General &
Dr.  Sheppard
By Xanthe






Part One:  Making History


	"So, do you have any idea why we're here?" Elizabeth whispered to
John as they both stood watching the scientists rush around Rodney's
lab with an air of barely concealed excite-ment.
	"I think it's a geek thing," John whispered back.  "Rodney said
we'd been invited to watch history being made.  He sounded pretty
pleased with himself."
	"Do we know what kind of history?  I mean...will there be loud
bangs and should we stand back?" Elizabeth asked.
	"I think that's always a wise precaution," John replied and they
both took a surreptitious couple of steps away from the general
melee.  
	"Right...I think we're ready.  Radek, are we ready?" Rodney asked,
in a tone of high oc-tane excitement.  Radek peered at the Ancient
device he was working on, which looked much like a ZPM only bigger
and less colorful, pressed a few buttons and then gave a cautious
smile.
	"We're ready!" he announced.  
	"Good.  Fine.  Great.  Yes," Rodney nodded, his fingers clicking
excitedly and his feet barely touching the ground as he hopped around
the lab.  "You two-what are you doing there?" he frowned as he
careened into John and Elizabeth.  "You can't stand there!  That's
where it's all going to happen!"
	"It is?  Then we definitely don't want to stand here," John said,
as Rodney shoved them none too gently out of the way and then bent
down to tape a large square area on the floor.
	"Okay.  Then I think we should begin," Rodney said, scrambling to
his feet when he'd finished.
	"I still think that maybe we should have checked the database again
to see if there were more clues there to how it worked," Radek said
in a worried tone.
	"Oh, for God's sake-it's quite obvious how it works!" Rodney
snapped.  
	"Well, it seems obvious, yes, but supposing it doesn't do what we
think it does?" Radek asked.  
	John turned to Elizabeth with a pained expression on his face. 
"This doesn't sound good," he murmured.  "Shall we edge closer
towards the door?"
	"Good thinking."  She moved a few feet to her left and he went with
her.
	"Well, of course it does what we think it does, Radek!" Rodney
shouted.  "What the hell do you think it's going to do?  Cook us
dinner?  It's quite clearly a transportation device."
	"Yes, yes...but to transport what-and where?" Radek asked.
	"We've been over this a thousand times," Rodney said.  "This will
completely revolution-ize the way we move around, both here and when
we're offworld.  It'll save lives!"
	"It'll save you walking as well," Radek muttered.
	"And that!"  Rodney beamed cheerfully.  "No more long treks to get
to where we want to go.  We'll be able to beam ourselves straight
there."
	"This is some kind of transportation device, then?" Elizabeth
asked.  
	Rodney rolled his eyes.  "Yes, yes-I've already said that!" he
exclaimed, seemingly having forgotten that he hadn't actually said it
to her.  He waved his hand at the Ancient ZPM-like device excitedly. 
"This, ladies and gentlemen-and Colonel Sheppard-is a mobile trans-
port device.  We can install it anywhere, on a puddle jumper, for
example, and then all we'll need is a small interface device the size
of a wrist watch-and, hey, presto-we'll be able to transport anywhere
within range of the device-and from what we can tell it's got a
pretty wide range."  He puffed his chest up proudly and gazed around
at the assembled audience.  
	"You're sure about this, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked.
	"Yes, of course I'm sure!" Rodney replied in an irascible tone.  
	"Well, I have to admit that does sound good," John said, nodding
slowly.  "We could do with that kind of facility when we go offworld."
	"It would mean that if someone got injured, for example, we could
transport them straight to the puddle jumper and then gate home.  No
need for them to endure a half-hour hike with a badly twisted ankle. 
For example," Rodney said pointedly.  
	John rolled his eyes.  "It was a ten-minute stroll and your ankle
wasn't badly twisted.  You had a stone in your shoe," he said.
	"Whatever.  With this," Rodney slapped the device and beamed
happily at him, "we won't have to walk anywhere unless we really want
to, and with your penchant for parking the puddle jumper miles from
where we want to go, that can only be a good thing."
	"Okay-so-what's going to happen?" John asked, gazing at the Head of
Science ex-pectantly.  He wasn't sure it was as exciting as Rodney
thought it was-they did already have transport facilities on both the
Daedalus and Atlantis-but he supposed this more mobile unit did at
least have practical merit and it would certainly be of use to them,
particularly in emer-gency situations.  
	"Well, I've got it set up so that when I press this button..." 
Rodney pointed.  "An object in my quarters will be transported into
this lab-into the vicinity of this taped square to be pre-cise-and
we'll be able to see it happening on this."  He pointed to his
laptop, which displayed a picture of the inside of Rodney's quarters.
"See that-that apple?" Rodney pointed at the apple sitting inside a
taped square in his quarters.  "I'm going to transport that here."
	"Well, at least you didn't decide to do the first test on a living
object," John commented.
	"I'm perfectly happy that it's safe, but yes, it was a wise
precaution," Rodney beamed.  "Okay everyone...are we ready?"
	"Don't milk it, Rodney," John said.  "Just press the button."
	"Fine.  Here goes."  Rodney punched in some sort of algorithm and
then stood back and pressed the button.  Nothing happened for a
moment, but then there was a high pitched hum and a whirring sound,
and the two noises merged at the exact same time as a massive ball of
light burst into being in front of them, twisting and spinning,
tightly confined in the exact spot where Rodney had taped his square.
	"Rodney?!" John yelled, because he was pretty sure this didn't look
or sound right.
	"It's fine...it's just a bit more...noisy than I thought it would
be," Rodney shouted over the loud whirring sound.  
	"It seems like a lot of energy just to transport an apple!" John
yelled, glancing at the lap-top showing the live footage of Rodney's
quarters-the apple was still sitting there, unmoving.
	"It's okay!" Rodney shouted, but there was a panicked look on his
face as the box began to shudder and the whirr became a squeal.  "I
can fix this!"  His hands moved at lightning speed over the keyboard
but nothing he did seemed to have any effect.  The Ancient device
shud-dered some more and then John saw a tiny spark of fire emerging
from the side of it.  
	"Get down," he yelled to Elizabeth, throwing her behind a table,
and crouching over her.  The noise got worse until it was all John
could hear and then there was a juddering sound and a belch of smoke
before it suddenly cut off completely in mid-shriek and all was quiet
once more.
	"Thank God," John muttered, getting to his feet.  "Rodney, what the
hell was...?" Then he saw the expression on Rodney's face and turned
to look at where Rodney was staring, in open-mouthed shock.  "Oh,
shit," John muttered.  
	Two men were standing within the taped area on the floor, looking
confused.  As the smoke cleared, one of them reached for his gun,
putting a hand out to thrust the other one be-hind him as he did so,
shielding him with his body.  John stared at the man with the gun in
shock, and the man stared back at him, equally shocked, because they
both could have been looking into a mirror.  The man they'd
transported into the taped square looked just like him-the likeness
was unmistakable.  His hair was slightly shorter and he wore a single
silver earring dangling from one ear.  His clothes...well, his
clothes were very different.  He was wearing a pair of black leather
pants that clung to his long legs in a way that John felt was perhaps
a little too revealing.  John's gaze was drawn to the thick black
leather belt around his waist, from which hung an assortment of
weaponry-something silver that jangled, a fearsome looking knife, and
some kind of leather strap-type weapon that John wasn't familiar
with.  He was wearing a plain black long-sleeved shirt, and over that
a black leather vest.  Around his neck was a black thong with an
intricate silver pendant on the end, engraved with two intertwined
initials-John wasn't close enough to see what they were.  Around his
wrists were two black leather cuffs with silver lacings and he was
wearing some comfortable looking black leather boots.  He
looked...kind of like a pirate.
	"What the hell just happened?" John asked, holding his own gun on
the stranger, and glancing over to Rodney.
	"I have no idea!" Rodney said, his fingers frantically scrabbling
over the keyboard.
	"Why have you brought us here?" the man in the taped square asked,
and everyone in the room looked at John and back at the man just to
check who'd said that because they both had exactly the same voice.  
	"I'm sorry-it was a mistake," John said, lowering his weapon
cautiously.  "Look...I don't know what's happened here but we didn't
mean to do this.  Rodney!" he yelled, feeling com-pletely out of his
depth.
	Rodney didn't reply-his gaze was fixed in horror on the second man
in the taped square who had stepped out from behind the first.  
	"Oh, shit-you didn't activate the QDD did you?" the second man
said, gazing at Rodney with an expression of some irritation on his
face.  
	John did a double take.  If coming face to face with the other John
had been unsettling, this was positively freaky.  The man who'd just
spoken was a doppelganger for Rodney...only... he wasn't.  He looked
just like Rodney, but, like the other John, he was dressed completely
dif-ferently.  His hair was longer and John noticed in surprise that
the extra length made the ends curl, giving his face a softer
appearance than Atlantis' Rodney.  Like the other John, he was
wearing a black leather thong around his neck with a pendant hanging
from it, but he was also wearing a slim strip of leather around his
throat as well, with a tiny silver buckle at the front.  He was
dressed in khaki cargo pants and a tight, sleeveless black tee
shirt...and, John couldn't help noticing, he looked a lot more buff
than their Rodney.  The sleeveless tee shirt revealed two toned arms,
and it had a slit at the top which revealed a fair amount of chest
hair, too.  Snaking up his forearm was a long, silver bracelet that
pointed directly at a tattoo on his upper arm.  It was unlike any
tattoo John ever seen-large and elegant, it was an interlinked J and
R, etched in black and then filled in with some kind of silver
piping.  
	"QDD?  What the hell is that?" Rodney said, taking a step towards
his doppelganger.  
	The new John immediately pointed his gun at him, stopping him in
his tracks.  "Don't touch him," he warned.  
	"What...  Hang on a moment here," John said stepping in front of
the gun and shielding Atlantis' Rodney.  "Nobody is going to touch
anybody-okay?  Now, before we get into all the science gobbledegook,
could you please stop waving that gun around?  Rodney might have
screwed up here, but we really don't want anyone shooting him.  At
least not before I get the chance," he muttered with a little grimace
over his shoulder in Rodney's direction.
	The new Rodney gave a little smirk at that, but John's eyes
remained fixed on the new John, who seemed like the kind of guy you
really didn't want to piss off.
	"Perhaps we could all cool down a little," Elizabeth said, stepping
forwards.  John heaved a sigh of relief for her diplomatic skills-he
figured his own were pretty much worn out by now and he really didn't
want anybody shooting anybody else-particularly when they looked so
much like him.
	The new John bowed his head in her direction.  "My lady," he said
in a tone of respect.  Elizabeth paused and John could see by the
expression on her face that she quite liked the title.  "My
apologies.  It's not my intention to harm anyone.  I'm just...very
confused right now."
	The new Rodney leaned against him and talked to him urgently. 
"It's all right, John.  I think what's happened is that this-idiot-
here," he cast an annoyed glance in Atlantis' Rod-ney's direction,
"just activated the Quantum Dimension Device without having a clue
how it works."  New John's hand wavered, and then he finally lowered
his gun, much to John's relief.
	"A Quantum Dimension Device?"  Atlantis' Rodney screwed up his face
and then realiza-tion flooded in.  "Oh, shit.  Are you saying...that
this thing...?"
	"I'm saying that we were in our own universe, minding our own
business, when you snapped a switch on that thing and sucked us
over," new Rodney said in an irritated tone.  "We discovered how it
worked about a year ago-without dragging a couple of hapless
bystanders across a universe to do it."
	"That can't be possible!" Rodney said, his mouth opening and
closing in a way that made him resemble a stranded fish, gasping for
air.  
	"You surely understand the principle?" new Rodney asked in a
patronizing tone.  
	"That there are at any one time an infinite number of universes co-
existing, some of them virtually identical to our own and some
completely different, yes, yes, of course," Rodney said impatiently.
	"Well, we're probably from one of the closest universes to this
one," new Rodney told him.  "And like I said, you've sucked us over
here.  Where were you aiming at?"
	"What?  Oh...my quarters."  Rodney gestured to the live footage on
the laptop which still showed the interior of Rodney's quarters,
complete with the untouched apple.
	"Well, that explains that.  We were in our quarters when the beam
went off-which is annoying because if we hadn't been, then it
wouldn't have caught us," new Rodney said.  "In-stead of aiming at
your quarters here, you picked us up in the same location in our
universe."
	"So what you're saying is, that this device...no wait...hang
on...back up a second here," Rodney said.  "You said our quarters?" 
He glanced from new Rodney to new John and back again.
	"Yes."  New John nodded and placed a hand on new Rodney's shoulder.
"Our quarters.  Why?  Does that have any bearing on how we get back?"
	Rodney's eyes flickered down to the large tattoo on new Rodney's
arm, with the inter-twined J and R on it and then his gaze shot up,
horrified, in John's direction.  John knew how he felt-he was feeling
a little freaked out himself.  
	"Okay," Elizabeth stepped in, clearly trying to ease the tension in
the room which had just shot up a distinct notch.  "Let's clear any
non-essential personnel out of here so we can sort this out."  She
waved her hand and several people slipped out of the door, all of
them casting amazed glances at each other as they went.  John
suspected that it would take all of three min-utes for news of this
to travel around the base.  "Now, first things first.  Rodney-can we
get these people back to where they belong?"
	"No," said both the Rodneys at the same time and then they glanced
at each other in irritation.
	"Not immediately, anyway," Atlantis' Rodney said.  "You saw the way
this machine re-sponded when we activated it-it's shot to pieces at
the moment and even if it wasn't, I don't know enough about the way
it works to guarantee that we could return them safely to their own
universe."
	"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you turned the
damn thing on," new Rodney muttered.
	"Well, perhaps if it had a label on it that said 'quantum sucky
thing-do not touch,' then I would have," Rodney snapped at him.  "But
we didn't know what it did."
	"That's true," Radek butted in.  "It was clear it was some kind of
transport, but there was nothing to indicate that it did anything
like this."
	"Radek?"  New Rodney's face lit up.  "Radek-you're alive!" 
	"What?  Yes, certainly, I'm very much alive," Radek said nervously,
pushing his glasses further up his face.  Then the realization hit. 
"So...in your universe, I am not?" he asked softly.
	"No.  Sorry-we lost you a year or so ago during the siege of
Atlantis," new John told him.  "I have to say that it's pretty damn
good to see you again, Radek."
	"All right-we can all compare notes on our various universes later,
but for now we need to sort a few things out.  Do you think you can
get the device working again?" Elizabeth asked, turning to the
Rodneys.  "And I mean both of you-working together?  I figure two
McKays must equal twice the brainpower."
	"Probably," both the Rodneys said together and then they glared at
each other again.  
	"It'll take time, though," Rodney warned.  
	"How much time?" Elizabeth asked.
	The Rodneys shrugged and then gazed at each other and back at the
machine.  The new Rodney glanced at the new John questioningly and
when he nodded, the new Rodney stepped out of the taped area and went
to look at the burnt out device.
	"Well, it's looking pretty busted right now," new Rodney observed,
with a scowl in Rod-ney's direction.  "So if it is repairable, it's
not going to be quick.  We could be talking weeks."  
	"Weeks?"  Rodney looked alarmed.  "Shit, I've just remembered
something-we don't have weeks!  Entropic Cascade will set in in less
than 48 hours unless we can get you out of here before then. 
Otherwise the effects will be lethal."
	"Entropic Cascade?" New Rodney frowned.  "Not with the QDD-this is
a sophisticated piece of Ancient engineering.  They designed it to be
an escape route into another universe in the event of the Wraith
taking over the city-it's got a built-in filter to nullify the
effects of EC, so we don't have that time pressure at least."
	"Oh."  Rodney actually looked as if he was disappointed by that.
	New Rodney glared at Rodney again and then went back to stand
beside new John once more.  
	"All right, if we've got a few weeks, let's work towards that,
then," Elizabeth said.  "As you're going to be our guests for a
little while, we need to arrange some facilities for you.  Now..." 
She hesitated and flushed slightly.  "I'm assuming you would prefer
to share quarters?"
	New John looked at her blankly, and his hand crept up to new
Rodney's shoulder again and stayed there, in a protective gesture. 
"Of course," he said, looking confused.  "Wait...you guys..."  he
glanced at John and Rodney.  "You're not together in this universe?"
	"No!" Both John and Rodney said together.
	"Okaaaay," new John said, exchanging a frown with his Rodney.  "So,
this is kind of weird," he muttered.  
	"Uh-hello!  Just as weird for us!" Atlantis' Rodney interjected,
holding up his hand.  "So you two are...what exactly?"  He stood
there, his arms folded across his chest, looking distinctly
unimpressed.  
	"Oh, God," John sighed.  "You had to ask?"
	New John grinned.  "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves.  I'm
General John Sheppard..."
	"General?" John frowned.  "Damn."  He wasn't sure why that annoyed
him, but somehow it did.  You can't possibly be competitive with
yourself, he told himself, but the idea that this John outranked him
niggled at him.
	"Hah-so it seems that the John in their universe has progressed a
little further up the career ladder than you, Lieutenant Colonel,"
Rodney said, stressing John's title pointedly, in a tone of malicious
glee, holding his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on
his heels a little in enjoyment of John's discomfort.
	"And this is my husband, Dr. Rodney Sheppard," new John added,
gesturing towards his Rodney.  The look on Atlantis' Rodney's face
was so comical that John almost fell about laugh-ing there and then.
	"What?" Rodney said, glaring at the new Rodney.  "God, what the
hell is wrong with you?" he growled.  "I mean, if you have to be
married to...to...him, then what's wrong with being the Sheppard-
McKays, hmm?  Or, wait, even better, the McKay-Sheppards.  No, wait,
wait...why couldn't he be John McKay?  Why did you have to take his
name?"
	Dr. Rodney Sheppard gazed at him blankly.  "Why wouldn't I?" he
asked.  "He's my top-of course I took his name when we got married. 
Don't you people have the same cus-toms?"
	"As a matter of fact..."  John started to say, but Rodney got there
first.
	"No!" he practically shouted.  "He's what?  Did you say he was your
top?  What the hell does that mean?"
	Elizabeth made a little sound in the back of her throat and John
stifled a grimace.
	"Uh, Rodney..." he began, looking into Rodney's absolutely outraged
blue eyes.  "Uh..."  He tried to find a way to explain it
sensitively, without upsetting Rodney even more, but then re-
alization flooded into Rodney's eyes as he figured it out for
himself. 	"Oh, my God!" he breathed.  "You're, like, what...his sex
slave?"
	"No!" both General and Dr. Sheppard said in unison.  Dr. Sheppard
glanced at his hus-band and grinned.
	"He's my husband.  I'm his top," General Sheppard said slowly, as
if talking to idiots.  "You people don't seem real familiar with
these pretty basic things so I'm assuming it's done dif-ferently
here?"
	"Kind of," John said.  "Look, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to
get to know one an-other.  In the meantime, why don't we show you to
some quarters and get you comfortable-then it's protocol that we have
Dr. Beckett look you over.  After that, if you'd like to join us in
the mess hall for something to eat?  We're really sorry for having
inconvenienced you like this and we'll do everything we can to get
you home as soon as possible."  He glared at Rodney as he said that
and Rodney glared back at him.
	"Okay...now...you're going to need some things," Elizabeth added. 
"John, Rodney-seeing as these men are the same size as you, perhaps
you could lend them a change of clothes?"
	Rodney gazed at his counterpart with an expression of distaste. 
"Well, okay...but I don't have anything like what he's wearing," he
said.
	"And I wouldn't be seen dead in what you're wearing," Dr. Sheppard
shot back at him.
	"Rodney," the general said sharply, placing a warning hand on his
husband's arm.  "I think you need to calm down a little."  He
squeezed the other man's arm and new Rodney took a deep breath and
nodded.  "We'll take what we're given-thank you.  I guess this is
going to take a little bit of getting used to," the general added. 
"For all of us."  
	"I think you're right," Elizabeth said softly.  "Perhaps you'd like
to come this way, gentle-men..."
	She put out a hand to show them the way and the general unclipped a
slim silver chain from his belt, and, to John's complete bemusement
and Rodney's barely stifled exclamation of disgust, attached it to
the slim leather collar nestled around Dr. Sheppard's throat.  Dr.
Shep-pard made a soft little noise and leaned into his husband and
then they both left the room to-gether, following on behind Elizabeth-
with Dr. Sheppard shooting another angry look in Rod-ney's direction
as they went.  
	John gazed after them, still trying to process all this. 
"So...they seem like nice guys," he said eventually, glancing at
Rodney.  "Well, if you ignore the whole leash and collar thing."  
	Rodney gave him a withering look in return, and then turned his
back on him and began studying the QDD intently, pointedly ignoring
the colonel.  
	"Okay, then," John said, turning and leaving the room.  


