Misconstrued Misconduct 3

Dart

by Cynical_Coat

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asc/ccoat/miscon03.php
Summary: Off-world Shep has to draw on his own first-aid skills to save Rodney

"It's just a jungle, McKay... How bad could it be?' Rodney said angrily, his voice a shrill yet accurate mockery of Sheppard's own. "Pretty friggin' terrible, Major... Wouldn't you say?"

"Shut up, McKay."

"Oh, very good, Major. You are the paradigm of wit. The absolute epitome of--"

"*Shut up*, McKay." Much as he might be trying to win the man over, if he didn't shut his mouth pretty soon, John was going to shut it for him... and not in a good way. McKay snorted and kept quiet for all of five seconds.

"Why won't you just admit that we're lost and radio for help?"

"We aren't lost, McKay." He had lost track of how many times he had uttered that particular lie. Often enough not to have to see Rodney roll his eyes to know that he had.

"Oh, right... And I'm sure you know *exactly* where we are in this trackless mass of vegetation."

"Sure..." John said, grinning even though he really was losing his patience, and stopped in the middle of what sufficed them for a trail. "We're right here." His grin became a little more genuine when Rodney collided with his back with a sharp grunt.

"Idiot..." McKay mumbled, jerking away and stumbling in the undergrowth.

"Who's the comeback king now?" He turned to look at Rodney, who was still trying to catch his balance.

"You did *not* just say that..." Rodney snorted, something dangerously close to a smile pulling at his lips. John couldn't help but take a step closer to him.

"And if I did?" He breathed, not sure what he meant by that... By Rodney's slightly alarmed, yet bewildered expression, neither did he. Rodney shrugged it off without answering, and trudged a few feet beyond Sheppard.

"What are you using for navigation, anyway? A stapler?"

Before Sheppard could summon a suitably witty retort, something caught Rodney in the side of the neck, making him cry out in pain and alarm. John grabbed him by the vest before he could fall and looked wildly into the surrounding forest for their assailant even as he half dragged Rodney into a clearing. Still searching for the unseen foe, he propped Rodney against a tree.

"Automated defenses, Major. Stop doing that... you're--- making my neck hurt..." Rodney gasped, his chest heaving against John's arm.

"Sorry... I'm sure that has nothing to do with the dart stuck in it."

"Funny... very-- very funny." The wheezing that was creeping into his voice gave John cause for concern.

"How do you know it's automated?" He asked, trying to distract Rodney from the pain and keep him back from the edge of panic.

"The structures we saw earlier were similar.... to ancient Mayan temples on.... on Earth." He paused, trying with obvious difficulty to draw in more oxygen. "They were often booby trapped to keep out enemies and grave robbers... even... even thousands of years after their civilization fell..."

The area around the projectile was red and inflamed. John winced and asked a question that he hoped wouldn't send Rodney into one of his manly faints.

"What chance is there that it's poisoned. McKay?"

Rodney closed his eyes, and took several deep, shuddering breaths before answering.

"It's almost certainly poisoned, Major... That's how these things generally work... A dart isn't the most practical weapon, other... wise." He slumped slightly against John's arm, and John moved around in front of him so that he could more easily support Rodney while inspecting his injury. "You'll have to take it out..." His eyes snapped open when he felt John lift his arm, and he shook his head, drawing a hissing breath through clenched teeth at the sudden flare of pain. "Don't touch it, you moron! What if it's a contact poison?" His anger was mingled with a fear that John found both gratifying and oddly unsettling. Rodney McKay was worried about him. If he wasn't so worried in return, he might have taken the time to mentally congratulate himself...

"Sorry, Rodney... I seem to have left my handy-dandy dart remover back in the city." Before Rodney could protest again, he reached up and pinched the dart just where it entered his flesh, pulling it out as quickly and deftly as he could. Rodney cried out and then slumped even further against him, his head lolling about and finally coming to rest on John's shoulder. "Rodney? Rodney... damn it, you cannot pass out on me!" He manuvered the unconscious man back against the tree and thought back to everything he had ever learned about dart wounds and poison... not much, but he did remember some dim bit of trivia he had gleaned years ago in the Scouts. Something about snake bites... Pushing the fear of being poisoned himself to the back of his mind, he leaned in and put his lips to the wound, putting all his concentration into removing the poison. He pulled back and spat to the side, shaking his head. "God, I'm glad your unconscious..."

Because if Rodney was lucid, he might question the amount of enthusiasm that Sheppard was showing each time he leaned in close... as well as other things that became more than apparent at such close proximity.

The swelling had begun to recede, but Sheppard wanted to be sure that the poison was completely gone... he leaned in one last time--- just as Ford and Teyla burst into the clearing. Ford's mouth dropped open, and Teyla smirked, turning her attention to the surrounding trees. To both of them it seemed that Sheppard had finally gotten through to McKay, and hadn't been able to wait any longer... When he pulled away, spat to the side again, and turned to look at them, Rodney hanging limp in his arms, they both jumped to vastly different conclusions.

Teyla ran forward and helped to support Rodney, mentally calculating which direction would lead them back to the Stargate...

Ford raised his gun, because for one crazy instant he was convinced that Sheppard was a vampire.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" John asked as he slung one of Rodney's arms around his shoulders. Ford slowly lowered his gun.

"I guess not, sir... You being out in daylight and all..."

Distracted as he was, Sheppard decided to let that go for now.

"Let's get him back to Atlantis."

***

"What?"

"There's no evidence of poison in his system, Major... Though he does have one hell of a hickey..." Carson said, smirking and rubbing the back of his neck. "Too bad you didn't bring this, ah, 'dart' back with you..."

John narrowed his eyes.

"You don't believe me."

"Well, ah... in light of recent events and, ah, rumors... It does seem a tad unlikely." He shrugged, but further conversation was cut short by a groan from McKay. They moved back to his bedside.

"What the hell happened this time?" Rodney snapped weakly as soon as he registered the fact that he was in the infirmary.

"Apparently nothing. " John said lightly, avoiding Carson's gaze.

"Oh..." He closed his eyes again, and from the soft snores that started up almost immediately, fell asleep. John sighed, hoping that Rodney would remember more than that when he really woke up... he was almost certain that they'd made a break through.

"I'd really like a sample of that poison, Major."

John looked at Carson sharply.

"Thought you didn't believe me?"

"Oh, I don't... but the idea of something that can shut that man up is even more unbelievable."

Wishing for a moment that he could get away with decking their chief medical officer, John stalked out of the infirmary.

'Operation Win Over Rodney McKay' was going well enough, all things considered... but 'Operation Keep the Whole Base From Finding Out' had just hit another major snag.

-fin-

Next: A Little Bit Of Cheer