Yes, I have fallen into SGA, written McShep, and it's totally Danvers fault. Okay, all she did was ask when I was going to write an SGA story and I said by Monday and so apparently I'm a very cheap date but still... Danvers fault. Because I don't know Widget well enough to blame her.



Disclaimer: Also not mine. Still no money.


GREAT EXPECTATIONS



"Well, that's just great. Aliens are going to make us have sex."

John had pretty much been ignoring Dr. McKay ever since they'd been relieved of their clothing and locked into the small room but that got his attention. He stopped trying to force the door and turned to glare at the scientist. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It happens to SG-1 all the time."

"What?!"

"Seriously, all the time." McKay dropped down onto the bench that ran along one wall, glanced down between his thighs, and crossed one bare and pale leg over the other, effectively blocking the narrow space between the bench and the opposite wall. "When we were at the SGC, before we left for Atlantis, I hacked Dr. Jackson's diary."

"You did wha... Why?"

"Because I didn't have time to break Colonel Carter's encryption but my motivations aren't the point here. The point is, based on well documented precedent, aliens are going to make us have sex."

"McKay..."

"Did you miss the part about us being locked naked in a small room?"

Actually, he hadn't. Throwing his full weight against the door did nothing but bruise his shoulder. "I'm on top of it."

"You wish," McKay snorted, paused, and frowned. "Oh. You mean you're on top of the situation not... Right. Good. I'm glad you noticed."

"Noticed? I could hardly miss it, now could I?" They'd approached the temple right next to the Gate where, according to Teyla, the Priests of Kern dealt with off worlders, rang the bell, got jumped by four really big guys each, got made naked, got separated from Ford and Teyla, got locked in a small room with McKay and... Hang on. "What do you mean, I wish?"

"You know what I mean, Major."

The statement accompanied by McKay's 'stop being such an idiot' look. John was usually kind of flattered in a weird way that he got that look instead of the more common 'you are such an idiot'. It implied that Rodney didn't think idiot was his default setting and that he could, if he put his mind to it, stop. In this particular instance however...

"Okay, so you're implying that should these aliens make us have sex..."

"Should?" McKay interrupted, gesturing broadly at nothing in particular. "Hello. Naked!"

John chose to ignore him. He was well aware of the naked. He was, in fact, after seventeen years in the military used to being naked around other men. He was not, however, used to being naked around Dr. Rodney McKay and he was, well, aware of it. Them. Naked. It was a little harder to ignore his own thought processes but he was willing to take a crack at it.

"If," he repeated, stressing the word, "these aliens make us have sex, you think you'll be on top?"

"I believe the word you're looking for is topping."

"I know what the word is. And stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm naked!"

"I'm sorry; I'll just look at the other things in this very small room with us." He swept a scathing gaze over the four matt grey walls then the narrow slats that made up the equally nondescript floor and ceiling. "Oh wait, there isn't anything else to look at given that we've been locked naked in a small room and expected to have sex!"

"You don't know that!"

"Since the naked and the small room are inarguably evident, I assume you mean I don't know we're expected to have sex. Well, we are. The exact same thing happened to Dr. Jackson and General O'Neill on a number of different missions. Only he was Colonel O'Neill then. Dr. Jackson was quite explicit about how the colonel preferred to lie down because of his knees and have him ride...

"Whoa!" John waved both hands between them in the universal gesture for way, way, way too much information.

"Fine." McKay's shoulders did that smug rise and fall thing that wasn't quite a shrug. John did not watch the way it shifted the muscles across his chest. "The point is, which you seem to still be missing, is that we won't be allowed to leave this room until we have sex."

"The guys who locked us in here didn't say anything about..."

McKay's eyes widened sarcastically. Until Atlantis, John hadn't realized eyes could widen sarcastically. "Do you need them to spell it out for you?"

All right. He wasn't going to win this argument – hardly surprising considering who he was arguing with. Time to try another tactic, a flanking maneuver, and the word flank did not make him think of McKay's thighs. "Look, we may be locked in here together, and we may be naked, but they can't force us to have sex."

"You can't possibly believe that," McKay snorted. "They could threaten to harm Ford or Teyla unless we..." He waved a hand in the general direction of John's groin. John refused to look down. "It happened to SG-1," he added. "According to Dr. Jackson's notes there was more than one occasion when the colonel had to take one for the team."

"I really didn't need to know that."

"I mean, the two of them were on their knees so often they..."

"Shut up, McKay!"

"Fine." This time the not-quite-a-shrug made him look less smug and more disdainful. Unfortunately, the movement only served to illustrate how erect his nipples had become.