*                       *                       *


	Rodney delayed for as long as possible, but finally, after
Elizabeth called him and told him that giving Dr. Sheppard some of
his clothes was an order and not a request, he left the lab and went
back to his quarters.  The apple was still sitting there, in its
taped square, and he kicked it savagely with his foot.  He still
wasn't entirely sure how this had happened, and he hated being made
to look an idiot in front of all those people-and, more than anything
else, he really hated Dr. Sheppard.  
	"Stupid curly hair," he muttered, getting some clothes out of his
closet and throwing them furiously on the bed.  "See-that's why I
don't let it grow any longer.  Looks stupid like that."
He found a spare jacket and threw that onto the pile.  "I wouldn't
be seen dead in what you're wearing," he mimicked.  "I'd quite
happily see you dead," he muttered.  "You and your stupid curly hair
and that ridiculous tattoo and...excuse me...gay.  Gay and tattooed
and..."  His mind didn't even want to go to the other part, the part
with the collar and leash, the part that was frankly too kinky for
Rodney to even wrap his brain around, so he just left it there.
	He gathered up the little pile of clothes and then walked stiffly
along the hallway to the room Elizabeth had allocated to the
newcomers.
	The general let him in and gave him a grateful smile when he saw
the pile of clothes in Rodney's arms.  Rodney deposited his gift on
the bed, noticing as he did so that the colonel must have already
dropped by because there was another pile of clothes sitting there.  
	Rodney stood up and nodded to the general stiffly, before turning
to leave, but as he did so, Dr. Sheppard emerged from the bathroom.
	"Looks pretty much the same as back home," he said to the general,
before seeing Rod-ney.  "Oh.  You're here," he muttered.
	"Just dropping off the clothes you don't want to be seen dead in,"
Rodney told him.
	"I just think they'll be a little big on me, that's all," Dr.
Sheppard said pointedly.  "I'm a few pounds lighter than you.  You've
kind of let yourself go."
	"That's enough, Rodney," the general said firmly.  "New universe-
same old rules, re-member."
	Dr. Sheppard glanced at him from under his eyelashes and then
sighed.  "Okay.  I'm just ...really, really mad about this.  Imagine
how you'd feel," he told Rodney.  "One minute you're back in your
rooms hoping for a little R&R with the husband who's been offworld
for four days without you-so you have a bit of catching up to do-and
next thing you know, just as you're about to get down on your knees
and show him just how much you really missed him...you're scooped up
and thrown into a completely different universe and all because
someone was a bit careless about which Ancient devices they stuck
their fingers into."
	"Some of these things I really don't need to know," Rodney told him
stiffly, trying to ban-ish the image of his doppelganger kneeling
down in front of the general and reaching for the front of his tight
leather pants from his mind.  "I'm sorry, though," he muttered
contritely.  "I really didn't know this would happen.  I can see how
it would be...an inconvenience."
	"And what's really annoying is that if you'd just done it ten
minutes earlier, we wouldn't even have been in our quarters," the
other Rodney added.  "Just ten minutes!"
	"We're lucky really, though, Rodney," the general said softly,
putting an arm around his husband's chest and pulling him close.  His
Rodney came to rest easily against him, putting up a hand to touch
his husband's arm affectionately.
	"Hmm, how so?" he asked, glancing up at his husband.
	"Well, if Dr. McKay here had activated the device five minutes
earlier, as I recall you were standing on your own in the room right
about where we were taken.  You'd have just dis-appeared and I'd have
had no way of knowing where you'd gone-and you'd be on your own here
right now."  The muscles in his arm tightened, visibly, as he said
that and the look on the other Rodney's face actually made Rodney
feel sorry for him-his blue eyes were frankly devas-tated as he
considered that idea.  
	"Well...okay, then...pretty lucky, after all," he squeaked.
	"Like I said-I'm sorry," Rodney told them both, meaning it.  He
could imagine how re-sentful and weird he'd feel if the same thing
had happened to him.  "If there's anything else you need..."
	"There is, as a matter of fact," the general said.  "There are some
toiletries in the bath-room, but Rodney is right-I've been offworld
for four days and there are some things I really need to do to him
right now...so, would it be possible for you to supply me with some
lube?"
	Rodney gazed at him, horrified.  "What?" he spluttered at last.  
	"Lubricant?" the general said, in a surprised tone.  
	"Well, I don't know why you think I'd have any!" Rodney exclaimed,
feeling his cheeks grow hot at the very idea.
	The general frowned.  "If you don't mind me saying so, you people
seem really hung up about anything to do with relationships or sex,"
he commented.  "First you all freaked out when I said Rodney was my
husband, then you got really edgy when I said I was his top, and now
you look as if you're about to have a stroke because I've said I want
some lube so we can make love."
	"I'm not having a stroke.  My people are really, really cool with
the whole gay sex slave thing," Rodney said in a high-pitched kind of
voice.  "We know all about this stuff and we're completely fine with
it," he added.
	"Okay-firstly, not a sex slave," the other Rodney said, in a tone
of annoyance.  "Sec-ondly, I'm not surprised you don't have any lube
because it's clear as hell that nobody would want to go near you, let
alone make love to you."
	Rodney felt his temper rise uncontrollably at that.  "Well,
thirdly," he snapped back, his voice quavering as it rose an octave,
"I don't have any damn lube because I don't need any damn lube
because of being, you know, not-gay," he growled.  "I suggest you ask
Carson for some when he does your medical."
	And with that, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.


