"No," Rodney said loudly and firmly. They had been allowed to withdraw to a small, sterile room to discuss their options. "No, no, no. No more rituals. What is it with primitive cultures, no offense intended, and their obsessive need to ritualize everything? It's as bad as Hallmark and a card for every occasion." His aside was aimed at Teyla, who had opened her mouth to speak.
Teyla closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes, obviously waiting for the right time to interject her usual, soothing verbal input. Rodney knew that Teyla thought he needed 'managing', that she would wait patiently until the right time and then deliver her insight with that air of grace that always made him feel petty and small. She didn't say much, but when she rendered an opinion, it was with the precision, beauty and dead-on accuracy of one of her Bantos attacks. He'd also come to rely on her input very much, though he'd die of embarrassment before admitting it.
"I thought you said this polymer could be useful." The Colonel offered his two cents worth in that lazy drawl of his, granting syllables to the word 'polymer' that the English language never intended. It made Rodney's hand itch to smack him. Smacking was good. It distracted him from other things he could picture his hands doing to the Colonel.
"It is, it is," Rodney ground out. "Extremely useful. It has properties that I can't explain and the implications for its application are staggering. And the word is 'pol-uh-mer' not 'poly-mer', Colonel."
Sheppard merely frowned. "That's what I said."
"No, you said 'poly-mer'. It's 'pol-uh-mer'. Are you saying you can't hear the difference? Oh, you know what, never mind. The point is, no to the ritual." He turned to Teyla and said somewhat plaintively, "Can't you talk them out of it? I don't want to return to Atlantis painted blue, or shaved hairless or tattooed or married. I trust Ronon to shoot things and carry me back to the Gate when necessary. I trust you to smooth over any ruffled feathers I might have caused and to make friends with everyone we meet and cover our six when the people aren't friendly anyway, which often seems to be the case. I trust him," he hooked a thumb in Sheppard's direction, "to be ridiculously charming and to come up with ludicrous plans to save our asses when the shit hits the fan. I trust you guys with my life. It's these people I don't trust."
"Nor they us," Teyla said calmly, landing her verbal one-two punch after all. "I believe that is the point of the ritual, Rodney."
"Don't know what you're griping about, McKay," Ronon grumbled, reminding Rodney of a bear at feeding time at the zoo. "It's Sheppard that'll get the worst of it anyway."
"Yeah, Rodney," Sheppard began with a smirk, only to trail off as Rodney threw a speculative gleam in his direction. Sheppard had the look of a cat that had just walked into a plate glass door and was pretending he'd meant to do that. Rodney had to suppress an internal snigger. This could be good. Sheppard rolled a wary eye in Ronon's direction. "Um, Ronon? How do you figure that?"
Ronon flashed a look at Teyla that said "Earthers", clearly pitying and superior at the same time before turning back to Rodney and Sheppard. "Well, the ritual is about trust, right?"
Rodney nodded and noted out of the corner of his eye that Sheppard did the same. "Well, it goes without saying that we trust Sheppard as our leader, otherwise we wouldn't follow him or we'd have killed him long ago." The smirk Ronon gave Sheppard was toothy and lupine and Rodney adjusted his mental image of Ronon accordingly, recognizing that as powerful as a bear might be, it was too lumbering and slow to describe Ronon.
"Gee thanks, buddy," Sheppard's smile was more of a grimace and Rodney caught Teyla hiding a smile of her own.
"So," Ronon continued, "It only figures that the ritual will involve placing Sheppard in a position of having to trust us."
"Okay, well, if Rodney doesn't think it's worth it then I guess we'll just head back to the gate now." Sheppard gave a little nod like the decision had been made and started to turn for the exit.
"Oh wait a minute, not so fast," Rodney interjected, starting to enjoy the mission for the first time since the word 'ritual' had been mentioned. "Like I said, very useful polymer. Able to withstand a wide range of heat and cold, combines tensile strength with a unique flexibility. I think we need to secure the possibility of a trade alliance here so we can investigate this polymer more."
The look Sheppard shot him said that the Colonel knew exactly what Rodney was up to and that he wouldn't be forgetting that any time soon.. The promise of unspecified retribution shouldn't have felt as hot as it did and Rodney tried to firmly quash the little shiver of excitement it roused in him. Sadly, one had to get one's thrills were one could; Rodney recognizing that this was as close as he'd ever get to having the kind of attention he'd like from Sheppard.
