inflated

...the lab...

" -- inflatable -- "

The Colonel's voice was rising. Not a good thing.

" -- mine -- "

Rodney's was still in the lower register of infuriated hiss. Zelenka hunched a little lower over his laptop and wished Rodney and the Colonel would fight somewhere besides the lab. He quite liked the Colonel, he really did, and a Rodney that was getting laid regularly was a Rodney everybody preferred, but the last time they had a disagreement in the lab, a piece of Ancient tech that looked like commemorative plate from Planet Tacky had glowed orange, whizzed around the lab and brained Simpson when Rodney ducked faster than her.

The Colonel had been horrified and apologetic, but Simpson was still combing her bangs over a small dent in her forehead.

" -- do I -- your things -- "

" -- accusing me -- don't give a damn about --

" -- who else -- access -- "

" -- petty do you think I am?" the Colonel shouted. They were both in the center of the lab now.

The whole lab went silent, even the equipment hunkering down and trying to be invisible. The thing that looked like golf ball stuck on trident even succeeded, making Juarez squeak.

Rodney spun around and glared at everyone and everything. "What!? What, what, what, you don't have anything to do but eavesdrop on a private conversation? The whole city has been cataloged, everything has been analyzed and we are in possession to the secret of the universe? Did I somehow miss that?"

Everyone looked away, pretending to go back to work.

Colonel Sheppard cocked his head to the side, said quietly, "You know, I'm not doing this. Come see me when you're sane," and walked out of the lab.

Rodney stared after him, even after the doors slid closed again, mouth hanging open. Many fingers tapped busy, busy gibberish into laptops, heads dutifully ducked. With a snap Zelenka heard and winced over, Rodney closed his mouth, stomped over to the white board and erased Opticon's last four days of work. No one, not even Opticon, raised any objections. Miko, however,slipped the dejected scientist a bag of precious peanuts.

Unfortunately, Rodney smelled them, confiscated them, and left Opticon not only depressed but hungry.

Zelenka slipped another lemon drop into his mouth and bent over his own work, happy there had been no Unidentified Flying Ancient Objects this time.

Rodney caught him humming and glared. He sniffed and then pointed at Zelenka.
"Lemon? Oh, that's mature."

Zelenka rolled the candy around between his cheek and his teeth and said, "I am the only one who has candy you do not take."

...the mess...

"What do you think they're fighting over?" Parrish asked, setting his tray down and seating himself opposite Lorne. He tipped his head toward the table in the corner where Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay usually holed up. Lorne had finally figured out why they liked that table. Both men hated anyone coming up behind them. They were also protective of their food, but all the old Atlantis hands were kind of squirrelly about things like that. The shy little Japanese scientist who worked for McKay had about scared the pee out of one of the new marines when he made the mistake of grabbing an apple ahead of her in the chow line. Beckett swore the fork marks would fade in time.

"I really don't want to know," Lorne said. He really, really didn't. Sheppard was a more than okay commanding officer, but get him around McKay and he went weird. Well, both of them did, though it was hard to tell with McKay, since he was a scientist. Or, no, basically because he was McKay.

They both watched as McKay leaned toward the Colonel, gesturing emphatically with his hands. Since his hands were holding a knife and fork, the Colonel quite naturally jerked back. McKay waved the fork even harder. A piece of carrot flew off and hit the floor.

"Uh-oh," Parrish murmured.

The Colonel's hand snaked out and caught McKay's, deforking him, snapping,"I did not -- "

"Well, who else has my -- "

"This is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous," Colonel Sheppard said. He sat back, slouching in his chair. Lorne briefly considered whether he'd ever actually seen the Colonel stand at attention and concluded he hadn't. A smile tipped up one side of Sheppard's mouth. He stroked his chin, looking mock thoughtful in a way guaranteed to up McKay's blood pressure. "Maybe you lost it. Or misplaced it. Stress can make the mind play tricks on you."

McKay doesn't need lemons to look sour. This time his eyes almost bugged out. "Lost -- misplaced -- Hah. You'd better hope my mind, my very valuable mind, is not collapsing under the pressure of being the sole person everyone relies on to save this benighted city. Do not even try to wiggle out of this, Colonel. You did it. You're the only one who could."