John thought very hard about cold showers, differential equations, and Liza Minnelli. When that didn't work he went back to thinking about how two members of his team might be in deadly danger and there was nothing he could do about it since he was locked naked in a small room with a delusional astrophysicist.

And there they were back to that naked thing again.

Which was getting a lot harder to ignore.

He ran both hands back through his hair and decided a little logic might not hurt. "All right, why do these aliens want us to have sex?"

"So you're agreeing that they do?"

"I'm not..."

"Asking why something is happening – or about to happen," McKay amended, "implies that the person asking agrees that something is, indeed about to happen."

"No, it doesn't."

"Then why were you asking?"

"Because..." Because they were naked together in a small room and maybe aliens did want them to have sex. How the hell did he know how aliens did things? "...because I want to know why you think aliens want us to have sex!"

"Yeah, well, why isn't important," McKay snapped impatiently. "How would I know why aliens do things? Maybe because it's Tuesday."

"It's Wednesday."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Well, that's not important either. What's important is that I'm not planning on starving to death while you deal with your internalized homophobia."

"I don't have internalized homophobia!"

"Sorry; you're right." The smile McKay shot him was edged. "You're expressing it."

"I'm not expressing anything..." He stomped on one of the floor slats. "...but a desire to get out of this room! And..." He could just touch the ceiling but the spaces between the boards were too narrow for him to get his fingers through. "...find the rest of my team..." Maybe he'd weakened the door the last time he'd thrown himself at it. "...and get the hell off this planet!" No. He hadn't. And ow! Sagging against the wood, he glared at McKay. "It has nothing to do with not wanting to have sex with you."

"You're no prize either."

"That's not what I meant."

"You have remarkably hairy legs..."

John couldn't help it. He glanced down.

"...and no ass to speak of. And your hair has enough personality that sex with you would practically qualify as a threesome and that, I've discovered, is the best way to be ignored by two people at once. But," he continued before John could say anything and, to be honest, John had no idea of what to say, "you have a brain you sometimes use, a nice smile, and don't think I haven't noticed you checking out my ass. So since sex is inevitable..." He uncrossed his legs and patted the bench beside him. "...let's stop wasting time and get to it."

"Get to it?" John was not looking at McKay's cock lying half hard against his right thigh. He was not. Oh, hell. Yes, he was. Liza Minnelli! Liza Minnelli! Liza Minnelli! Great. It wasn't working. Ford and Teyla! Ford and Teyla! Ford and Teyla also locked naked in a small room and having sex! Oh yeah. That was a big help. Not. Maybe he should just get with the program and have sex with McKay if that's what it took to get his team freed.

His dick seemed to think that was a good idea.

Yeah? What do you know? he asked it. You're a slut.

"Major? Do I have to define what 'get to it' means?"

"No!" He sat down on the bench, not quite shoulder to shoulder but close enough that the air seemed warmed by McKay's bulk. "I bet Dr. Jackson's got a smoother line than 'let's get to it'."

"Oh, I'm sorry if my seduction technique is a little rusty given that aliens are forcing us to have sex. Besides, Dr. Jackson's had more practice, hasn't he? And if Colonel O'Neill can..."

"Yeah, I get that."

"So?"

"So." Did he make the first move? McKay seemed to be the one on top of the situation. McKay on top. He turned his head to find McKay staring at him, the blue eyes half lidded as though the other man knew what he was thinking. Blood surged south.

"That's more like it. Now we can..."

Whatever it was they could do was cut off by a sudden deluge of warm water pouring between the slats in the ceiling and out through the spaces between the boards in the floor. Warm water was quickly followed by warm soapy water, followed by warm water again, followed by cold water.

Very cold water.

Which pretty much took care of any lingering remnant of John's erection.

The door opened and the priests approached with soft, warmed towels, wrapping them gently and taking them out to another small room where their gear was waiting. Their uniforms smelled... fresh. Even their weapons smelled clean.

"They didn't want us to have sex," John hissed to McKay as they got dressed. "They wanted us to get clean. It must have been some kind of purification ritual before we go further into the temple."

"It was an honest mistake, Major." McKay jerked on his pants.

"Hey, I'm not blaming you. After reading that stuff about SG-1, I'm not surprised you jumped to that conclusion."

McKay's eyes flashed. "I don't jump to conclusions."

"Come on, McKay, it was bit of a jump."

"Perhaps I presented a hypothesis without having all the data."

"No kidding. Doesn't matter." He slapped McKay's shoulder and hung the strap of his P-90 around his neck. "We got washed before anything could happen so no harm no foul. And we are never going to talk about this again."