He knew that Sheppard would give in. Rodney knew how badly Sheppard wanted to be able to tell Elizabeth they'd found some unique and cool technology for a change. They'd been going through a dry spell lately as far as bringing back anything useful on their missions, save for the recent supply of tormack. The tuber that Ronon had somewhat possessively negotiated for had proven to be highly versatile and tasty, once you got past the violent purple color of the vegetable. Rodney had hopes that the kitchen staff would be successful in their boast of creating a sweet tormack pie and his stomach growled just a little at the thought of the tormack patties, fried to perfection, he'd eaten just that morning.
Sheppard shot Rodney's stomach a look of amused disbelief before he glanced pointedly at his watch. Rodney countered by folding his arms across his chest and waiting Sheppard out, allowing the 'well?' expression to settle on his face. Everyone was staring at the Colonel, who finally sighed and began to shrug out of his pack. "Okay," he said in resignation, "Let's get this show on the road."
The Delvians received the information that the team would be participating in the ritual without batting an eye. The three men representing the Delvian society were all dressed in similar, semi-formal garb: cream colored tunics of a rich, soft weave over light brown pants that could have been tailored, they fit so well. The tunics were trimmed in bright scarlet piping, and met at the neck in a stiff, almost clerical collar. Their leader, Feldan, was an older man, graying hair pulled back in a braid, his face lined with a lifetime's exposure to the sun. Feldan merely inclined his head at Sheppard's acceptance, showing little expression at the news. "Sekmar will take you to be prepared for the ritual, Colonel Sheppard."
The man called Sekmar stepped forward. Sheppard raised a hand. "Just a thing or two before we begin, Feldan." He indicated Rodney. "Dr. McKay here has some significant food allergies, so if this ritual requires him to eat or drink anything during the course of it, Dr. McKay may have to decline."
"Understood." Feldan inclined his head again. "It would appear unlikely that Dr. McKay would be required to ingest anything, but we will keep that in mind."
Rodney was oddly touched that Sheppard had thought to bring this up in advance, not that he wasn't capable himself of vociferously declining to eat or drink anything that might possibly have citrus in it. But still. A sudden guilty conscience prompted him to speak. "What exactly does this ritual entail? How do we know the Colonel won't be harmed?"
Ronon rolled his eyes.
"I think we covered that already, Rodney," Teyla reminded him again in a slightly-less-than-her-usual gentle tone.
"I believe I know what Dr. McKay is trying to ask," Feldan cut in smoothly as Rodney opened his mouth to clarify his position to Teyla. Feldan turned slightly towards Rodney, a bland expression on his face. "Dr. McKay. You are concerned for the well-being of your leader, which is commendable. The ritual will require Colonel Sheppard to place his trust in each of his team members. I cannot tell you that the experience is without risk, only that a favorable outcome is dependent on the actions of each of you during your participation."
Rodney felt his heart plummet to his bootlaces. This was not the answer he'd hope to hear and he knew the look he shot over at Sheppard was simply full of dismay. Trust had become a loaded word between them ever since Doranda and the idea that he could somehow fail Sheppard here and place him in jeopardy made him feel ill inside.
Surprisingly, Sheppard returned his look with a silent acknowledgment that everything would be okay and for Rodney not to get his knickers in a twist and besides, Ronon and Teyla were here as well. It was both a little condescending and weirdly comforting at the same time. Rodney was relieved to know that this telepathy thing he had with Sheppard still worked on occasion.
Sheppard turned towards Sekmar with a depreciating little half-shrug. "Lead the way."
Feldan spoke to the remainder of the team after Sheppard's departure. "If you will come with me, I will take you to the room of participation. Please leave your equipment and weapons here." The other man with him said nothing but followed in his wake as Feldan turned to leave, compliance with his request already assumed.
Rodney exchanged what he knew must have been a grim expression with Ronon and Teyla. He noted the tightening of Ronon's mouth at the Delvian request, but they all gave in, piling their packs on the floor beside Sheppard's. Ronon laid down his gun with an expression that said it damned well better be there when he returned or heads would roll.
"I don't see anything wrong in asking a few questions before we go blindly into another ritual," Rodney hissed at his companions as they trailed down the corridor behind the Delvian delegation. "Elizabeth had to re-institute that ruling declaring off-world marriages null and void after the last time Lorne's team came back from a ritual ceremony. Parrish still blushes when you ask him about it."
"I believe Elizabeth stated that the ritual marriages were null and void only if the parties involved declared them to be," Teyla said benignly, moving with her usual, dancer-like grace.
"Really? Huh." Rodney hadn't heard that one. Which could make for all sorts of interesting ramifications.
"It would not be in the best interests of the Delvians to have a ritual that ends in harm to one of the visiting participants," Teyla added kindly, trying to diffuse some of Rodney's fears.