"Did not."

"You're lying," McKay accused.

Sheppard's expression froze over.

"No, in fact, I'm not," he said. He smirked but didn't look amused. Then he pushed away from the table, rose, and looked down at McKay. He added, "Why the hell is it so important anyway?"

McKay picked up his abandoned fork and stabbed it into the Salisbury Steak on his tray. "It just is."

"McKay."

"I'll tell you later."

Sheppard looked at him another beat, then nodded once. "Yes, you will." He picked up his tray -- leaving food on it uneaten, this was going to be bad, Lorne realized -- dumped it and stopped at Lorne and Parrish's table.

Very bad, Lorne realized as Sheppard smiled humorlessly at them both. "Starting in a week, everyone begins endurance training with Dex. Make up a roster, Major." He activated his radio. "Lieutenant Cadman, I want you in the armory. It's time for a surprise inventory. I want the report before we contact the SGC next." He nodded to Parrish. "Enjoy your lunch."

Endurance training with Ronon Dex.

Lorne shared a glance with Parrish. The botanist offered him a sympathetic wince.

Inventory. Poor Cadman.

The marines were doing runs around the entire perimeter of the city every morning as it was and inventory had just been done last week.

"Kavanagh's going to be working on the sewage system again," Parrish predicted in a lowered voice as McKay shot to his feet and abandoned his meal, too, stalking out of the mess hall the instant Colonel Sheppard strolled out of sight.

Lorne thought about that. Dex. Inventory. Sewage. He found himself grateful he wasn't part of the science team.

Whatever the hell they were fighting over, he hoped McKay and the Colonel got over it. Sheppard hadn't been this pissy since McKay blew up most of a solar system.

On the other hand, at least the toilets wouldn't be backing up again any time soon.

...the conference room...

" -- more lubricant."

Her military and science commanders were both at the conference table as Elizabeth arrived, Carson trailing behind her, still wittering about ordering extra medical supplies, condoms and 'better safe than sorry'. She didn't want to know. "Send me the requisition list, Carson, I'll sign off. Just don't tell me anymore."

"I think you've inflated the whole thing, McKay," John teased.

Rodney's face was set in a mulish frown.

"It's not a joke."

"Then explain why it's so important."

"I shouldn't have to."

"You sound exactly like my ex, Shelly."

"Let's see, was that the blonde who dumped you for being a jerk or the redhead who dumped you for being an incredible jerk?"

John turned away from Rodney and smiled at Elizabeth. Rodney frowned harder.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes at both of them. When they got like this, it was, at best, exasperating and, at worst, dangerous, since Atlantis responded to John's ATA gene sometimes whether he meant it to or not and Rodney ... Rodney was brilliant, imaginative and vindictive. Really vindictive. Kavanagh was still seeing Heightmeyer after the incident with the hair dryer.

"Gentlemen, is this something I should know about, something to do with this meeting, perhaps?"

They both looked guiltily at each other, as they so often did around her, shook their heads and chorused, "No."

"No? Good." She set her laptop on the table. "Maybe we could begin the briefing on our next mission to MX8-543."

"Of course," Rodney said. He darted another glare at John. "I'm both a professional and adult. I wouldn't dream of letting a personal quarrel get in the way of doing my job."

John choked hard enough that Carson asked, "Do you need me to get you some oxygen, Colonel?"

Rodney thumped John's back. "Stop it," he hissed.

"You stop it," John coughed back at him.

Elizabeth resigned herself to a long briefing. She still had the extra large bottle of extra strength Tylenol in her desk drawer, along with the box of chocolates, the DVD of Notorious, and the bottle of Kahlua. She figured she'd need a couple of hours with all of that after finishing the briefing. Thank heavens Radek had shown her how to opaque the windows and lock the door to her office.

But at this rate, if John and Rodney didn't get over whatever had them sniping at each other soon, she'd need to accept Stephen Caldwell's invitation to dinner on the Daedalus, just to get him to bring her more chocolates.

...the puddlejumper...

