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This story is completed
The thing was, Rodney had never been that close to death before. Mostly. There was that thing with the virus, and then the whole Kolya with a gun to his head debacle (okay, several debacles with Kolya and a gun to his head) and then there was the time at the bottom of the ocean, and the solar flares, and the time on the Wraith hive ship and . . . so maybe he lied. There were a lot of times when he'd escaped death by the skin of his teeth (what the hell was that supposed to mean, anyhow – last time he checked, teeth didn't have skin).
But, skin or no skin, this one had felt different – and that wasn't just the cardiac arrest talking. The difference was that all of the other times he'd been too busy panicking to really stop and think about death. There'd always been something to do. At the very least, Sheppard would always come up with some insane seat-of-his-gloriously-tight-pants plan and they'd somehow magically be saved. All Rodney had to do was play his part – yell a little, freak out a little (okay, maybe a lot), bicker with Sheppard, say ‘I'm a dead man' and not really mean it, and be his usual brilliant self and ta-dah incredibly brilliant not-death!
But this time, he'd had to face the fact that he was going to die – that no matter how much he calculated and theorized and freaked-out, the thing that stood between him and death was the same thing that made him so afraid of it in the first place – he just wasn't eternity material. And, seriously, he deserved some credit for that, because it was easy for people like John Sheppard or Jack O'Neill or even Teyla to risk their lives because for martyrs like them, with all their gods in line, they were good enough to ascend – hell, it was practically written into their genes. No wonder Daniel Jackson always threw himself in front of the tanks every chance he got – it wasn't like he had to worry about really dying.
But maybe Rodney wasn't that different. Elizabeth had shown him the EKG readings. He'd been in the zone. He'd seen it, almost touched it – the empty void of potential, all of the answers at his fingertips. He could have had it, even it he didn't want it. It was like going out with the head cheerleader even when she was both louder and dumber than a Jack Russell terrier – it was nice to be asked.
Rodney smiled to himself.
"What are you smiling about?"
Rodney spun around to see who else but Lieutenant Colonel Manly-Heterosexual-Love slouching tantalizingly against his door.
"Jesus, Colonel you almost gave me a heart attack. Remind me to get you a cowbell."
Sheppard shrugged, pushing off the wall and moving closer. And was it just the head-rush of not-death or was he sort of slinkier than usual?
"Wouldn't matter. I'd just use my mad ninja skills to sneak up on you anyhow."
Rodney snorted. "I'll be sure to warn all those tree roots and mysterious invisible stones you keep attacking."
"Hey, I can be stealthy when I want to be. Maybe the high-pitched sound of your whining does enough damage to distract me."
"Yeah, if it damages your balance."
"I have perfectly good balance. I couldn't fly planes if I . . . ow!" Sheppard's statement was not supported by leaning jauntily to the side and right into the corner of the lab bench.
Rodney rolled his eyes. "So what, might I ask, is important enough for you to come down here and prevent me from figuring out the new slightly confusing, but nonetheless brilliant math that's going to win me a Nobel, eh?"
Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at the ceiling of the lab. "So, nice day, isn't it?"
"Have you been eating brownies from the botany lab's freezer again? See that? That's ceiling. Ceiling equals indoors. And I can't see through walls anymore so . . ."
"So maybe its time you took a break. Wait, you could see through walls? Dr. Janson doesn't wear any underwear, am I right?"
"Oh, yes, of course your mind goes there, peeping tom. I don't even see why you bother – she'd probably tie you to a balcony with Ancient rubber bands and ride you like My Little Pony if you just gave the word."
"Really? Did she think that?"
"No." That had been Dr. Fernandez. It was a good idea, though. Rodney tried not to get swept up in fantasy. "But if you were interested, she probably wouldn't say no. I mean, half the women on this base would spread their legs if you just looked them in the eye."
Sheppard waved him off, rubbing his hip, distractedly. "Naw, she's not my type."
"What do you mean, not your type? She's doe-eyed and relatively intelligent (for a linguist) and, I don't know . . . breathing."