*                       *                       *


	Carson Beckett took a sharp intake of breath as the two newcomers
entered the infir-mary.  He'd been warned what to expect, but even
so, there was no denying that it was pretty damn weird.  These
men...they looked so very like the two men he'd been working with for
the past couple of years, and yet...the other John was holding a
silver lead that was attached to a leather collar around the other
Rodney's neck, and the other Rodney was leaning into him affec-
tionately, with a softness in his eyes that Carson didn't think he'd
ever seen in their own Rod-ney's eyes.  Their clothing was also
strange-it accentuated their bodies more, without being in any way
obscene or distasteful.  The entire tableau added up to something
completely alien while at the same time being eerily familiar and
that was precisely what made it so unsettling, Carson thought to
himself.  
	"Hey, Carson," the new John said easily, smiling at him.  
	"Uh...General Sheppard," Carson nodded his head nervously.  This
John had a different manner to their John.  He seemed very in
control, less flippant and laid back, while still having something of
their John's easy-going charm about him.
	"That's pretty formal.  Call me John," the general said with a
broad smile.  "Back in our universe, you're one of our closest
friends.  It feels weird to hear you call me General."
	"Right.  Okay.  John."  Carson nodded anxiously.  "And,
uh...Rodney."  He nodded at the other man.  
	"Carson."  The new Rodney frowned at him.  "I hope this won't take
long.  I mean, I un-derstand all the tedious protocol stuff, but, you
know, it's pretty clear who we are and where we came from, and it
isn't as if we invited ourselves-we were more or less kidnapped from
our own dimension and the sooner I get started on fixing the QDD, the
sooner we can go home.  Not that we're not having a great time
meeting you guys, but...we'd really like to leave ASAP."
	Carson found himself relaxing.  This Rodney, like their own,
clearly had a smart mouth on him and no intention of letting anyone
else get a word in edgeways.
	"Aye, Rodney, I understand that-however, I do need to do a full
physical on you both, just to make sure you don't have any kind of
communicable diseases.  I'd also like to do a DNA test to see how you
compare to our Sheppard and McKay, if that's okay with you?  This is
a re-markable event, after all, and we'd like to gather as much data
as possible."
	"Oh, God.  How long will all that take?" Rodney asked in a
resentful tone.  
	John put a hand on his arm.  "That'll be fine, Carson," he said
calmly.  "Let's get started."
	Carson nodded.  He decided to start with Rodney-the other man was
clearly fidgety and it would be a good idea to deal with him before
he started climbing the walls.  Carson had enough experience of their
own Rodney when he was in one of these moods to know how to handle
him.
	"Rodney, if you'd like to sit down here."  He put a hand on
Rodney's arm and gestured him to the bed.  Rodney stiffened and
glanced at John and Carson had the feeling that he'd just done
something very wrong.  "Uh, if that's okay?" Carson said uncertainly,
gazing from one to the other.  
	John's jaw tightened.  "That's fine," he growled.  "Just...ask me
first before you touch him, okay?"
	Carson hesitated; clearly he'd just transgressed some rule he
didn't know anything about.  Elizabeth had given him some
instructions on this subject, and he was under orders to find out
whether the new Rodney was a willing participant in this strange
relationship and that he wasn't being mistreated, but it was going to
be hard finding anything out if the general got this pissed off just
because he'd put a hand on Rodney's arm.
	"I'm sorry," Carson said softly.  "But if I'm going to examine him,
then I will need to touch him."
	"That's fine.  It's just that, in our universe, it's polite to ask
first and make your intentions clear," the general told him firmly. 
"I understand that this isn't our universe and you have differ-ent
customs, but even so, it's still a shock to us when people behave
differently.  We're not used to it."
	"Okay."  Carson took a deep breath, trying to wrap his head around
this.  "You're right, we don't know your customs.  I'm very sorry if
we do anything to offend you.  Perhaps when it happens you could just
point it out to us.  It'll be entirely innocent on our part."
	The general relaxed a little and nodded.  "All right.  Go ahead,
Doctor," he said, resting his hand on Rodney's neck and stroking him.
Rodney leaned back into the embrace, and Car-son had a weird moment,
watching them being so physically at ease with each other.
	"Doctor?" the general queried.  
	Carson shook his head.  "Sorry.  Just thinking...that if our John
did that to our Rodney, I'd have to put Rodney in restraints and
administer a strong sedative," he said with a wry grin.
	"Yeah, that man is so uptight," Rodney muttered.  "I don't know how
you guys can stand having him around."
	"Och, he's got a certain charm all of his own," Carson said,
feeling oddly defensive of their Rodney.  It was one thing for the
people on Atlantis to complain about him and tease him, but quite
another for these newcomers to say anything against him.  He was,
after all, their Rodney, and Carson suspected they were all rather
fond of the scientist, even if he could be a total pain in the arse.
	"He's rude and obnoxious," the new Rodney sniped.  
	The general's fingers closed around his husband's neck in a little
squeeze.  "He's not unlike you were when I first met you," he said.  
	"Oh, please!  That's so not true!" Rodney retorted in a voice that
sounded so like their own Rodney's that Carson couldn't help but grin.
	"I think that's probably why you don't like him," the general
added, with a grin of his own.  Rodney glared at him, and then glared
at Carson as well when he saw his grin.  
	Carson took some blood from Rodney, and then glanced warily at the
general.  "If you don't mind, John, I'd like to examine Rodney on his
own," he said.  
	"Why?  I'd prefer to be present if you're going to be touching
him," John replied.  
	"It's one of our customs," Carson told him.  "We have a thing
called doctor/patient confi-dentiality.  There might be something
Rodney wants to share with me that he'd feel uncomfort-able talking
about in front of you."
	John gazed at Carson blankly.  "Like what?" he asked, in a bemused
tone.
	"I don't know.  Anything," Carson shrugged, glancing at Rodney. 
Rodney was giving him an equally blank look.
	"I can't think of anything," Rodney said.  "What could there be
that I wouldn't want John to know about?"
	"I don't know," Carson said again, feeling that they were totally
not on the same wave-length on this, and at a loss as to how to
explain it any better than he had already.  His orders from Elizabeth
weighed on his mind as well.  She'd asked him to ensure that this new
Rodney was okay-that he wasn't some kind of slave who needed
liberating, and Carson didn't know how he could ascertain that if the
general hovered over him during his examination.  If Rodney was being
coerced into this relationship, then he wouldn't be able to talk
freely about that in the general's presence if he was afraid of the
man-although Carson had to admit that he didn't seem particularly
afraid of him.
	"I'm going to have to ask you to take this on trust," Carson said
eventually.  "Look, why don't you stand in the next room, John?  You
can leave the door open and if Rodney thinks I'm doing anything he's
uncomfortable with, he can call you."
	At least that way he'd be able to have a private conversation with
Rodney without John hearing.  The general glanced at Rodney, who
shrugged.
	"I don't mind," he said.  "If it's one of their customs."
	"Okay," John said at last.  "Just call me if you need me."  He
leaned over and deposited a firm kiss on Rodney's mouth and then
turned and left.  Carson stood there for a moment, try-ing to process
the fact that these two men, who looked so much like his own Colonel
Sheppard and Dr. McKay, had just had a deep smooch.  It was...just
plain weird.
	"Is it okay if I remove this?" Carson asked, turning back to Rodney
and touching the col-lar around his neck, lightly.  The collar didn't
look uncomfortable, but he wanted to make sure the skin underneath it
was healthy-and also to check whether Rodney was allowed to remove it.
	"Okay," Rodney shrugged.  
	Carson unbuckled it and examined it for a moment.  It was made of
very soft leather, and the inside was lined with some kind of padded
material.  It hadn't even left a mark on Rod-ney's neck so it clearly
wasn't fastened too tight, or pulled on to cause discomfort.
	"Could you take your shirt off?" Carson asked, getting out his
stethoscope.  He did want to listen to Rodney's heart, but he also
wanted to make sure the other man didn't have any marks of abuse on
his body.  
	Rodney did as he was told, stripping off with an air of impatience.
His body looked in better shape than their own Rodney's-and there was
no sign of any bruising or anything else for that matter, although
Carson didn't know what he'd been expecting or even exactly what he
was looking for.  It was just the collar and lead thing that had
thrown them all and led to Eliza-beth's concern.  
	He listened to Rodney's heart, and then took his blood pressure. 
"Impressive," he mur-mured.  Their Rodney was borderline
hypertensive, but this Rodney's heart was clearly in a more healthy
state.  "Rodney...I wanted to ask you..."  he hesitated, unsure how
to best ap-proach this difficult issue.  
	"Is my relationship with General Sheppard consensual?" Rodney
supplied for him, rolling his eyes slightly.  "Don't think I haven't
figured out just how freaked you people are by us.  That's what all
the doctor/patient confidentiality crap was all about isn't it?  And
why you wanted me to remove my collar?  Do you want to check my ass,
Carson, to make sure he doesn't rape me every night?  For God's sake!
What's wrong with you people?  He's my husband!  Why would I be with
someone who abused me?  I'm not his slave-I'm his partner.  We're
equals."
	"It's just the collar and lead thing," Carson muttered, feeling
embarrassed.  
	"What about it?  He's my top-it's like...it's like...I saw two of
your people in the hallway on the way here and they were holding
hands.  It's like that to us.  Nothing more.  I don't under-stand why
it freaks you out-where I come from it's just normal.  Nobody would
think anything of it."
	"Okay."  Carson nodded.  "I'm sorry if we've offended you.  It's
just we were concerned about your welfare, that's all."
	"I think you should be more concerned about your own welfare,"
Rodney snapped.  "You people are all so damn locked up in yourselves.
Look at you, Carson!  My Carson doesn't have that worried frown all
the time.  He'd be laughing at this if he could see it.  You people
are all stressed out all the time without even knowing it."
	"You could be right," Carson said, in a conciliatory tone.  
	"I usually am," Rodney said pointedly.  "Now, can I put my shirt
back on or was there anything else you wanted to see?"
	"No.  That's fine.  Go ahead," Carson sighed.  This really hadn't
gone very well, although at least he'd be able to report back to
Elizabeth that this Rodney was no more a victim than their own was.  
	Carson called John back in, examined him and took his blood, and
then finished up, feel-ing rather relieved.  He was intrigued by what
Rodney had said, though-it was strange thinking of another him in
another universe leading another life.  He wondered what this other
Carson was like.  Did he wander around in a collar on the end of
someone else's lead?  Could he pos-sibly be happy with that?  Carson
didn't think so.  Now Carson did at least have a better under-
standing of what their own John and Rodney must be feeling, being
confronted by such a very challenging alternate view of themselves. 
Carson made a mental note to check up on them and see how they were
both handling having their alter egos on the base.
	"Just one more thing," the general asked, rolling back his sleeve
after Carson had taken his blood.  "We need some lubricant.  I asked
Dr. McKay for some earlier, but he nearly fainted on the spot and
said I should ask you."
	"Aye, that sounds like Rodney," Carson said, with a wry smile.  "Of
course I can let you have some.  Do you need condoms as well?"
	"Why the hell would we need condoms?" Rodney snapped.  "Unless.... 
Oh, God, in this universe men can't have babies, can they?"
	"No, Rodney," Carson said, trying hard not to laugh.  "No...I was
offering the condoms for safe sex.  To avoid sexually transmitted
diseases?" he supplied when he saw that both men were still looking
blank.  
	"We're in a monogamous relationship, Doc," John told him.  "So
that's not really an issue for us.  But thanks all the same."  He
took the tube of lubricant that Carson was holding out for him.  "Oh,
and one other thing...Dr. McKay keeps calling us something...  what
was the word, Rodney?" He glanced at his husband.
	"Gay," Rodney said sourly.  "What does it mean?  Is it some kind of
insult?  I bet it is."
	Carson gazed at them for a second, desperately suppressing the urge
to laugh once more.
	"Uh, no...it's not really an insult.  It's an expression we use to
denote people of the same gender being in a sexual relationship. 
It's a kind of colloquial expression for homosexuality.  I take it
that it isn't a term you use in your universe?"
	"Nope."  John shook his head.  "Never heard of it.  Why does it
matter whether people of the same gender are in a relationship?  Is
that important here?"
	"Yes," Carson sighed.  "It's becoming more accepted, but there are
still a lot of taboos against same gender relationships.  That's
probably partly why Rodney got so freaked out when you asked him for
lubricant.  People aren't comfortable with the issue."
	"Oh, God, you people-you have everything upside down," Rodney
growled.  "You haven't figured out whether you're tops, bottoms or
switches, which-hello! -is much more im-portant than the gender of
the people you sleep with, and you scream and run a mile if anyone
mentions sex.  I have no idea how you even get through the day."
	"We do okay," Carson said defensively.  "I think we just have very
different ideas about interpersonal relationships than your people."
	"Well, obviously," Rodney muttered.  
	"One thing I was wondering..."  Carson bit on his lip, unsure
whether he wanted to know the answer to this or not.  "As we're on
the subject of relationships...uh...your Carson...is he in a
relationship back in your universe?"
	The general grinned at him.  "Yeah.  He just got married," he said,
slapping Carson's arm affectionately.  
	"Oh, aye?  Who to?"  Carson hoped his voice didn't come out like a
squeak.
	"Colonel Caldwell," John told him.  
	"What?"  Carson gazed at him, unsure whether he was horrified or
flattered.  
	"You're not with him here, then?" John asked.  
	"No...I'm single," Carson replied.
	"Well, you're very much taken in our universe.  You couldn't take
your eyes off the colo-nel from the moment the Daedalus arrived.  At
first we just thought you were really concerned for the health of the
Daedalus' crew, with all the tests you kept running  Then we realized
it was their commanding officer you were actually interested in.  You
kept it quiet for a while because you both wanted to be sure."
	"Oh, God."  Carson sat down with a bump.  "Colonel Caldwell? 
Really?" he asked, feel-ing his chest tighten.  "Oh, God," he said
again, imagining himself walking around after the tall, imposing
colonel, at the end of the other man's lead.  Now he really knew how
poor Rodney felt having these two men here on Atlantis.  It was
just...disturbing.
	"Does that mean...do I wear a collar like Rodney?" Carson asked,
tracing a hand ab-sently over his neck.  
	John roared with laughter.  "No!  Idiot!  You're the colonel's
top!" he said, slapping Car-son's arm heartily as if he'd just told a
good joke.
	"What?" Carson sat there, stunned.  "What?" he said again, blankly.
He'd found it hard imagining being on the end of Caldwell's lead, but
he found it positively impossible to imagine himself attaching a lead
to the tall colonel's collar and pulling him around.  "Are you sure?"
he frowned.
	"Of course!" John told him.  "I was best man at your wedding.  I
fastened your belt my-self."
	"My belt?" Carson spread his arms, feeling confused.  John pointed
at his own thick, black leather belt, from which dangled various
items of equipment.
	"Your belt," he repeated.  "It's our custom-the best man or woman
makes a gift of a belt to the top on their wedding day.  That's why
we say 'buckling the belt' sometimes when we refer to two people
getting married.  I take it you don't have the same expression?"
	"Uh...no...we say 'tying the knot'," Carson said weakly.
	"What knot do you tie?" Rodney asked, poking his fingers curiously
into some of the vi-als that were sitting on the table.
	"Oh...it's not a real knot.  It's more of a metaphorical knot I
think," Carson frowned.  
	John gazed at him steadily as if he thought this was another thing
that was seriously strange about Carson's universe.  "Well, ours is a
real belt," he shrugged.  "The one you gave me when you were best man
at our wedding was particularly well supplied, but then you knew
Rodney pretty well and clearly thought I needed all the help I could
get!" he laughed.
	"Supplied?" Carson asked, glancing at the belt.
	"Yeah."  John fastened his fingers into the loops on his belt. 
"Clamps, clips, leash, strap," he said, pointing at various dangling
items and finishing up with the black leather strap that hung from
it.  He glanced at Rodney, who grinned back at him.  
	"I can be a handful sometimes," Rodney said with a shrug.  
	"He beats you?" Carson asked, in a strangled tone.
	"Of course not," Rodney sighed.  "He spanks me.  Big difference."
	"He loves it!" John laughed.
	"Well, mostly I love it.  Sometimes I don't-when I'm being
punished," Rodney added, wrapping an arm around his husband's waist
and gazing up at him fondly.  "Oh, God, Carson, don't go getting that
look again!  How do you people punish each other when you screw up?"
	"We...uh...d'you mean when we screw up professionally?" Carson
asked, confused.
	"When you screw up any which way," Rodney shrugged.  "Supposing
someone stole from someone?"
	"Well...we've got a brig," Carson said uncertainly.  "And back on
Earth we have big pris-ons where we keep the people who've
transgressed the laws of our society and....  What?" he said, seeing
the look of shock on their faces.
	"You keep people locked up?  In cages?" John asked, sounding aghast.
	"Well, not cages...cells," Carson said defensively.
	"Like animals?" Rodney said, in a choked tone.  "Away from their
families and loved ones?  Away from their husbands and wives?"  He
sounded utterly horrified.
	"Aye."  Carson spread his arms.  "It's just what we do."
	"And you think we're freaky," Rodney muttered.  
	"How does it work for you, then?" Carson asked, trying to be as non-
judgmental as pos-sible as there was obviously a culture gap here
that would take quite some time and effort to bridge.
	"Well, if Rodney screwed up, I'd punish him," John shrugged.  "I'm
his top so he's my responsibility."
	"You're talking about physical punishment?"
	"Of course.  The strap isn't just for show," John said with a
shrug.  
	"And supposing you didn't punish him?" Carson asked, genuinely
curious.  "Supposing he did something-like stealing-and you refused
to punish him?  Would someone else punish him?"
	"No!"  John shook his head.  "Nobody except me can touch him.  If I
refused to punish him, then I'd be punished instead," John shrugged. 
"That's the way it works."
	"So who'd punish you?" Carson frowned.  "Rodney?"
	"No!"  Rodney and John both laughed.  
	"No-the highest status top I reported to would punish me.  It
happened not so long ago.  My Lady Elizabeth punished me."  John
glanced at Rodney, who had gone strangely still and silent, his head
hanging down.  "But we'll save that story for later," John said
softly.  "Come on, Rodney, I think it's time we went back to our
quarters and had that reunion, don't you?" 
	Rodney took a deep breath and then glanced up, with a grin. 
"Sounds good to me," he said.
	"Thanks, Doc.  We'll see you later-in the mess hall?" John asked.  
	"Aye, of course."  Carson nodded.  
	Carson watched them go, thinking what a great couple they made. 
They looked so easy together, so right.  The general had one arm
wrapped around his husband's shoulders and Rodney's arm was wrapped
around the general's waist, and they were talking in low, conspira-
torial voices, and nobody could doubt the genuine and obvious
affection they felt for each other.  At least Carson felt his mind
had been put to rest on that score.  He'd have no trouble telling
Elizabeth that although this relationship might seem strange to them,
it was entirely consensual, and where they came from, their behavior
was clearly perfectly normal.
	"Colonel Caldwell, though...."  Carson sat back in his chair,
feeling winded.  "Colonel Caldwell?!"