"Don't screw anything up, McKay and we'll be fine." Ronon's pronouncement earned him a reproving look from Teyla, but he just grinned unrepentantly.
"I'll make a deal with you, Ronon," Rodney felt his lip curl into a sneer as they were ushered into another smallish room. "I won't screw up if you promise not to take out any frustrations by blowing things up."
The second, silent Delvian cast a wide-eyed look back in Rodney's direction, but then rapidly re-directed his attention to Feldan again. Rodney ignored everyone in favor of checking out the room. The room, like all the others they had been shown thus far, was devoid of any decoration. A large control console was situated against the wall to their left as they entered. Another door was present on the far wall. In the center of the room, a long, narrow box-like affair lay on the floor. Rodney moved forward to glance inside. Its smooth, white walls revealed a shallow tub-like arrangement in the floor and the various nozzled ports on the sides reminded Rodney of a small Jacuzzi. The floor around the recessed box was padded with thick cushions, resplendent in their dyed colors.
Rodney was just about to ask the purpose of the equipment when Feldan began to speak. "We are pleased that you have chosen to participate in the ritual. Not all visitors to our world chose to do so, but we have found it to be the best means of determining whether persons met would form a suitable alliance with our people. Please be advised that once the ritual begins, you are free to act in any manner that you see fit, however, we ourselves will be unable to intervene in the ensuing ritual until it has reached its natural conclusion."
That sounded vaguely unsettling to Rodney and he wondered briefly what would happen if he suddenly lodged a protest. The thought of Sheppard's expression as they went home, yet again empty handed, while Rodney tried to explain that he 'just had a bad feeling' about this made him shudder internally. Yeah. Right.
A tone sounded in the room, low and harmonious, like that of a deep wind chime or a gong. Rodney looked around unsuccessfully to see if he could spot the source. Feldan intoned melodiously, "The ritual has begun."
Rodney shot a glance at the rest of his team mates, unsurprised at Teyla's look of serene patience; after all, she meditated for crying out loud. He was startled however, at the fleeting look of unease that crossed Ronon's features and instead of increasing his anxiety, it perversely settled him down. At least he wasn't the only one feeling weird about this. A snarky comment was just begging to made itself heard in the silence that stretched out after Feldan's announcement, but Rodney was afraid that the lack of an obvious start to any ritualistic proceedings was part of the proceedings and he was concerned he would mess things up from the very start simply by being himself. He stomped down hard on any thought of speaking.
A moment later, the thought of all speech was driven from him as Sekmar and Sheppard entered the room from the far door. Sekmar came in the room quietly, and motioned to Sheppard to stand by the device on the floor as he shut the door and then re-joined the Delvian delegation. Sheppard moved over to the device as directed and came to a halt, waiting with apparent ease for the next part of the ritual to begin.
He was dressed in a short black robe that ended about mid-thigh in length and, as far as Rodney could tell, he was wearing nothing else. The material was a shiny blue-black in color and shimmered in the light from above with an iridescent sheen each time Sheppard shifted position. The dark, glistening material contrasted with Sheppard's skin, despite his light tan, making it seem paler than it really was. He caught Rodney's eye and his expression was blandly neutral, with a faint underlying hint of menace should word of his appearance in this ritual ever get out.
He took Rodney's breath away. His dark hair was standing up in more than its usual disarray, probably from just pulling off his shirt over his head, Rodney realized. The robe was tied at the waist, but the edges of the cloth met in a 'v' over his chest, revealing dark, curling hair at the opening. A glint of silver at his neck attracted Rodney's attention and he realized that though Sheppard had stripped off everything else, he had retained his dog tags. He stood quietly, awaiting further direction, hands at his sides. Only the unconscious clenching and unfurling of the toes of one bare foot indicated that he might be concerned in any way about the proceedings to come and as Rodney's eye was drawn to Sheppard's foot, he became aware of the movement and abruptly ceased it. He looked like a porn star awaiting his cue for his next scene, Rodney realized. The thought of Sheppard as a porn star made Rodney start to get disconcertingly hard and he quickly had to clear his mind of a naked Sheppard, accepting a blow job, his hand rocking as it rested on his lover's moving head, Sheppard pumping his hips into the willing flesh of...yeah. Right. Not going there, remember? Rodney swallowed convulsively.
"Please, Colonel Sheppard," Feldan indicated the recessed box on the floor. "If you would enter the chamber?"
Sheppard shot a wry look at his team and surreptitiously tucked one end of the robe around his thigh as he stepped over into the unit, as though afraid of revealing too much as he positioned himself in the box. Rodney came over to the edge as Sheppard lay down, Ronon and Teyla following behind him. Sheppard looked horribly like he was lying in a coffin as he laced his fingers across his abdomen and glanced up at the team around him.