"Not my type," Sheppard said, looking down at the floor all of a sudden with that blushing schoolgirl thing he did whenever anyone paid too much attention to him.
"So what is your type?" Rodney asked, suddenly interested.
Sheppard shrugged. "I don't know. I know it when I see it. A certain kind of charisma."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "What, a purple aura? Please."
Sheppard grabbed a hold of Rodney's elbow. "You just came back from the dead. You shouldn't be cooped up in here. Let's go for a round of golf. We can be at the west pier in time for sunset."
Rodney was too busy protesting being brutally manhandled to remember to keep up his line of questioning.
When Teer first met John, she knew he was the one. She'd seen him in dreams, prophesies. She'd been in love with him long before they'd even met.
John, on the other hand, wasn't really all that into her until she told him about fate and destiny and forces beyond their control. He thought about ‘Back to the Future' when George McFly tried to tell Marty's mom that she was his dead-city. ‘Back to the Future' was the most romantic movie ever.
Rodney bit his lip. He wasn't a very good golfer. He looked out over his shoulder to where Sheppard was laying back on the deck. The man smiled encouragingly, but only he really had no idea how bad Rodney was at this.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, pool I can handle. Or pinball. But golf's just not really my thing."
"C'mon, McKay, how bad can you be? I played with Rod and he was pretty good."
Rodney spun around. "You played with Rod?"
Sheppard shrugged. "He asked." Then he gestured with the beer he'd insisted they bring out there. "And don't do that jealous little pissy thing of yours either, because I didn't enjoy it as much as I enjoy being with you."
Rodney frowned. Why was Sheppard being so nice to him? Oh, yeah, he'd almost died. "If this is your way at getting back at me for getting super powers when all you ever do is get bitten by every insect in the Pegasus Galaxy, then . . ."
Sheppard snorted, putting on a pair of sunglasses. "Just swing the damn club, Rodney. I'll tell you what you're doing wrong."
"Are you sure? Because the people at Moe's Miniature Golf Palace tend to think otherwise."
"Rodney," Sheppard growled. He really shouldn't be sexy when he did that - especially not in those ridiculous glasses of his.
"Fine."
Rodney squinted. He focused. He pulled back and . . . one, two, three . . . he closed his eyes and . . .
"Rodney! The ball's supposed to go into the ocean, not the club!"
Rodney opened his eyes. "I told you I wasn't any good at this! But you wouldn't listen. Poor Sam is probably chocking on my golf club as we . . ."
Rodney was interrupted by a clanging noise.
Sheppard smirked at him. "Hold my feet," he said, sauntering over to the side of the pier and laying down on his stomach.
"Sheppard, what are you . . ."
Sheppard winked over his shoulder. Rodney sighed and stomped over, grabbing Sheppard's ankles as he bent down. Rodney absolutely was not looking at Sheppard's ass when he . . . "What are you doing?"
"Gotcha!" Sheppard pushed himself back from the side, golf club in hand. "The oceanographers helped us line this thing up so that the balls get caught in the current and flow right back here." He handed Rodney the wet club. "Let's try this again. I'll help you this time."
Sheppard got to his feet as Rodney dried the club on his shirt.
"There wasn't anything wrong with your stance. It's the swing that's the problem. Well, that and the grip." He smirked.
"Ha ha, very funny, mock me now, but bring out the Playstation and I'll . . ."
"It's a date. How about you give me a practice swing. Facing the pier this time?"
Rodney grumbled, but complied. He missed the ball, but keeping hold of the club this time.
"Okay," a voice said, dangerously close to his ear. "I see what you're doing wrong."
Startled by Sheppard's proximity, Rodney whirled around, delivering an elbow to a soft stomach.
"Ow! Rodney!"
"Sorry, sorry. Personal space, Sheppard. Have you heard of it? Or is logic another one of those pesky rules that your hair follicles have decided to overwhelm?"
"Jesus, Rodney. Relax. I was just trying to help you. Here," Sheppard soothed, coming to stand behind him, toned chest pressed right up against Rodney's back. How the hell was Rodney supposed to concentrate with Sheppard pressed up against him like this?
