Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rodney stepped into the shack and removed his clothes. It was cold and the smell of bird crap that cemented the straw roof filled the whole interior.

The rest of his team had each taken turns before the scientist. They'd assured him their new allies only required a physical exam to make sure they were healthy. For once there wasn't any sexual recruitment or Ancient artifact testing involved.

"Are you prepared?" The man sent to perform the exam asked from outside the hut.

"As much as I'll ever be," Rodney grumbled.

"I am Osto, a healer." The tall and muscular man who joined Rodney in the suddenly crowded hut looked more like a physical trainer, or an ad for a physical trainer, than a healer. He was hot. Not that Rodney was looking. And not that Carson wasn't hot—and caring, skilled with his hands, patient enough to put up with Rodney, and a million other remarkable traits—but Carson wouldn't blame Rodney for appreciating the human form, or the hotness of another healer.

Osto stepped right in front of Rodney, inches from his face. "Open your mouth."

Carson had used those words when Rodney was on his knees. It was never a harsh order, as if Rodney was a slave or mindless hole. Carson might describe himself as dominant, while Rodney didn't care much for labels, but he never made Rodney feel embarrassed or humiliated. The part Rodney cared about was knowing what Carson wanted, not having to guess or worry about doing things wrong. His partner had turned out to be surprisingly aware of what they both wanted. He knew how long to tease and when Rodney needed help calming down to appreciate what Carson, or even sometimes John, wanted.

"Good, straight teeth. Sing 'oooooh.'"

Rodney bit back the snide remark he wanted to make about singing and matched the sound and pitch, in case that mattered. He also realized his naked body had responded to his thoughts of Carson in a way not particularly appropriate for a physical exam. He took a deep breath, through his nose, to steady himself. The putrid smell of the furs Osto wore was enough to put him off touching any locals. While they seemed to bathe themselves well enough, he doubted they ever washed the furs they wore and sweated into daily. It was almost as bad as the bird crap roof, and enough to keep Rodney's slutty body mostly in check.

Osto had looked up Rodney's nose as he sniffed. Then he stared Rodney straight in the eyes before moving to check his ears and running fingers through his hair to check for who knew what. It was hardly a romantic gesture, but it didn't feel bad.

"Arms up."

Rodney lifted both arms and Osto felt along his muscles, pressed under his arms, and traced his pecs. He brushed a thumb over the mark Carson had made at the base of Rodney's neck when they bonded and refreshed since. "Your upper body is acceptable. What's this?"

"A mark from my lover." Rodney wasn't ashamed, and he wasn't going to make excuses. He also wasn't going to explain the word "partner" if Gate translation didn't make the meaning clear.

Osto smirked and ran his hands down to jiggle the extra fat that had accumulated around Rodney's belly. It was clear the healer disapproved. Rodney had been self-conscious about that with Jennifer, but Carson hadn't minded the softness. Of course, as the head of medicine on Atlantis, Carson was always encouraging Rodney to eat better and exercise more. But his touches and lovemaking never neglected any portion of the not-so-athletic scientist's body.

When Osto moved behind Rodney and spread his cheeks in a matter of fact way, all Rodney could hope was that there wouldn't be an internal exam and his activities of the night before weren't too obvious on the outside. Carson had teased him with the bead toy for a long time before pressing himself into Rodney deep and hard.

Rodney really needed to think about something else before Osto came around front. But the healer's hands squeezing his ass and then sliding down his thighs and calves didn't help the situation, Luckily, Osto didn't say a word as he lifted Rodney's cock a bit further out of the way than it already was before seeming to weigh his balls in the other hand.

The healer let go before saying, "Put on your clothes and come outside for the assessment."

The wording didn't thrill Rodney, but he'd learned to keep his mouth shut, at least sometimes, when trying to build alliances in Pegasus.

#

John thought the latest mission to win friends and trade for some kind of seafood was going well enough. The physical exams had been a bit handsy, but John was finding unwanted touch easier to handle since he'd bonded with Atlantis, and to some extent Rodney and Carson. He knew his bonds to them weren't complete, although he'd have preferred not to inexplicably know any such thing. On a more mundane level, he realized he'd been touch starved for a long time. Suddenly having access to safe daily touch, whether from Atlantis' touch machine or from Rodney and Carson, made the meaning behind every other touch slightly less concerning.

Now his team stood in the village square facing the local leaders, a couple whose names always seemed to be run together as Shiloen. About a dozen locals, a couple holding woven sacks full of squid-like creatures for trade, stood around watching as Osto joined them. The female leader asked, "Are you satisfied as to the fitness of our new allies?"

Osto place his hands on his hips, making himself look bigger than he had in the modest exam hut. "Three of them are a credit to their people." The crowd around them nodded. "But this man's lower body requires proof of fitness." His eyes fell on Rodney, of course. "I would recommend a run to collect a cone from the tree at the top of the hill." Osto raised an arm to indicate a hill at the edge of town with a lone coniferous tree at the top. It was probably only four miles up and back with an elevation gain of less than 1000 feet. John or Ronon could easily have chosen it for a morning jog.

The leaders both nodded as if this made perfect sense before selling someone seafood. John looked around the square noticing other nods of approval and also how fit most of the locals seemed. He hated to ask this of Rodney, but the one thing they all agreed with Woolsey on was that they needed more local allies and a diversity of food sources. He glanced to Teyla indicating that she should negotiate the finer points.

"We are new to your ways but wish to show respect." Teyla inclined her head and met both leaders' eyes. "Could you make clear if Dr. McKay must meet other requirements of ritual or timing beyond bringing back any cone from that tree to this square?"

Shiloen both nodded back at Teyla. "Our healer may propose a run, but all we require is that your Dr. McKay go alone and bring back one cone, from the lowest branch is fine. Before day's end should be reasonable."

#

"You okay with that?" John met Rodney's eyes and shrugged as if it was all perfectly reasonable.

In a way, it was good to know John saw him as fit and capable enough to make the hike on his own. The entire route was visible from the village square, so Rodney didn't doubt his team would be keeping their eyes on him. He tapped his water bottle, which was full.

"Here, take off your tac vest and take my water as well." John helped Rodney out of his vest, his matter of fact touch reassuring. There was a removable belt on the tac vest to which John attached both water bottles, a sidearm, a knife, and Rodney's life signs detector. He whispered close enough that probably no one would hear, if Rodney assumed no one else had the enhanced senses he'd developed recently, "Just jog out of town and hike the rest at a pace you can handle. You have hours of daylight left."

Rodney nodded and took off at a respectable jog. He only switched to walking when the trail sloped upward. He was a little out of breath but not too sore from the previous night. To his right there was a wide open view of the sea and Rodney appreciated the freshness of the ocean air after the stink of the village and the villager's furs. The path was dirt, but clearly traveled daily.

After twenty minutes, Rodney was halfway to the tree. The ground to his right had become a sea cliff and gray clouds were blowing in fast. His ass twinged a bit from what he and Carson had done the night before. If he admitted that at his post mission check up, his partner would probably declare they shouldn't have intercourse before missions. Rodney's team went on a lot of meaningless little missions lately, and the scientist knew he'd resent giving up sex in any way for that. He resolved not to tell Carson and hoped it wouldn't be obvious to the doctor's trained eye.

Breathing hard, Rodney thought about blue skies as those around him took on a darker gray.

Cold rain pelted him before he reached his goal.

When he arrived at the tree, the bark was slick and wet. Rodney's clothes were soaked. The spindly branches with pinecones were all too high to reach. In a childish moment, Rodney wished for the adventurer's standard ten-foot pole.

Then he took a long sip from one of his water bottles, screwed the cap back on, and tried throwing it at a pine cone. He understood the vectors and forces involved. The problem could be solved with a suitable application of physics.

He managed nine near misses before the water bottle rolled off the cliff into the crashing waves below.

Then he studied the polyester mesh belt holding the other water bottle and his supplies. Rodney remembered seeing a video once where a man braced a belt on one side of a tree trunk and his feet on the other as he climbed very high. In theory, that was all physics as well, but given his minimal success with the water bottle, Rodney wasn't sure he wanted to risk throwing himself off a cliff.

He couldn't believe if it was worth any of this to fetch a pinecone, even to appease another set of people with ridiculous trade ideas. He wondered if he had been in slightly better shape or a more "manly man" if the whole ordeal could have been avoided in the first place. All the years of being chosen last in sports or ridiculed for being too small (when really he was several years younger than his classmates) opened up a pit of yearning inside Rodney. While he would loudly protest that the power of his brain was greater than any one human body, he felt a little stupid standing helpless at the base of a pine tree.

Staring at the ground, he noticed a fallen pine cone. He thought it might be good enough, even if they'd specified the 'lowest branch" was fine, implying not picked up off the ground. The pinecone lying there was shiny with rain and not squished or rotten. Probably it had been blown down in the last few days.

That made Rodney ponder if snap storms were common here at this time of day. Perhaps the locals were laughing as he stood soaked to the skin, as much the victim of a prank as a test of his fitness.

He considered whether the healer—Oslo? Osto? Osko?—had really judged him too unfit or if he'd seen the signs of mild arousal during the exam and anal sex the night before and was punishing Rodney for that.

If he'd been better with a gun, he could have shot a pinecone down. The scientist wondered if that would impress or infuriate the locals, even as he dismissed the idea. At least he knew the limits of his shooting abilities.

Instead, he removed his belt. He unlaced the attached water bottle, gun, and knife. Then he threw one end over the lowest branch that held a pinecone.

The belt wasn't quite long enough for Rodney to hold both ends while standing on the ground with the center over the branch. But after a couple of tries and a rather coordinated jump to catch the second end and pull it down, he had caught the branch he wanted. It was pulled down at least thirty degrees just by Rodney holding onto both ends of the belt as he landed.

The pinecone was still out of reach, but Rodney was determined to either slide the belt outward or shake the branch until he could grab that cone. It was messy. Both pine needles and rain fell in his face every time he looked up. His hands grew numb, and a nerve in his shoulder twinged as he pinched it somehow.

He smelled like a pine scented air freshener in a taxi.

But Rodney was stubborn. When the belt hitched on a smaller branch sticking out to one side, Rodney yanked hard. The yank stripped a shower of needles but brought the belt up sharply against the pinecone. It still refused to fall.

Taking both ends of the belt in one hand and pulling down, Rodney jumped and grabbed with his other hand. The pinecone was rough and even sharp in places, but Rodney wasn't letting go. He twisted one way and then the other and yanked. Finally, the cone came free in his hand.

The branch pulled up. Rodney lost his grip on the belt.

He landed on his ass—already sore, ouch—but he had his prize in hand.

After reassembling his belt and its contents, the scientist wished he'd brought something to carry the prickly pinecone back. The best he could manage was tucking it between his arm and his chest where his uniform jacket mostly protected him.

His hand was red and raw from grabbing the cone, but the one that had been tugging on the wet belt wasn't much better. Wiping both on his pants, Rodney headed down the hill.

Three steps out from the tree, he realized how protected he'd been underneath. Wind was now blowing half the rain sideways or even upward from the cliff beside him. The dirt trail he'd walked up looked more like a small creek now.

When he glanced down to the village square for the first time since he'd started, he couldn't see anyone outside. Instead he saw smoke rising from a couple of chimney holes and imagined his team inside, warm and dry, not even watching him.

Rodney trudged down the stream of a path, letting his boots get soaked, holding the prickly cone tight against his ribs. He was starting to shiver and knew he should eat. But the rain was falling in buckets. A soaked power bar didn't sound appetizing even to Rodney, and anyway, he'd left them all back in the village with his tac vest.

Figuring his hypoglycemia would complement what he was sure must be the onset of hypothermia, Rodney began to jog down the path.

That's when the path disappeared from under him.

Rodney was falling

The rocky cliff hit his shoulder. Hit his head.

He lay stunned with rain falling in his face as a wave pulled him out to sea.

#

John hadn't wanted to go inside. It annoyed him how the locals laughed and joked about their unpredictable weather. Laughed when John asked if he could bring his teammate a raincoat.

He'd only been persuaded to go inside when Shiloen promised there was a window with an excellent view of the hill and the tree.

From there the leaders and their healer had watched and mostly laughed at Rodney's attempts to knock down a cone. John had thought the scientist did better than most people would if they didn't feel comfortable climbing the tree. It didn't look like an easy tree to climb, although John figured he could have managed. The rain certainly made the task harder, and John still wasn't sure if the locals had expected the storm or not.

When Rodney started jogging back on the slippery path and the ground literally slid away down the cliff, taking him with it, even the locals were alarmed.

Ronon was outside and running up the hill before John could speak or stop him.

John was on his feet and ready to do the same when he saw the stupid white tiger roaring on a dock in the opposite direction. There was no way John was admitting to himself that it was Rodney's tiger or that whatever it was even existed. But John changed direction to head for the dock as he shouted at Teyla to, "Get to the Gate. Call for medical and back up."

With his team thoroughly divided, John raced past dwellings and boats until he reached the end of a small wooden dock that probably couldn't even support the tiger that was definitely not standing there roaring. Nevertheless, he followed the tiger's line of site and saw a dark form bobbing in the water fifty feet out. John picked up a line meant for a boat and already secured at one end to the dock. He stripped off his tac vest and boots, tied the rope around his own chest, and dived into the water.

#

Rodney knew he'd hit his head, but he was pretty sure there shouldn't be icebergs in this ocean. Icebergs didn't pull people away from waves breaking on cliffs. Didn't lift them high and poke their ribs until they took a breath. Icebergs didn't keep them afloat until someone's warm arm latched across their chest.

That was John's arm. Even salt water couldn't hide the scent of John's sweat, his skin, his warmth against Rodney's back. Rodney was lying on top of John. Not the way he'd wanted to. But John was rescuing him. That made a lot more sense than the iceberg.

#

Waking up in the infirmary didn't worry Rodney the way it once had. Without opening his eyes, Rodney recognized the private room he'd come to think of as his own. That probably should have been worrying, seriously.

He recognized his three teammates by scent. They were all in the room with him, and John also smelled of the ocean on that awful planet with the pine tree. "Did I lose the cone?"

"We all saw you get it, buddy." John rested a hand on Rodney's shoulder as he said it. That was nice. But John's sleeve was still wet.

Opening his eyes, Rodney saw someone had wrapped a white infirmary blanket around John's shoulders. But his hair stuck up in crazier spikes than usual and he was shivering enough for Rodney to feel it through the touch. "You need to shower."

"Well, thanks," John spoke sarcastically with his long drawn out vowels. "You're not so fresh and clean yourself."

Teyla stepped forward and took Rodney's hand, "We all wished to see you awake and recovered."

Ronon grunted.

Carson walked in and immediately lifted Rodney's other hand by the wrist. With his pulse, blood pressure, and a hundred other statistics recorded by Ancient medical tech, Rodney was certain the doctor didn't need his wrist. Still, Rodney's body tingled at the touch and the reunion with his bond mate, even though Carson must have touched him while he was still unconscious. "Now that you've all seen him awake, I believe Woolsey is waiting for you in the regular meeting room."

John sighed and squeezed Rodney's shoulder again. "He better not send us back for calamari."

"I am certain our alliance will be honored. Shiloen were clearly distressed by McKay's fall and impressed by your successful rescue." Teyla moved to hold the door for the others.

Ronon grunted again. They all trooped out and shut the door behind them.

"How long before your shift ends and we can go back to your quarters?" While Rodney enjoyed the care of his favorite physician, he enjoyed it more when Carson cared for him as his partner.

Still firmly in medical mode, other than the hand still wrapped around Rodney's wrist, Carson consulted his scanner and shown a pen light in Rodney's eyes.

"I still think you do that just to be annoying," Rodney grumbled.

"My shift is already over. I'll sign you out for observation at my place." Carson sounded sad and smelled stressed.

"Anything in particular you'd like to observe?" Rodney wiggled a little and discovered sore muscles and bruises he didn't want to know about.

"Not while you're on pain meds. Let's see if you can keep down your dinner."

Rodney pretended to pout as he let Carson help him up from the bed and into his slippers.

#

They had just finished soup and grilled cheese for dinner when Rodney heard the knock and his senses automatically extended.

"It's John." Rodney let Carson think the door open, since they were at his place.

"Hey, I brought you something." John held up a black plastic wrapped bundle as if he needed an excuse to visit after being bond mates for a month. Granted he was trying to hide any shift in their relationship from everyone else on Atlantis.

Rodney was pretty sure at least Ronon and Teyla suspected something, but with the two of them, it could be the usual sex rumors or some superstition even wackier than their bonding. It was impossible to know, at least for Rodney. As John deposited the shrink-wrapped package in his lap, Rodney asked, "Is this a present? For me?"

"Yeah." John folded himself down into the other end of the couch. "I originally thought it might take until Christmas, but I guess it's here for Halloween."

Rodney found it impossible to know what John was thinking much of the time, even if they came from the same planet, even the same continent. He tore open his present. "Kigurumi!" He rubbed the pile of fur against his face. "It's so soft." Then he shook it out to full length. Once out of the shrink wrap, the outfit expanded to four times the original size. "It's a cat! You got me cat kigurumi! When did you order this? We only talked about it a few weeks ago. I knew the military got priority over science for supplies, but this is cat pajamas!"

John shrugged so hard his head seemed to sink. "I don't know. It came with a shipment through the Gate rather than waiting for the next Daedalus run. My guess is someone saw it was from a costume shop and rushed it for Halloween."

"I'm not wearing this for Halloween. None of my minions would ever take me seriously again. But I'll wear it now." Rodney started removing his socks even as he spoke. His kigurumi had tan and black stripes, a white belly, and a long full tail. He slid off his loose scrub shirt from the infirmary. Then his genius brain leapt forward a step. "And I need cream, whipped. On top of heated milk, with chocolate."

Carson, who'd cleared their dishes to the kitchen when John arrived and had just finished washing them smiled. He and John were the only people who ever looked that pleased in response to Rodney's demanding nature. "Of course, kitty. Would you like some too, John?"

"Sure, thanks. Do you need any help?" John was suddenly up off the couch, as if he was offended by Rodney stripping down to his briefs to try on his gift.

Rather than complain, Rodney luxuriated in the feel of soft fur against his skin. John had chosen a good kigurumi. It was as soft inside as outside. Rodney shifted his shoulders to feel the fur on his skin before remembering he'd fallen down a cliff that day. His shoulder wasn't the only part that hurt, but sex would have been asking too much of his body. It was a perfect night to have John and Carson close and to curl up in a new and extremely soft cat costume. As he got up to toss his used clothes in the hamper and gather his furry slippers, Rodney had what he hoped was a brilliant friend inspiration.

He went to Carson's closet and found the hoodie with fur inside that Rodney had been wearing when he and John first discussed cat kigurumi. He brought it to John, who was leaning on the kitchen counter, not really helping. "This is clean, if you want to wear it."

John's wide eyes and raised eyebrows suggested Rodney wasn't as brilliant as a friend as he was as a physicist. But John reached out and took the hoodie. His fingers slid under the hem to touch the fur inside. Then he looked at Rodney for a long moment. "Okay."

With that he turned away and went to hang his jacket and shirt on a chair. He kept his back to Rodney, but that didn't mean he wasn't gorgeous to watch. Something bubbled inside Rodney and he had to swallow down a thrill that was probably inappropriate at seeing John slide his bare skin into Rodney's hoodie.

When John came back, he stoked the fur on Rodney's arm. Rodney slid fingers inside to stroke John's hair at the edge of the furry hood. He felt a tug of affection across their still growing bond and wondered if it originated from John or from himself.

Then Carson said, "Should we choose a movie to enjoy with our chocolate?"

"Aristocats?" John said with a smirk.

"No," Rodney answered too fast.

"Lion King?" Carson suggested setting mugs for each of them on opposite ends of their coffee table. He settled right in the middle of the couch with his own hot chocolate, leaving John and Rodney to each take a side.

"Happy Feet?" Rodney counter-proposed.

"Why?" John asked with more worry than he'd ever show in public.

It was only then Rodney fully realized that John had dived into the cold alien sea to save him. His rescuer might not want a movie with swimming sea mammals, but Rodney couldn't stop his mouth. "Before I knew it was you rescuing me, I imagined it was an iceberg holding me, pushing me up for air."

John's eyes went wide again, but he didn't say a word, only nodded.