"So now what?" Sheppard gave a sort of shit-eating grin and Rodney realized abruptly that he was nervous. Of course. The Colonel hated not being in control.
"Everything will be alright," Rodney said seriously.
Sheppard shot him a look that seemed to say 'when the heck did you start channeling your inner Teyla?' but Teyla herself placed a hand on Rodney's arm as she leaned in with a smile. "Rodney is correct, Colonel."
"Of course I am," Rodney said a shade tartly. Everyone always acted like he was totally clueless when it came to other people. That wasn't true; it's just that it seldom mattered to him enough to make the effort. "I'm always..." he broke off suddenly as the nozzles on the sides of the tub began to release a black liquid into the unit at high velocity.
"Sheppard!" Rodney said sharply, watching in horror as the tub rapidly filled with the viscous, black substance. He reached out with a hand for Sheppard to grab.
"What the fuck?" Sheppard was startled into saying before he began to sit up, reaching out for Rodney's hand as well. Before he could grasp Rodney's hand, a wave of fluid surged up and over him, knocking him back under its surface. Sheppard's hand flailed for the side of the tub, missing Rodney's hand altogether and slipping beneath the surface as well.
"Sheppard!" Rodney yelled, reaching into the liquid to try and pull Sheppard up from beneath it. He could see Sheppard with his head thrown back, eyes and mouth clenched shut as he tried to push his way up out of the liquid, only now it seemed to have solidified into a latex-like material. Rodney was incapable of pushing his hands through it; Sheppard likewise unable to extricate himself from beneath it. "Ronon, help!" Rodney ordered in frustration.
"Wait," Teyla said with a grip on Rodney's arm. "Look."
Sheppard had continued to struggle against the material in the chamber for a moment, pushing his face up against it, smashing his features into its resisting layer, like a bank robber with a stocking over his head. He had then fallen back and the 'liquid' had tightened around him, until all he could move was the tips of his fingers and toes, as well as the muscles in his abdomen. He finally had to take a breath and Rodney released the breath he had not known he was holding when he saw that Sheppard was able to breath through the alien material. The polymer, he thought, and his mind went crazy with all the possible applications.
"He can breathe," Teyla murmured, sounding relieved herself.
Rodney leaned forward in fascination, watching Sheppard's chest expand and then the muscles of his abdomen rise and fall as he continued to breathe, taking in deep breaths from his diaphragm. "Ohmygod, look at this. Do you see the way you can see every fold of the robe? Look here, you can see the outline of his dog tags under the cloth. And look, his hair looks like he just got out of the shower or something."
Rodney threw a delighted grin over his shoulder at Ronon and Teyla. Ronon looked slightly bug-eyed, like he couldn't believe what had just happened and Rodney wanted to laugh. "This is amazing," Rodney continued, spreading his hands out over Sheppard's body as he spoke, palms hovering just a short distance above him. "It's like the liquid was spray-painted on him. No, no, it's like he's been vacuum-sealed."
Rodney squatted down for a closer look. Sheppard's eyes were closed but Rodney could clearly see his eyeballs moving from side to side behind the lids. His hair stood up in spiky perfection, like it had been gelled. Rodney could make out the detail of Sheppard's perpetual five o'clock shadow, as well as that nearly indistinguishable mole on the left side of his face. The robe gathered in artful pleats along the lines of his body. Even the curling chest hair was plainly visible. He was like a living, breathing statue carved out of ebony. As Rodney soaked up the details he gradually became aware of something else as well.
Sheppard was quietly freaking out. His mouth opened and closed a few times. The tendons in his neck strained as though he were continuing to attempt to sit up. His fingertips gripped at the bed of the tub and looked as though at times he was trying to push himself up by his fingers alone.
"Teyla," Rodney said uncertainly, but Teyla was already slipping past him to kneel on the pillows, reaching out with her small hands to stroke John on the shoulder. At her touch, the eyes under their lids jerked and Sheppard held his breath for a second, but Teyla used to hands to convey soothing comfort and Sheppard began to visibly relax under her ministrations.
With a frown, Ronon crossed to the other side of the box and knelt near Sheppard's head. He leaned in and took Sheppard by either side of his face, a move that startled him into opening his eyes and trying to tip his head back. He blinked a few times and seemed to realize that he could leave his eyes open without harm. Even his eyelashes were visible in perfect detail, Rodney thought, missing the hazel color of John's eyes however.
John tilted his face slightly in Ronon's direction, a slight frown between his eyes. Ronon placed both of his large thumbs on Sheppard's forehead and began smoothing them back and forth in the pattern of a 'T', a look of utter concentration on his face. He drew his thumbs down along the bridge of Sheppard's nose, tracing circles under his eyes as he went.
