair. Sheppard caught Rodney's pack and held it as the scientist unzipped it.
"We did find a depleted ZPM," Rodney said. He pulled the device out of his pack . "If we ever find out how to charge them, it will be useful. We can study it at least. I need to get it down to my lab and test my theory--"
"As soon as you're cleared by Dr. Beckett and debrief, Dr. McKay," Elizabeth directed.
John mock saluted. "Yes, ma'am," he mimicked Ford.
Rodney's expression set in petulance and he protested, "I'm fine and I need to make sure Radek hasn't let one of those incompetent refugees from a Caribbean diploma mill you've saddled me with mess with my experiments again. Let the Major tell you all about hiking over hill and dale. I have important work to do. There's simply no time to waste catering to the Scottish quack's desire to completely exsanguinate me."
John set his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Let's get it over with. For once, no one's going to get stuck in the infirmary. We'll be in and out in less time than it takes to make Elizabeth angry."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at that, but John just smiled carelessly.
Rodney shook John's hand away in annoyance. "Fine."
John shivered in reaction to the temperature contrast between Mx9-M41 and the gate room. Sea air constantly cooled Atlantis and energy conservation kept them from adjusting the environmental controls. Instead you wore sweaters and jackets. Standing around in wet clothes was unpleasant and uncomfortable.
Rodney gave a tentative cough. "I'm probably going to get pneumonia."
John rolled his eyes and Ford covered a grin. Rodney could be frighteningly predictable.
"I expect you in the conference room twenty minutes after Dr. Beckett tells me you're all cleared," Elizabeth said. "Get some dry clothes on, please."
Teyla gave her a grateful smile as the four of them left the gate room. Rodney still clutched the depleted ZPM in his hands, while John carried his pack.
"You're not going to get pneumonia, Rodney."
"It's perfectly possible. My lungs are delicate --"
"No germ would want to put up with you."
She heard Rodney's voice rise querulously. "Do you actually think about anything that falls out of your mouth or is your brain completely disconnected from it?"
Elizabeth returned to her office, relieved that they were all home in one piece. The details of the mission could wait a while.