"Are you sure, John?" Carson asked. "We have a lot of choices. It doesn't have to be something animated tonight. I'll watch whatever the two of you can agree on."

"Happy Feet is fine."

#

As Carson set up the movie, Rodney asked, "How do you feel after drinking hot chocolate?"

John had no idea how to answer that. He looked over at Rodney who had whipped cream on his upper lip and his face framed by the furry hood with cat ears that was part of the outfit John had given him. John couldn't help but smile, even if all he came up with to say was, "Huh?"

"I mean, it's different than after coffee, right? I can feel it coat my mouth and throat. A single cup is filling and satisfying in a way nothing else I eat or drink really is. I know there's pseudo-science about people being responsive to theobromine or the small levels of caffeine, but I remember even as a kid, with chocolate that probably wasn't that good, it was soothing. I mean, now I associate being full with sex, and a whole other set of endorphins and sensations. But there's something about the taste and smell of chocolate that's filling, saturating, in a way I can't compare to anything else. You obviously more than like it, even I can see that. So as a scientist I wanted to know how it was the same or different for you."

John was speechless. The part about sex and being full he couldn't relate to at all. Nancy had once tried to stimulate his prostate with a toy. He still wasn't sure if she was trying to prove sex was better than he thought or test to see if he was gay, but the whole experience had been unpleasant. John had been fine with not thinking about it for all the years in between and tried to push it back into the dark crevices of his mind now.

"Okay." Carson set down his empty mug, and John saw Rodney's was empty too. "Maybe we should try to let John enjoy his hot chocolate. This isn't an experiment. If he wants to share his personal observations, he can do that on his own terms." Telegraphing his move in slow motion, Carson reached a hand out to John's knee. He rubbed gently, and John felt muscles all over his body relax in response.

"It's not like I asked about sex or kink or anything." Rodney looked at John with wide eyes and a tightly drawn mouth.

"I know," Carson answered Rodney while still petting John. "But there are times when you feel trapped by questions about your own emotions or reactions in social situations. While I very much appreciated what you shared about your associations and personal experiences with hot chocolate, and I assure you, I truly enjoyed hearing it, we have to allow John his own reactions. And let's not put him on the spot to share unless he volunteers or it matters to something we're doing or want to do together. Should I start the movie?"

The look on Rodney's face was so sad and confused that John had to say something. "I'm fine. I'd just rather watch a movie now and finish my hot chocolate, okay?"

Rodney nodded. Carson started the movie. One of them thought the lights lower.

Almost immediately, Rodney curled up in a ball with his head on Carson's thigh. Carson petted the furry hood, scratching behind the fake cat ears and Rodney's real ears in a way that made the fur inside shift across Rodney's ears and cheek. John found it soothing just to watch, although Carson's hand on John's knee moved at a similar soothing pace.

It was a relief to John that he could sip the rest of his chocolate in peace. There was something soothing to the feel in his mouth and the way it filled his stomach, even if he couldn't have put that into words for Rodney or anyone else.

By the time the little penguin in the movie started tap dancing, John had finished drinking and his chocolate was well settled in his stomach. He wanted to curl up the way Rodney was and see if Carson would pet his furry hood the way he petted Rodney's. After a few minutes of reluctance, John let himself lie down.

Carson seemed to understand immediately. The way the doctor's coordinated hands massaged his scalp and made the soft fur caress his ear and cheek was everything John had hoped it would be. His eyes closed to slits as he watched the penguins on the screen the way he imagined cats would watch birds on a windowsill. The motion and music were mesmerizing. His body was warm and lazy. The affection and acceptance flowing into him from Carson, Rodney, and even Atlantis filled his mind and whatever other spaces he had. John felt full and content as his mind drifted.

#

Sheppard startled awake, or back into awareness, when Woolsey's voice came through his radio on a priority channel. He was already standing and stripping off Rodney's hoodie as he registered Woolsey's words.

"…Need both Sheppard and McKay at lowest level of main tower. Beckett, we need McKay cleared for duty or whatever you need to do. The waste water discharge pipe is jammed. I'm not sure why Zelenka can't fix it, because half of what he's shouting is in Czech, or maybe he doesn't want it translated because Gate translation isn't helping. But he's definitely calling for Sheppard and McKay."

By the time Woolsey finished giving way too much information for a priority summons, John was fully dressed in his own clothing.

Rodney just stomped out of Carson's quarters wearing his cat kigurumi with his life signs detector in one hand and his tablet and radio in the other. John and Carson raced after him.

#

The sound of Zelenka's creative Czech cursing was enough to guide Rodney from the moment the transporter opened on the lowest level. He heard every word like a crash of symbols in his skull and could barely open his eyes with how much the interior light stung. Add in the putrid mildew smell that clung to even Ancient waste water processors, and Rodney was ready to spew his hot chocolate. Maybe he did have a concussion.

He stomped into the middle of the commotion and yelled, "Anyone who doesn't shut up right now will have city sewage flooding their quarters by sunrise. I promise."

The water processing area and surrounding corridors were suddenly silent. He stomped over to stand beside Zelenka at the main console for the waste water system.

Inside the main sewage outlet to his left, Rodney heard a metallic hum with only a small amount of noise from water spurting past. He shoved his radio under his hood and behind his ear, and paged through readings on his tablet while still holding his life signs detector in his left hand.

"Zelenka." Rodney started with the official scientist on call for the night and demanded, "In English, one sentence. Why hasn't the emergency shut off for this pipe activated?"

"I don't know," Zelenka answered through clenched teeth.

"At least you got the language and length right." Rodney took a deep breath. He had to admit, at least to himself, that the data on his tablet made no sense. Everything that should have triggered an emergency shut off had been done, but the shut off valve indicated an emergence override of the emergency shut off. "Can anyone here offer a one sentence answer in English?"

A Marine volunteered, "Some scientist sent a survey drone up the wrong pipe."

"Wrong question, don't try again." Rodney had already deduced something metallic with a motor was jamming most of the pipe. Normally, an emergency shut off would stop more water from pushing down the pipe. In this case, the limited water flow around the survey drone would have quickly emptied the remaining water from that section of pipe. Then someone could either be sent in to dislodge the drone or the pipe could be cut open if absolutely necessary. As people started muttering and Rodney wondered what exactly could trigger an emergency override to keep water filling the space above the drone, he heard a slap not like water but like something swimming inside the pipe.

"Shut up again," Rodney barely had to raise his voice to be obeyed as he stalked toward the pipe with his life signs detector raised. There were five smaller than human life signs trying to swim up the waste pipe. Clearly, they couldn't fit through the holes in the safety screen but they must be too large or too stupid to swim out where water was still escaping past the drone.

"I need someone from marine biology or one of those squishy subjects to identify five life signs inside this pipe and someone who knows about this drone to see if we can back it out of there without busting the pipe."

"Life signs?" a high-pitched voice asked.

"Yes, presumably something from the ocean outside, small enough to swim in this pipe but not through the screen located here." He waved toward the relevant portion of pipe. "So more than five centimeters in at least two dimensions but smaller than a survey drone.

"Do you have an image?" The voice turned out to belong to a small woman in a science uniform with a New Zealand flag on her shoulder.

"It's a life signs detector not an ultrasound," Rodney protested.

By that point Carson was holding up a medical scanner from a first aid kit he'd grabbed. He showed the scientist who'd asked for an image and she said, "I'm a marine biologist as well as a marine engineer. Those are electric rays. They've confused our drones before, but never when they were returning to the city. The rays sometimes swim into our pipes like this, but they usually turn around at the dead end. This drone must have been headed for the drone access under the east pier but latched onto the rays' electrical signature instead and followed them up here."

"Great, you're less of a waste of space than most." Rodney tapped something into his tablet. "Find a way to get them out. Can we back up this drone?"

"Emergency shut down and tethering in progress," Zelenka answered from the far side of the pipe.

"The electric rays will swim out once the drone moves," the marine biologist added.

The hum from the drone cut out and there was a terrible clank and scraping sound as the drone was hauled out.

Rodney tapped his foot impatiently as Carson and the marine biologist watched rays swim toward safety. Zelenka was already instructing minions to safety test and overhaul the waste pipe now that it was unclogged.

John was standing with Teyla, Ronon, and Woolsey toward the back of the room. They'd all been useless, but at least they'd stayed out of the scientists' way.

As Rodney remembered what he was wearing and looked down to see if his slippers or the fur at the bottom of his cat kigurumi had been fouled he heard one of the pipe minions say, "Cat worried about getting his feet wet or looking for a fish to eat?"

"Off duty and preparing for Halloween," Rodney snapped automatically. "Don't act more stupid than you've demonstrated already. Can't you even take care of a simple clogged pipe?"

By that point Carson caught up and took his arm. "You're still under medical observation. Let's go." The scowl Carson gave the minion who'd been teasing Rodney made it worth being escorted away in his cat costume.

#

It took John and Teyla most of an hour to convince Woolsey he didn't need an in person report from McKay after the pipe incident. Rodney was still officially off duty on medical grounds. Carson hadn't needed to change that status because he'd accompanied Rodney to look into the incident.

Zelenka was taking out his frustration at not solving the problem himself by assigning fiddly or unpleasant jobs to any science staff, and occasionally military support, who crossed his path. When Woolsey tried to question him, the scientist spat out, "Busy. Will file paperwork. Later."

Even John had to fill out (electronic) paperwork on the situation, because he'd been present and Woolsey somehow considered the survey drone going up the wrong pipe to be a military security issue.

"I'm not sure it's the right time to open new residences if we're having trouble with basic utilities like sewage," Woolsey complained.

"I'm sure the geeks will make it so this never happens again," John said.

"As I understand it," Teyla offered, "the southeast pier has its own water and sewage systems. We already have several families and others preparing to move in."

"Does it even make sense to have more families on Atlantis?" Woolsey asked.

John had heard all of Woolsey's opinions on the subject—and everyone else's counterarguments—multiple times. He'd considered the matter resolved. "With more people staying long term, we're seeing more marriages, and you heard Carson's report on the projected numbers of children."

Luckily, Teyla knew how to derail the impending argument before it fully restarted. "As one who is married and has a child, let me say this is not the time to discuss such concerns. The pipe, drone, and sea creatures are all safe. Surely we humans would all benefit from a good night's sleep."

As Woolsey took his leave, Teyla turned to John. "I trust Rodney is doing well?"

"He seemed fine before this."

Watching John too closely she asked, "Your Halloween ritual does not take place until next week, correct?"

John was pretty sure Teyla called it a ritual just to goad him, but he was too tired to play along. "He probably wanted to try his costume on or fix something. Who knows why McKay does anything?"

Ronon grunted, and John didn't think any of them were fooling each other.

"Look, I'm about to fall asleep on my feet," John motioned back toward the transporter.

"Of course." Teyla smiled serenely. "You are the one who rescued him today after all."

#

John meant to go back to his own room and not Carson's, but he kept imagining Rodney disappearing down a cliff. There was no way he'd be able to sleep, or even rest, away from Rodney.

When he arrived, Rodney was curled up in his cat kigurumi with his head on Carson's lap watching Happy Feet just like before, only now they were watching on Carson's bed. And Carson was in blue flannel pajamas.

They'd left John's side of the bed open. He shucked his jacket and shirt and picked up Rodney's furry hoodie from the couch where he'd left it. He put it on and then went to curl up with his head on Carson's other thigh. "You okay, Rodney?"

"The hurts I'd tuned out before won't let me ignore them now."

"I gave him ibuprofen. It will kick in soon." Carson dropped his hand to rub John's neck, through the furry fabric, and John was sure Rodney was receiving the same treatment on Carson's other side.

"Could have given me the good stuff," Rodney grumbled.

"Not if you want to be cleared for work in the morning." Rodney rumbled in a way that sounded surprisingly like a disgruntled cat who was too lazy to actually growl.

It was a reassuringly Rodney sound. John closed his eyes and relaxed.

#

The muddy slide down the cliff became a series of crashes. The final crash plunged him underwater. Rodney was tossed and turned until he didn't know which way was up.

Something grabbed him. Not an iceberg. Not a person.

A muscular, slippery tentacle wrapped around Rodney's waist. Another slid across his cheek and up along his throat.

He opened his mouth to scream, even knowing he'd drown, but something wide and fleshy pushed inside his throat. It pushed air into his lungs until Rodney remembered how to breathe. As he swallowed around the smooth, cylindrical protuberance his cheeks sucked in. It felt good to work his lips and tongue around the rapidly warming flesh, to be able to breathe even as the oral stimulation brought warmth to the rest of his semi-floating, semi-constrained body.

The limb that wrapped around his chest centered suction cups on each of his nipples. Finally, Rodney understood he'd been rescued by something with tentacles. An alien creature was exploring his body, thrusting gently in his mouth, sucking hard on his nipples. Another tentacle glided up his inner thigh and pressed between his ass cheeks just at the tentacle around his waist dug its tip under his waistband from the front.

Rodney couldn't stop himself from pressing forward into the fleshy tentacle cupping him as something finger-sized teased his hole in back.

#

"Rodney?"

The tentacle creature sounded like John, and Rodney froze even as he felt himself pressing forward. There was a layer of soft fur. Rodney was still in his cat kigurumi. But his very real morning erection was pressed up against John's nicely muscular ass, not pressing into his crack at least, but otherwise pretty overtly sexual. "I was dreaming—"

"You don't need to explain. It even happens to me sometimes," John said. Before the questions Rodney wanted to ask could fully form in his head, John slid out from beneath the covers. "I'll grab the first shower."

As the bathroom door shut, Rodney let out a groan.

"That was awkward," Carson said as he slid up behind Rodney, warm against his back. "We can talk it through with him later. How are you feeling?"

"Horny."

"Once you're fully awake, you're going to feel a lot more sore than horny." Carson rubbed his hand in what were meant to be soothing circles around Rodney's stomach, but they were anything but soothing.

"Please, help me get off. This erection isn't going away anytime soon any other way." It wasn't the sort of desperate Rodney liked to be, but there was no denying it. "I was having this dream where a tentacle creature was having me three different ways."

Carson slid his hand between the buttons on the front of the cat kigurumi to find Rodney hard and leaking. "You really are close, aren't you?" Carson's palm slid up and down, and Rodney jerked into it but felt all the places that made his body hurt. "Stay still, love. Tell me about your dream and let me do what you need." Carson bent over Rodney and undid a couple more buttons as Rodney began to tell about his dream.

"There was a tentacle in my mouth, giving air even as I swallowed and sucked and tongued at it." Rodney let his own tongue stroke along the top of his mouth a couple times as Carson unzipped the back of Rodney's pajamas and traced a finger lightly along his crack. "Yes, there was a thin tentacle just teasing at my hole as the wider one pressed in front. But then I woke. Carson, please!"

That was more like his usual begging. Rodney was right at that edge again, even with nothing inside him. Carson bent down and sucked the crown of Rodney's cock wet and fast a couple dozen times without pause.

Rodney came hard, but Carson's hand on his ass kept him from thrusting as Carson sucked him deep, dragging the rest of the orgasm out while Rodney could barely move.

"Oh god, that was…" Rodney could barely think. He felt Carson zip him up in back, dry him off and button him up in front.

"Go ahead and sleep more if you can," Carson whispered.

Rodney didn't need to be told anything more.

#

John wasn't used to taking long showers, even on Atlantis where water of any temperature was basically unlimited and always available. But he wanted to give Rodney time to deal with his—in whatever way he needed to deal with it.

There was no doubt in John's mind that Carson would want them all to discuss it eventually. If nothing else, they should decide if John hiding in the shower was a workable solution and set up a signal for when it was safe to come out.

Atlantis pulsed the water against John's back, and he wondered if that was a signal. If so, he wondered if it meant he should stay in the shower or it was safe to leave. He'd already washed all his skin and hair with the products he suspected belonged to Carson. They smelled like herbs and came in more sedate containers than the sensitive skin and extra body hair treatments he was sure belonged to Rodney.

Leaning both hands against the wall, John tried to imagine only turning off the water when everyone was calm in the bedroom or out of bed. The shower turned off, but that could mean the only part Atlantis understood had been about turning the water off.

Taking a clean towel from under the sink, John dried off thoroughly. Ancient tech did an admirable job of removing water vapor after a shower so a person could get fully dry. That let John fix his hair and dress in his clothes from the day before. He'd had the presence of mind to grab them when he beat a hasty retreat from the bed.

Hearing nothing on the other side of the bedroom door and needing nothing but his shoes to make a clean get away, John eased out of the bathroom.

Illuminated by the light of a single tablet, he saw Carson sitting against the headboard of the bed reading, fully clothed in his flannel pajamas from the night before. Rodney's head, half covered by his cat kigurumi hood, rested on a pillow, eyes closed.

Carson placed his hands together and leaned the side of his head against them, miming that Rodney was asleep again. He smiled fondly.

John didn't know if it had taken a morning quickie or some more calming form of touch for Carson to see the horny scientist back to sleep. And John didn't want to know. He silently slipped on his shoes and gave Carson a quick smile and a wave. Then he slipped out the door into the quiet of an early morning hallway. He'd even have time to change before meeting Ronon for a jog.

#

When he reached the front of the lunch line, Rodney asked for the latest variation on goulash and a meat roll. The Marine serving the hot foods that day mumbled, "Not kibble and a bowl of milk?"

"What did you say?" Rodney growled.

"Nothing, good kitty." The Marine actually smirked at Rodney as he passed him his food. Insults were one thing, but nobody except John got away with smirking at him. The name on the man's uniform was Moore and insignia showed he was a private first class.

Fists clenched, voice naturally going cold, Rodney said, "Private Moore, you may be new here. Insulting the geeks may have made you popular elsewhere. But before you insult me or my minions again consider that scientists have saved Atlantis five times as often as the military. Also, we control your water, your electricity, and all the doors and windows."

Rodney stormed across the room to sit across from Zelenka at a table full of science staff. "Have you had trouble with Private Moore?"

"Who?" Zelenka asked.

"The Marine serving goulash."

"Not that I noticed." Zelenka looked half asleep and like he wouldn't notice much.

"First coffee of the day?"

Zelenka nodded and wiped a hand across his face. "Waste pipe only finished five hours ago. Kusanagi is programming exclusion zone at entrance to all pipes to limit drones to intended access points."

"And the five electric rays?"

"You care? Do you still have concussion?" Zelenka tilted his head and looked slightly more awake as he stared at Rodney.

"Atlantis had an automatic override to protect them. They're suddenly relevant to my work."

"You think they're cool. Admit it."

"Drink your coffee. Your mind has degraded to sounding like Sheppard."

"Lots of rumors about you and him, too." Zelenka tilted his head side to side.

"Always have been." Rodney dug into his goulash. It was his favorite variation so far, made with plenty of garlic, not too much paprika, and some local sheep-like animal that didn't taste too gamey.

"More now with repeal of stupid US 'don't ask don't tell.' Always sounded like some kid bully threatening littler kids. Gives whole new meaning to 'big brother government.'"

"I'd say you need sleep more than coffee, but you'd never listen."

"Ano. I'd be certain you were replaced by pod person then. Cares about animals, believes in sleep, wears cat pajamas, smiles too often…"

Rodney stole some crackers off Zelenka's tray. "Fine, start the rumor I'm a pod person. It makes as much sense as any of the rest. At least we have scans to disprove it."

#

"Sheppard to training gym two, immediately." It was the second time Woolsey had called him on the priority channel in less than 24 hours, and John was dubious before he arrived.

On the scene he found Ronon, sweaty and wearing his typical gym attire of leather pants and a shirt that showed every muscle, covered or not. One of John's new Marines, Private Alonzo, had blood spattered across his military issue workout shirt and shorts. Another Marine in workout clothes, who John belatedly identified as the new medic, Juarez, already had a first aid kit out and was wrapping Alonzo's bleeding hand.

For some reason, Woolsey was standing just inside the doorway, dressed in his gray uniform as usual.

"What seems to be the problem?" John asked the room at large.

Woolsey answered fastest with, "Your teammate has knives in his hair."

John nodded, waiting for more.

"He cut this young man's hand." Woolsey pointed at Private Alonzo.

When no one volunteered more, John asked Ronon, "Did you pull a knife on Alonzo?"

"No," was all Ronon said. Taciturn at the best of times, the Satedan seemed to pride himself on saying even less in front of Woolsey, even if it meant concealing his side of the story.