Rodney knelt beside Teyla. "What are you doing?" He asked Ronon quietly.
"Satedan ritual," Ronon answered in all seriousness. With his dreads tied back behind his head and the look of complete absorption on his features, Rodney was startled in to realizing how young Ronon looked, how young he must have been all those years ago when he was made a Runner. Rodney tried to envision himself in his early twenties, on the run and being hunted by the Wraith and his mind boggled. When Rodney was that age, he was just finishing up his third PhD. His biggest worry was defending his thesis.
Ronon pushed his thumbs out along Sheppard's cheekbones and gently alongside his nose and across his lips before sliding his hands down along Sheppard's neck. Underneath Ronon's ministrations, Sheppard closed his eyes again and arched his neck slightly. Rodney noticed that he no longer appeared to be fighting the film covering him.
"Rodney," Teyla said quietly, flicking a glance in his direction, even as she continued to smooth her hands over Sheppard's shoulders and chest.
Oh. Right. Somehow the idea of touching Sheppard like this seemed totally inappropriate, but Rodney had to admit, he really wanted to know what the solidified material felt like. Okay, fine. And what Sheppard...John...felt like too. Tentatively, he placed a hand on Sheppard's arm, attempting to isolate the fine robe from his skin and finding that though he could trace every detail under his fingertips, he was not capable of lifting the cloth from Sheppard's body. He let his fingers trail down John's arm, feeling the slight turn of his palm upwards when Rodney reached the end of his wrist. Pushing his fingers into the cool slickness that was Sheppard's palm, Rodney let his fingers do the talking.
Even as his other hand reached out to explore the folds of cloth coming off John's sleeve, Rodney tapped out in Morse code into John's hand, "It's okay. We've got you."
He saw the frown and the raised eyebrow before John mouthed the words 'slow down.'
Rodney repeated his message slowly, with infinite patience, as though speaking to a toddler. "It's okay, you idiot. We've got you, you moron."
He knew the moment John got the message when a smile broke out over his face.
"I believe the Colonel is beginning to relax," Teyla said quietly. Ronon was continuing his symmetrical tracing of Sheppard's body in silence, Teyla and Rodney both moving their hands out of the way as he worked his way past them. Teyla returned her light touch to Sheppard's shoulder once Ronon had passed. Rodney reached out, as though drawn beyond his control, to follow the chain of Sheppard's dog tags down his neck towards his chest with a fingertip.
When he reached the tags themselves, Rodney placed his palm flat on Sheppard's chest, covering the tags with his hand. He wasn't certain why he did that; only that it felt right. He could feel Sheppard's heart thudding beneath his palm and he noticed that Sheppard's respiration was increasing again.
That wasn't the only thing that was increasing. As Sheppard took slow, deep breaths, abdomen dropping further with every exhale, Rodney noticed that Sheppard was starting to get hard. His breathing pattern suddenly took on a different meaning for Rodney as he recognized that Sheppard was no longer fighting the experience but had given into it, reveling in the touch coming at him from all sides.
Feeling his own respiration increase as well, Rodney slowly moved his hand down Sheppard's stomach, feeling the drop as Sheppard sucked in his breath and the slight lift to his pelvis as Rodney pushed his hand down the planes of his abdominal muscles. Rodney wet his lips and moved his hand down further, cupping a hipbone in passing, stroking the strong thigh muscle as he worked his hand down toward Sheppard's knee. He as he left the edge of the robe, he could feel the individual hairs on Sheppard's leg as though he was stroking bare skin and yet his hand slid over the overlying material with a sensuous softness that added a whole other level of sensation to the touch. Sheppard's dick pushed up against the fabric binding him, and Rodney spared a passing thought for how that had to be uncomfortable. He almost reached out to touch it, to fondle Sheppard right there in front of everyone, when he caught himself with a sucking breath and jerked his hand away from Sheppard's body as though it burned.
Teyla caught his eye, her expression knowledgeable and yet steadying at the same time. Ronon was continuing to work his way methodically down towards Sheppard's calves and feet, not looking up at Rodney's hasty movement.
Sheppard's eyes remained closed, his lips slightly parted, his head tipped back as though lost in sensation. Rodney couldn't help it; he reached out to touch John once more, laying a hand on his chest, pushing a thumb across one peaked nipple. A smile quirked at the corner of John's mouth at Rodney's touch and Rodney had to stifle a groan. Hating himself for his lack of self-control where Sheppard was concerned, Rodney removed his hand once more, sitting back on his heels.