*                       *                       *


Part Two:  Culture Clash


	General Sheppard was relieved when he finally got his husband back
to their quarters.  It had been a long and difficult day so far and
he was glad to finally be alone with someone he didn't have to
explain himself to.
	"At least the city looks the same," Rodney was saying as they
entered the room.  "I know these aren't our quarters and we don't
have our things, but at least when we're alone we can pretend it's
our universe and not theirs.  These people are so weird.  Are any of
them even in relationships?  They all seem to be single.  Just
walking around in their polite little world with-out..."  
	John decided he'd heard enough-if you let Rodney go on, then you
could quite literally find yourself listening to him all day.  He
grabbed his husband's arm, pushed him against the wall, and kissed
him hard on the mouth.  
	"Unnnhhh," Rodney finished, melting into him in that very
satisfying way he had.  His husband's large hands slid down the back
of his leather pants and caressed his butt and John sighed and went
back in for another deep kiss.  Rodney opened up for him, his mouth
devouring John's hungrily, and John gathered him up in his arms and
held him tight.  Damn, but it had been a long time!  Four days was
too long considering how frequently they made love when they were
together.  John's cock was already rock hard and he couldn't wait to
get his husband naked and make love to him.  Rodney had his own
ideas, though, and when John released him, he sank immediately to his
knees and reached eagerly for the front of his husband's leather
pants.  John grinned, and entwined his hand in Rodney's wavy hair. 
This would do-in fact, this would do very well.  It'd take the edge
off his sexual appetite so when he did finally sink himself into
Rodney's ass, he'd be able to make love to him for a very long time.  
	Rodney opened his fly and released John's hard cock and then paused
for a moment and gazed up at his husband for permission to suck.
	"Oh, yeah-get me off, Rodney," John urged, moving so that he had
his back to the wall now and could lean against it.  Rodney didn't
need any more encouragement than that and he dipped his head and took
John's hard cock in his mouth with one expert swallow.  John sighed. 
Rodney really was extraordinarily good at giving head.  He stroked
Rodney's hair gently as Rodney deep-throated him and it wasn't long
before he was coming down Rodney's throat, and then Rodney was
cleaning him up with little laps of his tongue, before getting to his
feet with a satisfied smile on his face.
	"God I missed you," Rodney said, sighing and leaning against him in
that way he had, like a cat.  It always made John feel good to have
Rodney's solid body entwined around him, and he wrapped his arms
around his husband and sniffed his hair contentedly.  
	"Missed you, too," John breathed, reconnecting with the smell and
taste and feel of his husband.  
	"Four days without seeing you and then this had to happen," Rodney
sighed.
	"Get over it, Rodney," John told him.  "It happened-but we're both
okay.  It's not like either of us died.  I know what your problem is.
You're coiled like a spring.  In fact, when you're this uptight you
sound just like Dr. McKay."
	"Hey, I just gave you a Rodney Sheppard special blow job and now
you're insulting me?" Rodney protested.
	"It was a very nice blow job," John grinned, grabbing his husband's
head and looking deep into his eyes.  "But you are twitchy as hell,
you've gone four days without me followed by all these shenanigans,
and you need taking down."
	Rodney's blue eyes widened appealingly at that and John felt his
cock twitch again.  He might have only just come, but Rodney could
make him hard again in no time at all.  
	"Is that what you're going to do?" Rodney whispered.  "Take me down?"
	John smiled affectionately and leaned in for another gentle kiss. 
"Oh, yeah," he replied.  "Now, get your clothes off and get over to
the bed so I can take a good look at you."
	He disengaged himself and walked over to the bed, then slowly undid
his belt, knowing that Rodney was watching him, those eager eyes of
his missing nothing.  John put the belt and all the items hanging
from it on the nightstand, then removed his vest and boots before
sitting down on the bed.  Then he leaned back and gazed at Rodney.
	"So...clothes?"  John raised an eyebrow.  "I don't want to have to
rip them off you be-cause the only other things you have to wear are
what Dr. McKay brought you and somehow I don't think you're going to
look as cute in those."
	Rodney snorted at that, and quickly tugged his tee shirt over his
head.  He made short work of his boots, kicked off his pants and
socks, and then came to stand by the bed, naked.  John gazed at him
for a good long time, feasting on the sight of his husband's naked
flesh.  Dammit, but Rodney turned him on so much.  He loved the broad
chest and shoulders, the fine covering of chest hair, and the compact
hips.  But John didn't miss the tense shoulder muscles and the way
Rodney was holding his body, stiff and hunched.  Rodney was stressed
out, and John was going to make sure that he got exactly what he
needed.  His gaze rested for a long time on Rodney's swollen cock. 
He knew his husband had to be desperate to get off, but he also knew
he had to take his time and make this really work-for both of them.
	"Looks pleased to see me," John commented with a nod at Rodney's
cock.
	"Yeah, like it's never not pleased to see you, General Tightpants,"
Rodney shot back.
	"Shame it's not allowed to come, then," John told him pleasantly.  
	Rodney sighed.  "You're evil," he muttered.
	"I know."  John grinned at him.  "Now turn around-let's see that
beautiful ass of yours."  He twirled his fingers and Rodney turned,
with an insouciant swing of his hips, to reveal his butt.  John gave
a happy sigh.  He loved all of Rodney, but he had a special fondness
for his hus-band's ass.  It was just such a nice ass-round and firm
and so eminently biteable, spankable and fuckable.  
	"Mmmm...hold still," John said, grabbing Rodney around the waist
and placing a big kiss on his husband's butt.  Rodney giggled, and
John's heart positively sang at the sound.  He had-n't heard Rodney
giggle once since they'd arrived in this universe, and it was a sound
he'd missed.  He kissed Rodney's butt some more, and then sank his
teeth gently into it, just enough to leave a little mark because he
liked marking Rodney's flesh, and after four days away, all his
previous marks had faded.  He knew Rodney got off on being marked,
too, and his husband gave an excited little gurgle and glanced over
his shoulder.
	"I might have known it would only take you a few minutes to make
sure you put the Sign of John back on me," he commented.  
	John laughed.  "I hate it when there's not something of me here,"
he said, stroking Rod-ney's ass appreciatively.  "Your whole body is
like a blank canvas-and this ass of yours is a work of art of all by
itself so it doesn't need that many enhancements; a nice little bite
mark or handprint just sets off the color of your skin perfectly. 
Now come here."
	He reached out and pulled Rodney down on top of him.  He liked this-
him fully clothed, Rodney butt naked.  It felt sexy as hell.  He
kissed Rodney hard on the lips again and Rodney moaned and rubbed
against him.
	"Are you sure about the whole not coming thing?" Rodney whimpered
when John re-leased him.
	"Very sure," John said firmly.  He knew that Rodney would hold on
because he'd com-manded him to and his husband would never disobey
him on this, but he also knew that the ini-tial frustration would
only add an extra frisson to their lovemaking and Rodney would come
all the more explosively when he was allowed to.  
	"God, I hate you," Rodney sighed, kissing his way along John's
jawline and ending up at his mouth again.
	"Mmmm...yeah...I'm really getting that whole hating vibe off you
right now," John laughed, placing his hands on Rodney's butt and
squeezing.  "How long has it been since I last spanked you?" he
asked, stroking the soft skin affectionately.
	"I don't know.  A week?"  Rodney glanced at him.  
	"That would explain why you're so mouthy, then," John said.  "You
really shouldn't go more than a couple of days without being spanked."
	"Are you going to spank me first or fuck me first?" Rodney asked,
lying contentedly in his husband's arms, his naked body laid out over
John's clothed one like a feast.
	"Neither-I'm going to play with you first," John said, pushing
Rodney up onto his haunches, and then pulling him down again so that
his chest was level with John's mouth.  "First these..."  John closed
his mouth around one of Rodney's hard nipples and sucked down on it
and Rodney moaned ecstatically.  John rested his hands on Rodney's
butt as he worked, suck-ing forcefully.  Rodney loved having his
nipples played with and could take some quite rough play, but John
wasn't in the mood to do more than suck and nibble.  Rodney was
sighing, and his hands came to rest on John's shoulders.  John held
him even tighter, and gave a little teas-ing bite to one of his
nipples.  Rodney squealed and drew back.
	"As you were, Rodney," John told him, pulling him back so that he
was close again and going in for another bite.  Rodney squealed
again, wriggling in John's grasp, but he stayed where he was and let
John torment his nipples some more.  John bit down gently and then
soothed the sore nub with his warm tongue before repeating the action
and Rodney was moan-ing now, begging John to stop, for the torture to
end, but sighing in pleasure all the same.
	Finally John drew back.  "Over my knee," he said throatily,
grabbing Rodney and pulling him down over his knee.  Rodney's legs
were splayed, revealing just a pucker of asshole, pink and inviting. 
John reached for the lube, rubbed it liberally over his fingers and
then slid one deep into Rodney's waiting ass.
	"Oh, shit..."  Rodney sighed, opening up under John's questing
finger.  John kept the finger in place and then slapped Rodney's ass
with his other hand.  Rodney's buttocks gave a little wobble as they
were spanked and John loved the large pink handprint he left in his
wake.  It soon faded and John slid another finger inside Rodney, as
deep as it would go, and slapped his ass again, harder this time. 
Rodney gave a deep moan of frustration.
	"I really need to come!" he cried.
	"I know," John said soothingly.
	"Can I?" Rodney asked.
	"Nope," John replied, spanking him again.
	"I'm dying here!" Rodney complained.
	"If you come before I say you can, then you'll be sleeping on the
floor tonight with a really sore ass and not in the bed with me with
a pleasantly glowing one," John told him.  Rod-ney let out a wail of
utter sexual frustration and John grinned to himself.  This was what
he loved about Rodney-his husband was in no way stoic.  He wouldn't
hold on grimly because he'd been told to-no, he bitched, and whined,
and wriggled, and wheedled-and John loved it.  His own cock was now
hard again, but he ignored it.  This ass was too tempting a target
for his hand, and besides, he loved fucking Rodney best when his
lover had a warm butt.  He slid his fingers back and forth inside
Rodney's ass, all the time keeping up a firm rhythm with the palm of
his other hand, and slowly but surely Rodney's ass turned from a deep
creamy color to a beautiful shade of bright pink.  John's slaps were
firm but erotically so-this was a pleasure spanking and they both
knew the difference between this and a punishment spanking.  Luckily
John didn't usually have to deliver many of those.  
	Finally John slowed his pace, before stopping altogether, and
Rodney lay over his knee, moaning softly.  John noted that the
tightly bunched muscles in his shoulders were already starting to
look looser.
	"I think that's taken care of.  Now I'm gonna fuck your brains
out," John said.
	"Promises, promises," Rodney muttered.  
	John laughed.  "When do I ever not keep my promises?" he said,
pushing Rodney off his knee only to pounce on him, and kiss him
again.  Rodney lay there, naked and accepting, while John covered him
in kisses.  Then, slowly, with a grin of total sexual evil, John slid
one finger along the underside of Rodney's erect cock.  He could see
the goose pimples spring up on Rodney's flesh and the sheen of sweat
break out on his face from the effort of not coming.
	"Oh, God...evil, cruel, evil, inhuman..."  Rodney muttered.  "Hate
you, hate you, hate you..."
	"Still holding on?" John asked, moving his finger rhythmically up
and down, up and down the hard shaft.
	"Just about...no thanks to you," Rodney wailed.  "Really hate you
now."
	John grinned again and moved his hand away to pinch Rodney's
nipples tight.  
	"Ow!" Rodney cried, but John swallowed the sound with a deep kiss,
keeping his squeezing grip on Rodney's nipples throughout, loving the
sounds Rodney was making in the back of his throat and the way he was
squirming under the fierce caress.  Finally John released him and
Rodney sank back, his face now nearly the same shade as his ass.
	John decided it was time to put him out of his misery.  He'd taken
him about as far as he could go and he didn't want to push him over
the edge.  The last thing he wanted was to have the bed to himself
later this evening-Rodney would bitch all day tomorrow if he wasn't
allowed to sleep in his arms tonight and besides, John hated it when
he had to sleep without Rodney beside him.
	John pushed Rodney's legs open, got between them, and then slowly
teased his hus-band's anus with his hard cock, just dipping it a
little way in and then withdrawing.  Rodney let out a strangled moan.
	"Please...you've gotta get in me," he muttered.
	"Mmm, but it's so much fun just teasing you," John replied.  Rodney
gazed up at him, his hair disheveled and his eyes needy.  John took
pity on him, and slid his hands underneath his husband's warm
buttocks and pulled them apart.  Rodney gave a throaty growl that
became a shriek of pure pleasure as John pressed his hard cock
against his anus and then slid inside him.  Rodney's legs immediately
came up and wrapped themselves around John's back.  
	"Oh, God...that's deep...but need you deeper," Rodney said
hoarsely, gazing up at John blearily, his blue eyes dark with arousal.
	"Okay...you can come any time you like," John told him, leaning
over him, still fully clothed.
	"Oh, thank God!" Rodney cried.
	"Any time you like after I've come," John clarified.
	"Noooo!  No!  No!  No!" Rodney moaned at the caveat, banging his
head back on the pillow repeatedly in time to his protests.  "You
already came once when I sucked you so you'll be ages!"
	"I know.  I'll be a nice long time," John told him smugly.  "Just
lie back and enjoy."  He patted Rodney's face affectionately, then
grabbed his hips and began sliding in and out, with slow, leisurely
thrusts.  Rodney's body had lost most of the tension that John had
noticed ear-lier, and now he was almost completely relaxed as he lay
there, his arms akimbo on the bed, his erect cock standing out proud
from his body as John thrust into him powerfully, taking his time. 
	Rodney's entire body seemed to unravel a little more with each
inward stroke of John's cock and John smiled to himself.  It might
have been merciless to insist that Rodney couldn't come, but it was
that lack of mercy that had turned Rodney into the boneless heap of
goo cur-rently quivering under his touch.  He paused for a moment,
and leaned his fully clothed body over Rodney's naked one and
deposited a long, deep kiss on his husband's lips.  Rodney opened up
eagerly for him, kissing him back, passionately, with total abandon. 
John loved get-ting Rodney to this stage, to where he just
surrendered, completely and utterly, to whatever John wanted to do to
him.  
	John lowered his face and nuzzled at Rodney's nipples, kissing and
sucking them, and Rodney whimpered in pleasure, his hands patting at
John's back in a totally incoherent gesture of appreciation.  Finally
John pulled away again, and started thrusting once more.  He looked
down on Rodney panting and mewling beneath him and felt a wave of
total love for his husband.  Rodney looked so damn beautiful here
like this.  Thank God that beam that had brought them to this
universe hadn't separated them because John knew he'd be beside
himself with worry if that had happened.  At least they were together-
and even if they could never find a way home, they'd always have each
other.
	Rodney was smiling up at him, and John wondered if he was thinking
something similar.  Rodney's ass was milking his cock, making each
thrust even more pleasurable, and John knew he was close.  He moved
up the pace, pounding into Rodney faster and harder, until he was
coming, ejaculating his warm semen deep into Rodney's body.  He hung
there for a moment, gasping and blinking as his orgasm continued for
what felt like a very long and intensely pleas-urable time, and then
moved his hand to take firm hold of Rodney's cock.
	"I'm done, Rodney," he muttered.  "So you can come-any time you
want."  He slid his hand up and down Rodney's hard shaft a couple of
times, but that was all it took and then Rod-ney was coming over his
hand and over his own naked stomach, with a cry of absolute sexual
pleasure.  
	John grinned, and rolled over, wanting to avoid getting splattered
while he was still dressed.  He removed his clothes and then got back
into bed and took Rodney in his arms.  Rodney nestled against him, in
that way he had, melting against John's body, and they lay there for
a long time.  Every so often, John moved his face and kissed Rodney's
hair, or forehead, or lips, and Rodney would reciprocate by stroking
John's bottom with those big, clever hands of his.  
	"What were you thinking, earlier?" John asked.  "When you smiled at
me?"
	"I was wondering why I'd been getting so pissed off with Dr. McKay
for bringing us here," Rodney replied.  "No, this isn't our universe
and we don't belong here-but when you were look-ing down on me just
then, as you made love to me, I just kind of figured that none of
that mat-ters because wherever you are is home."
	John didn't have a reply for that.  He just gathered Rodney up in
his arms and kissed him deeply on the lips for a very, very long time.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney McKay tried turning on the QDD for the 25th time and for the
25th time in a row got a faint flicker of light followed by a noise
that sounded like a depressed parrot wailing down a well and then the
light disappeared, the noise ended abruptly, and the QDD went black
and dead-again.
	"Oh, God."  Rodney sat down and buried his head in his arms.  He'd
been working on the device non-stop ever since the accident that had
transported their doppelgangers into their universe, apart from his
brief sojourn to give the newcomers clothes.  Carson had dropped by a
couple of times, but had left fairly soon once Rodney started
snapping at him.  Even Radek had eventually had enough of his foul
mood and had disappeared somewhere, but Rodney couldn't stop working.
If he could have gotten the device working by sheer force of will
alone, then he would have, but in his heart he knew that the other
Rodney's prognosis that it might take weeks was probably correct-and
he couldn't stand the thought of it.  Weeks!  Weeks of having to put
up with his irritating alter ego and his freaky relationship with the
doppelganger John.  It made Rodney's palms sweat and itch just
thinking about it.
	"Hey," a voice said, and Rodney stiffened.  Oh, no.  Not now.  This
was the last thing he needed.  
	"You're still working on this?  It's been hours.  I thought Dr.
Sheppard said it would take weeks to fix.  So it doesn't matter how
many all-nighters you pull, Rodney, those guys are still going to be
hanging around here for a while."
	Rodney got up without saying a word, and then, completely ignoring
Sheppard, picked up some tools and headed back to the QDD.
	"Rodney?" Sheppard sounded bemused behind him.  "Look, I know you
screwed up and you're feeling responsible for this, but it's not a
total disaster.  Well, it's a small disaster, but not on the Arcturus
scale, for example.  No solar systems got wiped out."  
	Rodney could imagine the colonel had a stupid grin on his face when
he said that and that just annoyed him even more.  "Hello-ignoring
you right now!" he snapped, holding up a hand.
	"Ignoring me?  Why?" Sheppard asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.  
	Rodney turned around, feeling utterly exasperated.  Was the man
completely clueless?  "Are we on the same page here?" he exploded. 
"Those two men are....  The other Rodney is....  Don't tell me you're
not seriously freaked out by their relationship!"
	"Well...maybe a bit," Sheppard acknowledged.  "That's partly why
I'm here.  Look, don't freeze me out, McKay.  You're the only other
person around here who understands how weird all this is."
	Rodney gazed at him for a moment.  He had a point.  Nobody else had
a clue-not even Carson, for all his bustling attempts to be
sympathetic earlier.
	"You're right.  I'm sorry.  I'm just...finding this really hard to
handle," Rodney said miser-ably, putting his tools down.  "They look
just like us, Colonel!  I mean-nobody should have to know what they
look like from behind, or that their hair does that stupid thing at
the back, or how they sound when they're talking too fast."
	"But they're not us, Rodney-they're them.  I guess it's kind of
like having a twin brother or something," Sheppard told him.
	"A gay twin brother who wears a collar and gets off on being pulled
around on the end of a leash by his scary boyfriend," Rodney groused,
sitting down again with a sigh, feeling utterly bone weary.
	"You thought the general was scary?  I thought he was kind of
cool," Sheppard said, sit-ting down beside him.  
	"Yeah-and that's another thing.  You get the cool doppelganger
while I get the irritating one," Rodney replied.  
	Sheppard turned and gazed at him steadily.  
	"Oh, don't even say it!" Rodney snapped.
	"Say what?" Sheppard said, spreading his arms.  
	"That they're just like us.  That your doppelganger is cool and
mine is irritating because you're cool and I'm irritating," Rodney
muttered.
	"I wasn't going to say that," Sheppard said, although Rodney
thought he detected a trace of smugness in his expression.  "What I
was going to say, Rodney," Sheppard said quietly, "is that this whole
thing is strange.  Not them, per se, but the fact that this means
that there really are an infinite number of different versions of me
living out their lives in various different uni-verses.  I mean when
you think of the scale of it...it's mind blowing.  And also...kind of
humbling.  I always used to think I was unique, but now...well, I
guess I'm not."
	"You're still unique in this universe," Rodney told him.  "We were
never supposed to meet our alternate selves-the fabric of space/time
isn't constructed that way."
	"Yet the Ancients built the QDD and made it possible," the colonel
pointed out.
	"Yes, but...maybe they never got it to work properly."  Rodney bit
on his lip.
	"Rodney?"  Sheppard was looking at him intently, and Rodney
examined his hands in some detail.  "Rodney?" Sheppard asked again.
	"I don't know!" Rodney said finally.  "I'm just saying-maybe the
drawback is always that you can't send people back.  Maybe we can fix
it and maybe it'll work, but even if it does-we don't have a clue how
to focus it, or make it do what we want it to.  We might get it
working, but that's no guarantee we'll be able to send them back. 
Maybe we'll just suck more people over here.  Or maybe we won't even
get it working and we'll be stuck with these guys forever and I
seriously don't think I could stand that.  I'd have to ask for a
transfer back to Earth."
	"It won't come to that," Sheppard said firmly.  "Rodney, you have
to give these guys a chance.  Yes, I know there are some...cultural
differences, but none of that is a reflection on you.  Their
preferences aren't yours.  Their relationship doesn't say anything
about you."
	It all seemed so reasonable.  Rodney glanced up, miserably, and
looked into Sheppard's hazel eyes.  They seemed sincere-he didn't
appear to be laughing at Rodney.
	"I just...  You know, the rest of the base is going to be having a
party with this," Rodney muttered wearily.  "They'll be laughing at
me."
	"Hey-you're not the guy whose alter ego wears the tight black
leather pants," Sheppard grinned.  "If they'll be laughing at anyone,
it's me, but, seriously, I don't think they will.  Now look, I said
we'd meet them in the mess hall around seven.  Why don't you come
along?"
	"I'm not finished here," Rodney said quickly.
	"Yes, you are," Sheppard told him firmly.  "How long since you ate
something, Rodney?  You've been locked up in here avoiding everyone
since this happened.  You can't stay here for-ever and you can't
skulk around hoping to avoid two men who are on the same base. 
You're going to have to work with Dr. Sheppard-so you might as well
at least try to get to know the guy so you can have some kind of a
professional rapport with him."
	"Dr. Sheppard-  I mean, just the name..."  Rodney shook his head in
disgust.  "And he's so arrogant!"
	"Yeah, well...that seems to come with the face," the colonel said,
getting to his feet.  
	"Hah!  I am not that arrogant!" Rodney protested.
	"Sure you are," Sheppard replied.  "If the situations were reversed
and he'd sucked you into his universe, then you'd be the one making
the digs at him-and of course you both know exactly which buttons to
press to really wind each other up."
	Rodney had to acknowledge that there was some truth in that.  He
got to his feet, reluc-tantly.
	"Come on," Sheppard said, gesturing with his head in the direction
of the door.  "It won't be so bad."
	Rodney sighed and allowed himself to be persuaded, much against his
better judgment.