"Oh, that's mature."

Before John could ask what he meant, the priests returned and they were swept out into a large reception area. Food and drink had been laid out and there, on the other side of the room...

"Ford! Teyla!"

"Sir!"

"Major Sheppard."

Watching them cross the room, it became obvious they were unharmed and considering that Teyla's hair was wet, and Ford had a bit of soap on his left eyebrow, it was also obvious they'd gone through the same ordeal. Well, maybe not the same ordeal, John amended silently, shooting a glance at McKay who was frowning at nothing in particular.

"And don't you smell fresh as a daisy," he declared cheerfully as soon as the four of them were together again.

"Thank you, sir."

He had to admit he was impressed by the way the lieutenant could say, "Bite me!" with a glance. And that was the last thing any of them got to say for a while that didn't involve treaties and toasts and demands if the food had citrus in it.

Walking back to the gate, he found himself beside Teyla. "So, locked naked in a small room."

"It was a bit abrupt perhaps but strangers are not permitted in the temple before they are purified."

"Yeah, well, it took them long enough."

He could hear the smile in her voice although she kept her gaze on the path. "That time is intended to be for meditation, Major."

"Meditation? Nice if they'd told us."

That pulled her attention around to him. "My people are familiar with the ritual, Major. I told Dr. McKay before we left Atlantis. Did he not inform you?"

"No." John cradled his weapon as he stared at McKay's back. "He did not."


***

John thought about why McKay hadn't told him during the debriefing. Thought about it while Elizabeth was congratulating them on the agreement they'd come to. The other agreement. Not the one he and McKay had come to. He draped one arm over the back of the chair and thought about it while he did not look at Dr. Rodney McKay.

He thought about it on the way back to his quarters.

He didn't bother thinking about it on the way to McKay's quarters. He'd come to a conclusion by then. Because there was no one in earshot, he said what he was thinking when McKay opened the door.

"Aliens want us to have sex."

"Very funny, Major."

As McKay stepped back to close the door, John followed him into the room. "And you're right, your seduction technique is a little rusty but bonus points for making use of a situation that let you gauge my reaction when it wouldn't get you shot."

"You wouldn't shoot me," McKay sniffed, arms folded.

"I've already shot you."

"That was different."

"I still shot you."

"Fine. You shot me. Shoot me now, if that's what you're here for and go away."

"Can't do that, Rodney."

His eyes widened slightly at the sound of his first name and under the suspicion was something that looked very much like hope. "Why not?"

"Aliens want us to have sex."

"Stop saying that."

"Okay." John took two steps forward and ran his tongue over his lower lip. "I want us to have sex."

"And you think you can just..."

Rodney's mouth tasted like coffee and power bars and very much like aliens wanted them to have sex. Really, really wanted them to have sex. A lot of sex. Holding the other man's body hard against his – where hard was rapidly becoming the operative word – John chewed on his lower lip and walked him back toward the bed. He twisted as they began to fall and they hit the mattress more or less at the same time.

"I knew you wanted..."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a genius." The hell with getting his shirt off, John mouthed Rodney's left nipple through the fabric while both hands worked at his fly. In fact, all four hands were working in the same general area getting in each other's way and slowing things down. He batted Rodney's aside. "Me first. Then you."

"And what makes you..."

"Strategy and tactics. Your tax dollars at work."

It was a lot faster one at a time then he had his hand around Rodney's cock and Rodney had his hand around his cock and the warm, calloused fingers felt more than amazing and both strategy and tactics took a hike while they enthusiastically jacked each other to completion. It didn't take long.

"Been a while," John said by way of apology as he lay, head on Rodney's shoulder, both of them sweaty and sticky and still mostly dressed.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Next time..."

"We should at least get our clothes off."

"Yeah." He shoved a hand up under Rodney's shirt so he could lightly brush a finger over his nipples, amazingly still erect. Go nipples. "So, Dr. Jackson and General O'Neill are really...?"

"According to Dr. Jackson's diary, they're going at it night and day like a pair of rapid mink-boys."

"Well, if I'm lucky, the general will be running my court martial."

"Not a problem." The fingers buried in his hair gave a light tug. "You're the ranking military officer in this galaxy, Major..."

"John. You get your hand around my dick; you get to call me John."

"Well, that'll help me narrow down the competition. Ow!" He grabbed John's hand and dragged it down to his waist. "As I was saying, you're the ranking military officer in this galaxy and I doubt you're going to court martial yourself. I'm sure the aliens considered that."

He yawned, closed his eyes, and murmured, "Smart aliens."


--end--