Teyla sprinted ahead and opened the jumper for the rest of the team. Her boots squished and she wondered if her life had included so much running and shouting and blisters before John Sheppard had shown up on Athos with his knowing eyes and clever smile and that nearly visible aura that said trouble in capitol letters. Then McKay brushed past her, muttering, "This is bad, this is bad, this is so bad, this is worse than Dr. Lee's attempts at translating Ancient power usage logs into Mandarin," and she forgot the question in the backwash of his nonstop diatribe. He was followed by Ronon, who was half-carrying the Colonel.

Rodney glared while Ronon helped the Colonel drop down onto the bench in the jumper's cargo area. "Careful with him, you behemoth!"

The Colonel grunted softly, trying to keep his wounded leg straight. His mouth twisted to the side, the only sign that he was in pain.

Teyla caught his cold hand in hers and squeezed it. McKay went straight to the emergency kit and tore it open. All four of them were soaked to the waist, smeared with mud and crushed grass from the side of the stream they'd been fording when the Colonel was attacked. She hoped it wasn't like the mud from MX5-694. Even after six months, Sgt. Stackhouse's team still had orange blotches everywhere that mud had touched their skin.

"Honestly, you better not be dying," Rodney said over the clatter of his search. "Not to mention that I'll probably end up with pneumonia because of this and it will all be your fault. You're not dying, are you? Because –who packed this thing, Santa's elves on crack? Where are the bandages, where are the drugs?"

"I'm fine, McKay," the Colonel drawled. He started to sit up from the bench, but Teyla pushed him back down.

"You!" Rodney snapped and pointed at the Colonel. "Stay down."

"Jeez, let me up."

"Down! Teyla, sit on him."

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I believe Dr. McKay is correct in this instance," Teyla told him. He slumped back looking sulky and a little betrayed. Then he smirked.

"Teyla?" She gave him a distrustful look. When his voice lilted like that, the Colonel was making trouble, not just drawing it to him with the power of his smile.

"Go ahead. Sit on me."

"She has far too much taste and intelligence, Colonel. Also, of course, I'm correct," McKay snapped. Then he continued tearing through the emergency medical kit. He stopped and his head snapped around and he glared at Teyla for a second. "What do you mean, 'in this instance'? Never mind. Ronon, you need to keep an eye on him. If his eyes go all glowy, stun him."

Ronon nodded, stepped back to the hatch of the jumper, out of the way, and folded his arms. He kept his gaze on Colonel Sheppard, as he often did.

"Thanks, Rodney, I'm really feeling the love, here," the Colonelsaid.

"What? I'm supposed to be all sappy and drippy and sympathetic and forget that that fish-snake, snake-fish, super-giant tapeworm thing that attached itself to your leg was trying to get inside you?" Dr. McKay's voice rose indignantly. "Please. That is entirely too much like the Goa'uld. If Ronon hadn't chopped it off you, you might be acting like a second-rate false god complete with creepy voice and special effects eyes right now!"

"Second-rate?"

McKay shrugged. "From the briefings the SGC is sending us, those Ori make the Goa'uld look like pikers."

"Colonel, it would be easiest if I cut away your BDUs above the wound."

He waved at her negligently. "Go ahead."

Teyla used the scissors McKay handed her and cut away the material at knee level. Ten minutes later McKay and Teyla had finished disinfecting and bandaging the ugly wound in the Colonel's calf muscle. No one mentioned that most of the damage had been done by Ronon's knife, as he cut through muscle deep enough to extricate the eyeless head of the two-foot long, pasty-colored parasite. The Colonel was pale, his face wet with perspiration, by the time McKay finished. The white gauze showed a red stain immediately. "That thing must have had something in its bite that slows coagulation," Rodney said. His hand remained resting on the Colonel's knee.

"No kidding?" the Colonel replied. "Also, ow, ow, ow. Never make another remark about Beckett's ham hands with a needle."

"Don't be such a baby." McKay patted the Colonel's knee. The Colonel's left eyebrow went up and then he smiled.

"Am I forgiven?"

"No," McKay said immediately. "It will still be a week before that happens. This is merely an injury related time out in my being pissed off at you."