*                       *                       *


	The mess hall was crowded when they got there and Rodney seriously
suspected that was because everyone wanted to gawk at the newcomers. 
There was certainly a little crowd around them; Elizabeth, Carson,
Ronon, Teyla-even Radek and Major Lorne were gathered around where
the two men were sitting.  Rodney grabbed some food and then followed
Sheppard, frowning at everyone who so much as dared to glance in his
general direction.
	Rodney dumped his tray on the table and sat down beside Sheppard,
grateful at least that he had some moral support in the situation. 
He noticed that the other Rodney had changed into one of his tee
shirts-and it pained him ever so slightly to see that it hung a
little more loosely on his doppelganger than it did on him.  He also
noticed that both men had slightly wet hair and he closed his eyes
and took a deep breath, trying hard to banish the mental image of the
two of them sharing a shower together.  
	"I was just saying," Carson told Rodney and Sheppard, "that the
results of the DNA test were startling.  These two men have identical
DNA to you two.  There isn't even the slightest variation.  You are,
to all intents and purposes, exactly the same people."
	"Except for them being, you know, them and not us," Rodney said
pointedly.  "With their customs and ways and freaky lifestyles and
not our more sensible arrangements."  He glared at the other Rodney,
who just grinned at him in return.  Rodney frowned.  This was
different.
	"Well, obviously they've had different life experiences and come
from a very differently ordered universe, but on a genetic level
there is no difference," Carson pressed.  This didn't help the way
Rodney was feeling.  If these men were the same as them, then how did
that ex-plain the difference in their sexual preferences?  Rodney
took a large mouthful of food and tried to let the conversation wash
over him.  
	"I'm sorry-we should let our guests get something to eat,"
Elizabeth said.  "We got so engrossed in conversation that we got a
little sidetracked."
	"Great.  I'm starving," the other Rodney said, his eyes lighting
up.  He glanced at the general, who nodded to him, and even that
irritated Rodney.  Did the other Rodney have to get permission for
everything?  It was so demeaning!  The other Rodney got to his feet
and then paused, and looked at him.  "So, Dr. McKay-any news on the
QDD?" he asked, in a more pleasant tone of voice than Rodney had
heard from him all day.
	"It's still not working," Rodney told him grumpily between
mouthfuls of food.
	"I'll report to the lab first thing tomorrow-see what we can do
with it," the other Rodney said, turning and almost scampering over
to the food trays.
	"Yes, because once we have your shining intellect in the lab, I'm
sure it'll be fixed in the blink of an eye," Rodney muttered into his
dinner.  
	"Rodney.  Play nice," Sheppard whispered to him.  "I think he's
trying to be friendly."
	"How can you tell?" Rodney countered under his breath.  Sheppard
just glared at him.
	The other Rodney returned to the table with an enormous plateful of
food and Rodney scowled at him.
	"Seriously-even I've never been that hungry," he commented.
	"It's for both of us," the general said calmly.  "Rodney always
gets my food for me."
	"Oh, God, no," Rodney groaned, as the other Rodney sat down beside
the general.  The two men looked very relaxed and at home.  They
seemed more at ease now than they had been earlier, and Rodney
flushed deeply when he realized the probable reason why.  He really
didn't want any more of these explicit mental images taking up space
in his head so he shoveled an-other large portion of food into his
mouth and chewed on it glumly, trying to concentrate on any-thing
other than the idea of these two men having sex with each other.  
	The general started cutting up some food, took a bite, and then
offered a forkful to his husband.  The other Rodney took it with a
smile at his husband and then the general started making conversation
as if all this was a totally normal way of behaving.  Rodney
swallowed down his own mouthful of food with difficulty, his mouth
suddenly having gone dry.
	"So, we were talking to Carson earlier about our different
customs," the general said.  "And..."  he glanced around the table
speculatively, "judging by the way you're looking at us right now,
I'm figuring that we're doing something you don't normally do."
	"You could say that," Rodney snapped.  "Normally we feed ourselves.
We don't need someone else to do it for us.  We're all grown men, not
babies."
	"It's just our way," the general said, flashing an easy and utterly
disarming smile in his direction.  He gave his husband another
forkful of food and then rested his hand gently on the back of the
other Rodney's neck and stroked the ends of his wet curly hair
affectionately.  Rod-ney didn't know where to look.  It was just
so...embarrassing somehow.  He noticed that he wasn't the only one
freaked out by the blatant displays of affection between the two men.
Major Lorne looked as if someone had slapped him on the face while
Elizabeth had her best diplo-mat's face on-the one she wore when she
was trying to be friendly and non-judgmental even when she was
seriously freaked out.  Others seemed less bothered by it-Ronon was
mainly only interested in his food, and Teyla had that benign look on
her face that came from having met a lot of people from a lot of
different cultures and being familiar with and unfazed by their
different customs.  Radek also seemed to have adapted relatively
quickly and was more inter-ested in finding out about what had
happened to him in the newcomers' universe.
	"It was during the siege of Atlantis," the general told him,
shaking his head.  "God, it feels weird to be talking to you again,
Radek.  Weird and totally fantastic, of course.  To be able to see
and talk to someone who has died, it's...well, it's wonderful."  He
gave a wide and genu-ine smile, looking utterly delighted.  "Anyway,
during the siege, you and Rodney and Lewis went to an Ancient
orbiting weapons platform and tried to get it working so you could
take out some of the hive ships.  You got trapped onboard and were
killed when it was destroyed.  Rodney was really cut up about that
when he got back.  He missed you in the lab-hell, we all missed you,
Radek."  He beamed at Radek fondly.
	"We had that siege, too-about a year ago?" Sheppard said, nodding
slowly.  "So the events in our universes are similar, but not quite
the same?"
	"It would seem so," Elizabeth mused.  "We lost Peter Grodin in the
way you describe-not Radek."
	"Peter?"  The other Rodney glanced at her and then at the general. 
"Our Peter is still very much alive."  He looked at Elizabeth and bit
on his lip.  "I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he said to her.  
	Elizabeth looked confused.  "Why are you sorry for me?" 
	"Well, in our universe, you and Peter were in a relationship."  The
other Rodney shrugged.  "I can imagine how devastated our Elizabeth
would be if she lost Peter.  He's totally her right hand man and she
relies on him."
	"Really?"  Elizabeth looked stunned.  "Peter?  Me and Peter Grodin?"
	"They got together after the siege," the general told her. 
"Obviously that never hap-pened here if Peter died."
	"And also there's the fact that you people don't seem to have sex,"
the other Rodney added.  "So you probably wouldn't have gotten
together, anyway."  
	"Rodney," the general murmured in a low, reproving tone, and that
hand he had on his Rodney's neck squeezed warningly.  
	"Well, that's an interesting observation," Elizabeth said, looking
uncomfortable.
	"And there, see-every time sex is mentioned, you all go very tense
and weird," the other Rodney added, munching heartily on a mouthful
of food.
	"Did you actually want to go to bed hungry?" the general growled at
him.  "Because right now I'm not feeling inclined to give you any
more food."  
	Rodney stiffened-the general got to decide what and how much the
other Rodney got to eat?  That was such a horrible thought that he
jammed some of his own meal hurriedly into his mouth almost as a
reflex action against the notion of it being forcibly taken away from
him.
	"I'm sorry."  The other Rodney nuzzled against his husband
apologetically.  "I honestly didn't mean that to be insulting.  I
just find it curious, that's all.  I mean, are you people all  
single?"
	The Atlanteans exchanged glances.  
	"Well, I guess we are, yes," Elizabeth replied.  
	"Which would explain the level of stress on this base," the other
Rodney commented.  "I mean, all that sexual tension!"
	"We're not stressed.  We're here to do a job, not spend our lives
rutting like rabbits!" Rodney snapped, unable to bear it.
	"No, you don't seem remotely stressed to me," the other Rodney told
him calmly with an ironically raised eyebrow.
	"We're getting the impression that your society is a bit more open
about sexual relation-ships than ours," Elizabeth interjected
smoothly.  
	"So-you've been fighting the Wraith, just as we have," Ronon cut
in, in that deep, gruff voice of his, clearly uninterested in all the
talk about relationships.  "Have you found a way of defeating them
yet?"
	"Unfortunately, no," the general replied with a sigh.  "I was
wondering if you'd come up with any more effective ways of fighting
them than we have.  Maybe we could swap notes?"
	"I'd be glad to show you our military reports," Sheppard told him. 
"If there is any knowl-edge we could pool, then it would benefit us
both.  Perhaps we could go through them tomorrow morning?"
	"Good.  Yes.  Thank you, Colonel."  The general nodded thoughtfully
and Sheppard looked kind of proud and pleased with himself.  Rodney
could understand that-there was something about General Sheppard; he
just made you want to impress him, to be noticed by him, to get a nod
of approval from him.  He was so effortlessly cool.
	"I was wondering-you two seem to have a complex hierarchy when it
comes to chains of command and law and order," Carson mused.  "Is
your entire universe like that?"
	"Complex?  I don't know about that," the general said.  "Your
society seems way more complex to me.  Ours is relatively
straightforward.  Once you've figured out your power dynamic and
preference, it's relatively easy to fit into our society.  Of course,
figuring it out isn't always easy.  God knows I had my difficult
teenage years when I didn't know what I was or what I wanted and I
got into a lot of trouble while I figured it out, but eventually you
grow into yourself somehow."  He glanced at his Rodney and grinned. 
"Even Rodney figured it out eventually."
	"Yeah.  With some help from you," the other Rodney said, smiling
fondly back at his husband.  "Before he came along, I was a basket
case.  Totally screwed up."
	"And that's different to what you're like now how?" Rodney raised
an eyebrow of his own back at his nemesis.  
	The other Rodney refused to rise to the bait, though.  He
just...giggled.  There was no other word for it.  He giggled.  His
face creased up, and he made a little gurgling sound at the back of
his throat.  All the Atlanteans around the table gazed at him,
surprise etched on their faces at such a very un-Rodneylike sound
emerging from the other Rodney's mouth.  The gen-eral grinned, and
tickled his Rodney's neck affectionately, then leaned over and kissed
his ear.  
	Rodney wished the earth would open and swallow him whole.  Did they
really need to be so overt about their relationship?  There was just
no way you could ignore the fact that these two men were besotted
with each other and that made Rodney glance sideways at Sheppard,
only to find that Sheppard was glancing uneasily back at him, and
they both exchanged discom-forted looks.  
	"It's completely different," the other Rodney said eventually,
still giggling a little.  Rodney noticed that the giggle appeared to
be infectious as Elizabeth, Carson and Radek were all grin-ning away
madly as well.  "Before I met John, I couldn't figure myself out at
all.  Tried to top, tried to bottom, tried to switch.  Nothing seemed
to work for me.  The thing was, I never met a top who was smart
enough to handle me until John came along and I knew it.  I ran rings
around them all.  But, John-well, John had me all figured out in that
quiet way of his and before I knew it...."  The other Rodney shrugged
and slapped his hand down hard on the table, making Rodney jump. 
"Bam.  He had me over his knee and eating out of his hand.  Literally-
in both cases."
	"Oh, God.  That's way too much information," Rodney growled,
struggling to suppress another one of those irritatingly persistent
mental images.
	"I think it's interesting," Elizabeth said brightly, in a slightly
forced tone.  "Carson was saying that your whole society is
structured around these power relationships?"
	"Yes, we got a bit freaked out earlier when he told us you punish
people in your society by locking them away.  We find that a bit
barbaric, to be honest," the general said.
	"But your society uses physical chastisement-we find that equally
barbaric," Elizabeth replied, looking a little stung.  
	The general shrugged.  "I suppose it's a matter of perspective," he
said.  "Our way at least keeps people in their homes and jobs, while
at the same time ensuring they do receive a penalty for any
wrongdoing.  It's not perfect, but it works for us."
	"So what happens-you get to punish Dr. Sheppard when he does
something wrong?" the colonel asked.  
	Rodney clenched his fists tightly around his cutlery and thrust
another large forkful of food into his mouth and began chewing
savagely on it, more as a way of distracting himself than because he
was actually hungry.
	"Yeah."  The general nodded.  "I've given him a few pretty hard
spankings when he's been out of line."
	Rodney spat out the mouthful of food he was eating, much to
everyone's general amusement.  "I sincerely hope this isn't giving
anyone around here any ideas," he spluttered.
	Elizabeth grinned at him and patted one of his hands
affectionately.  "Don't worry, Rod-ney," she said with a little
laugh.  "Nobody is going to spank you."
	"Although we've all had our moments of wishing we could," Carson
muttered.  
	Rodney glared at him.  "You're supposed to be a doctor and against
harming people on principle," he said stiffly.
	"I'm just saying, it seems to work okay for these nice people,"
Carson teased, with a wide grin.
	"It's all just...completely crazy," Rodney growled.  
	"It's how our universe works.  Always has," the general shrugged. 
"I don't actually un-derstand how your universe works.  You must need
so many rules to govern all your interac-tions.  Things are much
simpler where we come from."
	At that moment, Colonel Caldwell came over to their table, bearing
a tray of food.  
	"Excuse me-can I join you?" he asked politely, his eyes flickering
over the new John and Rodney with a look of fascination.  
	Rodney sighed.  He guessed there wasn't anybody who didn't know
about the newcom-ers by now.  He suspected that total strangers could
gate in from the furthest reaches of the Pegasus galaxy and know
about it within 30 seconds of arriving.
	"Of course, Colonel!  Good to see you!" the general said.  "I was
wondering when you were going to show up."
	"Uh...I have a meeting...with some other people...back in the...my
place...you know...the, uh, infirmary," Carson said hurriedly.  
	Rodney frowned at him, wondering what the hell his problem was, but
Carson was so eager to be gone that he almost knocked over his chair
as he scrambled out of the mess hall.
	Rodney decided he didn't want to stay for much longer, either. 
Despite what Colonel Sheppard had said about not pulling an all-
nighter, he knew that was exactly what he was going to do.  There was
no way he was going to allow his doppelganger into his lab tomorrow
without having a much better handle on what exactly was wrong with
the QDD and how to fix it.  