"Like this," Sheppard coaxed, hands calloused but comfortable against Rodney's as he rotated, swinging back and slowly forward, their hips following each other in a perfect line. Sheppard smelled nice, like salt and sea and that pine soap that was stocked in the locker rooms and . . . hey, was that cologne? But Sheppard wouldn't be wearing cologne for a game of gold between friends, so maybe he was just one of those guys who had the natural gift of always smelling good. Of course he would. The universe was just that cruel.
"You feel that?" Sheppard asked.
Yeah, Rodney felt it all right. Golf was even harder than he'd thought.
Contrary to popular belief (mostly Rodney's), John hadn't gone wild the second he set foot back on Earth. Rodney could bitch and moan all he wanted about a whole planet of 6 billion people for him to flirt and make eyes at, but it wasn't the same. There was something missing from it. It wasn't special. It was just a stupid game of cat and mouse that didn't take any effort and wasn't even worth the effort it did take. It was so normal it was depressing.
John ended up fucking a whole convent full of young nuns before he felt anywhere near satisfied, but it just wasn't the same.
Rodney looked over the crowded mess hall. Elizabeth was in a corner, sending off ‘busy, do not disturb' vibes that even Rodney could understand. Some of the zoologists were playing an idiotic looking game with their spoons at one of the larger tables. And amid the scattered tables of ‘I don't give a crap who they are's was Rodney's team. They were huddled over the table laughing about something, as usual. Rodney scowled. After the conversations he'd overheard when he had superpowers, Rodney wasn't exactly jumping to go join them. Not that sitting alone wondering if they were talking about him would be any better. It was a dilemma. Maybe he could just slink off to his lab. The cook wouldn't give him any problems – they'd worked out a deal – Ancient surround sound for food anytime, anywhere.
But, of course that couldn't happen. "Hey, Rodney!" Sheppard called. "Not going to come over here and join us?"
Rodney sighed. Oh well.
"I was just telling Ronon and Teyla about ‘The Fifth Element.' I have the disc. We should all watch it sometime."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Please. How is that even scientifically . . . Love? Love can't be the . . . it's not even an element!"
"In fact, Love is considered an element among my people. It, along with fire, water, wind, and soil, are used in the great ceremony of the blessing, which guards against the Wraith."
"You . . . wait . . . Teyla. That's not funny."
"I am not joking, Rodney. There is a sacred chamber with four pillars, each activated by a different element. We believe it to be a gift of the Ancestors."
No. There was absolutely no way that the ceremony in that movie was actually used to . . . Teyla wasn't doing her best job of hiding her grin.
"Oh, very funny. So much for not spoiling the ending, Sheppard. Too bad, I guess we won't have to watch it, then."
John smirked. "You can't argue that it's not a cool movie. Come on, Bruce Willis as a cab driver? Milla Jovovich as a hot kung-fu-fighting divine being? And you have to love that opera house scene."
"Yes, yes, cheesy dialogue, the hero getting the partially-ascended, linguistically-challenged, mostly-naked babe, explosions. It's a ticket to Sheppard blockbuster success."
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Fine then, if you're going to be mean about it, I just won't share the last piece of purple-not-chocolate cake with you."
Rodney felt his eyes widen. "I didn't even know they were serving that! Manny should have saved me a piece!"
"Maybe he didn't because his name's Malcolm, not Manny?" Sheppard asked.
"No, no, Manny loves me. I activated the Ancient surround sound in his quarters. And seriously, you got me cake?" Since when did Sheppard get him cake? Normally he'd just taunt him with it . . . oh. That explained it.
"How come I don't get Ancient surround sound in my quarters?" Sheppard was freakily good at puppy dog eyes.
"Fine. Now hand over the cake."
"And what are we going to watch on the surround sound?"
"The Fifth Element," Rodney grumbled.
Sheppard beamed.
"Last one to almost die brings the popcorn," Ronon added.
