"Oh my God - I don't believe it. Give me your hat, quick! I don't want him to see me!" Rodney screeched, trying ineffectively to hide himself behind Ford.

Aiden rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because Major Sheppard's really not going to notice that 'I've' suddenly gained fifty pounds changed my clothes to khaki, grown out my hair and become a pale Canadian."

"I don't weigh fifty pounds more than you! And who are you calling pale?!" Rodney yelled, yanking Aiden's ever-present hat off his head.

"Not you, obviously. I'd clock you at crimson, right about now." Aiden chuckled and waved to John.

Rodney turned away, knowing that John would spot him even if he was dressed as a gigantic stuffed turkey and reading the Sunday post. He at least had to make an effort. "Wanker," he whispered to Ford under his breath.

John strode through the informal mess, just a bunch of tables and some ovens to heat up the food stores really. It was early, but the few people who were there covered their mouths to keep from laughing. The frosty bite of John's glare dared anyone to say something. He was just looking for the excuse to take his anger out on them.

When he approached the table where Rodney and Aiden were sitting back to back, he gave Aiden a strained smile, one that said this he'd better look sharp otherwise he would be included in the forthcoming explosion.

"Morning, Lieutenant, Rodney," his voice was sleek and dangerous - the voice he used to blackmail those people into taking them in.

Aiden felt Rodney shudder a little bit behind him.

"Hi, John," he whispered, barely audible.

"Morning, Sir," Aiden smiled, hesitantly.

"I like the new look, Rod," John pulled up a chair with a slow dangerously casual precision. "Though I think it makes your head all weird - like a walking penis." He growled.

Rodney squirmed. It had been too irresistible. John lying there so smug and self-satisfied, teasing Rodney about the tire around his tummy. The way he danced off to the shower with his 'I know you'll join me, you can't resist' smile and a slap to Rodney's ass. John Sheppard had gotten far too accustomed to having Rodney at his beck and call. He was just asking for it.

"Thank you." Rodney gulped, trying not to look at the brilliant pearls of water that dripped in channels and rivulets down the fine hair of John's chest. He was going to have breakfast with Ford then return with John's clothes to the shower, but he should have known better. Since when was John self-conscious about with that trim waist and the sculpted chest? Especially when he paraded around the bedroom naked, stretching and preening while Rodney hid his pale white ass beneath the covers.

And *everyone,* well, everyone except Rodney, apparently, knew that you never *ever* challenged John Sheppard. He'd never lost a game of chicken, nor poker as far as he could tell.

John's eyes were dangerous as he leaned close to Rodney. Rodney could almost taste the minty freshness of his mouthwash, feel his warm breath on his cheek. He didn't dare break that penetrating gaze. "You have been a very very bad boy, Rodney. You will come with me to my quarters to receive punishment and you will not complain and you will never ever do something like this again."

There was something in the threat in John's voice, the commanding, feral hum behind the harsh words, that sent all the blood rushing from Rodney's flushed face directly to his cock.

John smiled a malevolent smirk and leaned back up to full standing height. "Do I make myself clear?"

Rodney's brain was too distracted by the bulge in the white towel wrapped around John's waist, that maniacal glint in his eyes. His mouth barely moved to mutter the words. "Yes, Sir." John turned on his heal and walked off, looking as though he walked around the base in a towel every day and anyone who said otherwise had something coming.

Rodney staggered to his feet, uncomfortable in his pants, and scurried after him. "Um . . . er . . . I gotta go . . . tests . . . technology and stuff." He said to Aiden over his shoulder. Aiden tried to keep his jaw from dropping. How in the hell did Rodney strand John Sheppard, the kind of pranks, in just a towel? And why, for heaven's sakes, did he still need Aiden's hat?