*                       *                       *


Part Three:  Awakenings


	Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard arrived at his desk a couple of
hours early the next day, anxious to have time to prepare for his
meeting with the general.  He wasn't sure why he was feeling so
apprehensive, but he did know that there was something about the idea
of spending a few hours in the company of his alter ego that both
unnerved and excited him.  The truth was, and John was barely able to
admit this even to himself, but General Sheppard was exactly the kind
of man he'd once wanted to be.  He didn't know when he'd lost touch
with that ambition, or why, but seeing the general striding around
Atlantis, so sure of himself and his place in the universe, whichever
universe he happened to be in, had brought some uncomfort-able
emotions to the surface for John.  It was hard to put his finger on
it exactly-he just knew that he didn't want the general to find him
disappointing.  He wondered if everyone felt like that around the man
or whether it was just him because they shared the same face and
name.  Did people look at him like they looked at the general?, John
wondered.  Did they strive to impress him and do their best to get a
word of praise from him the way he wanted praise from the gen-eral? 
Somehow he doubted it.  He knew his people liked and respected him,
but he also knew that he wasn't in the same league as General
Sheppard and he wondered why.  What had hap-pened in the general's
life that had rendered him so at ease with himself?  He looked like
the kind of man who'd never made a wrong decision, and even though
John doubted that could be entirely true, he envied him the
appearance of it all the same.
	John disliked paperwork.  He got it done, but he was rarely up to
date with it so most of his files were a mess-except the ones on the
Wraith.  Protecting his people motivated John far more than filing
equipment inventories, drawing up staffing rotas and conducting
personnel ap-praisals.  He was relieved that at least he'd be able to
show the general a clean set of military reports, neatly filed and up
to date; he just prayed the general wouldn't ask to see anything else
and even that surprised him a little.  Since when had Lieutenant
Colonel John Sheppard cared what anyone thought of him?  
	John spent a couple of hours making his office and his files as
respectable as possible, and had them in some kind of shape by the
time the general knocked on his door.  John called him in and then
paused, finding himself seriously fazed because the general was
wearing his uniform.  His identical uniform.  The leather pants,
tight tee shirt and vest were gone.  He'd still retained those little
quirks that were presumably customary in his universe-the pendant
around his neck, the silver earring dangling from his ear and the
impressive black leather belt around his waist from which hung an
assortment of different objects-but apart from that, there was no
difference.  
	"Can I come in?"  The general paused in the doorway, looking at
John with a quizzical expression on his face.
	"Uh...yeah...I...  Sorry.  Damn, but you look just like me," John
said, with a little laugh.
	The general grinned.  "It's the clothes.  Thanks for them, by the
way.  They fit just fine and it's good to have something clean to put
on.  I even managed to persuade Rodney to wear those pants of Dr.
McKay's this morning."
	"Ah.  I'm guessing that wasn't easy," John grinned.
	"An understatement," the general grinned back.  "In the end, I
resorted to taking his own clothes down to the laundry while he was
in the shower so he had no choice."
	"I'm surprised I didn't hear the yell of protest all the way from
here when he found out about that," John chuckled.  
	The general laughed.  "Yeah.  He wasn't happy," he said, shaking
his head.  
	"Uh...now, perhaps I'm not understanding the rules of your society,
but couldn't you have just ordered him to wear them?" John said
carefully.  He was intrigued by the way things worked in this
alternate universe.  Everything about it seemed strange to him, and
from what the gen-eral had said, he found everything equally strange
about John's universe.
	"Ah, well, yes, I could," the general nodded.  "But I prefer to
save that kind of thing for when it's really important.  There are
ways to make things happen without throwing your weight around.  At
the end of the day, he knows that what I say goes, but there's no
point making every single minor issue a battle of wills.  It'd be
exhausting, apart from anything else, and also...I love him.  I don't
want to squash him."
	John nodded, completely not understanding.  Maybe this was just
another example of how the general seemed to be so effortlessly at
ease with his own authority.  He didn't have to assert himself
unnecessarily because he was so sure of himself.
	"Would you like some coffee?" John offered.
	"Yeah, black, one..."
	"One sugar, I got it," John grinned.  "I figure we both like our
coffee the same way."  He handed the general a coffee and the other
man took it, grinning back at him.
	"You figured right, then."
	"Anyway, I flicked through some of the mission reports and pulled
out the ones that seemed most relevant," John said, gesturing to the
general to sit in the chair beside him.  "It'll be interesting to see
how many things happened the same way in our different universes. 
Perhaps we could compare notes.  You might have done something
different to us that worked better than what we did, or vice versa."
	"Sure."  The general nodded slowly, taking a bunch of files and
leaning back in his chair.  
	John leaned back in his own chair and then they both,
simultaneously, swung their long legs up onto the desk.  Then, taken
aback at the mirroring, they glanced at each other and laughed.
	"Damn, but this is weird," John said.  "I told Rodney it was kind
of like having a twin brother, but it's still weird to acquire one as
an adult."
	"Damn weird.  We even have the same mannerisms," the general said. 
"I'm glad to hear you spoke to Dr. McKay about this situation we're
in," he added thoughtfully.  John raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  "I
understand that you and he are not together in this universe, and Dr.
Beckett was kind enough to explain that your people have some taboos
about same gender re-lationships, so I completely appreciate that
things are very different for you, but...."  He broke off with a
shrug.  "It's just sad to see him like this, that's all."
	"Like what?" John asked, frowning.
	"Alone.  Lonely."  
	"Oh, Rodney's fine."  John waved his hand around airily.  "Yeah, he
can be snippy, but he's like that with everyone.  That's just him."
	"No.  It isn't," the general said.  "He's like that because he's
lonely.  I know because that's what my husband was like when I first
met him."  
	"Your Rodney is still pretty snippy," John pointed out, feeling a
little stung.  
	"Only with your Rodney," the general replied sharply.  "And I think
that's because he really hates being reminded what he was like.  And
of course he's also pretty stressed out about our current situation,
but I think I've taken care of that and he's calmed down now.  Your
Rodney doesn't have anyone to look out for him, though-there's nobody
to calm him down."
	"Oh, there's nothing wrong with Rodney!" John replied, more
forcefully than he'd in-tended.  "He's not lonely.  He's just a
workaholic who never gets laid and exists in a state of more or less
permanent high stress.  That's the way he likes it.  Well, apart from
the not getting laid thing probably, but he's fine.  You make it
sound like he's about to have a nervous break-down or something."
	"No...nothing like that.  I just wish he was happy," the general
said softly.  "Tell me, Col-onel-John-it seems so weird to me that
you and I would look so alike, and have the same mannerisms even down
to the way we like to put our feet up on the desk when we're reading-
and yet we seem to have very different feelings.  Can you honestly
tell me that you've never thought about Rodney as a potential-"
	"No!" John interrupted firmly, feeling himself flush.
	"You have to have noticed how incredibly cute he is.  The bright
blue eyes, the attitude, the intelligence and, of course, that great
ass."  The general grinned.  
	John swallowed hard.  In all honesty, he had noticed all those
things about Rodney, but never in a focused way.  He didn't spend his
time sitting around thinking about it, but there were times when he'd
looked-and then looked away again, dismissing the thought as idle
sexual speculation, not something to be taken seriously.  This was
Rodney they were talking about, after all, and although John had had
plenty of sexual experiences with other men, he'd never had a
relationship with one.  It was too much hassle and had never been
worth it in terms of his career, apart from anything else.  He liked
women, too, and that was a much easier path to go down.  Was that
just society's conditioning?, John wondered.  Because the general's
people seemed to be comfortably bisexual.  
	"So you have noticed," the general murmured, those hazel eyes of
his missing nothing.
	"Yes.  Okay.  I've noticed," John replied in a strangled tone,
wishing fervently that they weren't having this conversation.  "But
this is Rodney we're talking about here.  I'd never go there.  He'd
probably shoot me with my own gun if I even tried.  Trust me, we're
not as alike as you think, General.  Rodney is seriously
uncomfortable with the relationship you and Dr. Shep-pard have.  It's
not something he wants in his own life."
	"Maybe he's uncomfortable because it is," the general said softly.
	"No."  John shook his head.  "Really.  No.  There is simply no way
that's what's going on in Rodney's brain right now.  Mainly, what's
going on in Rodney's brain is that he's really pissed off that he
fucked up and brought you here and he really wants to send you back
to where you came from ASAP.  There's not a whole lot else going on."
	"You know him pretty well, then?"  The general smiled.
	"Rodney's an open book," John said with a shrug, taking a sip of
coffee.  "You can pretty much tell everything he's thinking by
looking in his eyes...although that's less helpful than it seems,
because mostly what he's thinking about is food!"  He grinned.
	"Oh, yeah.  Ain't that the truth."  The general grinned back at
him.  "Or sex, of course," he added, and grinned again when John
choked on his coffee at that.
	"So, back to business," John said in a bright tone when he'd
recovered.  "Mission re-ports."
	They worked for a couple of hours, comparing notes as the general
read through the re-ports.
	"So in your universe you found a ZPM on Dagan.  We searched there,
but didn't find anything."  The general shook his head.  
	"Ah, yeah, that was the Indiana Jones mission," John grinned.  "Not
that finding it did us any good because we didn't get to keep it."
	"Of course, your Rodney had the incentive of Acastus Kolya holding
you hostage to help motivate him," the general muttered grimly.  
	"Kolya didn't show up in your universe?" John asked.  He'd often
thought how much eas-ier that mission would have been without Kolya,
but the general was telling him they'd never even have found the ZPM
if Kolya hadn't come along and given Rodney an incentive to be more
brilliant than usual.
	"No, Kolya didn't show up in my universe because Kolya was dead,"
the general said grimly.  "I killed him myself."
	"You killed him?"  John turned, startled.  The general had gone
very still, and his body was taut.  "When?  Why?" John asked.  
	"Why?" the general said, in a surprised tone, as if it was obvious.
"He touched Rodney," he growled.  "During the big storm-he took a
knife to Rodney's arm and scarred him for life with his mark.  He put
his mark on my husband.  He hit him, held him prisoner away from me,
and he hurt him."  The general looked absolutely outraged and John
was unprepared for the other man's vehemence.  "You think I'd let him
live after that?" the general growled, in a hard, cold tone that sent
shivers up John's spine.  "I followed him through the Stargate and
killed him with my own hands in a fair fight in front of his people. 
I think that sent a message to the Genii that nobody hurts anything
of mine and lives to boast about it.  They haven't troubled us again
since."
	"Right.  Okay."  John nodded slowly.  Just when he'd been feeling
at ease with the guy, the general showed a darker side than John had
hitherto glimpsed.  He suddenly had the feeling that this man was
really not to be messed with-or, perhaps more to the point, Dr.
Rodney Sheppard was not to be messed with-because if anything
happened to him, John had the feel-ing that the general would go
ballistic, and his revenge would most likely be short, to the
point... and fairly brutal.
	They flicked through some more mission reports, and then the
general paused, deep in thought.
	"I'm wondering-as your Rodney found that ZPM-did he also have any
luck with the Arcturus weapon, or didn't you encounter that?"
	"No, we encountered it all right," John sighed, throwing his
counterpart a file.  "There you go."
	"Man, what a fuck-up that mission was," the general said, flicking
open the file.
	"For us, too," John told him.  
	"Ah."  The general read through the file, quietly, one finger
playing with the pendant around his neck as he did so.  When he'd
finished, he looked up, shaking his head.  "Well, that's pretty much
what happened in our universe too," he sighed.  "Half a solar system
blown away and we were lucky to get out of there in time."
	"You agreed to allow your Rodney to work on the weapon, then?" 
John had always re-gretted allowing Rodney to talk him into that one,
and he was pleased to hear that his counter-part, for all his air of
being totally in command of any given situation, had also tripped up
on that occasion.
	"Yes," the general sighed and then he glanced sharply at John. 
"But it says here you agreed, too.  What did he say to convince you?"
	"Some stuff about trust and having faith in his abilities, yada,
yada, yada, and then he threw in something about him winning the
Nobel prize...and he just looked so kind of...well, you know what
Rodney's like.  He was like a really determined and over-eager puppy
with extremely sharp teeth and he just wouldn't take no for an
answer.  I suppose on some level, also, I really wanted to be
convinced because that weapon sounded really cool, although I'm still
kicking my-self about that.  How about you?  Did your conversation
with him go the same way?"
	"Yeah, pretty much by the sounds of it.  Although my Rodney also
threw in a truly spec-tacular blow job for good measure," the general
said and then he grinned when John pulled a 'too much information'
face.  "Your Rodney must be pretty damn persuasive if he managed to
convince you without the benefit of a blow job," the general
commented.
	"Well, you know Rodney," John shrugged, wondering what a truly
spectacular blow job from Rodney would be like and then catching
himself wondering and shrugging the thought quickly away.
	"Anyone would think you had a soft spot for him," the general
murmured.
	"Nice try, General, but we're not going there," John replied.  "And
I wish he hadn't damn well persuaded me.  That decision still keeps
me up at night.  How about you?"
	"It doesn't give me sleepless nights-although I can't say the same
for Rodney," the general said softly.  "My Lady Elizabeth really
wasn't happy about that one."  He gave a little grimace.  
	"Yeah, ours wasn't thrilled, either.  She gave Rodney a chewing out
half the base heard."
	The general frowned.  "Maybe that's why it still occasionally keeps
you awake at night, then," he murmured.  
	John glanced at him questioningly, trying to figure out what he was
getting at.
	"Well, you supported Rodney-so surely some of the fallout should
have come your way when it all went wrong?"  
	The general raised an uncompromising eyebrow and John didn't know
how to respond to that.  He hadn't thought of it that way.  He was
saved from having to reply by a knock followed by a flurry of
activity at the door as the two Rodneys tumbled excitedly into the
room.  Now that they were dressed identically John had to take a
moment to tell them apart-the likeness really was uncanny.  His task
was made even harder by the fact that neither of them would keep
still and they kept finishing each other's sentences.  
	"We think we know how to fix the QDD!" one of them announced.
	"Of course it isn't simple.  What happened was that during
transport the energy ex-change was so great that the internal
crystals were obliterated," the other said.
	"Completely burnt out," the first one continued.
	"Which sounds bad..."
	"And in fact is bad..."
	"And at first we weren't sure whether we'd be able to repair them
or not...."
	"We looked at them for hours and then we decided we couldn't repair
them...."
	"Even two brains working at our level of genius can't repair
crystals that damaged...."
	"Although if anyone could have repaired them, it would have been
us...."
	John glanced at the general to find the other man glancing back at
him, looking as com-pletely bemused and stupefied as he was feeling. 
If having one Rodney around was both ex-hilarating and faintly scary,
having two pacing around the room, both of their hands flailing madly
as they spoke at top speed, was positively disorienting.  
	"So we need to find some new crystals...."
	"Sounds easy.  Isn't..."
	"We checked through an inventory of everything we've found on
Atlantis since arriving and there aren't any crystals of the exact
shape and energy type we need..."
	"We could modify some but that would be time consuming..."
	"But...then I remembered there was this planet we went to about 5
months ago, PBX-250-"
	"Hang on!" the general said, finally managing to get a word in
edgeways.  "PBX-250-wasn't that the planet with the really unfriendly
aliens?  The ones who wanted to tie us up and sacrifice us to their
gods?"
	"Yes, yes, yes!" his Rodney said impatiently-John had identified
him by his slightly longer hair and the glimpse of his leather collar
beneath his shirt.
	"As I recall, we barely got away with our lives last time.  What
makes you think it would be different in this universe?"
	"Maybe they don't worship the same gods in this universe?" the
general's Rodney sug-gested.
	"Unlikely," the general snorted.  "The colonel and I have just been
going through their mission reports.  Things seem to happen pretty
much the same, with just a few minor details changing."
	"Well, it's worth a try!" both Rodneys said at the same time.  
	"Okay, pipe down here.  It's hard enough concentrating on one of
you, let alone both of you," the general said.  "You-Rodney-sit down
and shut up for a second.  You-Dr. McKay, could you finish explaining
this, please?"
	The general's Rodney sat down with a dramatic sigh and a little
pout in his husband's direction.  The general reached out a lazy arm
and cuffed the back of his head affectionately in response.  That
left their own Rodney taking center stage-something he looked happy
about, as usual.
	"According to Dr. Sheppard here, Planet PBX-250 used to be some
kind of Ancient out-post," Atlantis' Rodney said, puffing up his
chest as he held forth.  "The people who live there now are primitive-
as evidenced by the whole human sacrifice thing-but if we can get
around them, then there is Ancient technology just littered around
the place.  Dr. Sheppard said there was a large chamber, sunk deep
into a mountain rockface, where he definitely saw crystals of the
kind we need-and all kinds of other stuff.  There might even be a
ZPM!" he said excitedly.  "Not that that would help with the QDD, of
course, but..."
	John closed his eyes and tried to concentrate-there were far too
many acronyms being casually thrown around in this conversation.  
	"But a ZPM would be very useful for 101 other things on Atlantis!"
the other Rodney fin-ished excitedly, clearly unable to keep out of
the conversation.  The general cuffed him lightly on the back of the
head again.
	"Shh.  It's hard enough following one of you, let alone both," he
growled.  
	The general's Rodney grinned back at his husband.  "John-this is do-
able!" he ex-claimed.  "We could gate over there, grab the crystals,
gate back, install the crystals in the QDD and be home in a couple of
days."  
	"Is that true?" John said, turning to his own Rodney for
confirmation.  "Is it that simple?"
	"Well, theoretically, yes," Atlantis' Rodney replied.  "Although
the crazy religious cult people might not be so keen on us stealing
their stuff."
	"They're not using it!" the other Rodney protested.  "They don't
even know what it's for!  It's just lying around, underfoot!"
	"Rodney, last time we went there, they nearly barbecued us," the
general pointed out.
	"But we do have the advantage of the fact that you've been there
before so you know what to expect," John said slowly.  "And also
we'll have the benefit of surprise-you've been there but we haven't-
so they won't know anything about us and they won't be expecting us. 
If we plan it right..."
	"I could draw up some maps and we could talk about how we deployed
our team," the general said slowly.
	"If we went in prepared, with a clear mission objective and the
right equipment..."  John continued.
	"Hah!  And they thought we were confusing when we did that," the
general's Rodney said, his eyes gleaming.  "So?"  He looked at the
general expectantly.  "Is it a 'yes,' John?"
	The general glanced at John who sighed and held up his arms in
surrender.  "It's the over-eager puppy dog thing, like I said," he
muttered.
	"Yup.  They're just so persuasive.  Even without the truly
spectacular blo..."
	"Uh, yes!" John told the Rodneys, interrupting the general before
he could finish that sentence.  "We'll need to run it by Elizabeth,
of course, but I don't think she'll object, so it's a yes."
	"When do we set off?  I could be ready in an hour," his Rodney said.
	"Tomorrow will be fine, Rodney," John told him, with a roll of his
eyes.  "I know we want to send these people back home as soon as
possible, but we do have some planning to do be-fore we set off."
	"Fine.  Okay.  Fine.  We need to do some preparation, in any case,
because the housing was burnt out during the transfer.  It'll need
..."  The Rodneys continued their discussion as they walked back out
of the door.
	"Well, at least they seem to be working together okay," John said
once the two Rodneys had left.
	"Yeah-for now at least.  I guess there's nothing like a good
intellectual puzzle to keep them both out of mischief, and away from
each other's throats.  Now, let's get working on that plan," the
general said, clearing a space on the table.