A small frown formed between John's eyes. Rodney resisted it; he wasn't going to touch John again, not until he could do it without making a fool of himself. Ronon seemed to have come to the end of his own private ritual and was sitting back on his heels as well. Teyla glanced sideways at Rodney and continued her light, stroking touches around Sheppard's shoulders and neck, but after a moment she too, withdrew her hands and frowned.
"Rodney," she began, concern evident in her voice. "I believe the material is getting warmer."
"What?" Rodney leaned in over her shoulder, placing a hand where Teyla had last touched. She was right. The material felt decidedly warmer. As Rodney watched, John winced, trying unsuccessfully to turn his head, fingers flexing again. With his lips he mouthed the word, 'hot'. The robe itself appeared to be melting or evaporating, the folds blurring and blending into the surrounding blackness. The words on John's tags became suddenly, vividly clear. To Rodney's horror, steam began to lift up from the surface of the polymer, tiny beads of moisture forming along the gleaming, black compound.
Rodney was up in a flash and headed for the console. The Delvian delegation stood in his way. "You must stop this!" Rodney snapped his hand in the direction of the tub. Ronon was right behind Rodney; Teyla continued to kneel on the floor beside John. "Something is malfunctioning—the stuff's heating up. We've got to get Sheppard out of there."
"We are sorry," Feldan said quietly, though he certainly didn't look sorry to Rodney. "As we said before, we are unable to stop the ritual once it has begun."
"I'm not asking you to stop the ritual, just get Sheppard out of...oh, you know what? Out of my way." Rodney shoved his way through the delegation towards the console.
"I'm sorry," Feldan objected, "but we cannot permit you access to our..."
Suddenly Ronon had made a knife appear and had the youngest delegate by the throat, sharp blade pressed up against the man's bobbing Adam's apple. "Get Sheppard out," he growled.
Feldan looked quietly resigned to the possibility of seeing his fellow delegate have his throat cut. "As I told you before, we cannot stop the ritual. Only you can. The parameters of the ritual have been set up by you yourselves. We have no control over the system."
"Of all the stupid, moronic, idiotic systems to create for yourselves," Rodney snarled as he sat down at the console, fingers flying over the keyboard as he called up data. "Yes, yes, by all means, design a program over which you have no control. Ronon, stop threatening the man; just keep them off me while I work."
Ronon released the Delvian, who rubbed his throat and edged away from Ronon to join his party. Ronon waved the knife in the direction of all three men when Feldan made an attempt to step forward.
"Hurry," Teyla's voice sounded urgently behind them.
Rodney spared her a quick glance. "Teyla, you're going to burn your hands."
Teyla was kneeling carefully over John, one palm cupping his cheek while the other hand soothed his shoulder. "If it is burning me, than surely it is doing worse to him." Her voice carried an uncharacteristic measure of anger and it took Rodney a nanosecond to realize it was aimed at the Delvians, not him.
Rodney forcibly re-directed his focus to the screen in front of him, willing himself to intuitively grasp the method behind the programming here and institute the necessary changes in time. "I think I've got it!" His voice was triumphant when the correct sequence appeared and he rapidly introduced the changes. "Well?" he asked of Teyla over his shoulder, not tearing his eyes from the screen.
"I believe you are correct," Teyla sounded relieved. "Already the surface temperature seems cooler."
Rodney rocked back in the seat of his chair, tipping his head back and releasing his breath in a big gusty sigh of relief. Then he sat up sharply, ready to turn his ire on Feldan and his smarmy little group of diplomats.
"Rodney..." Teyla's voice trailed off uncertainly and Rodney got quickly to his feet, coming over to crouch down by her side.
"Oh no. No, no, no." Rodney looked down to see John taking progressively shallower breaths as the polymer around him continued to drop in temperature, starting to harden into a firm shell. He reached out for John in disbelief and jerked his hand back at the feel of the frosty surface. Even as he stared down, a layer of feathery crystals began to etch its way across John's still form. "Oh crap."
He launched himself at the delegation, only to be caught by Ronon. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong," he yelled. "Tell me!"
"We honestly do not know," Feldan said helplessly, looking slightly worried.
"I can help you with that memory loss," Ronon sneered as he let Rodney go, the better to finger his knife.
"There's no time for that." Rodney waved dismissively at the delegation. He plunged his fingers into his hair, pulling at the short strands at his temples in frustration.
"Smash the equipment," Ronon suggested, fingers twitching as though simply waiting for Rodney to give the word.