"Private Alonzo, report." John slid naturally into full on military commander mode. Both Alonzo and Juarez scrambled to their feet and stood at attention.

Alonzo spilled out, "Ronon walked in and told me he needed a sparring partner, sir. He fought dirty. My only shot was to grab his hair. A knife hidden in his dreadlocks cut my hand. That's all, sir."

"Did you know Ronon hid knives there?"

"No, sir."

"How long have you been on Atlantis?"

"Six weeks, sir."

"Did you learn something?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what would that be?" John had trained himself not to roll his eyes or tap his foot in moments like these, but it still took an effort to resist.

"Ronon hides knives in his hair, sir."

"Anything else?"

"Does he hide something else there?" Alonzo asked, confused in a way that suggested he wouldn't last on Atlantis for long.

"Anything that might help you with future fights in Pegasus, Private."

"Sorry, sir. I guess others here might hide knives in their hair, sir?"

John suppressed a sigh. "Pegasus is full of things you won't expect. Many of them can kill you. Pegasus natives are survivors. If you think you know more than them, think there's a vulnerability you can latch onto, as likely as not, you're wrong. Learn fast." Then he turned to Juarez. "Does he need to visit the infirmary?"

"Yes, sir."

"Both of you go, dismissed."

Once they were gone John turned to Woolsey. "Was there something else you wanted?"

"Your teammate has knives in his hair." He flapped a hand at Ronon.

"So you said."

"You find that acceptable?"

"Given the number of times we've had to fight unexpected threats inside Atlantis, I suspect half of the civilians carry concealed knives. Any military who don't are unlikely to last here. I could ask Ronon to show you some basic self-defense and ways to conceal weapons if you'd like."

Woolsey face began to turn red. "I find this highly irregular and will be looking into regulations for concealed weapons and use of the gym."

"Understood. Is that all?"

"For now." Woolsey hurried out the door, leaving John and Ronon alone in the gym.

"Care to tell me how Alonzo pissed you off?"

"Nope."

"Still want a sparring partner?"

"Sure. But don't make me train Woolsey."

#

After a lifetime of experience, Rodney knew when people were laughing behind his back. He'd learned to act like he didn't care, but it was impossible not to notice. Carson said he wore his tension in his neck and shoulder. Today had been bad enough that it spread to every muscle in Rodney's body. Falling off a cliff the day before hadn't helped either.

As he worked through a pile of useless paper reports on his desk, Rodney found the cartoon that had obviously been folded and crumpled and handed from person to person. He didn't know if someone left it to make him feel bad, or if someone who felt sorry for him had decided this was the right way to tell him. Either way, Rodney hid the hurt at being publicly ridiculed yet again. At least this one wasn't about his cat costume, and it was a fairly well drawn likeness of him as a robot.

In the cartoon, robot Rodney was holding a long pinecone in front of his smooth metal crotch. The caption read, "Replacement part or new install?"

Rodney folded the paper small enough to put it in his back pocket.

#

Lorne shut the door behind him as he entered John's office. That never meant anything good. "Sir, permission to speak freely."

"Seriously, Lorne? You haven't pulled that crap on me in years. Sit down."

Lorne sat in the visitor chair on the far side of John's desk. John leaned forward on his elbows to close some of the distance and hopefully look more approachable.

"Sir, I don't know how things are sorting out with 'don't ask don't tell' on Earth, but I don't believe I have the best background or training to be in charge of handling such issues on Atlantis."

"What issues have there been?" John asked. Until that moment, he'd thought the transition on Atlantis had gone better than expected.

"No one, not a single person, has wanted to file a complaint officially. They all make me promise I won't tell and then they unload a lifetime of homophobia or hiding. Or the opposite."

"The opposite?"

"They proposition me. I decline and explain fraternization rules still apply, but honestly, it makes me uncomfortable even knowing in some cases."

"I'm sorry." John meant it. That was exactly why he'd dumped the job on his XO. "For what it's worth, I'm sure I'd be even worse at handling those situations."

Lorne nodded but didn't say anything.

"So, if we both agree on that, what did you want me to do?"

"Two things. First, I'm sending you a proposed policy announcement." Lorne poked his tablet to life and sent something he'd clearly had ready and waiting.

John opened it on his own tablet and read through two short paragraphs that basically said his XO would still be available to handle actual complaints, but other discussions involving implications of the 'don't ask don't tell' repeal should be taken to Dr. Gosset.

"The psychologist?" John asked.

"He's also a Marine who served in Afghanistan. A lot of the military on Atlantis recommend him."

"Did you ask him about this?"

"Yes, he's the one I went to when I didn't know how to deal with hearing everyone's stories, and he pointed out, that's what he's paid and trained for." The way Lorne emphasized the last few words and the context of what he was saying suddenly hit John.

His XO had gone to therapy to deal with the burden of rolling out the 'don't ask don't tell' repeal. John hadn't been brave enough to take that task on himself, and he never would have thought to ask Dr. Gosset for help.

"Thanks, Lorne. I'm sorry you had to go through all that. But if you think this is the best way to proceed, I will take your word on it and announce these changes right away."

"Thank you. There's a second issue." Lorne's jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might snap.

"That sounds ominous." John tried to reduce the tension, but failed.

"You must know a lot of people think you're gay or bisexual and in the closet. Some think you're so far in the closet you don't know it yourself. Either way, a lot of them think you should lead by example, either by opening up or dealing with your own issues. I'm not asking you to tell me anything personal. But it was hard to miss how tense you were the month or two before the repeal and how much you've relaxed since. And you pretty much told me you weren't willing to handle this and ordered me to do it. Even if you just want help dealing with it as commander, Dr. Gosset is a really good guy."

"I think that's the longest speech you've ever given me outside of debriefing." John knew his tone was off. He wasn't playing the role of commander or friend right now, and he had no idea what to say. But Lorne was a better XO than he could ever have hoped for, and John owed him something. "I get that I handled this badly, and it wasn't fair to you. I don't think there is actually anything I could do on a personal level that would help, and most of what people are seeing around the timing of the repeal is coincidental with other events. The best I can tell you is I will think about what you've said and try to learn from it for the future."

Lorne sat up straight and met John's eyes. "For the record, sir, whatever events you've been dealing with personally, they wouldn't cost you my support or that of most of us here—not just military—those who belong on Atlantis. There's no other post or CO we would rather have."

"Good, 'cause I'm keeping you as XO as long as I can." John knew it wasn't the perfect reply, but he wasn't perfect. Lorne knew and accepted that.

#

"Dr. McKay, glad you could make it." Woolsey motioned to a chair in the sitting area of his office.

"Did I have a choice?"

Woolsey laughed as if it was a joke. "Coffee?"

"Always." Rodney had better coffee hidden away in his lab, but Woolsey's wasn't bad.

When he brought the coffee and sat on the other side of the table, at about a 120 degree angle so they didn't quite have to look at each other, Woolsey said, "I've been hearing rumors."

"There are always rumors. I don't have time for them personally, what with running herd on scientists who might blow us up or accidentally destroy an Ancient sewage systems in one night."

"There are rumors about you and Sheppard."

"I'm pretty sure there were rumors about me and Sheppard before he even became CO, even while I was involved with Jennifer. There were rumors about Sheppard and Weir as long as she was here, too. There are probably rumors about you and Sheppard, but as I said, I don't have time to listen to them."

"That's not a denial."

"Excuse me? I think I had a sexual harassment training that said we couldn't ask people about stuff like this. You know, if I report this, they'll probably send you to that training. Do you need it?"

"While I wouldn't have had concerns about any relationship between you and Dr. Keller, there can be issues of impropriety when members of the command staff or members of the same Gate team become involved." Nothing in his tone indicated Woolsey was joking, or that he recognized the transparency of his excuse since Keller, as head of medicine, had been part of the command staff at the time.

Rodney knew it was inappropriate, but he started to laugh. It wasn't little laughter either. It was his big, honking, honest laughter. "You truly have no idea what is going on around here, do you? So far today I've dealt with incessant teasing about my Halloween costume and drawings implying I'm a robot while impugning my manhood. I've checked thousands of lines of code covering drone security measures, done the required intake testing on four recently discovered Ancient devices, assigned teams to relocate and test a reproductive system repair kit and a therapy pod from an Ancient rehab center, and read reports from three different engineering divisions regarding final assessments for the new housing on the southeast pier. But no, I'm not busy. I have plenty of time to do your job as well as mine. First, check the SGC regulations and the Atlantis charter. Someone realized long ago that with the limited number of people we shuffle between Gate teams, it wasn't practical to place anti-fraternization requirements on those. As for command staff, I am well aware of who I am and am not allowed to have sex with and—genius here—I've never crossed that line, not even once. Finally, not that it is any of your business, but since you clearly won't let me get on with my job unless we over-simplify yours, I have never and will never have sex with Sheppard. If you waste my time with matters like this again, I will file a complaint. Now I'm going back to work and taking my coffee with me."

#

Rodney recognized Carson's step before he entered the lab. Oddly enough, the scientist's enhanced hearing hadn't noticed everyone else leaving the now otherwise empty lab. Even enhanced hearing could be selective.

The two of them were alone in the large empty room. Rodney saved his work out of habit.

"Have you eaten dinner?" Carson asked.

"I don't suppose you want to bring me dinner here?"

Carson stepped closer until Rodney could feel his partner's body heat radiating through both their clothes and smell the last cup of strong black tea on his breath. "As a compromise, I could bring something back to my room if you promise to finish up and meet me there in the next half hour. They won't have hot food this late anyway."

Rodney glanced at the clock on his tablet and didn't know how it had gotten so late. "Okay."

"I brought something to help you remember, but only if you want." He held out a vibrator plug and Rodney's favorite textured strap.

"I always want that."

"You fell off a cliff yesterday."

"And that didn't make the top ten annoyances in my day."

"Oh." Carson reached out a hand to carefully rub Rodney's less bruised shoulder. "We could rest and listen to music instead."

Taking the vibrator and strap from Carson's hand, Rodney said, "I can rest and listen to music with this."

#

By the time he'd wolfed down the sandwich, salad, and pudding Carson brought him, Rodney was feeling much more relaxed. Scottish harp music played in the background. The plug vibrating in his ass not only triggered endorphins but seemed to work like a vibrating chair to relax sore muscles. Carson playing footsies with him under the table didn't hurt either.

"Let me give you a foot rub," Carson said.

"I could do that for you. I feel surprisingly good already." Rodney really did. "And you’re the best partner I've ever had, but I feel like I did so much more to please the others."

"Rodney, I like touching you." Carson stared into his eyes in a way that tended to make Rodney bend to his will. "I like seeing how good I can make you feel."

"Maybe making you feel good makes me feel good." Rodney sing-songed in a sassy tone as he pulled Carson's foot up to his lap. The doctor laughed.

"Let's at least move to the couch or the bed." Carson stopped to clear the table, because that was the sort of person he was. Rodney brought a towel and massage oil to the bed and stripped down to just his strap.

"What do you want me wearing?" Carson asked.

"As little as you're comfortable in."

Carson stripped bare and lay down on the bed. Rodney moved so the towel was on his thigh and Carson's feet were on the towel. Then he uncapped the oil and started working the sides and arch of one foot with long smooth strokes. The oil smelled like sandalwood to Rodney, although Carson insisted it was unscented. They both agreed it was the perfect consistency for massage.

"Oh, that's lovely. Now tell me what's spinning around in that big brain of yours."

Rodney shifted forward and back, making himself feel good. "I'd rather think about the plug in my ass."

"I'm sure you can think about that, my feet, and whatever is making you feel unsure of yourself."

The funny thing was, Rodney hadn't realized he was feeling unsure until Carson said it. The word made the pieces fall into place. At the same time, he fully appreciated each of Carson's long, sensitive toes as he worked oil slowly between them. "It was all stupid little things. Woolsey called me in for no good reason. Someone made another robot cartoon that featured a pinecone as if I didn't have a penis. And I really do think being seen in the cat kigurumi undermined my image."

"Tell me," Carson said.

Rodney threw himself into giving the best foot massage possible as he told about all the incomprehensible and hurtful things people did that day. Carson shifted between brief words of encouragement and honest sounds of pleasure. By the time Rodney finished rubbing his partner's ankles, he felt like he'd purged all the bad feelings from his day.

When Carson held out his arms, Rodney crawled up the bed for something between a hug and a cuddle. Of course, there was still a vibrator in his ass and a strap cupping his erection. The moment he curled above Carson, Rodney realized how turned on he was. He let Carson know by squirming and rubbing.

Carson kissed him deep and every pass of Carson's tongue made Rodney flex his muscles against the vibrator inside. Just as he was getting desperate for more Carson said, "And now it's my turn to rub your feet."

Rodney let out a groan that seemed to merge with the vibrations inside. But he let Carson shift him into position with the towel and Carson's thigh under his feet. Then Carson slid warm, slick fingers between his toes, and Rodney bucked up off the bed.

"None of that," Carson said in an extra prim parody of his own Scottish accent. "You are lovely, and I can see your cock straining where it's contained, but I also know you can wait. Your toes need attention, too. Although I doubt you'd feel as insecure if someone suggested your robot self was collecting acorns to serve as toes."

"No one would." Rodney answered carelessly, relaxing back into pleasure that was also a bit of frustrating torture. He was very hard and feeling very needy.

"Little they know." Carson lavished attention on each toe before he spoke again, "For all you describe yourself as a slut or always wanting sex, you seem insecure about your body or how other people see you."

"As my sister once told me, I'm 'no John Sheppard.'"

"Your sister is hardly the best source to comment on your desirability." Carson's thumbs on the balls of Rodney's feet almost tickled before he dug deeper.

"The healer who sent me to fetch the pinecone said my lower body wasn't fit, but the rest of the team passed with flying colors."

"That healer was a jerk." Carson had moved on to longer soothing stokes on the soles of Rodney's feet that were somehow both arousing and relaxing. "If you want to take up jogging, do it because it's better for your health in the long run. But that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with your body now. You wouldn't think a brain capable of leaning both Russian and Mandarin was flawed because the person was only studying one so far."

"Should learn physics instead." Rodney felt himself losing the desire to talk and noticed his eyes were closed. His body was like the harp they were listening to. Carson pulled the strings. But there were underlying vibrations from inside that changed the tone and pitch and kept some notes sounding longer.

"The point is you, your brain and your body, are capable of many things. Different people make different choices, and you've already learned and done so much. I wish you could accept yourself and appreciate how beautiful you are to me, inside and out."

Rodney groaned and didn't follow up with any of the innuendo that passed through his brain. "If it would ever help, I'm willing to be more public with our relationship. I feel no need to tell anyone our personal business, and I believe Woolsey was far out of line in asking about you and John. But Biro and I have taken care of medical paperwork for any situation where you should have a different doctor. I am more than proud to claim you publicly any time you want."

"You, too," was all Rodney could say as Carson gripped his ankles tightly.

"I bet you'll find a way to reclaim your authority and your Halloween costume as well. You certainly had no problem silencing and dominating that room last night, even dressed as a cat and recovering from your injuries. I bet you took that for granted and didn't even notice."

Carson was right. Rodney hadn't noticed. Now he pictured himself as a fearsome cat with sharp claws and a sword. Or maybe the sword was a stand in for swinging around his big cock. He didn't mind. There really was nothing wrong with his cock and it was plenty big enough to satisfy. At the moment, it was straining against his strap. The texture inside a constant light touch as the massage and the vibrator kept his body in constant motion. But his mind was slowing down.

Carson's hands had worked their way past his ankles, past his calves. Oily fingers traced up and down the ligament at the back of Rodney's knees. That had never been a hot spot for him before, but something in the way Carson did it made Rodney rock hard.

"Please, inside."

"Let the vibrator do that part. You're still recovering."

Rodney's eyes flew open and latched onto Carson. "Please."

Carson took a deep breath, Rodney swore he could see his partner's eyes dilating as he watched. "Okay, roll on your side."

In just a moment Carson was curled with his front pressed to Rodney's back. It took barely a minute as the strap released and the vibrator was tugged out. Rodney's hole was just beginning to twitch when the tip of Carson's cock pressed in. Back and forth. Little by little. Hitting every patch of oversensitive skin inside.

When Carson's knees pressed against the backs of Rodney's, the oil on his skin reminded Rodney of how erotic the up and down strokes there had felt. Then Carson slid his slick fingers in a V-shape up and down both sides of Rodney's nipple. Like the teasing motions of Carson' cock inside him, it was almost enough. Not quite what he wanted.

Rodney was breathing hard. He didn't let himself press back or forward. He let Carson tease him. The vibrations from before still echoed throughout Rodney's body. He was hard and desperate and completely Carson's instrument, to play as he wanted.

Their bond was open wide, vibrating not with physical need but with the trust Rodney held open. Carson wanted him, all of him. His partner appreciated him in ways Rodney only hoped he could appreciate Carson in return.

For minutes their bodies were linked in pleasure and desire. So much to feel. Rodney felt infinite, scattered across space. Then it all collapsed to a point, a black hole, a sweet spot that exploded into more sensation. Now he was shaking with pleasure. Carson still inside him, shaking with what they shared.

It took a while for Rodney's thoughts to drift back into words. Carson must have pulled himself together sooner, because he was washing Rodney's chest, his cock, his ass with a warm cloth. When he washed Rodney's legs and feet it felt so good, so relaxing, that it took a while to remember the foot rubs and massage oil from what seemed like hours before.

A knock at the door opened Rodney's eyes and turned up his hearing. The clock showed it wasn't yet midnight. Beyond the harp music, his ears could hear John breathing and shifting on his feet.

"Is John," he managed to say.

Carson pulled on pajama pants and pulled the covers over Rodney. The modest Scot even pulled on his pajama top, admittedly unbuttoned, before answering his own door.

"Maybe this isn't a good time," John words were soft, but loud to Rodney's ears.

"Don't leave." Rodney didn't know until the word were out, but he needed to see John tonight. He needed to show his trust to the people who mattered, to put the insecurities of the day behind him.

The door closed, and Carson asked, "Why don't you sit on the couch? Rodney can keep you company while I change the sheets."

Luckily Carson brought Rodney his soft silk robe. He would have wandered over naked, but John probably didn't want that right now.

That didn't stop Rodney from lying down on the couch with his head in John's lap. "I trust you." There, he'd said it.

John only said, "Um, thanks." But he petted Rodney's hair. It was still a little damp from the exertion of sex. He hoped John didn't mind. The smell of sex hung heavy in the room, but Rodney trusted he smelled okay to normal senses, since Carson had washed him and sent him to John.

"This okay?" Rodney asked, just in case.

"Sure it is, buddy." John sounded more like himself. That was good. "But we're going to need a signal, some way to indicate when you're busy so I don't interrupt."

"I wouldn't mind," Rodney said, knowing he was spacey and probably sounded drunk.

"I would though. Not that there's anything wrong with you enjoying sex. I'd just rather have some distance.

"Couch?" Rodney asked. Even in his post-coital buzz, Rodney sensed the conversation with John was easier this way. He was pretty sure Carson was taking his time to change the bed sheets, maybe washing himself up in between steps.

"I guess I could hang out on this couch if you two really wanted me to stay, but I'd rather be in the shower or on my way."

"Like having you here after." Rodney knew he was in an altered headspace, because that wasn't something he could imagine himself saying otherwise. At the same time, John's fingers playing with his hair felt like chocolate, or the best thing ever. He felt lucky to be there.

"I don't know what to say to that. I don't think I should be here at all tonight, but somehow I really wanted to be with you. Maybe it's the bond. Maybe I'm still not over what happened on that planet."

Rodney liked that John wanted to be there. He didn't know why he asked, "Would you like me better as a robot?"

"What? You're fine the way you are. But if you want to be a robot or a cat sometimes, I can be fine with that, too."

The answer soothed Rodney, made him confident enough to ask, "When you said it happens to you sometimes—"

"I knew you wouldn't let that go." John ran a hand through his hair even though it all fell back to the same crazy spikes. Then he went back to fiddling with Rodney's hair, which was better. "I have a penis. I get erections sometimes, especially when I first wake up. Sometimes when I'm stressed an orgasm takes some pressure off and feels sort of good, like I explained once before. But so can using the bathroom when I really need to go. I could never be like you are now, afterward."

"But other touch?"

"Yes, with you and Carson, I'm getting there."

"Stay."