*                       *                       *
	Several hours later, John left his office, rolling his head from
side to side and getting a satisfying crack in response.  He could
feel the usual pre-mission excitement building in the pit of his
stomach and was actively looking forward to the following day. 
First, he had to run a cou-ple of errands, though.  He stopped by the
practice room first and found Ronon there, as he of-ten was, sparring
with a couple of volunteers.  John beckoned him over.  He and the
general had already gone over the mission plan with the big man, but
there were some private orders he wanted to give him.
	"Listen, tomorrow I want you to stick to Rodney Sheppard like
glue," John told him.  
	Ronon gazed at him dispassionately, assessing that comment.  
	"Got that?" John asked.  "I want you to be his personal bodyguard-
make sure that nothing happens to him.  I don't want a hair on his
head harmed."
	"Very well," Ronon nodded, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly in
unspoken query.  "Just Rodney Sheppard-the other Rodney?  Not our
own?  Not the general?"
	"Nope.  The general can take care of himself and our Rodney always
seems to manage just fine."
	"You think that the other Rodney is a weak link?" Ronon frowned.
	"No.  Not at all.  I just know that if anything happens to him, the
general will go ballistic and that's a complication we can do
without.  Understood?"
	"Understood."  Ronon nodded his head thoughtfully.  


*                       *                       *


	His next port of call was the lab.  It was late, but Atlantis'
Rodney was still working, as John had known he would be, lying on the
floor gazing up at the underside of the QDD.  There was no sign of
the other Rodney-or, in fact, anyone else-but John wasn't surprised
by that.  They'd been working in here since the crack of dawn and he
doubted Rodney had taken any breaks, save for a couple of minutes to
snatch some food which he'd have undoubtedly stuffed down his face
while still working.  All the others were either too sensible to work
such long hours, or less personally invested in the problem.
	"McKay, time to turn in," he said.
	Rodney glanced out from underneath a pile of burnt-out crystals and
various bits of housing, looking befuddled by the interruption.  John
noticed the dark smudges under his eyes and the weary lines around
his mouth.
	"Not yet.  It's still early," Rodney said.  
	"It's nearly eleven," John pointed out.  "And we're leaving at six
tomorrow."
	"Eleven?  I never usually turn in before one," Rodney said
brusquely, returning to his work.
	"Well, you will tonight," John told him firmly.  
	"Oh, I'm sorry-for a moment there I assumed you were the general
mistaking me for his slaveboy with all the ordering around that's
going on," Rodney snapped.  
	John felt his eyes narrowing and he gazed at Rodney for a moment. 
He knew for a fact that the scientist had worked all through the
previous night, and he had learned to read Rodney very well since
they'd all arrived on Atlantis.  The scientist could get by on very
little sleep, but when he did he was snappy, and his reaction times
were slower, and John didn't want to risk that on the mission the
following day-especially if the natives were as unfriendly as he'd
been told.
	John decided not to take no for an answer.  He reached out and
waved his hand in front of the light panel, plunging the room into
darkness.
	"What the hell are you doing?" Rodney demanded.
	"Turning off the light so you can get to bed," John replied
sweetly.  "And..."   He thought about it for a moment, heard a
satisfying mental click, and then grinned.  "I've kind of told the
city not to turn it back on again for a few hours," he added.  "I
doubt you'll be able to over-ride that particular command, Rodney."
	"Oh, for God's sake!"  Rodney slid out from where he was working
and bumped his head on the underside of the housing as he sat up. 
John winced.  "Ow!  Dammit, that's your fault and this is
ridiculous!" Rodney told him, charging across the room and trying the
light switch, any-way.  The room remained resolutely dark.
	"Sorry."  John crossed his arms over his chest and stood there
impassively, waiting for the torrent of complaints.  He wasn't
disappointed.
	"I have work to do, Colonel, and I should point out that I'm Head
of Science here, not you, and I can work whatever damn hours I want
to.  I don't tell you how to run the military op-eration here and I
don't expect you to interfere with my work.  Now turn the bloody
lights back on again!" Rodney ranted.
	"Nope."  John remained where he was.  Rodney was so close to him in
the dark room that he could see the angry flash of his eyes as he
spoke, but John wasn't going to back down on this one.  "I'm sorry,
Rodney, but I want you rested before we gate into the arms of these
sacrificial cultists tomorrow.  It won't be an easy mission and I
need you to be alert."
	"When have I ever not been alert during an offworld mission?"
Rodney snapped.
	"Look, Rodney," John said, in a softer voice, leaning in close,
"you've been under a lot of strain these past couple of days and you
need the rest.  Why are you fighting this?  You're clearly exhausted-
you look like shit-why not just go with it?"
	Rodney stood there for a moment, and he was so close John could
hear the restless, nervous movements of his hands, hands that John
had never known to be still.
	"Cute," Rodney muttered at last.  
	John frowned.  "Sorry?"
	"Your concern for my wellbeing.  Cute.  I'm very touched.  Now
you've done your duty.  Turn the lights back on again please,
Colonel."
	"No."  John's voice was harder this time.  Rodney stood there for a
moment and they were eye to eye, nose to nose, and John had a sudden,
surprising impulse to grab Rodney and kiss him, hard, on the mouth,
and make him give in.  He bit the disquieting impulse back down. 
Damn, but having the alternate Rodney and John around was giving him
the most disturbing thoughts.  The moment passed, and Rodney's mouth
settled into that hard, crooked line that John was very familiar
with.  
	"Fine," he said, in a quieter tone than John had been expecting. 
"You win, Colonel."  He grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair,
strode over to the door and opened it.  "Oh, one last thing," he
murmured.  "Who is going to be in charge tomorrow?"
	"What?" John frowned, wondering what the hell he meant.
	"You or the general?" Rodney asked, the sweetness of his tone
masking the savagery of his question.  "You're just a lieutenant
colonel, after all, and he's a general, so he outranks you."  It was
meant to wound and it did.
	"Me," John snapped at him.  "I'll be in charge-as usual.  You're my
people.  I know you and what you're capable of.  And he didn't earn
that rank in this universe, so as far as I'm con-cerned, he doesn't
outrank me.  He's just a very useful guest who's coming along with us
to help out."
	"Does he know that?" Rodney asked sweetly.  "Only...he doesn't
strike me as the kind of man who likes anyone else to be in charge." 
And with that he gave John a fierce, triumphant little look and
turned on his heel and walked away.
	John stood there for a moment, feeling like he'd been punched. 
Damn McKay for always knowing his weaknesses and where to hit-
although John knew that he'd laid down the gauntlet himself by
effectively throwing the scientist out of his own lab in the first
place.  He should have known he wouldn't get away with that without
Rodney retaliating in some way.  Rodney McKay was no pushover-and
John had come to accord the scientist a grudging respect for that.
	With a sigh, John decided that his errands weren't yet over for the
evening.  He took himself off to the room that General and Doctor
Sheppard shared and hesitated for a moment outside, wondering what he
might be interrupting.  He thought of the other Rodney, with that
endearing giggle of his, pressing himself into the general's arms,
and imagined the other John kissing him, hard, fiercely,
passionately, on the mouth, the way John had just wanted to kiss his
own Rodney.  John shook his head, trying to banish the mental image. 
These thoughts didn't go anywhere so he'd have to find a better way
of handling them.  He knocked on the door and a few seconds later the
general opened it and squinted at him blearily.  He was only wearing
a pair of boxer shorts, which he'd clearly hurriedly pulled on as his
fingers were still pulling at the waistband as he caught sight of
John.
	"Sorry to disturb you.  I just wanted to make sure we were clear on
one thing before to-morrow," John said softly, glancing over the
general's shoulder at the mound in the bed which shifted at the sound
of his voice and uncurled to reveal Rodney Sheppard.  The scientist
sat up, his eyes sleepy and his hair looking disheveled and...kind of
adorable.  John swallowed down hard.
	"Is there a problem?  Has something happened?" Rodney Sheppard
asked, sliding out of the bed.  He was completely naked and John felt
his dry throat become even dryer.  The sci-entist had a compact body,
with firm, pale flesh, and there was something utterly compelling
about his naked body.  He was unconscious in his sexuality, with the
loose, unembarrassed movements of someone both familiar and
comfortable with his own nudity.  John's eyes flick-ered down slowly
over the broad firmness of his shoulders, the tattoo on his upper
arm, the little red bite mark over one nipple, and the smooth curve
of his cock as it swung in a nest of soft brown curls.
	"Eyes front and center, Colonel," the general growled in a low,
warning tone.  
	John tore his eyes away.  
	"Rodney-either get back in bed or put some clothes on," the general
snapped over his shoulder.  "You're lucky it's you," the general told
John.  "Anyone else would be lying on their back with my fist mark on
their jaw right now for looking at my husband like you just did.  If
your interest lies there, then you have your own Rodney, remember,"
the general added softly.
	"Sorry...I didn't mean anything.  I was just startled," John said
quickly.  "There's no prob-lem, Dr. Sheppard.  I just wanted a word
with the general," John directed this comment over the general's
shoulder and Dr. Sheppard sighed and slid back into bed, but he
remained sitting up, his arms wrapped around his knees, gazing at the
door.  "I wanted to be clear on one thing to-morrow, General," John
told his counterpart.  "I just realized it wasn't something we
discussed earlier and I think it's important that it's said.  I
really appreciate your help, but these are my people, and there can
only be one person in command."
	The general gazed at him for a moment, an assessing look in his eyes.
	"I realize you technically outrank me," John began, trying to
address the other man's ar-guments before he made them.
	"But not in this universe," the general said, which had been John's
exact point from ear-lier.  John wasn't surprised about that-during
the course of the day he'd found they thought the same way on a
number of issues.  "It's all right, Colonel.  I wasn't intending to
throw my weight around tomorrow.  These are your people, however much
they might look like my own.  Besides ...I'm looking forward to
seeing you in action," he said.
	John nodded, relieved, and then he thought about that last comment
for a moment and felt his stomach clench nervously.  He wasn't sure
he wanted to be assessed by this man-or, at least, he didn't want to
be found wanting by the general of all people.  
	"Way to pile on the pressure," John grumbled.  
	The general laughed.  "I have every faith in you," he replied,
patting John's arm.  "You're me, remember?"
	"Well.  Kind of."  John shrugged, glancing over the general's
shoulder at Dr. Sheppard again.  If he was the general, then he'd
have someone that enticing waiting for him when he got back to his
quarters and not a cold, empty bed.  He wondered what it would feel
like to have a naked Rodney wrapped around his body, those restless
hands of his running over his skin, teasing and arousing him.  
	The general cleared his throat warningly.  
	"Anyway, like I said, I'm sorry to disturb you," John said, tearing
his gaze away from Dr. Sheppard again.  "Sleep well."
	He turned and left, but his footsteps didn't take him back to his
own room.  Instead he found himself walking towards Rodney's room. 
He paused outside, wondering what the hell he was doing-or intending
to do-and then, finally, he knocked.  
	Rodney opened the door a few seconds later...looking
disappointingly clothed.  He gazed at John resentfully.  
	"Come to make sure I'm actually in bed, Colonel?" he asked.  "No,
wait, you're probably here to tuck me in yourself.  Or maybe you want
to handcuff me to the bed just to be sure I don't leave.  Having the
general around seems to be having a bad effect on you."
	"I actually came to apologize for pushing you around earlier, but
you know what?  Forget it," John told him, snapped out of his mood by
Rodney's sarcasm and seriously not wanting to even consider the
enticing mental image of Rodney handcuffed to a bed.  "If you want to
work all night, then go ahead.  You're a big boy.  But if you screw
up on the mission tomorrow be-cause you're worn out, then I promise
you that you'll hear it from me, long and loud."
	"You've turned the light back on in the lab?" Rodney asked
suspiciously.  
	John concentrated for a moment and then nodded.  "Done.  But I
meant what I said, Rodney."
	"Fine."  Rodney glowered at him.
	"Good."  John stood there, wanting more than anything to wrap his
arms around Rodney and kiss him hard.  The thought of the other
Rodney's erotically compelling naked body was still running through
his mind, in an endlessly repeating loop, bringing fantasies and
emotions to the surface that John had never allowed himself to
seriously consider before.
	"Great," Rodney said.  
	They stood there for a moment, both as tense and taut as piano
wire, although presum-ably for different reasons, John thought.  He
wondered what Rodney's mouth would feel like un-der his, and whether
his body was the same as the other Rodney's.  Presumably it was,
minus the tattoo and a little softer around the middle maybe.  He
licked his lips, remembering the other Rodney's cock, smooth,
slightly curved, and beautiful, nestled in its bed of light curls. 
As for the tattoo...  John liked the idea of Rodney somehow being
marked as his, bearing his initial on his flesh, imprinted there for
everyone to see.  He could feel himself getting hard just thinking
about it...which was ridiculous, because this wasn't going to happen.
Whatever the other Rodney and John felt for each other, this Rodney,
standing here in front of him, had never given any indica-tion that
he was anything other than straight.  He was always bleating on about
his thing for blonde women in a way that John often found irritating.
Besides, he couldn't just...what, pin the scientist against the wall
and kiss him?  Rodney would scream loud enough to wake up the en-tire
city and after that John could imagine the questions he'd be
subjected to, to say nothing of a possible charge of sexual assault. 
Rodney might just be vindictive enough to pursue something like that
to the nth degree.
	John took a deep breath and the highly charged moment passed. 
"Well, then.  You can go back to work.  If you want."  He nodded in
Rodney's direction, and then turned and walked back to his own room
as fast as he could.  He was barely inside the door when he opened
his fly, grabbed his aching cock and rubbed it with a few brisk
strokes, which was all it took before he was coming, all the time
imagining Rodney McKay, his Rodney, on his knees in front of him,
that crooked mouth of his opening wide to suck him.