"Notice we didn't have that rule when we brought him back from Sateda," Rodney whispered to Sheppard.
Sheppard leaned in closer. "It's okay. I'll take care of it. Here's your cake."
God, it was a little slice of heaven. Rodney moaned. Those purple berries were almost better than real chocolate.
"Don't even think that," Sheppard smirked. "There's nothing better than chocolate."
How had he done that?
"Did Elizabeth actually let you use that machine?"
Sheppard frowned. "No. I mean its perfect, all of the good stuff – the super powers, the healing, the destiny, without all the rule and that meditating crap."
"And don't forget the death and the possibility of protoplasmic mass!"
Sheppard shrugged. "We almost had it."
It wasn't usual that John was nervous about meeting someone. It was just that it was Daniel Jackson. This was the man who'd discovered how to use the Stargate, fought the Goa'uld and the Ori, died and come back and died again (coming back again, just like the Rolling Stones, of course). Daniel knew more about the Ancients and the races they'd seeded throughout the stars than anyone. He'd figured out the language. Hell, he was the star pupil of Oma Desala herself!
Sure, John and Daniel had met before, but that was back when John barely even knew about the Stargate. Daniel had just been that bumbling archeologist with the glasses. Now, John knew better. And was it just him, or had Daniel been working out?
"Hey, look what I found," Sheppard proclaimed, bounding into the lab with a small squarish device in his hands. "Kavanagh had it stashed in his drawer – you know, the one where he locks all the things he doesn't want you to see?"
"Huh," Rodney replied, holding out his hand for the thing. "How are you, by the way?" Not like he needed to ask; Sheppard had been following him around like a lost puppy the past few days - bringing him meals, bugging him to go golfing or sit and type out their mission reports together or to go skinny dipping on the mainland (Rodney was planning to take him up on the last one, if only just to torture himself with what he couldn't have).
"Good," Sheppard said. "You?"
"Fine." Was it just Rodney, or was that black shirt even tighter than usual? "So, how does the device work?"
"Well, you hold out your palm like this." Sheppard placed a cupped palm facing up, the cube in it. "And then you think about where we are in the solar system." The lights in the room seemed to dim as a schematic popped up in front of them, just like it had the first time they'd met.
"This seems familiar," Rodney said.
"Yeah?" Sheppard stepped closer. "It can do one better." The map blurred in a rush until they were looking at a map of the planet, and then down to a small blip of a flashing dot, coordinates labeled. "I don't know how it does it, but this is way better than GPS. Cool, huh?"
"Yeah, cool," Rodney breathed. They were surrounded by wisps of holographic shimmering blue that made Sheppard's eyes sparkle a mysterious black. "It's probably coordinating with other devices – the jumpers, the Ancient database. We'll have to try it out on other worlds if we want to be sure. I'll let you keep it for now. Knowing your propensity for getting lost, I . . ."
Rodney trailed off when Sheppard leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss was sharp and sweet, not a lot of tongue, but enough to know that he wanted more. Rodney pulled Sheppard closer, the lights of the little universe flashing off as it was mashed in between them. Rodney moaned into Sheppard's lips, grasping at the soft fabric of his too-tight shirt.
Wait. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I felt like it," Sheppard mumbled, hand coming up to the back of Rodney's neck, trying to guide him down for another kiss.
"Hey, my mouth is not an aircraft carrier, and since when are we . . ." he gestured between them, "Instead of loving each other like manly men who love friends in manly ways?"
Sheppard frowned. "You're attracted to me, Rodney. Don't deny it."
"Of course I'm attracted to you, you idiot. Have you looked in a mirror recently? But I find it awfully suspicious that a week ago you'd barely give me the time of day . . ."
"That's because you had a watch on."
"That's not . . . you know what I mean. You must have known I was attracted to you for a while and then I get super semi-ascended powers and almost die and suddenly you're all over me? I think I have the right to know why!"
"Rodney, I swear, I liked you before you almost ascended. We're friends, I . . . Can we please go back to the kissing now?"