Behind them, Ronon snorted softly. Teyla suppressed a smile. McKay and the Colonel were always entertaining, even when she hadn't a clue to the cultural references they tossed back and forth.

"You will be fine when we return to Atlantis," Teyla tried to reassure them both. McKay looked almost as pale as the Colonel and considerably more upset.

"Of course he will." "Of course I will," the Colonel agreed. His eyes caught with McKay's and seemed to speak to him silently, offering encouragement and reassurance.

Without doubt, the Colonel would be in Rodney's quarters within an hour of his release from the infirmary, Teyla thought. A shame that the Terrans' mores made it impossible for the two men to have an open relationship, but Teyla recognized the best thing was to remain silent on her part. Criticism would not be welcome. It wasn't like her people didn't have some ridiculous beliefs, too.

"Right," McKay said. He straightened up and rubbed his hands together. "We'd better get back to Atlantis. Ronon -- "

"I will keep watching him."

"Yes, yes, good."

"Try to fly in a straight line this time, Rodney."

McKay gave the Colonel another dirty look.

"Straight line, curve, what does it matter as long as I get us back to the stargate as fast as possible?"

"Fine, can we get there before I bleed out?"

The bandage was becoming alarmingly saturated with red.

"Going, going, going," McKay sing-songed over his shoulder as he dropped into the pilot's seat and powered up the jumper.

The Colonel leaned his head back against the wall of the jumper and closed his eyes. He looked tired and bruised, but happier than he'd been on the flight out, when McKay had been painfully silent, quite obviously still angry over something.

Teyla touched his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open.

"Perhaps if you apologized?" she suggested.

"Not for another two days," he told her.

Ronon made an approving noise at the back of his throat.

She shook her head. Men. It didn't matter what galaxy they came from, they were all from another planet as far as she could tell.

..in the corridor...

" -- I'll find it, okay?"

Sheppard's voice caught Ronon's attention as he sprinted along one of the city's catwalks, far above the open space below.

"You swear?"

"You have an inflated idea of what I can accomplish as military commander here," Sheppard said.

Ronon slowed to a walk, letting his muscles cool down, and listened to the conversation between the two men almost two floors below him, while pacing back and forth along the catwalk silently.

"I can't very well search every lab and all the personal quarters without some reason. Not to mention there's the rest of the city."

He began stretching, smiling to himself.

"It's just ... Jeannie gave it to me." McKay's voice quieted and Ronon wondered who Jeannie was.

"Yeah? Why didn't you say so?"

"Because why should I need to? It was a personal item in my personal quarters and why should I have to justify the fact that I want it back? Why should I have to explain why it's important? Why should it matter if it is or isn't?"

Ronon nodded to himself. McKay had a point.

"I know it's a silly picture. But ..."

"It's okay, Rodney. I get it. And you're right."

"So you'll -- "

"I'll search every lab and everyones' quarters and all of Atlantis and get your picture of you and the Dalek back."

Ronon cocked his head, wondering what a Dalek was. Both men were quiet long enough Ronon peered over the catwalk railing, thinking they might have left. They were both still there, locked together at the lips. He eyebrows rose and he watched. Apparently they both had great breath control. A lot of things about Sheppard and McKay suddenly made sense. He grinned at the thought of mentioning that to either of them.

He nodded to himself, pleased to have figured out one more oddity about the Terrans, and decided that it was time to visit the mess hall again. Since McKay was occupied, Ronon would have a chance at snagging some of the donuts. Maybe some meatloaf and spaghetti. But no Jello. He refused to eat anything that shivered. Then some of that green bean casserole they made with toga soup. And fries. Sheppard had introduced him to fries -- fries and ice cream -- really, Ronon mused, he should have realized McKay and Sheppard were a couple: Sheppard let McKay steal his fries..

Of course, after eating again, he was scheduled to give some of the Marines training in hand to hand. That was always fun. Much better than using the gym's punching bag. And Sheppard assured him the Daedalus would bring back a replacement on its next run. After he made sure all the Marines made it to the infirmary, he would wander into Sheppard's way and help him find McKay's Dalek, whatever that was.

Because McKay was team and no one messed with Ronon's team.