John's hand stilled. "I really shouldn't."

Rodney didn't like the shift in conversation or the stillness of John's hand. "Don't let Woolsey ruin it."

"What? Did he say something to you?" Now John sounded worried.

"He won't try it again. Stay?"

It seemed to take a long, long time for John to answer. "Okay. Since you asked so nicely and Carson changed the sheets and everything."

At that, Carson joined them from across the room. "Besides, I still owe you a massage. And everything is already set up."

#

There was something about the way Carson touched him—and Rodney's touch did it too, even if he didn't have some magical touch-based gift—that kept John wanting more. It wasn't about sex, but there was something else John had been missing and hadn't known he could have. He stripped down to his briefs and was amused to see Rodney actually slipping briefs on under his robe. Carson had two towels laid out on John's side of the bed, so John took that as an invitation to lie down there on his stomach. Rodney curled up beside him with closed eyes and a faint smile, only the edges of their hands touching.

"Are you comfortable?" Carson asked. "Some people like a pillow under their shoulders and head."

"I'm good." John just wanted to get started and was relieved when Carson began with solid circular strokes around his shoulders. His touch always felt so focused and calming. Both Carson's hands and the oil he was using were warm. There was a faint plant scent John couldn't place, but John wasn't sure if that was in the oil or some other product Carson used.

With a sigh, John let his eyes close.

"I don't think you'll need them, but you remember the stoplight colors we discussed before?"

"Mm-hmm," John answered.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to combine massage with gentler forms of touch, to see what works for you. Each relationship is unique, and knowing you're asexual tells me less than you might think about what sorts of intimacy you might enjoy."

As he spoke, Carson had transitioned to long strokes along John's spine that made him feel stretched like taffy and something more. He didn't have words for how Carson relaxed him but also woke some need for touch and being closer to someone. John hummed his appreciation.

"You're going non-verbal on me." There was amusement in Carson's voice, but it sounded fond. His hands never faltered as they pressed smaller circles to either side of John's spine while Carson perched by his hip. Then Carson was kneading John's shoulders, working in to his neck and then out to his biceps. John groaned. He didn't think he'd ever allowed that sound to come out in response to anyone's touch, but here it seemed natural. "Glad you like it. You should let me do this more often."

In his head, John strongly agreed.

Then Carson's touch became lighter, skimming the surface of oil slick skin, tracing the outlines of muscles and ribs, circling idly where Carson had pressed in to loosen muscles before.

The sound John made in his throat was high pitched, almost a whine. He wasn't sure he was comfortable making noises like that even for Carson. But it was honest. If Carson could make him feel whatever he was feeling, then maybe the sounds were part of it, too.

"You feel so good under my hands. I don't know if you've thought much about different forms of intimacy, but to me this touch is intimate without being sexual. The way you spoke with Rodney earlier, even if some of that was about sex, I perceived it as you opening up to him because you wanted him to know you better, not just to satisfy his curiosity but to have a more authentic relationship. I know there are times you don't want to talk, and we'll try to respect that within reason. But I sense your need for emotional intimacy has been just as stifled as your need for physical intimacy. I want you to know, you can have that too. We want both with you, but you always have the choice of how far to go."

"Lorne wants me to see a shrink." The words came from somewhere else, from some box in John's mind he thought he didn't want to open.

"And you didn't know how to process that." Carson's touch became more solid, sweeping warmly over his entire back, rubbing shoulder muscles that had tightened when the words came out. "Is it okay for me to rub your arms?"

"Any exposed skin is fine," John answered, relieved to speak normally, in response to a question.

"Thank you. I think we'll both enjoy that. Is there anything more you want to tell me about what Lorne said?"

John sighed but found he needed to explain. "He prepared an announcement I'll make tomorrow, saying he'll listen to any complaints around 'don't ask don't tell' and the repeal, but referring people to Dr. Gosset if they want other discussion. He seems to think Gosset could help me either as a leader dealing with the repeal or with whatever closeted aspects of myself." John took a deep breath, feeling how much his chest, back and shoulders had tensed as he spoke. He wanted to be done talking, and realized there was one more piece. "And I think Ronon set Private Alonzo up to grab his hair and get cut by a hidden knife while sparring. Ronon didn't give a reason, which makes me think Alonzo said something about me. Is that paranoid?"

"Oh, John," Carson said. Rodney's hand shifted just enough to cover John's where they'd barely been touching before. "That's a lot to put out there when you're not used to confiding in others. Maybe now you can relax. Your back was going to need a deeper pass anyway. I'll work down from your neck to each hand and then we'll see if I can really dig down into those muscles in your back."

As Carson began on the arm nearest to him, on the outside of the bed, John noticed the harp music playing in the background. He'd heard something similar advertised as Gaelic harp at a music festival. The chords were different from what John had learned for guitar. His music education was sort of ad hoc, but the idea that this might be Scottish music Carson had chosen made John want to understand it better. When Carson began speaking again, his words were almost as soft as the music.

"I'm not going to tell you whether to speak to Dr. Gosset or not. I will say I greatly respect his work as a therapist, especially with the military here. If you decide to speak with him, I'm sure you'll benefit from the effort you put in, and I'm certain he'll respect your confidentiality in every way."

John had nothing to say to that. "I need to move my hug machine, too. Before they open the new residences."

"Actually, I'd been thinking about that," Carson said with what sounded like a smile from his voice. "In addition to the three apartments like mine off this corridor, all taken by medical personnel, there are two small rooms that we've labeled meditation rooms. There are only a couple of individuals who use them, and the new recreation center will be a better location for that usage in the future. What if we moved a hug machine into each of them? I could add comfort items to one that I would then be able to offer to sensitive individuals or others in need. You could move the pillows and such from your safe space to the other room. It's a little smaller than your current safe space and probably wouldn't fit a bed as well, but I could say I recommended the room as your doctor if anyone ever discovered you'd been there, and it has the added bonus of being practically next door to my room."

As he spoke, Carson had been kneading and stretching the muscles in John's arm until they felt like taffy. Feeling like he'd already done his part of speaking, John started to drift. Partly he was letting Carson sort out how to touch John and how much to offer in this encounter. A paradoxically avoidant part of John's mind was trying to remember the details of a taffy machine he once saw and imagining Rodney building one for Atlantis.

"Once you decide, you're free to move there. I can help by setting up both machines if you'd like." Carson's fingers trailed lightly over his elbow for a moment. "It matters a lot to me that you felt safe and that you wanted to tell me about your problems today, John. I trust you to understand that I'm not going to reply as a therapist or even a doctor right now. I'm reacting as your friend and intimate partner. While Lorne's words might have hurt you on some level, I'm glad he knows you so well. I think he cares about your best interests and would never willfully expose your secrets or try to benefit at your expense. Do you feel you can trust Lorne?"

"Mm-hmm." John answered the easy part of the question. What Carson said about Lorne mostly put words to what John already knew. It helped to have Carson spell it out. And John was very glad all he had to do was listen and agree. Whatever Carson was doing to his arm felt good but in a way John didn't have words for either. He'd rarely let himself realize how many experiences he couldn't match to words. He wanted a word for what he was feeling now. More than that, he wanted to remember the stretched out but safely tethered feeling. He wanted Carson to keep touching him and talking him through everything.

As Carson stroked John's wrist and hand he switched to lighter touches again, tracing almost playfully around knuckles and along the webbing between fingers. "I won't pretend to understand Ronon, but his loyalty to you was obvious from the start. I think he sees us all very differently than we see each other. It wouldn't surprise me if he assumed you were asexual and had to adjust to a different cultural context from whatever he was used to around that. I'm pretty sure he thinks we're all quite Puritanical and backwards about touch, sex, and probably dozens of other things."

Carson's fingers glided along John's inner arm, behind his armpit, and down his side. John took a sharp breath.

"Is this okay, John?"

"Green."

"We don't have a good word for people wanting to be stroked or petted without it being about sex, do we? But you have all the touch receptors in your skin, signaling to your brain. A lot of people conflate their sense of touch, what is truly sensual, with needs of a more sexual nature. I'm looking forward to exploring that sensual side of you. It seems likely you haven't known that before."

John hummed. It seemed like the natural reply, but even he didn't know what he meant by it.

"I need to move over you to better reach your other arm. Is it okay if I straddle one of your legs or maybe both at some points? If you feel uncomfortable of confined at any time, I promise to move immediately."

"Mm-hmm." The way the mattress dipped and his legs brushed against Carson's was interesting to John in his current state of mind. Every touch felt amplified, and he wondered what it was like for Rodney when his sense of touch scaled up.

Carson settled with one leg on either side of John's thigh, on the side closer to Rodney and the center of the bed. John wondered if Rodney was now touching Carson in some way but felt too lazy to even turn his head in that direction and check. Throughout the repositioning, Carson had kept one hand on John's back. Now he traced up to John's shoulder and neck, hands freshly oiled, and began to massage in a now familiar pattern.

"You've told us you explored enough before to confirm you weren't interested in sex of any kind, but I'm guessing you haven't talked it through with anyone. I will always be happy to listen if you want to tell me more about your experiences, even if you just need a sounding board to sort your own thoughts. I'm sure Rodney or Dr. Gosset could offer you different sorts of listening and feedback. Whatever you need is fine." Carson traced his fingers lightly inside John's elbow and below. "You're fine. Remember that. There's a fine line between being in the closet about some aspects of our identity and choosing who we want to tell or what we prefer to keep private. It seems to me you're dealing with this more than you have in years, if ever. We'll all be here for you when you know what you need or want. And of course, I intend to do my best to build this relationship with you and find ways to better connect."

John felt connected. He wasn't sure that was a feeling word. First there had been the bond, which he sensed and pictured in his mind in almost preternatural detail. That connected him first to Atlantis and then to Rodney and Carson. Perhaps it had made him more aware of other ways he might be connected to people. Now he felt more connected to Carson and Rodney than he'd ever been to people in his life before. It was thrilling in a somewhat out-of-control, roller coaster ride kind of way. He wanted more even if there were moments of fight or flight and uncertainty along the way.

When Carson reached the hand that Rodney had claimed, the doctor stroked them both together. He slipped oiled fingers between their palms in a way that felt much better when John thought of it as sensual and divorced it from any concerns about sex or innuendo. It was a little like stroking Rodney's skin and furry clothing both at once, except now Carson was controlling the strokes that connected him to one partner's skin and the other's.

Another high-pitched whine formed in John's throat, and Rodney responded in kind.

"Easy there," Carson said. "I've got you both."

Carson stroked back up John's arm and began to work his shoulders and back, using what he'd learned the first time to make John's muscles relax much faster.

At the same time, Rodney's fingers moved sleepy and slippery across John's hand. It was touch just for the sake of touch. Then Rodney's fingers interlaced with his and John moaned as his body shuddered with connection, and pleasure.

The hands rubbing his back slowed and eased pressure a bit as Carson said, "Rodney, can you repeat whatever you just did?"

The scientist's fingers slipped back to John's palm, repeating a sequence of tiny motions John had thought merely random but the scientist clearly remembered. Then Rodney's blunt fingertips slid home between John's again. John didn't have to fake the shudder that ran through him. There was something about those fingers sliding in between his, grasping around his in so many places, that felt right. Wanted. His.

The bond between all three humans pulsed with pleasure at the connection.

"When you feel like speaking," Carson said, making deep, long strokes along John's back, "I'd be curious if you have some memory or association with interlacing fingers that way. But take your time to enjoy what your feeling."

What had been the best massage John had ever known became something more. He let himself feel every stroke and knew Carson wanted him to enjoy, to feel good. Rodney, usually so active and demanding, seemed pleased to hold John's hand and know Carson was making John feel good. The finger thing—John had no idea. He knew the feelings of connection somehow strengthened their bond and that fed back to the others. But that didn't matter compared to the experience. John let his thoughts drift back to find any time when someone had woven their fingers through his. Surely it must have happened as a child or when he was trying to date and act normal. But he came up empty. This was his and Rodney's…and Carson's. He was almost certain neither the linking of fingers nor his whole body reaction and sense of connection had ever happened before.

"New." That was all John could say. It came out barely a whisper. Rodney squeezed his hand, all their fingers pressing and sliding together. Carson stroked lightly along John's sides. John let himself float.

He barely noticed when Carson switched to massaging his legs. He heard Carson talking and understood the words, but they flowed through John, soothing like the doctor's touch.

#

Rodney pounded on John's door and was raising his free hand to pound again when the door opened.

John stood there in sweats and a tee shirt, probably what he slept in when he slept alone. For a moment, Rodney forgot his prepared rant because he'd gotten used to John never opening his door and he was stunned in the face of bedtime John at home. "What is it McKay?"

The dismissive tone of voice, so different from the John who'd admitted to feelings from just holding hands a couple nights before, got McKay moving. He stormed into John's strange L-shaped room with the tiny bed and ever watchful Johnny Cash poster and waved the Ancient cube he'd brought as a prop. "Are you sure this is only an Ancient nightlight? I'm getting readings in the infrared and extremely high frequency spectrum." He waved an Ancient scanner and wished the door shut.

In a move that would have been idiotic had Rodney been voicing real concerns, John grabbed the nightlight and started its test sequence. A soft violet light emanated from the cube, becoming bluer so gradually that unenhanced vision wouldn't notice. "Why are you really here?"

Rodney set down his tablet and scanner on John's nightstand as he sat on the edge of the rumpled bed. "You know some team got dosed with truth serum?"

"Yessss," John stretched out the word. "As military commander, I did catch that Stackhouse's team came back compromised this afternoon. Unfortunately, our head of medicine won't let anyone speak with them for fear of illicit interrogation, breach of privacy, misuse of power, or issues surrounding confidentiality."

"He said that to you?" Rodney would have been offended on John's behalf, except he was kind of turned on hearing about Carson being so protective in his work role.

"Not just me." John rubbed at the back of his neck but remained standing. "He locked himself in the isolation room with that whole team claiming doctor-patient confidentially meant no one else could have access until they were cleared for duty."

"Yeah, that means I can't see Carson tonight either." They'd had plans—kinky fun plans—to take Rodney's mind off his fight to reassert authority since what he was calling the Cat Costume Incident (because all other names mentioned sounded much worse).

John huffed out a breath and shook his head. "You came to my quarters because you can't see your boyfriend for one night?"

"Partner, and it's hardly the first time we couldn't be together." Rodney had felt a bit ridiculous, but he'd come up with the nightlight rant to provide plausible deniability. The nightlight had now shifted through blue to aquamarine. "If you're such a well-informed military commander you might remember all the times you kept our team off world overnight or tasked me to save the city overnight. I'm usually fine with extra time on my own."

#

Looking at Rodney, John remembered Carson's explanation about those with heightened senses needing grounding sometimes. The scientist was practically vibrating with tension where he sat. As John watched, Rodney reached out for the earbuds John had been using to relax and commune with Atlantis. They were still plugged into the port near the head of John's bed. John tried to distract the scientist. "What was the real issue with the nightlight?"

"Nothing." He was exploring the earbuds and all the extra cords. "What is this?"

"Just earbuds and stuff. I use them after the hug machine sometimes to help me fall asleep."

"They're Ancient. Do they play your music or something else? And what are all the extra attachments?" Rodney had unbundled the extra cords and was examining each end.

"Just gibberish. I don't understand it, but like I said, it helps me fall asleep. I use the earbuds and sometimes the nose plugs. I don't recognize most of the scents, but they're all pleasant and help me relax."

"Maybe aromatherapy isn't bunk after all. You've kept these tied up?" Rodney was holding out three slightly thicker cables, two articulated with smooth ends and one smooth-sided with a small divot or hole at the end.

"Half the time I leave the nose plugs bundled, too."

"Show me?" When John froze, the scientist waved his free hand up and down. "You've been using an unauthorized Ancient device for who knows how long and now you're afraid to do the testing you should have done in my lab with me watching to begin with? You're clearly not afraid it's going to poke out your eyes or eardrums. The cables aren't long enough to violate your virtue, and I'm guessing your trust in Atlantis is why you've been using the other parts the way you have. You might as well try the rest while I'm here to note any issues and so a second person knows the regular operation mode for the device. I promise, if it gives you truth serum I won't do any of that stuff Carson warned you about."

"What?" John wasn't sure if he'd lost Rodney's train of logic or was caught in denial again.

"This one is obviously meant for your mouth." Rodney waved the smooth cable with the hole in the end at him.

John had never before seen it that way. His mind shied away from thinking about it even now that Rodney was almost literally shoving it his face. Denial it was then. With a bit of fight or flight.

"You want me to test it instead?" Rodney asked, rolling the articulated cords between his fingers in a way that looked more like fondling.

"No." Atlantis had given John the bundle with the earbuds. It was his, from his bond mate. And he'd been refusing half of what was offered. He could almost hear Carson's voice in his head, telling John whatever he wanted at whatever pace was fine. But suddenly John wanted and was impatient to find out more. "I'll try it, but you shouldn't interfere unless I tell you to."

"Or I see something dangerous." Rodney was already tapping something into his Ancient scanner. "If you're going to try the tube in your mouth, you should hold my hand so you can squeeze if there's a problem."

"Atlantis wouldn't hurt me." John lay down on his bed, hip touching Rodney's because the bed was ridiculously small.

"I know, but you're not an Ancient. Think of all the machines and bio-hazards that have threatened us in the past, some of them only because we differed from their creators in unexpected ways." Rodney passed the bundle of cords to John and took his hand. Their fingers weren't laced this time, but the gentle contact eased something in John the same as starting up the hug machine each time.

John closed his eyes and put in the earbuds. They instantly whispered to him in a language that defied Gate translation but sounded natural and soothing to John after so much exposure. He put in the nose plugs and after a few moments noticed a cozy indoor smell, like something baking or roasting with just a hint of unknown spice. Before Rodney could prompt him, John took the single cord that seemed to be meant for his mouth and tucked it between his lips.

There wasn't any rush of liquid. After a moment, John started to salivate at the faintly salty or savory taste. It partly matched the scent like cooking, and John thought he was tasting the unknown spice. His tongue tingled or twitched and then rubbed against the top of John's mouth as if trying to touch the flavor. Or maybe he was trying to produce more. The flavor grew more piquant the more John's taste buds chased it.

Then John felt gentle pressure circling at both temples. His eyes flew open as he realized the two articulated cables were touching him. But he didn't squeeze Rodney's hand. The room was golden as the nightlight had shifted hue again. Rodney met John's eyes, and it was jarring to be caught in the sounds, smells, and taste of Atlantis while staring at one of his other bond mates in that warm light. The touch at his temples softened and slowed, became more tentative.

Carefully not shifting the hand Rodney held, John closed his eyes. The cables touching him were warm and smooth. They adjusted their pressure and speed until John couldn't help but relax under the perfect touch. Muscles around his eyes and forehead that John hadn't previously noticed relaxed as well.

Then the cables slid back into John's hair. He tensed for a moment before taking a deep breath though his nose, which brought him more of the smell that had shifted to something a bit sweeter and smokier. The scent reminded him of roasted marshmallow.

As the cables explored around John's ears, neck, and all of his scalp, John focused on breathing regularly. The exploratory touches became more confident as they found motions John enjoyed. It wasn't soothing in quite the same way Rodney or Carson's fingers in his hair might be. But Atlantis was controlling the cables and must be receiving fairly thorough feedback in the way a physically present person would, because each stroke improved until John didn't think it could get any better. Then the motion was repeated until it became less desirable or faded to background, at which point the cables would try something new. It felt even more like Atlantis was learning to touch him than what had happened before with the hug machine or the jets in the jacuzzi.

John didn't know how long he'd been caught up in his own sensations when the noise from his earbuds and all the other sensory input faded and he started to hear human voices passed through some sort of speaker.

#

Rodney had been thinking about Carson and how patiently the man explored Rodney's reactions and offered him pleasure, as he watched Atlantis gradually adjust the sensory cable device to soothe and comfort John.

Then Rodney heard Carson's voice piped through the Ancient scanner that Rodney had originally set to monitor John but hadn't currently been touching. "The contagious period has passed, but the agent turned out to be viral. I'm infected and probably still compromised. I'll stay the night with my patients, who I would have kept overnight for observation in any case. You'll have my full report tomorrow when I can be sure I won't inadvertently violate anyone's confidentiality."

"You're saying it's not a truth serum but a truth virus?" That voice was Woolsey's.