"No! That's it!" It all made sense now – Sheppard wanted him just because he'd been close to ascension. "I almost ascended. You didn't think I could do it. Before I wasn't good enough for you and your silly little partially-ascended-space-hoe fetish, but now that you saw how close I came, suddenly you want to rip my pants off!"
"Rodney, not everyone I'm attracted to is partially ascended. Two. Only two," Sheppard huffed exasperatedly, reaching out to try to pull Rodney back against him. It didn't matter though. Rodney didn't want some Ancient groupie for a boyfriend. It wasn't like they were all that great anyhow. If Rodney could get there in under a week, then most people probably could eventually.
"What about the magician on P3R-7833? The one who could make it rain on command?"
"She wasn't an Ancient."
"But she pretended to be. Or maybe the priestess on M6M-2245? Or the tarot card reader on E1C-4909? Or that shaman that I now realize you were not just sitting placidly in a sweat hut with?"
"So I like people with a deep sense of understanding of the universe! So sue me! It's not like I go out looking for people who might be acended. What about Mara? Or Norina?"
"Norina was only so I couldn't have her. And Mara was because she practically tied you up and harvested your sperm with a vacuum cleaner."
"That's not true. I liked those women. They were both very deep, intelligent people . . . well, Norina was. You should feel honored that I'm attracted to you too. Rodney, come on, you know how good we'll be together."
"No," Rodney said, picking up the universe projecting cube and storming out. "Stay right here, Penny Lane, and maybe if you stay away from me I'll give you my autograph."
Mara wasn't ascended. And, if John was being honest with himself, she wasn't exactly unwelcome either. It wasn't every day that beautiful woman just came to your room and threw off their cloths, now was it? Well, assuming you didn't pay for the service, that is.
So he went for it. What guy wouldn't? Besides, she was like him. She had the Ancient gene. She knew what it was like to operate the chair, the way it thrummed beneath you with a power that was maybe just a little bit better than sex.
The whole thing was all very friendly, fraternal even. Besides, there was a whole weight behind it – destiny and legacies and the like. He wondered it that meant she'd get pregnant. He'd have to check up on that one.
Unfortunately, as much as he'd wanted to, Rodney hadn't been able to do much about the whole movie-night thing. Nothing stood in between Ronon and his popcorn; that was a lesson they'd all learned fairly early on.
So, after switching on the surround sound in Sheppard's room, they were all arranged comfortably, watching the movie on Sheppard's laptop. Ronon had taken the floor (and the popcorn bowl), with Teyla spread out across the bottom of the bed, Rodney and Sheppard shoulder to shoulder behind her.
It wasn't easy to avoid Sheppard – not if he'd latched onto something. He was surprisingly bulldog-like in that regard. Rodney would have figured him more for a show poodle, or one of those fluffy things with the really long soft hair, but bulldog he was.
Sheppard had been pestering Rodney all night, pressing their thighs together, waiting for Rodney to dip his hand into the popcorn before stuffing his in there too, lightning-quick. He'd even gone so far as to try to do the old yawn and reach, which had scared Rodney so badly he'd spilled some popcorn, which earned him a growl from Ronon.
When the movie ended, Ronon yawned. "Nobody on the box knew how to fight," he said. "I liked that Sitting Dragon one better."
"Of course you did." Rodney rolled his eyes.
"I enjoyed it very much, John," Teyla said diplomatically. "Though I believe that the ceremony at the end was performed incorrectly. A physical product was required for all of the other elements; why did the couple not produce the physical essence of love?"
"Give it a rest, Teyla. I know you're bluffing."
Teyla laughed, giving Rodney's arm a squeeze as she stood. "I did enjoy the movie, Rodney."
"Me too," Sheppard piped up, standing to let Ronon and Teyla out. "If you guys like Bruce Willis, there's another one where he's a miner and there's this asteroid and . . ."
"Okay, shut up now," Rodney protested. "We will not refer to that besmearing of even the Hollywood version of science. If you like Bruce Willis, we'll watch ‘12 Monkeys.' Now, we'd better be going. Have to leave to Colonel to text message his vote for Ascended Idol."