"No!" Rodney shouted, turning away to pace in a small circle. "Think, think, think." He came to a halt looking down at John. John appeared to be holding his breath, expanding his chest and forcing his body up and out as much as possible so that when the final solidification occurred, there would at least be a tiny measure of breathing room once he relaxed. Only when the material froze completely, he would not likely be able to breathe through it any more, not to mention that he was rapidly freezing to death as well...
"Rapid freezing," Rodney said aloud. He snapped his fingers and dove down beside Teyla, wincing at the complaint his knees made with the effort. "Rapid freezing. Makes plastic brittle. Maybe...just maybe..."
Teyla seemed to get where he was going even without the benefit of Sheppard telepathy and she was already moving out of his way, just as Rodney swung his hand back and brought it down across Sheppard's face with a resounding smack. "Ow! Crap!" Rodney shook out his hand and clutched it briefly to his chest as Teyla reached in and broke off a piece of the polymer covering John's mouth. His lips were blue under the plastic mold, but he struggled to take in a breath just the same.
"Ronon!" Rodney and Teyla worked at John's face until Ronon came over and thumped down once, hard, on John's chest and the entire shell cracked and began to split apart. Ronon dug his fingers into either side of the shell and pried it apart, John taking in a deep gasping breath as he did so.
John lay naked within the bed of the tub, blinking and stupefied, either from the sudden return of light or from the numbing cold. He looked utterly miserable and as far from sexy as Rodney could imagine and Rodney had never been so glad to see someone in his entire life. Well, actually, he had. Come to think of it, he felt this way pretty much every time Sheppard managed a last-minute Hail Mary escape from certain death. He grinned and held out a hand to Sheppard, who grasped it weakly and allowed himself to be pulled up out of the tub.
"Teyla, some clothes," Rodney began, but the soft, silky touch of fur brushed his face and he looked up in surprise to see Feldan offering a robe made out of a shining, white pelt. Rodney accepted it with a scowl and together the team assisted Sheppard to his feet, Rodney dropping the robe around his shoulders and tucking it in as Sheppard hunched down into its warmth, his dark hair in startling contrast to the white fur. Rodney snagged the chair from the console and pulled it over for Sheppard to sit in, while John pulled his hands and feet into the folds of the robe and shivered. He squinted up at Rodney from within the robe's collar, eyes reassuringly John, and Rodney felt immeasurably relieved.
"The ritual is completed," Feldan said formally, and then a smile suddenly lit his face. "This is a moment of great joy. Whenever we meet someone for the first time and they express a desire to be trading partners, we chose three members of our society to greet them and determine what sort of people they are. The ritual can be a time of great trial, revealing your true natures. You are all very dedicated to the well-being of each other and you are determined to find a solution when things begin to go badly. You are prepared to use force if necessary, but your sense of justice is tempered with mercy. You are not entirely truthful," and here Feldan eyed Ronon's knife briefly, "but your caution in showing complete trust in us shows prudence. You are capable of...unique approaches to usual circumstances." He inclined his head towards Rodney. "Never have we met anyone capable of modifying the program of the ritual once it has begun. Had you done nothing, the material covering Colonel Sheppard would have merely evaporated, though of course, you could not have known that. That you were able to change the parameters of the programming itself is...impressive. You will do well as trading partners."
"And if I'd killed you all instead?" Ronon rumbled softly, the possibility still present in his voice.
Feldan shrugged slightly. "The three delegates are always prepared to die at the hands of the visitors. Had you killed us, all of you would have been killed yourselves—we have armed guards standing by. Had you refused to participate in the ritual, you would have been escorted to the Gate and invited not to return. But you completed the ritual successfully." He smiled again.
"I can't believe you people!" Rodney lashed out at the Delvians in reaction to the stress of what had just occurred. "You almost killed him. It's a wonder you have any trade alliances at all, if this is an example of the kinds of hoops you make people jump through. You know what? Keep your stuff, we don't want it."
"Not so fast, McKay," John's voice was somewhat muffled by the robe, but he still managed to sound authoritative.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Rodney shot him a sour look. "You can't mean that after they put you through this, you're just going to embrace them and be best buds now?"
Sheppard gave Rodney that cocky, smirky grin that only he knew how to give. "So I got a little hot, so I got a little cold. No big deal. No harm done." He flashed a smile at the delegation and then gave a violent shiver.
Rodney aimed a dirty look in his direction, to which Sheppard responded by mouthing 'poly-mer', and then had the audacity to wink.
"Please accept some refreshments on our behalf. Perhaps the Colonel would care for a hot drink? And some clothing too, I believe. Sekmar can return you to the preparation room, Colonel Sheppard, so that you may get dressed. If the rest of you would join me, we can retire to more amenable surroundings." Feldan was suddenly the expansive host now.