"Yes. Dr. Biro has access to all medical data collected and should be able to answer any medical concerns. I have taken myself off duty other than to physically assist any patients in this isolation room should that become necessary. And I told you before, this intercom is for emergency use only due to concerns about illicit interrogation, breach of privacy, misuse of power, or issues surrounding confidentiality."

"I decide what's an emergency, and I think a truth virus spreading across Atlantis counts as an emergency." Woolsey was sputtering in a tone Rodney hated more than anyone else shouting.

The transmission had evidently pulled John from whatever pleasant semi-aware state he'd been in, as the Colonel was removing all the cords from his face, detaching the device from the wall, and bundling it back into his nightstand.

Carson's accent was more pronounced and his voice slightly higher pitched as he said, "The virus is not that easy to spread and we've already fed the needed information into Atlantis to create containment protocols. No one outside of this room is affected. There is no emergency and no reason for this conversation."

"Well, I say it is an emergency," Woolsey's tone was calm and smug in contrast to Carson's. "We're dealing with a previously unknown virus, and I need to know if you've had any personal contact with members of the command staff or other individuals."

"I haven't been in physical contact with anyone but my patients since entering this isolation room," Carson sounded exasperated and a little confused. Rodney wondered if the truth virus made Carson feel spacy the way some pain medications did while also lowering inhibitions. He wished he could be with his partner, but knew Carson had already sent him away once. All he could hope was that Woolsey would also be sent away and stop pestering Carson.

He turned to see John had changed into the uniform he wore while working on Atlantis and was pulling on socks. Rodney wondered if John was planning to confront Woolsey. Even if they couldn't get into the isolation room or talk over the intercom, Rodney would gladly follow him to the infirmary to help shout down Woolsey. And then Rodney heard words that outstripped even his lowest opinion of Woolsey's intentions and intellect.

"I know Sheppard used sex to get his way with Weir and possibly Carter. I thought he was targeting McKay now, but tell me, are you and Sheppard involved in an illicit sexual relationship?"

"No, I'm not having sex with John and neither is Rodney. We would never do that."

At that point there was another voice in the background, and Rodney thought it might be Biro shouting something that at least included the word "inappropriate."

John had his shoes on, and was heading for the door. "You have that recorded, right?"

Rodney felt like time had jumped forward without him. He glanced at the Ancient scanner in his hand, something he wouldn't have thought could monitor or transmit conversation from the infirmary if he'd even considered trying something so invasive. But it could certainly store data, and Rodney saw it had stored what it had played for them. "Yes." Rodney had nothing more to say as he grabbed his tablet as well and followed John out the door, leaving the Ancient nightlight fading through red tones.

In the transporter, they heard Carson's response to a question at least Rodney had missed. "Yes, Rodney and I are, but there's nothing improper about it."

Biro's voice was clearer in the background saying, "I really must insist—"

Woolsey cut her off saying, "But you’re a clone, not even human. Even McKay should be disgusted by that. Clearly you aren't human enough to be disgusted by what you've become."

Then they were out of the transporter, and John reached the infirmary two steps ahead of Rodney. A patrol team of four military were waiting in the hall and followed John in the door.

"Mr. Woolsey," John spoke loudly enough to be heard across the infirmary and down two halls, "by my authority as Military Commanding Officer of Atlantis I am ordering you removed from the infirmary under charges of misuse of powers, illicit interrogation, and possible breaches of privacy and medical confidentiality. These troops will escort you to your quarters where you will be held under house arrest during the investigation."

"You don't have the authority—" Woolsey began.

"Yes, I do." John's stance and the expression on his face were as hard as Rodney had ever seen. The patrol that had met him in the hall formed a box around Woolsey. Biro positioned herself between Woolsey and the isolation room door.

"You have nothing but hearsay," Woolsey protested, but even to Rodney's ears he seemed less sure of himself.

"Evidently the system for communicating with the isolation room produces a recording." Without looking at Rodney, John said, "Dr. McKay, could you arrange for a copy of the most recent conversation to be saved in evidence format and provided to my XO and your second in the science department as well as to command staff?"

Rodney nodded as he sent a tamperproof copy from the Ancient scanner to Lorne, Zelenka, and the rest. Everything he wanted to shout at Woolsey died on Rodney's tongue as he saw through the isolation room window that Carson was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up and his face hidden. It was a pose Rodney had never expected to see the doctor take, especially at work. It tore at Rodney in a way he couldn't articulate even as his bond pulled him to the isolation room doors.

John seemed to notice Carson's position at the same time, but he didn't give anything away as he ordered, "Take Mr. Woolsey to his quarters, now. Routine inspection and guard per house arrest protocols."

Dr. Biro stepped between Rodney and the isolation room entrance saying, "I can't let you in there. Even if scans show they're not contagious anymore, containment protocols won't allow contact for several more hours."

"What if I wore a biohazard suit?" Rodney suggested, unable to take his eyes off Carson's shaking form. He was almost certain his partner was crying now, curled up in a ball on the floor.

Biro glanced in at Carson and looked away fast. "Give me a few minutes to query the system."

As soon as Biro was gone, the door opened. Rodney hadn't even made a mental request, let alone hacked the system for entry. He heard a sniffle from Carson and was in the door and holding his partner on the floor before he made a conscious decision. The door closed behind him and containment lights shown above the door, indicating he couldn't leave. Rodney didn't have the energy to think about what Atlantis or their bond may have set in motion.

All of Rodney's concern focused on Carson in that moment. "Don't let Woolsey get to you. He is a narrow-minded, ignorant, self-deluding, pencil pusher who had no right to say any of those things."

"They're true," Carson whispered hoarsely into his own knees. "I'd thought them all before. I was lying to myself to think I could be loved, be worthy."

"What? No." Rodney caught himself starting to hyperventilate and forced himself to take deep slow breaths while thinking of blue skies. "Maybe the virus doesn't just force you to tell the truth. Maybe it makes you believe others are telling the truth. Oh god, I hope I'm not crossing some line here that I'm—" Rodney took another deep breath. "Listen, I'm going to do my absolute best to tell you only the truth so long as we're both stuck in here, even if it's no longer contagious and I'm not forced to. That way it shouldn't matter whether you believe me because of some virus or because of trust you already have for me. First, I love you. I am more sure of that than I have ever been of any feeling in my life. You are more worthy of my love than anyone I've ever known. Being cloned didn't make you any less human. I say that as both a scientist and your partner. You show me every day how much you care about me and all sorts of other people. You show me how to be more human. I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone else, and I am here to tell you that you are human, you are worthy, and you are loved."

Carson looked up with puffy eyes and tear tracks still obvious on his face. Then he wrapped his arms around Rodney, right there on the cold infirmary floor, and cried and shook against Rodney's shoulder.

Looking over Carson's shoulder, three of the patients in the room appeared to be asleep. But one, Sergeant Stackhouse, blinked slowly. Then he nodded and extended a hand from beneath his covers to give a thumbs-up before slowly turning away to rest on his other side.

Any other day, Rodney would have worried for his image or his privacy. At the moment, it was all he could do to hold and comfort his devastated partner. He spent the next half hour rubbing a hand up and down Carson's back and whispering the same truths over and over again. When Carson fell asleep, completely exhausted, Rodney shifted them both to a more comfortable position and then stroked Carson's hair as he slept.

#

Lorne arrived at John's office looking as clean pressed and perfect as usual.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Sit down." John closed and locked his office door with a thought. "You don't need to be so formal. It's late, and I may have just crossed the line that gets you my job."

"Sir?"

John understood why Lorne stuck to formal address in situations like this. Sometimes John just didn't feel up to playing the part assigned him. "On Earth I'd be calling for legal advice. Unfortunately, Woolsey is the only lawyer on Atlantis, and I can't ask him for help. Since SGC refuses to even assign anyone to act as police on Atlantis, I'm hoping you can help me figure out some paperwork or maybe diplomacy. First, you better listen to the audio file McKay sent you."

Lorne pulled out a spare tablet he'd set up for himself or others to use when situations or summons landed them in John's office. It was painful for John to even hear the interchange again, but he forced himself to take notes on his own tablet and was actually a bit calmer by the end. The recording had captured John announcing charges and telling McKay to send the recording to Lorne, Zelenka and the others.

To Lorne's credit, he treated the incident as if it were business as usual. Compared to other calamities they'd faced together, at least no one was dead or bleeding. "Dr. Beckett clearly stated he was off duty and tried to stop Woolsey from questioning him while he was under the influence of—was it a truth virus?"

"That's right."

"Can you tell me where you came up with the charges you rattled off?"

John slouched back in his chair, "They were phrases Beckett used to chase me and others out of the infirmary earlier."

"Okay, so we need to check the regs for interrogation, civilian privacy protections while off duty and possibly under the influence of something involuntarily, Beckett's rights as a doctor and head of medicine, Woolsey's rights as current head of the expedition, sexual harassment stipulations, anything else?"

"We should probably check my authority to confine Woolsey to his quarters," John rubbed the back of his neck.

"I assume Beckett's statements were all true?"

"To the best of my knowledge." When Lorne glanced at him over the tablet where he was now busily taking notes, John clued in and said, "The parts about me not having sex with anyone were definitely true."

"Could be a long night." Lorne set to work with a shrug.

John was glad he'd already made the announcement Lorne had written about how to handle DADT repeal issues going forward. In no capacity did he want to know what Lorne had believed about his CO's sex life the last time they talked, but now he was glad Lorne wasn't as annoyed with him as he'd been then. Even if John hadn't cared for his own sake and Carson's, Atlantis and all who lived there needed Lorne on their side.

#

Rodney was still sitting on the floor petting Carson's hair when his tablet lit up with a personal reply from Zelenka. "Sorry you were outed but congratulations on dating Beckett. I knew you were nicer for a reason."

Then there was a message from Zelenka copied to all recipients of the recording except Woolsey, leaving Sheppard, Lorne, and McKay. "Searched for keywords in charges Sheppard announced (and a few others from recording) crossed with referents in Atlantis charter (including all amendments) and all paperwork relevant to Carson and Woolsey's employment and positions. Results are attached. Let me know what else might help." The attachment was seven pages long.

Rodney took a deep breath and stretched his back as well as he could without jostling Carson.

#

The next day, complaints and charges from all parties had been sent to SGC. Teyla had offered her services as a mediator, but Woolsey had refused. Carson had been asked to stay in his quarters and to avoid discussing the situation with anyone not already involved. John and Lorne had already been refusing to discuss it outside the course of their investigation.

Rodney went to the mess and demanded a tray of comfort food for Carson even though they were officially between meals when Carson moved from the infirmary to his own quarters. While those working in the kitchen put something special together, a medic Rodney didn't know by name brought "a selection of soothing teas" and a Scottish linguist Rodney thought also had a surname beginning with "Mc" handed him a tin of assorted Walkers biscuits that Carson liked.

When Rodney reached his partner's room with a very full tray of choice mess hall foods as well as the two special offerings, Carson forced a smile and said, "Thank you Rodney." But he didn't reach for any of the food or look up from where he sat on the couch.

"The tea is from some medic and the cookies, from that Scottish linguist."

"Thank you for bringing me food. You don't need to stay though. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Rodney could hear the hurt in his own voice and kicked himself for laying that on Carson, too. But it caused Carson to meet his eyes for the first time all day, and Rodney didn't like how bloodshot they were or the gray tone of the fine skin underneath.

"I don't think I'll be good company. If I can't sleep, I should probably do what work I can from here."

"I could work from here too. And I don't need you to be good company. You can even yell at me if you want. I can take it."

"Oh, love." Carson sighed and held out his hand. Rodney was quick to sit beside him on the couch. "I don't ever want to yell at you. It makes me sad to find myself in such a sorry state that I can't be good company for you, let alone the partner you deserve."

"None of that 'deserve' or 'worthy' stuff." Rodney flashed back to the night before and how truly Carson seemed to doubt his own worth, even his own humanity. He wondered how much uncertainty the confident doctor kept hidden, but he knew better than to ask about that now. "You're mine, Carson. I love you and want to keep you. I know you like being the one watching out for me or taking care of me, but there must be times when you want to be taken care of. I'm sure you need something, because even I can tell you're sad, and I'm the most socially inept person I know. Except for Woolsey. After last night, I'm moving him to the top of my list of most useless and inept people, across the board. He's pathetic and you shouldn't believe anything he says. You're wonderful. Deal with it."

Carson was shaking his head, but the corners of his mouth were curving up with tired amusement.

"Now, because I suck at this, I'll present you options in multiple choice format, and you can opt for none of the above as needed. Do you want food, a hot shower, or a back rub first?" Rodney waited.

"Perhaps a cup of tea if I can look through what's on offer?"

Rodney passed Carson the box of teas the medic said were soothing and went to fill Carson's mug with hot water.

Once Carson had his tea set up to steep, he asked, "Do you really want to stay and look after me all morning? I've never had a partner who wanted that."

Rodney nodded. "I just need help knowing what to do."

"You could start by serving us each a plate of food. There is nothing on that tray I don't like, so you really can't go wrong."

Not ever caring for himself how things looked, Rodney still tried to cover their plates neatly. He put the sausages and another hot meat, something similar to ham, beside each other, with two small light colored biscuits on each side of those. Then he filled the rest of the plate with a rainbow of fruit.

"Lovely. Thank you," Carson said when handed his plate. They sat side by side to eat. Carson used his ATA gene to start a mix of classical music they could both enjoy, and there was no need to speak until they finished eating.

They cleared the dishes together and then Carson said, "I need a shower. Would you like to join me?"

Rodney wasn't sure what sort of a shower it would be, but he didn't want to be parted from his partner.

It turned out to be a slow dance under warm water. They didn't need to wash hair, but cleaning each other with Rodney's honey scented shower gel and rubbing together as they rinsed off had them both smiling by the end. Rodney was visibly turned on but not Carson. That wasn't entirely unusual on a regular day, and Rodney hadn't expected Carson to want sex after his forced confession and emotional breakdown in the isolation room. Therefore he was surprised when Carson said, "Dry off and get the prostate massager."

Carson had originally given Rodney the toy to see how he'd like it compared to his vibrating butt plug. It had a curved arm that could deliver quite a bit of pressure and vibration right to Rodney's sweet spot. A wider bulb kept it far enough inside while an almost perpendicular section fit into Rodney's crack and extended forward to also vibrate against his perineum. There were seven different setting, and Rodney had come in under five minutes the first time he experimented on his own. While it could make Rodney come fast and hard, that often wasn't what he wanted. The few times they'd used it together were when Carson wanted that immediate reaction, sometimes to wring out a second orgasm, sometimes to force one out before loosening Rodney up for some bigger and longer tease.

"Would you be okay with just this for now?" Carson asked when they were both dry and Rodney had the toy in hand. "I don't know how long we'll be left alone or what will happen later in the day. I want to see you come, and then I'd like to curl up for a nap. You could either nap with me or work. Would that be enough for you for now?"

"I don't need sex if you're not into it," Rodney said. Just holding the toy was enough to keep him aroused, but his intention had been to take care of Carson today.

"I said I want to see you come," the voice Carson used convinced Rodney in a hot minute. "I think you'll feel better afterward as well, and we both know it won't diminish your interest if we want something more involved tonight."

"Where do you want me?"

Carson set Rodney up at the end of the bed where the toy would be pressed up into him and he could control exactly where it pressed most by rocking. Then Carson sat naked in front of him. It was Carson's hand that turned the toy on. He didn't start with the gentlest setting, but with one that faded in and out. "Sit still and feel for a moment. Anticipate the rise and fall of sensation."

It was a lot of sensation. When Rodney closed his eyes and paid attention, it was almost too much at the peak. He opened his eyes and met Carson's.

"I remember every word you said to me last night." There was no hint of embarrassment or negative association as Carson said it. "You put together that I might be suggestible, and you made sure I knew you loved me and considered me worthy. You told me over and over. I can still hear you in the back of my mind."

Rodney noticed his reassurances that Carson was human weren't mentioned. Maybe that part carried too many mixed emotions.

"When I'm feeling dominant, I like to praise you. It makes me feel good to touch you that way as well as physically. And maybe I think that when you're turned on, or in what I'd call subspace, you’re a bit suggestible. It's instinctive. I want you to know, really know deep down, that I love you. I do love you. I respect your brilliance and good intentions as well. And while you don't think much of your own social skills, you were perfect both last night and this morning. I want you to feel good. You deserve to feel good."

Carson leaned forward and turned the toy to its second most intense setting. "Ride it for as long as you can or as long as you want. I'm happy to see you rock or squirm." Rodney did both as soon as Carson said that. "But I'm not going to touch your cock until you're already coming. And I'm the only one who gets to touch your cock or nipples." With that, Carson rubbed Rodney's nipple hard between his fingers.

Rodney arched and the toy dug into his prostate. He was rocking and panting in almost uncontrollable ecstasy. It couldn't last. It wasn't meant to last. Still, Rodney wanted all he could get. He bit his lip and tried to hold back his orgasm for as long as he could.

"That's my brilliant partner. You're going to fight for every moment you can get. You're already flushed from your face to your pubes. But you want more. I want to see you take more." Carson's fingers on Rodney's nipples became light and teasing. "How long can you last, my love?"

Rodney groaned at the challenge, and the pet name.

"Can you even force your eyes open to see the time? Do you even want to?"

Rodney wanted the time, wanted to come, wanted to stay turned on and out of control forever. He didn't have a particular kink for being watched, but with Carson watching him like this, Rodney felt like every vibration came from his partner's touch. Carson controlled the vibrator as surely as he was stroking Rodney's nipples. His nipples were so hard. The lightest brush stung but sent pleasure shooting through nerves radiating down to his groin and out through his limbs. He was a lightning rod. Struck over and over again. The smell of sex mixed with the imagined smell of ozone. His lip bled a little where he'd bitten too hard. Rodney licked the blood and then felt Carson's mouth on his.

Every muscle in his body clenched. Surely he was dripping with precome as he rocked back and forth. Barely full inside but taut with sensation. His need to come was ramping up and up.

Carson ended the kiss and bent to lick Rodney's nipples. The only physical contact between them was Carson's tongue circling his nipple. Then he sucked down hard, and Rodney felt orgasm rip though his whole body at once. Somehow Carson's hand landed right where Rodney needed it most. Pumping and milking. Rodney felt electric. The intensity stretched until Rodney shuddered and fell back on the bed.

The toy inside him was suddenly too much. Rodney whimpered and it was gone. "There. You're beautiful. Do you feel good? I love you so much. Let me rinse you off and then I'll hold you any way you want."

The cloth that rinsed him had Rodney squirming, not with pain, but something like aftershocks.

Then Carson was naked beside him and they were between clean sheets. The feel of Carson's skin was exactly the texture Rodney needed. He blanketed himself over his partner, who obligingly wrapped Rodney in his arms, giving him all the contact he could want. "There. I think you're going to sleep, and I'm going to follow you under."

That sounded good to Rodney. So long as they stayed together.

#

While Woolsey was under house arrest, John made an effort to stay near the control room as much as possible. Lorne and Zelenka had found an item in the Atlantis charter that gave any two members of the four person Atlantis command staff the right to confine any member who was found harassing or attempting to unfairly influence the remaining member. Since McKay had walked in with Sheppard and the guards who took custody of Woolsey, he had gleefully signed onto a statement implying they'd known this rule all along. That had been sent to SGC along with the recording, a tidied up list of charges, and individual statements from: Beckett, Sheppard, McKay, Biro, Stackhouse (as both a witness and patient with rights to confidentiality), and last but not least, Woolsey.

It wasn't really a surprise when they had a Gate dial in from Earth and O'Neill appeared on their video screen, "Colonel Sheppard!"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't you think I have enough of my own work to do without you sending me yours?"

"Sorry, sir. Does that mean you want us to send you Woolsey?"

"Oh for crying out loud, the IOA wants him and Beckett, too. Four hours from now. We know you've got the power for the wormhole. We're only going to Gate them back to you because someone argued you'd either need your head doctor back fast or we'd have to provide a replacement."

"Should I be sending Dr. Lam flowers?"

"She prefers chocolates. Can you be ready to send them in four hours?"

"Yes, sir."

"Peachy. Earth out."

#

"John," Carson rose from the couch as soon as the door to his quarters was closed and locked. "I didn't think you'd be able to come here."

John met Carson just inside the door and actually initiated a hug.