"Actually, you should hang back, Rodney, I have to discuss that ‘thing' with you."
"Well, ‘that thing' can wait. I'm a very busy man. I'm in the middle of a simulation down in the labs right now that . . ."
"Zelenka can handle it," Sheppard said, using that intensely gruff voice of his.
"And you would know that, how? Did you consult your horoscope? Or are you hiding a degree in astrophysics beneath all that hair of yours?"
Before Sheppard could answer, Ronon interrupted, "We have a training session. Thanks for the movie, Sheppard."
"Wait!" Rodney protested. "Why's he in such a hurry?"
"Tonight he is teaching group fighting techniques," Teyla answered. "Last time I would not allow him to do six on one, but he has gotten approval from the military commander of this base." She gave Sheppard a pointed look.
"What? Teyla! He's Ronon. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't let him beat up on the Marines?"
Teyla shook her head. "Have fun with your ‘thing.' I will see you both tomorrow."
"Teyla, wait! There is no ‘thing!'" Rodney tried to protest, but Teyla was already gone.
"So . . . um . . . I'm just going to . . ." Rodney started.
Sheppard grabbed his arm. "Rodney, please, just hear me out, okay? I don't have a thing for Ascended people."
"Sorry, Sheppard, but I'm a scientist and all available evidence points to the fact that you are the biggest screaming Japanese girl in the ascended fanclub."
"Well, I'm not. And even if I was, who cares? Do you think John Lennon told Yoko to piss off because she fell in love with him after he was famous? Do you think movie stars turn down easy action just because they get it for being stars?"
"No. But, Sheppard . . ."
"John."
"Fine, John, the thing is that you've known me for a long time. I don't have a great singing voice or movie star good looks or any of those things. You didn't want me before, which means that the only reason you want me now is because I almost ascended."
John crossed his arms over his chest. "God, how fucked up it must be living inside your head. Rodney, I swear to god. You don't know how much I hate discussing my feelings . . ."
"Actually, I do."
"Then you'll believe me when I say that want you for you, okay? Because you're right. Even if John Lennon wasn't a Beatle, he still had talent. I didn't agree to meditate with you just to appease Elizabeth. I did it because I believed in you. I knew you could do it if you put your mind to it, just like everything else you really work at. I just wish you'd put half as much effort into being with me as you do concocting ridiculous scenarios to sabotage this."
By the time John had finished his rant, he was panting, cheeks flushed and eyes blown wide. Passion looked good on him.
"Wow." Rodney didn't know what else to say to that. "I think that's the longest speech I've ever heard you give."
John grinned, tackling Rodney back onto the bed. "Just shut up and kiss me, okay?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," Rodney said, closing the distance between them.
Two spectacular orgasms later, as Rodney was doggishly pursuing a third, John turned to him and asked. "So, Rodney, what was it like?"
"What?" Rodney asked with a yawn. Maybe a third round was asking a little much.
"Being able to ascend?"
Rodney hit him with a pillow.
John never told anybody about his time with Chaya. Sharing her soul was like stepping into a deep black lake on a summer night, starlit sky blending so seamlessly with the water below that it felt like swimming through the surface of reality itself.
There are shamans who say they've had brushes with fate, flashes of insight in which they understand how big the universe really is and just their place in it. Sharing wasn't like sex at all, regardless of what Rodney accused John of afterwards. It was like that day as a child, when an adult takes you to a science museum and shows you how the world works – like everything is opening up before you, a huge world you didn't even know existed before you took the time to look.
Moments of great insight and understanding are rare in our short lifetimes. John Sheppard has had four in his thirty-nine years. The first was when his dad took him up in a plane when he was six and he knew that's what he wanted to do with his life. The second was when he sat down in a glowing arm chair and found out that human beings weren't alone in the universe. The third was with Chaya, when he learned for a fact that there is such a thing as destiny, lurking somewhere in that star-strewn lake, just far enough beneath the surface but beyond our grasp.
I don't think I need to tell you about the last.
FIN