John wobbled slightly on rising and Rodney grabbed him by the arm, hand sinking into the lush pile of the fur. He couldn't help a little flexing of his fingers into it; the fur was so sensuous to the touch. "I'll go with the Colonel. We'll meet you there."
"Ronon and I will retrieve our belongings as well." Teyla's expression was smoothly serene once more, but Ronon looked as though he'd like to punch something. Rodney understood how he felt completely.
Which is perhaps why he was a bit abrupt with the Colonel as they went to retrieve his clothing. When Sekmar retired to allow Sheppard privacy to get dressed, Rodney began his rant.
"I don't understand how this could possibly make these people good trading partners. They're obviously nuts. Seriously, Colonel, it isn't worth risking your life over shit like this."
"You don't think?" Sheppard flicked an eye up at Rodney from where he had taken a seat on a bench beside his neatly folded clothing. He just sat there for a moment, rubbing his feet together, still hunched down into the robe, hands tucked up into the sleeves.
"No. Well, okay, useful polymer and all that. I really wish you could have seen yourself in it—it was amazing." Rodney began to get animated in his description. "You would have thought it was too cool...the way you could breathe right through it, and the way it outlined every little detail...okay, you know what? Not the point here. Even really cool polymers are not worth your life."
"I'll keep that in mind, next time." Sheppard said dryly. He sank into silence again.
"You okay?" Rodney asked suddenly, hearing the worry in his voice sharpen his tone and wishing it didn't make him sound like he was angry.
"Yeah," Sheppard gave him a half-strength smile. "Just cold, that's all." He reached for his pile of clothing, pulling it closer to him.
"You're sure?" Rodney took a step forward. "No after effects from breathing in the alien compound or almost being turned into a Popsicle? I don't need to get Ronon to run back for Carson, do I?"
Sheppard gave another little shudder, ducking his face away from Rodney. "I'm fine."
"Shep-pard," Rodney groused. "Hey. Look at me."
When Sheppard continued avoid Rodney's eye contact, he came up and put a hand on John's shoulder. "Look, I know it had to freak you out a little, being so totally out of control like that...and what with the virtual immobilization and then the thinking you were going to die..."
"I kinda liked it."
Rodney wasn't sure he'd heard John correctly at first and his hand tightened convulsively on John's fur-covered shoulder. John looked up at him then, pupils dark and dilated. He unconsciously made a pass over his lips with his tongue and then said huskily. "Isn't that just a kick in the pants? I liked it. I liked not being in control for a change, not having to think, just to feel."
"Oh." Rodney realized that he was stroking the soft fur at Sheppard's shoulder and abruptly withdrew his hand. For a split second he could envision Sheppard going down on his knees in front of Rodney, fur pooling on the floor around him as he unzipped Rodney's fly and took Rodney's cock into his mouth. Because Rodney told him to do so.
That telepathy thing must have been working again because John suddenly looked up, his expression momentarily hungry. There was a long moment of tension between them, where Rodney longed to reach out and thread his fingers through Sheppard's hair, just as he had done with the robe. Rodney nervously cleared his throat and stepped back.
"Well, if you're okay then," he said, "I should just leave you to get dressed so we can get back to the delegation."
Sheppard's features seemed to freeze up, as though he was encased in the polymer again and then he slipped back into his lazy persona like it was his uniform. "You do that, McKay." He turned his back on Rodney, letting the robe fall open as he bent over to slide on his clothes.
Rodney watched for a moment, dry-mouthed as the movements underneath the flowing robe told him exactly what Sheppard was doing: pulling up briefs, hitching up his BDU's and zipping the fly. Sheppard shrugged out of the robe altogether and let it drop to the floor in a silken puddle, reaching down to grab his tee shirt. Rodney couldn't tear his eyes away, marveling at the play of muscle underneath John's skin as he pulled the shirt on over his head, imaging it once more covered in the black polymer.
"You still here?" John turned to face him with a frown, boots in hand as he fished socks out from within them.
"I was just thinking about the possible uses for the polymer," Rodney said truthfully. "You know, when you get to the actual negotiation part, I would see to it they include one of those beds. It seems to me we have more experimentation to do along those lines."
Rodney felt his mouth try to crook into a smile at John's stunned expression and he knew he was failing miserably at controlling the look of unholy glee he was feeling. "If nothing else, Colonel," Rodney added with a smirk, "I feel obligated to teach you the correct pronunciation of the word 'pol-uh-mer'."
Exit line, exit line, Rodney thought to himself as he tried not to slam out the door in a rush of nervous energy, but he couldn't help but glance back over his shoulder to see how Sheppard was reacting.
The slow, sexy smile developing on John's face was priceless.
~fin~