Rodney had stood from the couch as well, but hung back until John held out an arm to motion him over. He joined the three-way hug and felt their bond tug like the diamond shape John had once described. The Ancient console in the room acted as the fourth corner, and John reached out to rest a hand there.

"I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news," John said, "and this was my only chance to see you in private."

"They want to question me on Earth along with Woolsey." Carson stepped back but kept a hand on each of their sides as he said it.

"No!" Rodney protested.

"You knew?" John asked.

"I guessed." Carson turned and started packing a bag. "How long should I expect to be gone?"

"Dr. Lam convinced them they have to Gate you back rather than make us wait for the next Daedalus run. I think we owe her chocolates, by the way." Sheppard plopped down on the bed by Carson's suitcase as Rodney went to the bathroom to fetch Carson's toiletries kit for travel.

"I have a nice box of chocolates I can give her."

Returning with the kit, Rodney protested for form's sake. "Wait, there's chocolate I don't know about?"

"Don't worry, this trip will give me a chance to pick up more." Carson kissed Rodney softly as he took the bag and said, "Thank you, love."

That's when it really hit Rodney that Carson was leaving them for an unknown amount of time, leaving with Woolsey of all people. His stomach clenched and though Rodney tried to keep his face blank, both Carson and John reached out to touch him.

Carson looped an arm around his shoulders and said, "I can take care of myself on Earth, and I've studied all the arguments Zelenka and Lorne compiled."

John had clutched Rodney's knee, as it was most convenient from his ridiculous sprawl across the bed. "Atlantis won't let them keep him. And I'll do the best I can while he's gone. You can even hide out in my secret room if you want. I've moved it to the ex-meditation room next door, as Carson suggested."

"More like I'll do the best I can to keep you out of trouble." Rodney whacked John's arm playfully but didn't try to push him away. "Don't think I missed that this leaves you in charge."

"Technically, I've been in charge since yesterday."

Rodney couldn't help but wave his arms in protest. "Only because I showed up with you. Now wasn't that convenient?"

"Just hope there aren't any awkward questions about how we both arrived at the infirmary so fast with that recording." John pulled himself up to a more normal sitting posture, tugging on Rodney's knee and bracing his other hand on the Ancient console in the process. "And for the record, I never wanted to be the expedition leader. Protecting it is enough for me."

Carson pulled Rodney close and reached out to lace his fingers carefully through John's. "Maybe that's why Atlantis wanted all three of us. Together, we have a better chance at taking care of her. And each other."

#

There was no time for John to visit his hug machine on the day he sent Woolsey and Carson through the Gate. By the next night he was restless and exhausted as he staggered into his secret room.

"Not sleeping well either?"

John reached for a weapon he wasn't wearing before recognizing Rodney's voice. Reminding himself he'd invited the scientist into his private space.

Rodney was half buried in the pile of beanbags and pillows but also working on his tablet.

"Yeah, well, if you don't mind…" John gestured to his hug machine.

"Nope, go ahead."

Part of John wanted to send Rodney away. Part of John wanted to throw himself into the pillows and cuddle with Rodney.

Without another word, John climbed into the hug machine. The lid closed. Balloons filled around him with warm air and filtered light like the sun on Earth. John relaxed into the comforting hold of his bond mate. For a few minutes all was right with his world.

Then John felt something warm and smooth pressing at his hand. He heard a roar, that he refused to believe was a tiger, and the sound devolved into the uninterpretable noises he thought of as Atlantis speaking. By the time his balloons deflated and the lid pulled back on his hug machine, John knew what he had to do.

"You still there, Rodney?" John's voice sounded half-asleep, even to his own ears.

"Of course, I'm still here. You realize I was waiting here mostly to see you without drawing attention. Not that I don't appreciate your pillow corner and bean bags. Still, I'd been in here working for over an hour. Then you show up and head straight to that machine. I know when I'm second best, but honestly, being second best to a machine is less hurtful than being second best to a human. If I think of it as being second best to Atlantis I'm not jealous at all—"

"Good." John managed to interrupt. "I think you're supposed to come lie on top of me in this machine."

"Supposed to?" Rodney sounded skeptical, but he was now standing beside the hug machine looking down at John. "Are you sure about this?"

Until a minute before, John would have hated the idea. "Pretty sure. Let's try it. I don't think the top is going to close, so you can always get out. I'll poke you wherever I can reach if I want you off me."

"Hmph, I'll try it for science." Then Rodney climbed on top of John and wiggled himself into a comfortable position as if it were the most natural thing in the world. John expected to feel trapped or squished, but after his first short session in the hug machine, he actually felt more comfortable with the extra pressure that was Rodney on top of him.

The lid only half closed as balloons inflated around them. John was squeezed as tightly as ever. The way Rodney fidgeted slightly and even the motion of his breathing felt extra good while John was held everywhere else. In no time, he felt the gentle swells like the ocean below him. His beautiful crystal iceberg bumped his side even as Rodney tensed about him.

"John, tell me we're not in the ocean."

"It's not real."

"Oh, that's why if feels so off. This might be worse than the extra gravity, extra depressing beta sight we found." Rodney sounded close to panic, and John couldn't move to comfort him the way he usually would.

"Try to relax. Think of blue skies. It's not a real ocean. The iceberg beside us is warm."

"Iceberg?" That got Rodney's thoughts out of their spin. "John, it's beautiful. It's not an iceberg but a giant Ancient crystal, like a bed sized ZPM. Is it yours? Did you send it to rescue me when that cliff fell out from under me? I thought I imagined that part." There was a long pause before Rodney asked in a less rhetorical tone, "John, why is there a white tiger sitting on your iceberg crystal?"

"I think he's yours. And we are seriously never speaking of this in the real world. Understood?"

"Mine?"

At that the tiger let out a huff that sounded just like Rodney when he was impatient with someone. The scientist carefully pushed his way off John and then up onto the iceberg where he sat next to a tiger and reached out a hand. The tiger pushed into the touch, and Rodney gasped. "Is he part of our bond, John? I feel him like he's part of that."

"To me it seems like he's part of you, but I've had enough with the bonds. Seeing invisible animals or crystal icebergs is crossing a line I don't want to cross."

"They wanted you to bring me here." Rodney hugged the tiger and buried his face in the white and black stripes. As one hand stroked the cat, the other petted the crystal iceberg.

John closed his eyes and relaxed into the crystal, ocean, and balloons that pressed into him, holding him together. They were all connected. At some point, he'd need to bring Carson in this way, too.

When the balloons started to deflate, John felt the warmth of Rodney's body pressing down on him again. He could get used to that feeling.

#

Rodney had been elbow deep in repairing the Earth parts of a forklift they'd hybridized with Ancient robotics while the city was stuck on Earth. Unlike working with pure Ancient tech, this left Rodney covered in grease and two kinds of oil. An urgent summary to deal with a military complaint against one of his staff was the last thing he needed.

He stormed into the shower area off gym one in the main tower and said, "Why am I here?"

"Because you need a shower?" one of the Marines teased.

The Marine trying to insult him was purple, and rather streaky, like a poorly dyed Easter egg. Rodney decided to ignore that for now. "Unlike those with time to play in the gym at midday, I was busy keeping this city running. Work I will return to once someone tells me what problem you think requires my genius and my time."

Aside from the purple group, who looked freshly showered, with wet hair dripping faintly purple spots onto fresh clothing and towels, there were four other military in workout clothes standing behind them watching. Teyla and Ronon stood closer to Rodney, sweaty and holding bantos rods, which suggested they'd been sparing nearby. John stood between the two groups and said, "They're claiming a biologist did this too them."

"Is it the holiday where they throw dye again?" Rodney had once snuck in to grab a snack at a party he hadn't exactly been invited to and ended up with a uniquely dyed uniform that never came totally clean. And some very good snacks. He remembered now, the holiday had been called Holi. Maybe he could find out when it was coming around this year. The mess had been totally worth it for the food.

"No, something in the showers dyed them purple," John said.

"Are we hypothesizing miniature biologists in the plumbing now?" Rodney looked around, wiped his greasy hands on his pants, and then pulled out his life signs detector and an Ancient scanner. "Should I use this to scan for tiny biologists?" He waved the life signs detector. "Or this to scan for actual problems that might affect the plumbing." He waved the Ancient scanner that had recently been upgraded with some limited water testing capabilities.

"A biologist named Sandy did this for revenge!" It was a different purple person speaking this time, and the other three all glared at him.

"Revenge for what?" Rodney asked, pointing the Ancient scanner at the speaker. He ran two basic scans while he was at it. Might as well be efficient.

"We swapped his clothes for girl clothes. Nothing like this. This stuff doesn't wipe off."

"Girl clothes?" Rodney repeated. "So not a microscopic or tiny biologist, but one that fits child-sized clothes?"

"I mean a dress. He said he was curious about some sex change machine, so we wanted to give him a preview."

Rodney turned to John while reading the scan that seemed to show the purple Marines were still healthy and had bathed in clean water, other than it leaving them purple. "Sheppard, I think your idiotic recruits missed the Intro to Atlantis talk that covered: Don't piss off the scientists who control your water supply. Also, probably the sexual harassment one that Woolsey needs as well. Maybe they can sit through it with him and brighten his day with whatever this purple fad is they're trying to get started. My scans don't show anything dangerous in the water. And I'm hesitant to call any science or medical staff to examine the showers right now. Exposure to these idiots might lower their social skills or even their effective IQ."

John glared at the purple Marines. "I am happy to consider your suggestions for further training, Dr. McKay. Meanwhile, there are other sweaty people using the gyms on this level. If this is a prank, it's gone a bit beyond turning off someone's hot water, which should at worst happen in a private shower where it affects only one person. Could you kick some scientist ass to get the showers fixed fast and make it clear this sort of retaliation is off limits?"

Rodney glared. "Even I prefer not to piss off biologists. Forget the showers, they can tamper with your food and give you diarrhea. That's the sort of prank I'm willing to go to battle over."

"Man up and discipline the scientists or we'll do it for you." That was the Marine who teased Rodney about needing a shower when he first arrived.

"Shut it, Corporal," John said.

"Yes, sir."

"Seriously, do you understand who you're threatening?" McKay was tired of entertaining the masses with rants made memorable by humor and insults. They didn't understand that was his way of playing nice. "So you stole one biologist's clothes and now you're purple. Not that you have presented any evidence these two events are even correlated, but you probably don't understand data collection or using the scientific method to prove causation rather than correlation anyway. I'll put this in terms even you can understand. Do you know what I can do if you piss me off? I can force the entire science staff to attend a training titled: Don't Paint Marines Purple. I can tell them how you overheard a scientist express curiosity in the course of doing his job, certifying a medical device that can repair or replace parts of the reproductive system. It might repair your penis someday if half got shot off, all because some scientists did their jobs. Have you thought about that?" Rodney gave the now silently fuming Corporal an appraising look and added. "Not that it would be a great loss." Then he continued on quickly. "And yet, do you know what would happen if I told the whole science staff how you and your friends started this over an innocent comment a scientist made while working? If I told the whole science staff about this while you're all still purple and easy to spot?" He paused for effect, "You should really be glad I'm not that vindictive."

"Sounds fun," Ronon said, spinning a large knife in his hand. Rodney was surprised by the rare show of support and wondered if his teammate was trying to protect Rodney from physical retribution by the purple Marines.

"I would be happy to act as mediator to help all parties air their grievances and agree on restitutions." Teyla sounded serene even with bantos rods held menacingly in each hand.

"Well, men," John slouched where he stood before saying to the Marines in question, "I will take care to assign you special duties where purple skin won't interfere. Sewage inspection is always nice this time of year. The damp might be good for your skin." Then he stood up straighter and his voice changed to command. "I am ordering you to take no further action against the biologist you accuse of turning you purple. Is that understood?"

They produced a sorry medley of "Yes, sir."

"Good, then would you prefer we follow McKay's, Ronon's, or Teyla's ideas on how to settle this with the science staff?"

The team all looked to their presumed leader, the one who had commented first and last.

"McKay's first idea, sir."

"Fine. All of you report to the infirmary for a post-incident checkup. Dismissed."

They left, and John turned to Rodney. "You'll find someone to fix the showers?"

"Yeah, if only to forestall an invasion by the Pegasus version of one-eyed, one-horned flying purple-people-eaters."

Sheppard smiled and bumped his shoulder as he left.

Rodney put in a radio call to physical systems and biology, then turned to Teyla and Ronon who were discussing their next match. The others using the gym had gone back to their workout and didn't give any sign of listening. "Hey, Teyla?"

"Yes, Dr. McKay?"

"Uh, this isn't anything official. But if there's some way you could check in with this biologist, Sandy whatever, I'd like to know if he's happy leaving things as they are and calling it done. But if there's any bigger issue, something that should have gone to mediation or restorations or whatever, maybe you could let me know?"

"Would you like me to facilitate this conversation so you could speak with Sandy directly?"

Rodney shook his head hard. "I'm really bad at this stuff, and there's all these sexual harassment issues. Like the training I mentioned. But you're not his boss. You’re the sort of person who sees stuff like this and checks on people afterward, right? He'll know you're on my Gate team and could bring concerns to me informally. I really think that's best right now, especially with the Carson and Woolsey situation."

Teyla shifted both of her bantos rods to one hand and reached the other out to clasp Rodney's shoulder. "I will do this for you, and because someone should talk with Sandy." When Rodney let out a sigh of relief, Teyla continued, "I hope you realize you could also speak with me anytime. I am the sort of person who likes to check on people after difficult incidents, as you say."

"Um, thanks. But I'm good for now."

Teyla only smiled and said, "Then perhaps you will invite Carson to our next movie night? As soon as he's back from Earth?"

"Oh, sure. We thought Torren might like to see WALL-E. It's a movie with robots and people who move around in little carts."

"I'm sure we will all find it most enlightening."

Ronon only grunted at that.

#

Later that afternoon when Lorne showed up at John's office, he closed the door before saying, "I hear we have purple Marines assigned to sewer duty, sir."

"Better than sending them off world." John gestured for Lorne to sit down.

"Is that what you want your stint as head of the expedition to be remembered for?"

Slouching back in his chair, John said, "Better than fighting the Wraith again."

"There's nothing like a common enemy to unite all factions, sir."

John rubbed at the back of his neck where the muscles were already tightening. "That doesn't sound ominous at all. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"You know SGC and the IOA are going to send Woolsey back with a slap on the wrist."

"I won't know anything until they open the Gate again." At Lorne's raised eyebrow John added, "Although it seems likely they'll send back both Woolsey and Beckett at that point. If you have a suggestion, just spill it."

"Suggestions are an excellent idea, sir." Lorne sat up straight looking even more eager and spit shined than usual, and John knew they both needed to play their parts.

"Suggestions on what?" John sat forward to meet Lorne's gaze.

"Whatever you as expedition leader say is most important and most needs input from every member of our community."

"Like taking care of Atlantis?"

"I think that fits the image you want to create." Lorne tapped some note into his tablet.

"You're planning another speech for me to deliver, aren't you?"

#

John delivered the speech in the mess hall. He stood up on a chair at dinner hour and the room went silent without a whistle or shout, just as Lorne had predicted.

"Hi everyone, hope you're enjoying Tortellini Tonight." There was scattered laughter. Lorne wasn't much of a comedy writer and John wasn't a comedian. "I won't take up too much of your time. As you know, I've had a brief addition to my responsibilities. While I'm usually the commanding officer of the military, in charge of protecting Atlantis, at least for now, I'm your expedition leader. I realized that job means taking care of Atlantis and everyone here, and the only way to do that is to find out who and what needs taking care of."

There were nods and whispers around the room. No one had thrown any food yet, so John counted that as a warm reception. "Those of you who were here the first year know we had to replace some windows after a certain—unsuccessful—Wraith invasion." Lorne had insisted both the first year and that invasion needed to be mentioned. "In particular, there's a whole wall of clear windows facing one side of the balcony outside this mess hall. The science staff have informed me that the not-quite-glass those windows are made of works as well as a whiteboard for writing up notes, and they've provided appropriate markers on strings so that everyone can write their suggestions for best taking care of Atlantis and everyone here. The markers will withstand rain and weather, and can only be removed with a special cleaning solution. I'm hoping everyone, whether military, scientist, Athosian, Earthling, or whatever groups need representing, will take the time to share your best ideas."

Now people were definitely nodding, and it was time to let them get back to eating. "Whether I'm still your expedition leader or not by the time of the Halloween Party, I'll try to get back to you on at least one project we can start in response to those suggestions."

John stepped down from his chair to sit at the table he shared with his team. There was polite applause. Lorne nodded at him from across the room.

Teyla said, "Your idea seems well received."

"They'll probably wreck all the pens we put out," Rodney complained around a mouthful of pasta.

Ronon grunted around his mouthful.

John said, "I hate giving speeches."

#

Carson had been back all day, and Rodney hadn't been allowed any time alone with him. He'd tried to be patient and reasonable. When that failed, he'd buried himself in work. By close to midnight, he decided it must be his turn to rescue his partner from working all night. But he'd taken time to clean himself up the way Carson liked, and to put on a strap and plug combination to steady his own anticipation.

By the time Rodney determined Carson wasn't trapped in a meeting, the medical lab, or with a patient, his mind was racing with ways to revenge himself on Woolsey, the IOA, and SGC for taking Carson away in the first place. He didn't wait for Carson to answer his knock before barging in to the head of medicine's office. "Stop me before I do something terrible to Woolsey that you might regret."

Carson, who had been hunched over the Ancient console at his desk, sat up slowly and said, "What has he done now?"

"I don't know. I can't believe they sent him back. I'm still so mad for what he did to you that I want to ruin his credit rating, frame him for hideous crimes on Earth, and set all the plumbing and doors on Atlantis to mistreat him."

"I appreciate your restraint in consulting me first." Carson looked so tired. The muscles in his face barely moved as he spoke.

"It was a near thing, but I was already on my way here to rescue you from work."

Carson managed a small smile. "I have a bit more to finish, but I could work from my quarters if you want."

Rodney pushed into Carson's space and tried to sound seductive as he said, "Not exactly what I want."

Carson sighed and rested a hand on Rodney's thigh. Since Rodney was standing and Carson was seated, the doctor's head when he leaned close rested against Rodney's middle. "I didn't mean to neglect you."

Rodney didn't like the tone, far too close to resignation or self-doubt. "That does it, stand up. We are not having this conversation here."

After obligingly shutting down his work, Carson walked quietly back to his room with Rodney. Once inside, he went to start up the Ancient console between the door and their bed, a console he rarely used.

"What's so urgent, anyway?" Rodney asked, sitting very close to his partner on the bed.

"I've been asked to supply all of my research into the cloning process used to create me and detailing differences between myself and the original Carson Beckett."

"I thought you were genetically identical. And what business is it of theirs anyway?"

"Our DNA sequences are identical. But there are differences in gene expression, telomeres, and metagenomics. And my gut biome, hormone levels, and cell degeneration were different when I arrived here from any readings based on my original version."

"Will this tell them anything about your new gift involving touch and healing?"

"I don't think so. I still don't have enough data to pursue that research, so what I'm giving them is insignificant to that."

"But not insignificant to you. Would you give them this kind of information about a patient in your care?"

When Carson's arms crossed tightly against his ribs, Rodney knew the answer was "no." It took half a minute before Carson said, "I'd keep control of the data as head of medicine here under doctor-patient confidentiality. But there's no one above me here to take responsibility, and anyway, I'm a clone. I only have the rights they give me."

"No," Rodney said sharply. "Now you're making me want to hack the whole IOA and whoever at SGC went along with this into the ground. You are a person. They accepted the Asgard and O'Neill's mini-me as people with rights, and I won't let them push you around. You are mine, and you're worth more than Woolsey and all the rest of them. Now tell me who the main trouble-makers were."

Carson shook his head. "I will not. Besides, most of the people who couldn't stand me were the same ones that couldn't stand Woolsey. I'm beginning to think our entire command staff is here because they don't want us on Earth."

"You're just figuring that out?" Rodney wrapped his arm around Carson, pulling him closer even as the man tried to keep working. "The jokes on them, we got Atlantis and aren't giving her up." When Carson ignored Rodney's attempts to cuddle or stroke Carson's side or thigh flirtatiously, Rodney's brain switched back to problem solving mode. "Who's your official doctor or secret keeper or whatever?"