Also, McKay ate a lot more when he was upset and Ronon wasn't sure he could take the scientist down in a fight over fries.

...Rodney's quarters...

Rodney sprawled on his bed in a post-coital stupor, while John prowled around the room. Maybe not prowled. Limped. John had pulled on his BDUs after cleaning up and fetching Rodney a wash cloth. Beneath them, of course, one leg was still swathed in white bandages that contrasted with the skin next to them, stark against John's admittedly not very tanned flesh.

Rodney narrowed his eyes. John was studying Rodney's wall of pictures and the empty space where his framed picture of himself and the inflatable Dalek Jeannie had given him when he made a flying visit during their time back on Earth had hung. John had that look that always turned Rodney on, that intent; thinking fast and moving faster look.

He scooted up on his elbows, absently admiring the bare lines of John's back, sharp shoulder blades, the vulnerable nape of his neck, and the small of John's back. The BDUs had slipped low on his lips, reminding Rodney that John hadn't bothered with his boxers.

"What would you do if I called you John?" he asked.

John turned slowly. His eyebrow went up. "Answer?"

Rodney fished around the foot of the bed, found his boxers and pulled them on. "No, really, I don't think I've ever used your name in public."

"I use yours."

"Yes, I know, Colonel."

John gave him the guileless smile. The one that hid any number of wicked, wonderful thoughts, Rodney had discovered. The one that went with John's talent for giving truly mind-blowing head. It made Rodney's cock stir happily, even though he was too tired to do anything.

"Well," John said. "You could call me John and find out." He switched his attention back to the empty spot on the wall. "Explain to me again why you thought I'd taken the picture?"

"Because you are the only other person keyed to come into my room. I could hardly suspect myself."

"Really? I'm the only one?"

"Don't get so excited. It's not like there's a line of people who want in here. Or, for that matter, like it would do any good to try and lock you out, since the city would probably bypass the locks for you anyway. And it's only good sense to have someone able to get in, in case I collapse and need medical treatment." Rodney waved his hand loosely. "You never know."

"But no one else knows the code?"

"No one."

John's eyes narrowed. "What about Lt. Cadman?"

"Why would I give her my door code -- "

"No, could she have picked it while she was in your head?" John interrupted.

Rodney stared at him, his mouth dropping open. "You're right."

Then he realized what that meant.

"Oh, she's gone too far this time."

John grinned at him.

"Don't worry about, Rodney, I'm her commanding officer. Believe me, Lt. Cadman has only begun to learn what suffering means."

Rodney eyed him skeptically. "I don't know, you lack a certain viciousness those of us trained in the sciences have honed, John, maybe I should -- "

John's face lit in a dazzling smile. "You called me John!"

"Yes, because it's your name and we're sleeping together and -- "

John came across the room in a rush, tackling Rodney back onto the bed, fast and rough enough the coverlet burned against his skin as he skidded back over it. John ended up crouched over him, hands tight on Rodney's biceps, grinning. "Now, you see what happens?"

"Whoa, I don't want to explain a case of rug burn on my ass to Carson," Rodney protested without much heat as John kissed a linefrom the hollow of Rodney's throat down to his navel.

John lifted his head. "You'd have to be on the rug to get rug burn."

"Bed burn then."

John dipped his head again and blew warm, moist, maddening breath over Rodney's boxers and his awakening flesh. "Beard burn, maybe," he said lightly.

Rodney decided he was okay with that. And really, Cadman and his Dalek picture could wait. He had a warm, horny, happy John Sheppard in his bed.

It would take time to invent a suitable punishment for Cadman, anyway, though he knew it was going to involve the Marines' mascot, Blowup Betty the inflatable doll, the Pegasus version of cauliflower, and programming the city to play accordion music non-stop in her quarters. And that was just the beginning.

Yes, he decided as John went down on him, it could wait. He had more important things to think about.

...in bed...

Rodney snuffled in his sleep and John grinned drowsily at the blue shadowed ceiling, subtly nudging him over until Rodney was on the wet spot.

As he slipped into sleep himself, he found himself wondering: what had Lt. Cadman wanted with a photograph of Rodney hugging an inflatable Dalek?