"Biro has access to all my confidential files, but she's technically my subordinate. Dr. Lam is listed as my immediate superior if any questions arise involving malpractice or around me diagnosing or treating myself."

Rodney snapped his fingers and patted Carson's knee. "What if you gave the information they want solely to Dr. Lam and said it was up to her to determine confidentiality?"

"That puts her in an awkward position." Carson was sorting, copying, and bundling files, as if nearly finished with his task.

"As awkward as the one you were in with Woolsey?" When Carson didn't reply, Rodney said, "What he did was wrong, flat out unforgivable in my book. I'm worried it's still affecting your decision making. The Carson I know wouldn't give up on anyone's privacy this way. I'd like to think not even his own. And you know if I asked Dr. Lam she'd agree. Does she even know you're giving them all this? Have you forgotten that she can be almost as scary as me when she chooses?"

Carson's hands on the console slowed and stilled, like a wind-up toy that was winding down. "You may be right."

"Of course, I'm right. I'm always right."

Carson glared at Rodney but neither argued nor laughed. "How about I put this on hold until tomorrow and show you a present I brought back." Putting his words into action, he shut down the console.

"Present? Is it chocolate?" Rodney bounced happily on the bed, which reminded him of the strap he wore and the plug in his ass.

"You'll get chocolate for Halloween. This is something you may, or may not, like better?"

"It's a sex toy, isn't it?" Rodney's body was reacting quickly to Carson's change in tone.

"Take off your shirt."

Rodney didn't need to be told twice. This was more like the Carson he was used to. Then Carson stood before him with a thin swinging metal chain. At each end, the chain had rubber coated metal clamps with tiny screws to tighten them. "Are those nipple clamps?"

"Have you tried them before?"

"No. I'm not sure I want to?" Rodney went still and his stomach tightened.

"Give me a color."

"Yellow."

"Fair enough. Let me show you on my hand. I don't want to hurt you, at least not much. These are very gentle, padded clamps. At their loosest setting, I can clamp the tip of my pinky without pain." Carson demonstrated and held his pinky out for examination with the chain dangling.

"I guess that wouldn't hurt, just tug on my nipple." Rodney ran his own fingers around the clamp and Carson's pinky. Seeing it—touching it—was slightly erotic. Rodney had almost forgotten again about the strap he wore. Now he felt his cock stir against the textured inner surface. "Okay, let's try it."

"I see." Carson ran a hand down to stroke Rodney's crotch. "I'd rather start with your nipples hard and flushed."

When Carson pressed, Rodney fell back willingly onto the bed. The weight of his partner above him, immediately licking and sucking at the nearest nipple, was more than a turn on. It felt like Carson was finally home.

It didn't take long before Carson had Rodney bucking and writhing. Only then did Carson put the first nipple clamp in place.

The pressure hurt at first, but when Carson ran his tongue around the newly clamped nipple, Rodney felt it twice as strongly as before. The thrill went right to his cock.

"Green?" Carson asked.

"So green."

It took only a minute for Carson to tease the other nipple into a tight peak and clamp it as well. That one didn't even register as pain to Rodney, he was so eager for Carson's tongue to return. Not only was the sensation on that nipple increased but the chain connecting the two meant both nipples received extra, unpredictable stimulations as well.

"Now stand up," Carson said, his voice already lower.

Smelling his partner's arousal, Rodney stood and shivered as the cold chain slithered against his chest, tugging at two bundles of nerves that were sensitive to begin with.

"I thought you'd react well to that. Now I can't decide whether to strip off your pants or add a shirt to see how you feel with clothing over those clamps." As he spoke, Carson came forward and ran his finger along the chain. Rodney couldn't believe how strongly he was reacting to what was barely a touch on a toy he hadn't even been sure about trying. He whimpered as Carson said, "If we put your furry sweatshirt over the clamps, no one would be able to tell you were wearing them. I could take you for a walk around Atlantis with every move smoothing fur over your skin, and think how that fur would tug and push at these clamps and this dangling metal chain."

Carson flicked the chain so it swung, then he bent to lick each nipple just long enough to make them ache with sensation and then startle when exposed to cool air afterward. "Can you imagine if we tried that with the beads you made inside you?"

Rodney's breath hitched as Carson ran a hand lightly over his ass.

"How far do you think you could walk like that? Let's practice with just the clamps. Try walking across the room and back."

The walk wouldn't have been that intense if Carson hadn't been staring as if he was imagining the beads inside and the fur rubbing on top. The force of his gaze made Rodney imagine it too, and suddenly his sense of touch was ramped up high and he was breathing hard.

It took only a few words from Carson to ground him back in reality. "Don't worry, I would never leave your side. Never let you lose control in a way you didn't want to. Now come here so I can take your pants off."

Rodney's skin was so stimulated and his cock so hard that even the gentle removal of his pants had him clasping his ass and trying to thrust against open air.

"You are such an amazing lover, so reactive," Carson whispered as he stood and pressed lightly against Rodney's nearly naked body. His clothes felt scratchy against Rodney's skin and his shirt snagged on the nipple clamps and chain a bit too much, but Rodney was desperate for anything he could get at that point. "Easy, love. I want you to undress me now. And I want you to take your time."

Rodney's fingers trembled as he tried to unbutton Carson's shirt while they were still pressed together. He was so turned on he could feel his cock leaking, wanting to rut against Carson's hip. But he wanted to make it good for Carson, show him how much he mattered.

Unable to find words, Rodney used his mouth in other ways. He sucked at the mark he maintained by Carson's neck, just above his collarbone. It had faded during their days apart, and Rodney sucked hard, wanting Carson to know their claim went both ways. Their bond flared as well with Rodney's intensity.

Carson whispered, "Yes."

Something in Rodney tingled and seemed to press against his skin from the inside at the simple praise. The clamps on his nipples became sharp points of light as Rodney rode his inner sensations and satisfied himself by sucking a dark mark onto his partner and bond mate.

Then he eased back enough to glide his fingers down to the next button on Carson's shirt. Rodney followed with his mouth, kissing and licking as new skin was exposed. He circled and lapped at Carson's first nipple, when it was finally exposed, for as long as needed to slowly chase down each remaining shirt button. Then he started on the other nipple as he ever so slowly tugged Carson's shirttails from his pants.

By the time he let the shirt drop to the floor, Carson was flushed and breathing hard. Rodney kissed him even more breathless as he unfastened his partner's pants.

Then Rodney sank to his knees, setting off a whole echo chamber of sensations as his plug nudged his prostate, his strap pressed his cock, and both seemed to connect electrically with the clamps and chain still randomly assaulting his nipples. Rodney moaned and then mouthed at Carson's erection through his briefs.

Only when Carson moaned back did Rodney finish the task of undressing Carson by removing his briefs while licking his partner's flushed and erect cock.

"Very good, Rodney." Carson practically panted as he spoke. "Now I need you to lie on your back on the bed."

Reluctantly giving up his oral stimulation, Rodney crawled over to and pulled himself up onto the bed, wagging his ass the whole way. Then he sprawled on his back with his limbs flung wide and his chest pushed high.

Carson slid up his legs, trailing feathery light finger tips along the insides of Rodney's thighs. Rodney jerked as Carson's knee settle firmly against his perineum and the strap, nudging the plug a little deeper inside him. Then Carson leaned down to kiss Rodney wetly, tongue exploring thoroughly as Carson's knee and thigh rocked gently up and down.

All the muscles from Rodney's groin to his deltoids flexed in response. His pecs made the nipple clamps shift, and Rodney couldn't help thrusting up with his cock.

"Is that the way you want it?" Carson asked, releasing his mouth.

"No," Rodney managed to gasp.

"I bet your nipples are sore now. We should take those nipple clamps off and see what they feel like without them."

Rodney had no idea. He practically screamed when the first clamp came off. He thrust up mindlessly as blood rushed back where it hadn't been for a while.

Then Carson was licking kitten soft at the sore nub, and Rodney collapsed into mindless pleasure. Each little lick seemed to cover Rodney's entire body. He panted and groaned but didn't try to move.

When Carson released the second clamp, Rodney whined deep in his throat but didn't move at all. He knew Carson would lick the second nipple in turn. When he did, Rodney felt complete. He didn't care what came next, because he was full up on sensation. All of his skin hummed in time with Carson's licks, including his cock, which was tight and secure inside his strap. The plug in his ass felt like it was vibrating along, even though he knew it wasn't the vibrating kind.

The licking around his nipples seemed to never end. Both felt as if they were being licked at the same time, even as Carson shifted to his neck, renewing his mark. Then Carson's head moved down, licking at ribs, and finally Rodney's bellybutton.

"Don't come yet," Carson said as he removed Rodney's strap and licked—small flashes of a quick tongue—all around and down Rodney's cock. It was exquisite and overwhelming. Rodney was in a place where he'd never come until Carson wanted him to.

When Carson sucked one ball into his mouth, the pressure was amazing. Rodney was consumed in the moist warmth as if every part of him was held in Carson's mouth, caressed by Carson's tongue. He repeated it on the other side, and Rodney felt his body shaking as if it belonged to someone else.

"Easy love. I want to come inside you. Try to come at the same time for me."

Rodney's body kept shaking as Carson removed the plug, added more lube, and pushed inside in one slow dive that pulled Rodney down with him. Rodney heard himself screaming.

When Carson leaned forward, buried deep, and began to lick Rodney's sensitized nipples again, his partner's touch pulsed everywhere, inside and out. Rodney was a touch, a repeating pulse of kinetic energy. At the same time, he was a build-up of potential energy, of electricity.

It barely mattered when Carson's mouth left his nipples. Firm hands grasped his hips. Touch continued. The pressure inside Rodney grew. Shifting him. Filling him. Charging him up.

Then Carson came, pulsing out a moan. Rodney came with him, like one body. Energy pulsed through and away. There was so much sensation inside and out, that Rodney didn't notice Carson's hand on his cock until the last few pulses were rung out of him.

Rodney screamed again when Carson pulled out, even though it didn't hurt or even feel that empty. Carson's hand on his thigh, trying to soothe him only added to the flow of energy and sensation throughout Rodney's body. It was gentle, less electric, but still overwhelming.

"There, there. I'll keep talking so you know where I am, but I need to get a cloth to clean us up." He could hear Carson's footsteps heading to the bathroom. "You're shiny all over, damp and beautiful. Quivering and so sensitive. I bet you feel like you're flying. I bet you'll feel that way all night if you let yourself. Here, I'm back now. I'm going to wash you."

Rodney hadn't noticed the water running or Carson's footsteps returning. The warm cloth washing his groin and ass was a terrible pleasure. If there had been a joule of energy left in him, Rodney would have been hard and panting again. Instead, he quivered inside and out. When Carson folded the cloth to wash Rodney's sweaty face, neck and chest, he brushed a nipple and Rodney whimpered.

"So lovely. I love you so much." Carson's voice was soft, almost talking to himself. Every word seeped in through Rodney's oversensitive skin. Then Carson threw the cloth somewhere and leaned above Rodney's face, eyes so blue Rodney blinked at the intensity. "Roll this way for me, onto the sheets."

Soon they were both dry and comfortable between soft covers. Across all Rodney's surface area that even sheets touched, his skin swarmed with pleasure. As Carson stroked him firmly, along his arm, his side, his stomach, Rodney relaxed. Everything felt amazing. Rodney was right where he should be with Carson beside him. "I've got you. You're so good. You brought me back here, gave me good advice, gave me you. Let me take care of you. Relax. Sleep. Feel good. I always want you to feel good."

#

Only thirty hours after Woolsey and Carson's return, John was half dragged to a team movie night he certainly didn't remember scheduling. Inside their usual movie room, Teyla and Kanaan were busy preparing their specially spiced popcorn at the counter while Torren jumped up and down hugging a bag of miniature candy bars and peanut butter cups. He was singing a song in Athosian, simple enough that he might have made it up, with lyrics that translated as, "Thank you food. You food thank. Food thank you." The lyrics repeated endlessly.

"Trick-or-treat candy?" John asked.

"Carson brought it back from Earth and says I have to share." Rodney was seated in the middle of the sofa he and John usually shared. Carson, who'd never attended a team movie night with them before, sat to Rodney's left.

"Is that why we're having this movie night?"

The stricken look on Rodney's face admitted more guilt than John expected. "Rodneeeey?"

"I promised Teyla, for taking care of the biologist."

"The one behind the purple dye incident?" John asked.

"Allegedly," Teyla supplied.

"What, are you his lawyer?" John asked.

"My services as mediator were declined by both sides. Nonetheless, I spent some time speaking with Sandy, who is a charming and open-minded young man."

"Would he like to discuss gender-reassignment of other options with our medical or mental health staff?" Carson asked, clearly having been brought up to speed on events that occurred while he was away.

Teyla carried a bowl of popcorn to Carson who immediately passed it into Rodney's grabby hands. "He thanked me for asking but said he was not particularly interested in being a woman or even dressing in women's clothes. The scientists checking the Ancient device were evidently joking about experiences they might enjoy if accidentally swapped into a different body temporarily. He said the Marines were 'liars or fools if they weren't curious what it felt like for a woman.'"

"Sounds like something McKay would say." Ronon spoke a bit more freely with only their team around.

"Hardly." Rodney snorted. "I've had enough of Ancient devices affecting my body. I'd rather be pansexual and open to any partner than have to figure out the perils of a whole new body myself. By the way, did you threaten anyone on my behalf? Or Carson's?"

"My threats are my own."

"Really?" John asked. "What did Private Alonzo do to you?"

"Grabbed my hair."

"Before that."

"Asked something stupid."

"About me?"

Ronon shrugged. Teyla handed him a bowl full of popcorn and he went to claim the empty couch. With a pointed look at John, he put his feet up to cover the entire length.

Teyla was settling with her family on the floor pillows they brought from home. They had their own bowl of popcorn and Teyla was saying to Torren, "You may choose two sweets and then pass the bag to someone else."

John usually sat on the couch with Rodney. In the past, it had been a two person couch, but everyone seemed to expect he'd still sit there.

Rodney patted the cushion beside him absently and said to Ronon, "Everyone heard he asked you who the Colonel was sleeping with, and you made him spar until the obvious move was to grab your hair. Anyone who'd been here before our visit to Earth would have known better, so clearly in your own cave man way, you're whipping the newbies into shape. Which I appreciate. At the same time, people were teasing me about wearing a cat costume and falling off a cliff. What's surprising is that no one has teased or threatened me about the very public reveal of my relationship with Carson, and for those who didn't know already, my outing as pansexual. So I'm wondering who you beat up or threatened."

Ronon just snorted and shook his head.

Teyla, who had helped her son count out two candies, hastily passed the bag to Carson. "From speaking with Sandy and others, I believe the recording of Woolsey and Carson's conversation has been widely circulated. Woolsey's actions have placed him in considerable disfavor."

Carson passed the candy bag to Rodney, having selected a mint chocolate patty for himself. "What I believe Teyla is saying is that even people who don't like that I'm gay may appreciate that I was protecting Stackhouse's team and have protected the privacy of many others on this base. The reactions on Earth were much the same. The Canadian representative to the IOA suggested giving all three of us medals for trying to stop Woolsey's abuse of power. Chuck even provided me a recording from what was officially a private meeting. Would you like to hear it?"

As everyone nodded, Carson pulled out his tablet and after a long time shuffling through files they heard a voice that was unmistakably General O'Neill. "Minds way smarter than mine have decided to drop this like a hot potato. From this point forward, we officially don't care who's F-ing who among the Atlantis command staff. They can have an orgy in their off hours so long as it doesn't affect their jobs. No more coerced confessions and no more outing anyone. Geez. As if getting the DoD to take their heads out of everyone's asses wasn't enough."

"Sorry for the rough language," Carson apologized to Teyla.

Teyla nodded. "I am happy to hear this addressed so directly. Perhaps the idea on the suggestion wall for a safe space is not necessary after all?'

Ronon grunted. "Already exists."

John rubbed the back of his head and didn't ask. Even if he was allowed to now, it might be better if some things he didn't officially know. "There was talk of dedicating a room for that in the new community center, but I'm not sure we're ready so soon after this incident with Woolsey and the repeal of 'don't ask don't tell.' I was going to push for the children's center idea first. Besides Torren, there seem to be a lot of kids on Atlantis now."

"Eleven, with two more on the way." Teyla supplied while surreptitiously cleaning Torren's hand with a cloth napkin. "Much as I support the idea for a shared play and education space for children, I would not want it at the expense of a safe space for those who are bullied or harassed for who they are or who they love."

"It's not a trade-off, more a matter of what we can best prepare now." John smiled and wished he'd found a better way to present this idea. "I was kind of hoping you'd take charge of the children's center project."

"I would be honored," Teyla said. "Does this mean Atlantis will welcome more families with children into the new residences being celebrated tomorrow night?"

"We definitely need more Pegasus natives if we're going to be respected in this galaxy and approach self-sufficiency on Atlantis." John ate a couple pieces of popcorn and collected his thoughts before continuing. "We need locals on Gate teams and advising on food and agriculture. But we can't announce that yet either. Even Woolsey knows we're headed that direction. The trick is never to ask him directly."

"I approved a couple of new hires on Earth, but I'd like to train a group of local health ambassadors as well," Carson said. "When I was traveling between planets to help with the Hoffan plague, I realized how much faster populations exchanged health problems than health care solutions. What I learned from those who assisted me was as much use in treating others as what I brought from Earth or Atlantis."

"There are many Athosians who would join us on Atlantis if multiple families could come at once. We need a strong enough community to keep our traditions alive. At the same time, many of those families include a spouse or child from another planet. The knowledge and trade benefits could be substantial," Teyla said. "But perhaps for now, we should start our movie?"

John dimmed the lights and locked the door. Carson stretched his arm around Rodney's shoulders. Rodney tried to rest a hand on John's knee, but John pushed it aside. Rodney handed John the popcorn bowl instead. As Rodney leaned farther and farther into Carson's side, he kept reaching for popcorn one or two kernels at a time. His buttery fingers frequently brushed against John's, but that didn't seem like a big deal.

John tried to enjoy the unique flavor of the movie night popcorn, a blend of Earth and Athosian spices with butter. He tried to keep his eyes on the movie, but he couldn't help seeing how Teyla's family curled up together and how comfortable Rodney and Carson looked.

He must have dozed off, because John found himself slumped against Rodney's shoulder. John jerked upright to his former position, reflexively keeping the bowl in his lap from spilling.

As he looked around the room again, he saw Torren was asleep, sprawled across both his parents. Teyla was petting her son's hair. Her other hand held Kanaan's where it rested on her shoulder.

Rodney made an obvious motion with his head encouraging John to relax onto him again.

John twitched his head no then saw Ronon smirking at them.

Somehow Ronon kicked out from his couch to force both of John's feet sideways and up onto his own couch. The move basically toppled John into Rodney's lap, and John couldn't use his hands to resist, because they were busy keeping the popcorn bowl upright.

After a brief startle, Rodney recovered faster than John did. He rested his right arm on John's shoulder and continued to feed himself popcorn one or two kernels at a time. With his clean left hand, Rodney unabashedly stroked John hair where it rested on Rodney's thigh.

Teyla and Kanaan gave no sign of noticing, although John was sure they had. He was also sure his whole team thought he was being stupid, whatever they believed his relationship with Rodney, and possibly Carson, might be. As team leader, John had realized years before that if the rest of his team all agreed on something, they were probably right. He checked that the door was as secure as his ATA gene and bond with Atlantis could make it, then he let himself relax and rest with his head in Rodney's lap.

#

At the start of the Halloween Party, John and Ronon converged on a small table at one side of the courtyard that held spiced Athosian crackers called nassanits. They looked like thick pretzels shaped into curves or curls. Both John and Ronon agreed these were better than the potato chips and donut holes offered nearby. Their table also held a selection of fruits that contrasted nicely with the nassanits and made beverages unnecessary. The fact that it was a convenient spot from which to watch everyone else could be considered a bonus.

Or it could be that Teyla had put their favorite snacks near the courtyard entrance to her new quarters on purpose, and that she'd chosen her apartment for the excellent view of the courtyard. She'd spearheaded the combining of the Halloween Party with a sort of housewarming for the newly opened apartments on the southeast pier. The inclusion of Athosian snack foods might be an attempt to show the space was meant for Pegasus native too, especially the Athosians Teyla had encouraged to attend the party. John was glad his work as military commander was more straight forward than most of Teyla's planning.

Carson came through the arch leading into the courtyard alone. The arch displayed an Ancient version of mosaic with tan stone inset with red, orange, and gold crystals. Planters on each side offered bench seating and had been filled with hearty local plants. There was plenty of room for at least fifty people to stand outside, and so far, no one had moved into the adjacent rooms opened up for the occasion. The doctor took only a moment to scan the courtyard before he made a point of seeking out Woolsey, who was standing near the center. "Good evening, Woolsey. Nice costume."

From the Scot's awful poker face, it was clear he had no idea who Woolsey was supposed to be in his white flight suit with the rainbow armband and space helmet sporting red zigzags. John held up a hand to signal Ronon to stay back, just as he would in the field, and drifted closer just in case.

"What's up, Doc?" Woolsey replied. "I like your sense of humor, and that's an impressive Bugs Bunny costume. Did you pick that up during our recent visit to Earth?"

"A friend was kind enough to find it for me." Carson produced a snack size Twix from pockets hidden beneath the fur of what was a truly impressive Bugs Bunny costume. "I also have candy for those who come up with clever lines or appreciate the costume."

Woolsey took the candy but held it by one end of the wrapper as if he certainly wasn't going to eat it. John thought he should rescue the two before their exchange became too stilted. It could also count as putting in his own public display of good will while Carson was there as a buffer, without Rodney. As he approached, John wondered if Carson's costume was partially chosen to console Rodney about the cat costume he'd been teased for after John gave it to him. He still felt a little bad about how that had played out.

"Hey, Buck Rogers," John said to Woolsey in his best laid back surfer voice, since he was wearing board shorts and a short sleeve rash guard. "Everything groovy five hundred years in the future?"

"You know me, I do my best to keep cool."

"Oh, Buck Rogers. I think I've heard of that," Carson said.

"Got any peanut butter cups?" John asked, knowing from the Halloween candy preview the night before that Carson did.

"Say the magic words."

"No, no." John held up his hands in mock horror. "Don't make me say it."

Ronon came up behind him and said in the flattest voice possible, "What's up, Doc?"

Carson gave him the Snickers he knew Ronon liked and gave John a Reese's saying, "I wouldn't want to upset your delicate sensibilities."

Just then, a hush fell over the courtyard as Rodney stomped through the archway and struck a pose, hands on hips and feet planted wide. He was wearing the cat kigurumi that he'd had to tell people was his Halloween costume. Around his waist was a mesh belt with two water bottles, a gun, and a knife, just like he'd worn on the day he fell from a cliff. Across his chest, like a bandolier, he wore a leather strap with a life signs detector, Ancient scanner, tablet, scientific calculator, and even a compass attached. He sported a pirate eye patch over one eye and a pseudo-Viking helmet with horns that had clearly been borrowed from some other Halloween costume. On the side of his chest not covered by the bandolier was an oversized medal on a red, white, and blue ribbon that read "puppy wrecker." That was an obvious tease about cats and US military medals, but might also be a reclaiming from when Rodney was called "planet wrecker" after the Doranda incident. On his feet were black leather boots more pretentious than what Traveler captains tended to wear. Not very hidden in his fluffy cat tail were spikes and knives, that half the base would see as a tribute to the blades stashed in Ronon's dreads. And the final touch were truly fearsome metal claws that took John a moment to identify as props from a Wolverine costume.

Rodney widened his arms in one of his classic exasperated gestures and said to the courtyard at large, "All of you high bias, low IQ, cat kickers better remember this genius warrior guard cat knows where you keep your kibbles and bits." He paused as most everyone just stared then started pointing at random individual. "Don't just stand there gaping. Back to what you were doing."

As some people chuckled and others picked up conversations where they'd left off, Rodney tromped up to Carson and said, "Trick-or-treat, you promised me bloody prey to eat."

"You look so impressive," Carson said. If everyone hadn't already known they were together, John thought the look on Carson face as his eyes scanned up and down Rodney's eclectically attired body would have given them away. From a different pocket than the regular Halloween candy, Carson produced a horror movie version of a chocolate Easter bunny.

"My precious," Rodney said in a decent Gollum impersonation. He reached out with a long-clawed hand then stopped himself and said, "It is a human's duty to unwrap food for cats." Rodney watched attentively as Carson unwrapped the dark chocolate bunny that was holding its own severed ear in its paws. Where the ear would have been there was yellow candy puss and a ridiculous splattering of red frosting or red-colored white chocolate. A green gummy worm crawled out of an empty eye socket and Carson used that hole to hook the unwrapped bunny onto one of Rodney's long metal claws.

"Where did you find that?" John couldn't help but ask.

"Dr. Lam had mail ordered a dozen of these from a shop in Oregon that makes each one individually. When she realized I'd given her chocolates originally meant for Rodney, she said I'd better bring him a zombie bunny before he sought retribution." Carson smiled serenely. "She is a very smart woman."

"Agreed," Rodney said as he bit off a bloody bunny tail, leaving chocolate and red streaks at the corner of his mouth.

"If you'll excuse me," Woolsey said, "I think I need something to drink."

As soon as he was out of earshot Rodney said, "Diplomacy done. Now we can party."

"Not quite," John said. "Is Teyla here yet?"

Across the room, they all spotted Teyla and Kanaan, in their usual attire, accompanied by Torren who wore socks on his hands and head, but none on his feet, which were bare.

"Is he supposed to be a dog?" Rodney asked.

"Novosh," Ronon said, as if that explained anything.

"Okay," John rubbed his hands together. "That means it's announcement time."

He stepped up to the makeshift DJ platform and had Cadman fade the music. "Hi, everyone. I'm sure you've all seen the over one-hundred suggestions written up on the window wall near the mess. I'm here tonight to report back on just one to start with. I'm sure some of you think my costume is the same as last year, and I'm here as a surfer. But no, I'm here tonight as your friendly neighborhood swim instructor. That's because some of you asked about opening a children's center, not just for the dozen or so kids on Atlantis now, but for those of you starting families on Atlantis or for those who might move into all these new residential units we're christening tonight." John waved to the apartments around and above him. "In addition to spearheading the housewarming celebration here and at the rec center next door, the woman brave enough to be become the first mom on Atlantis has also stepped up to organize a new children's center just a couple building down the pier. Teyla?"

There was applause as Teyla took the stage holding the sock bedecked Torren on her hip. "Yes, we have chosen a site for a new children's center and would be happy to hear from any of you with suggestions or skills you'd like to share. As you can see from my costume," Teyla let her words hang as if anyone would challenge her on the fact that she was wearing exactly what she might on any other day, "I will be the bantos teacher at the children's center." She patted her bantos rods, that admittedly, she wouldn't usually wear to a party. "It is my hope that a children's center will be a source of joy and inspiration for our entire community, not only those with children of their own. I look forward to working with you all. Thank you."

"And that conclude this evening's announcements." John started to follow Teyla off.

Ronon grunted from the far side of the DJ platform.

"Oh, and Ronon will be teaching Satedan." The audience laughed, as they were meant to, even though Ronon truly had offered to teach both the Satedan language and culture to anyone interested in learning.

As the music started up and the room grew loud again, their team reformed around Rodney and Carson, who had ended up beside Kanaan anyway. Rodney's chocolate bunny hung even more mutilated than before from one metal claw, but John knew at once that something was wrong. Rodney had stopped eating and had the glassy look that either meant bad senses or bad memories. John pushed in close on the side Carson wasn't covering and said, "What's new, pussycat?"

Rodney gave a fairly convincing cat snarl before saying, "Nothing, and don't call me that."

John shifted so his arm brushed against Rodney's as if by accident again. "You look like you're about to threaten my water supply. Again."

When Rodney didn't answer, Carson said, "We were both very busy and perhaps weren't around when you were discussing plans for the children's center."

Before he could say something incredulous, Teyla cut John off saying, "We would greatly appreciate any ideas or help you care to offer."

"No. People wouldn't want me around their kids," Rodney said it like an excuse, but his team heard it as the complaint it was.

Teyla asked Torren, "Did you like watching the robot movie with Rodney last night?"

"Pet fur?" Torren asked, holding up a sock clad hand.

Teyla looked to Rodney who after a moment realized he was meant to answer. He glanced at the proffered sock, evidently deciding it was clean and harmless enough and said, "Okay, you may pet this usually ferocious king of the jungle."

Torren began to pet Rodney's arm after the word "okay."

"Please tell me your idea?" Teyla asked while smiling serenely at Rodney.

"Well, I was listening to Torren sing about food using just three notes, what we call c, d, and e. I thought rather than giving kids a xylophone or glockenspiel, both of which assume certain musical scales that vary from culture to culture even on Earth, I could fabricate separate resonator bars and sound boxes for whatever notes the kids actually sang. Then they could use the ones they wanted, maybe even learn to match them by pitch." He paused and blinked at Teyla.

"You are offering to make these instruments and teach their use based on what you heard my son sing last night?"

"Yes?" Rodney looked adorably baffled and not at all like the tough predator he was dressed to be that night.

"Thank you. I accept your kind offer on behalf of our new children's center." Teyla placed her hands near Rodney's shoulders and leaned her head forward until Rodney met her in the Athosian forehead touch. As she stood back, Teyla said, "We never meant to leave you out of the discussion. I have observed many times over the years that you have unexpected gifts and insights, even when you may not realize your own value."

"Yeah, well, you may not want small eyes to see how I'm going to tear into this already mangled chocolate bunny."

Teyla raised one eyebrow and did not mention that Athosian children were used to seeing animals hunted, butchered, and prepared for the next meal.

#

They'd asked John to meet them in the observatory at the top of tower twenty-two whenever he was ready to leave the party. That didn't mean Rodney assumed the Colonel would show up. He hadn't sought to spend time alone with Carson or Rodney, or with just the three of them together, since Carson had returned from Earth. The way he'd given in and dozed against Rodney at movie night had required a significant intervention on Ronon's part. It was somewhat disconcerting how easily Ronon got away with it, how well it showed he understood John and John's relationships. But it was a relief knowing none of them had to hide anything in front of their team.

After several minutes of standing and staring out through the clear dome-shaped ceiling, Carson asked, "What would you like?"

Rodney looked at Carson, who had changed into his soft but respectable looking lounging clothes. They were similar to sweats but made with a smooth synthetic rather than the stretchy knit Rodney was used to. The cloth was navy blue and brought out the blue in Carson's eyes despite the dimness of the moonlight.

Looking down at the elaborate costume he still wore, Rodney said, "I don't want to be a genius warrior guard cat anymore."

"Which parts of that are you ready to give up?"

It took Rodney more than a minute to settle his thoughts enough to know. "Everything above the fur?"

"You want me to strip you of your weaponry and defenses?" Carson smirked as he said it, but that was exactly what Rodney wanted.

"Yes, you do it."

Carson began by removing the Wolverine claws. Then he kissed the soft tip of each exposed finger, even the thumbs and pinkies that hadn't sported claws earlier.

He removed Rodney's Viking helmet and then scratched around Rodney's ears, first over, and then more gently under, his furry cat hood.

Knowing the delicacy of the equipment on the bandolier, Carson unstrapped it carefully and set it aside by a wall near some water and a blanket that Carson had brought. He was almost as careful with the belt that held a knife and gun, although they both knew the gun wasn't loaded and the knife was tied into its sheath. Then Carson rubbed Rodney's shoulders before unpinning the "puppy wrecker" medal and stroking all the fur smooth along Rodney's chest, back, and arms.

The spikes and knives attached to Rodney's tail were all plastic costume weapons, but Carson unpinned or untied each carefully to preserve the tail, which he also petted smooth. Rodney could have sworn he felt the petting even though it was only a costume tail.

Then Carson said, "I rather like the boots."

"I can keep them on if you want." Rodney found the tall leather boots with their multiple shiny buckles impressive, although they didn't fit him particularly well and he would have preferred to see them on someone else, maybe Teyla or Ronon.

"No, I'll enjoy taking them off of you, but remember I'm not seriously flirting since we've asked John to meet us here."

"Honestly, I feel less slutty than almost ever."

"Why's that?" Carson asked as he knelt down to unbuckle Rodney's left boot.

The boots were ten times as sexy with Carson on his knees undoing the buckles. "Maybe I'm wrong. You look pretty hot doing that."

"Thanks," Carson chuckled. "But tell me the rest."

"I don't know. Sometimes costumes are fun, but tonight felt more like getting revenge on people who made fun of me. I wanted to do it and felt at least partly successful, but it wasn't fun. I don't want to do that to my cat kigurumi again."

At that point John cleared his throat from the doorway. "Am I interrupting something here?" He was still dressed in his surfer garb and carried a small mesh beach bag full of candy, as if he'd been trick-or-treating.

"I'm just helping Rodney reclaim his true catty self." He removed the left boot, stroked Rodney's calf, and moved on to the right.

"Meee-ow," Rodney teased. To John he said, "I like it better the way you originally gave it to me."

"Sorry it caused you embarrassment that night." John came inside, and Rodney felt the door lock emphatically behind him.

"I said I like it." Rodney petted the fur on his sternum. "No need to apologize for other people being stupid. You'll have enough to do apologizing for yourself when you act like an idiot. Like avoiding us for three days."

"I saw you last night."

"With the team!" Rodney huffed as Carson removed the final boot but stayed on the floor, gripping Rodney's thigh.

John shrugged and held out his little bag of candy, "Would chocolate help?"

"For once in my life, I think I might have had enough for one night."

Both John and Carson laughed, and the bond between all three of them flared pleasantly for a moment. Pushing himself up from the floor Carson grabbed the blanket he'd brought and a water bottle for each of them. "Let's lay down and look at the stars."

"And pet the cat," Rodney added, laying down in the center as soon as the blanket was flat. They laughed again. It felt good.

Later, when John was petting with his hand between the fur of Rodney's costume and the lesser fur on his chest, Rodney asked, "Do you really wear that for surfing and swimming?"

"I only wear a rash guard if I'm doing a lot of surfing or if I'm already sunburned. But I wasn't going bare chested to the party, and I probably won't while teaching kids either." John was letting Rodney pet the rashguard, which had a skin-like but almost slippery texture and clung pretty tightly to John's chest.

"You'll be a good teacher," Rodney spoke without really thinking.

"So will you." John met Rodney's eyes, strangely serious as he said it. Rodney didn't remember how he'd ended up on his side facing John with Carson rubbing his back, but it felt great to be with both of them even if he could only see John. "I knew you played piano as a kid, but I thought you avoided anything to do with music now."

With a sigh, Rodney closed his eyes, remembering painful words from the piano teacher who'd convinced him to abandon the instrument. "Music was my escape before I had access to a science lab or computer. If I ever had a kid, I'd at least offer them the chance to play an instrument."

"Do you want kids?" Carson asked from behind him.

Rodney opened his eyes but wasn't sure what to say. With Jennifer he'd thought he did but now... "In the abstract, yes, but I always imagined someone else mostly raising them. I think teaching music might be enough, or I might decide I hate even that. I'm not really a people person."

Carson rubbed his back harder, a light massage with bonus fur. "You might surprise yourself. You've been very good to me."

"And me," John said, petting between his front buttons. "At least sometimes." John smiled wide, and he was dazzling even as he meant to look goofy.

"Ha, ha," Rodney spoke the words without rancor but without any pretense of laughter either. Then he asked John, "What about you? You're great with kids."

"Uh, you remember I don't want to have sex, at all, with anyone?"

Rodney moved his hand to rub the back of John's neck, as he'd seen the man do for himself after an awkward turn in conversation. "You remember we live in an Ancient city with machines that can build spare sex organs and who knows what else, not to mention, there have been sperm donors, egg donors, and surrogate mothers on Earth for decades?"

"Could I mention adoption? There are still plenty of orphans in Pegasus and elsewhere," Carson put in.

"Don't you want him to pass on his ATA gene or whatever else?" Rodney swept his hand in a vague figure eight that barely grazed John's chest.

"Like anyone would want me to raise a kid." John tried to pass it off casually, but Rodney could feel the tension under his light touch and hear it in the slight scratchiness of John's voice.

He shifted back to stroking John's neck and saw him calm even as Rodney said, "Seriously, you are such an idiot. There are women all over Pegasus and probably plenty in the SGC who would beg for your sperm to share a child with you."

"Stop. Ick." John's nose wrinkled and he waved Rodney's hand away, but just for a moment. Then he stretched his neck unmistakably. "Right now, I'm totally dedicated to making Atlantis more secure, sustainable, and all around a better place to live. If I teach a few kids swimming or whatever along the way, that's more than enough for me." Even as he relaxed into Rodney's hand on his neck, John asked, "How do I always end up in these conversations with you?"

"Perhaps intimate touch makes intimate conversation easier," Carson suggested.

"Maybe," John conceded, petting along the line of Rodney's buttons. "That reminds me of an idea I had, like the old sock on the door, but something no one else would notice."

"Sock on the door?" Carson asked.

"People do that in college to warn a roommate away when they're getting laid."

Rodney huffed. "Your college experience was very different from mine."

John opened his eyes wide and looked at Rodney as if that had been more than obvious, which it probably had been. "Remember, I was the one getting kicked out of my own room. Anyway, Atlantis seems willing to signal me using any Ancient device." John remembered the pulse of water and then the shutting off of the shower in Carson's room. "But it would be easier for Atlantis to know what to tell me if you could turn on an Ancient device, like the nightlight Rodney brought by, whenever you're doing stuff I shouldn't interrupt."

"That is a devious use for a nightlight you won't even be able to see. I like it." Rodney traced John's pointy ear and then scratched the hair behind it.

With one hand still on Rodney's back, Carson reached the other out to John's shoulder. "You realize we'd never want to exclude you. We would turn on the nightlight to let you know what we were doing, but you would always be welcome to interrupt or be with us in any capacity you wanted. We would be doing this as a sign of trust and intimacy toward you. Do you understand?"

"I'm trying." John shifted his right wrist so he could remove the wristband that covered his faded mark. "Do this for me?"

"Gladly," Carson said. He sat leaning over Rodney and brought John's wrist to his mouth. Rodney was still rubbing John's scalp as a shiver passed through him at the touch of Carson's mouth. Both of their hearts beat faster and Rodney's followed along. Something in their bond tingled and pulled tight as Carson sucked almost soundlessly. The moment stretched on and on.

Rodney watched John as John watched Carson. The pleasure Carson took in the act of claiming was reflected in John's softening expression. A faint hum started in John's throat, and he pushed his head into Rodney's fingers that still stroked John's crazy but impossibly soft hair. John's desires might be different than Rodney's in some ways, but Rodney recognized satisfaction. In that moment, he wanted to learn every possibly way to satisfy his partners.

Carson kissed John's wrist when he finished. John touched his fingers to Carson's mark and then reached under Rodney's fur to touch his mark without having to check where it was.

When John's wrist came to Rodney's mouth, the scientist licked and sucked as if he were tuning a radio in on John's humming sound. He could taste Carson, chocolate, and Athosian spices from the party food. Beneath that, he could taste John, the minerals in his skin. He could feel John's pulse under the skin, with just enough delay from the heartbeats Rodney heard to be noticeable, to make him realize how far John's heart had to push the blood to keep John warm and healthy. Rodney licked soothing circles until John's heart eased and didn't have to work so hard.

By the time he finished, John lay mellow and relaxed beside him. His voice was soft and husky as he whispered, "I don't know how to say it, but I love you both."

"You said it beautifully." Carson was still sitting half over Rodney as he reached out to lace his fingers between John's. "I love you, John. Remember we're here for you, as often as you want, no questions asked."

"Love you, too," Rodney said, all the words he could give before rolling onto his back. But he kept a hand petting John's hair. He pulled John closer until his head rested on Rodney's shoulder, fingers still in hair, arm embracing and supporting.

"Now can we just look at the stars?" John asked, voice still sounding wrecked.

"Uh huh," Rodney answered, feeling less than verbal himself.

Carson lay down again on Rodney's far side, fingers still intertwined with John's, their hands resting on Rodney's chest, right where John had been petting both fur and skin earlier.

As they looked up at the stars of another galaxy, Atlantis seemed to purr all around them. Together they could take care of each other, find ways to connect with Atlantis, and better serve those who lived within her. That was more than enough for now and maybe for always.

The End