*                       *                       *


Part Four: Sacrifice


	After all his warnings to Rodney, John thought it was ironic that
it was he who didn't get much sleep that night.  Between worrying
about the mission and whether he'd impress the gen-eral or not, and
fretting over his disturbing fantasies about Rodney, John tossed and
turned for most of the night.  His feelings for Rodney weren't new,
but they'd never been this sharply in focus before.  Up until now,
he'd mainly viewed the scientist as an amusing pain in the ass,
someone he enjoyed being with, someone he occasionally mentally
undressed, but not some-one he'd ever seriously move in on, and
certainly not someone he'd have a relationship with.  His sexual
experiences with men had mostly been one-night stands which John had
enjoyed well enough, but not to the point where he thought he was
exclusively gay or wanted to live with another guy.  To be honest,
he'd never actually wanted to live with anyone.  He'd been a loner
for years and that was the way he'd always thought he preferred it,
but seeing the general's close relationship with his Rodney had
brought up some emotions that John had long kept bur-ied.  Maybe
having someone waiting for him when he came home would be nice.  No,
specifi-cally speaking, maybe having Rodney waiting for him at home,
naked, willing and compliant would be nice.  John sighed as his cock
immediately responded to that thought by hardening once more; he
could hardly believe he truly wanted to give up his solitary
existence for Rodney McKay, of all people, so why couldn't he stop
thinking about the scientist?
	His rational mind told him that this was just a natural response to
the unsettling way the doppelgangers behaved with each other.  Not
only were they clearly in love, but they made no pretence at hiding
it.  Their customs were just very different to those in this universe
and their ease when discussing sex and their own relationship made
everyone on Atlantis uneasy by comparison.  No wonder you're having
these unsettling thoughts about Rodney McKay, his ra-tional mind told
him, but they'll pass.  It's just a natural reaction to the
situation, just ride it out.
	However, his cock wasn't remotely interested in anything his
rational mind had to say.  His cock didn't want these emotions to
pass; it wanted Rodney and seemed to have sprung into a life of its
own around the scientist.  John jerked himself off three times during
the night just thinking about holding Rodney down and sliding into
that firm, white ass; about Rodney kneeling in front of him and
looking up at him with the same look of adoration that Rodney
Sheppard was always giving the general; about Rodney taking him in
his mouth, his big hands sliding around John's body to caress his
naked bottom....  John gave up trying to rest at around four a.m. and
took a long, cold shower, reasoning that his cock couldn't possibly
require any more attention for the rest of the night.  
	By contrast, Rodney McKay looked positively refreshed when they met
in the gateroom a couple of hours later.  John gazed at him
suspiciously, wondering whether he had actually taken his advice and
gone to bed early, despite all the scientist's protests on the
subject.  Either way, he knew better than to ask.  Rodney almost
certainly wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd done
what John had told him to, so there was no point.
	The general and his husband had reverted to their own clothes again-
John guessed they felt more comfortable in them and he was glad
because it would make it easier to identify everyone when out in the
field.
	The six of them took the puddle jumper through the gate and the
general directed John where to land.  The two Rodneys kept up a
constant stream of nervous chatter in the seats di-rectly behind him,
sniping and squabbling with each other like children in the back of a
car on a long journey.  John grinned and let the sound wash over him.
He actually liked the sniping-both the Rodneys had a biting wit and
some of their comments made him laugh out loud.  He knew that some
people-Major Lorne, for example-found their own Rodney to be a royal
pain in the ass and couldn't stand his need to provide a running
commentary on everything around them when they were on offworld
missions, but John liked it.  One Rodney was entertaining enough and
two made him crease up with laughter on occasion.  When he glanced
sideways at the general, who was sitting next to him, he got the
impression the other man had come to the exact same conclusion and
they shared an amused look.
	They landed in a field and left the puddle jumper, and John
activated the cloak, then looked around.
	"So far so much the same as most places we end up," he muttered.
	"It's exactly the same as the PBX-250 in our universe," Rodney
Sheppard beamed hap-pily.  "So that means the chamber we're looking
for is..."  He twirled around, fingers snapping excitedly, "this
way," he said, deciding on a direction and leading them forward.  
	Ronon quickened his pace a fraction to catch up with him and then
loped alongside him easily, ignoring the constant stream of chatter. 
John gave a quiet smile as he brought up the rear-he knew he could
trust Ronon to obey his orders.  
	They found the chamber set into the side of a hill and the Rodneys
spent a couple of hours fiddling around with various complicated-
looking door mechanisms until they finally gained entry.  
	John glanced around nervously as they stepped inside.  "So far, so
easy," he muttered to Teyla.  
	She shook her head.  "I agree.  It has been very easy," she
murmured back.
	"This is going great," Rodney Sheppard beamed excitedly.  "Last
time we were here, it took me almost an entire day to get into the
chamber, but this time it was quicker because I knew how.  Also, last
time someone kept distracting me by asking how long it would take-
over and over again."  He shot a sour look in his husband's
direction.  "And someone else went off to shoot something to eat
because he'd run out of power bars and that's when the crazy cultist
na-tives were alerted to our presence and showed up," Rodney Sheppard
continued, with an equally sour look in Ronon's direction.  
	The big man remained impassive.  "Isn't there another door you
should be opening?" he boomed at the Rodneys, deadpan.  
	John tried to swallow back his yelp of laughter and noticed the
general doing the same.
	"Plenty," Rodney Sheppard said with a distinct sniff in Ronon's
direction.  "This way," he announced, sweeping over to a door at the
far end of the chamber.  
	The door soon succumbed to the combined force of both Rodneys and
John left Teyla to guard the outer entrance and followed the rest of
the team in.  They walked for a long way, and then finally came to
another door.
	"How many more damn doors do we have to work our way through?" John
asked.
	"That's exactly what he said last time," Rodney Sheppard muttered,
gesturing with his head in the general's direction.  
	"I wouldn't mind if we could just walk through them, but every time
we come to one, you two have to spend an hour working on the damn
thing," John groused.
	"These doors were built by the Ancients well over 10,000 years ago,
Colonel," his own Rodney told him with a reproving look.  "They
haven't been opened since then.  You can hardly expect them to just
slide back."
	"The doors on Atlantis did when we first arrived," John reminded him.
	"These are older and were built for a different purpose, and they
have a different mech-anism," Rodney snapped at him irritably.  "Now,
are you going to shut up and let the clever 
people work?"
	John gave a heavy sigh and paced around the small, dark hallway
anxiously.  He didn't like how cooped up they were down here.  If
someone attacked them right now, then they were sitting targets.  The
Rodneys finally got the door open and they all walked into a dark
room.  
	"One of you, touch something-you have the strongest genes," Rodney
commanded, nodding at the two Johns.  
	John slid his hands onto what appeared to be a console and it
hummed into life beneath him.  The room lit up, revealing a literal
junkyard of Ancient technology, scattered all around the place.
	"My God!" Rodney McKay breathed, his eyes lighting up as they
always did when con-fronted with this kind of thing.
	"It's good, isn't it?" the other Rodney grinned at him.  "Now-over
here.  I think this was where I saw those crystals."
	The two of them worked for a while, sorting through various boxes
and examining vari-ous consoles, but to no avail.  John started to
feel antsy.  This was taking too long.  
	"How much longer?" he hissed, pacing back to the doorway and
looking out.
	"Found something!"  Rodney McKay waved his arms around excitedly. 
"Ah.  Drawback," he muttered.  The other Rodney pushed him out of the
way.  Rodney shoved him out of the way in return and the two glared
at each other.
	"Boys, boys," the general said.  "Play nice now."
	"What's the drawback?" John asked, striding over.
	"These are the crystals we want, but they're fixed into a power
generator.  We'll have to uncouple them from their housing and that
could take a while," Rodney McKay told him.
	"How long is 'a while'?" John demanded.
	"Could be anything from ten minutes to four hours," Rodney replied
cheerfully, reaching for his tools.  
	"Well, hurry," John snapped.  "I'm just...getting a bad feeling."
	"Hmm.  Me, too," the general said, turning to stare at him.
	"We haven't heard anything from Teyla for nearly half an hour,"
John murmured.
	"She's on a half-hourly check in," the general shrugged.  "No
reason why we would hear from her before then."
	"No, but..."  John touched his radio.  "Teyla," he called.  There
was no reply.
	"Okay, now I'm really worried," John said.
	"Could just be the radio," Ronon said.  "We're a long way down."
	"Yeah, but...we really need to go and investigate.  McKay, Sheppard-
get those crystals out as soon as you can.  Ronon, you stay here and
guard them.  General, you're with me," John told the other man.  The
general nodded and they both left the room at a run.


*                       *                       *


	They raced up to the entrance, matching each other stride for
stride.  It took several minutes and John's anxiety increased as they
got closer-and heard the sounds of fighting.  He turned to glance at
the general, who nodded grimly at him, and both men increased their
speed.
	They burst through the final door to find Teyla holding her own
with a pack of savages-or at least that's what they looked like to
John.  There were all dirty, smelly and clad in animal skins.  One of
them had a necklace made entirely of human teeth around his neck. 
There were also three of them lying on the ground so John guessed
this fight had been going on for a little while, and that Teyla had
been her usual proficient self.  John drew his gun, but the little
pack of savages ignored it, clearly not recognizing what it was or
what it was capable of.  John fired a warning shot into the air, but
even that failed to make an impact-and then several of the sav-ages
launched themselves at him, knocking the gun out of his hand, and
after that it was just a messy hand-to-hand fight.  
	"Why didn't you call for backup?" John asked Teyla a few minutes
later, after they had reduced the savages to a pile of groaning
bodies on the floor.
	"I tried, Colonel," she replied.  "But my radio was broken when
they took me by surprise."
	"How the hell could they take you by surprise?"  John glanced
around at the fields below them.  There was no way these savages
could have crept up on her from behind.  She had to have seen them
coming.
	"They did not come from outside," Teyla told him grimly.  "They
came from within.  There must be another entrance to the complex."
	"Damn," the general swore.  "That means-"
	"Oh, shit," John growled, tapping his radio.  "Ronon-both Rodneys-
this is Colonel Sheppard-get out of there.  You need to run."
	"We're nearly there," one of the Rodneys replied in his ear. 
"We've nearly got the crys-tals."
	"I don't care.  Leave the damn crystals.  Just get out of there!"
John commanded.
	"Just a few more minutes, Colonel," the voice said, and John knew
it was his own Rod-ney speaking.  
	"Rodney Sheppard-get your ass out of there now!" the general
growled beside him, and then the two Johns turned to face each other
as they heard a rumbling from inside the complex.  A few seconds
later, another small band of natives emerged and threw themselves on
them, screaming and yelling a battle cry.  
	John glanced around as they fought-the Atlanteans were by far the
better fighters, but the savages made up for that in sheer numbers. 
John wished he could locate his gun because that would have given
them the edge they needed, but it was lost somewhere underfoot amidst
the scrum of people.  He guessed that both Teyla and the general had
experienced the same problem-and he could have kicked himself for
wasting time on a warning shot first time around.  
	He was worried about the Rodneys, and kept glancing anxiously
towards the door lead-ing into the underground complex.  Several
minutes of hard fighting later, he heard the booming sound of gunfire
and Ronon strode purposefully into the fray.  He didn't seem to have
any com-punction about firing on the unarmed savages and decimated
their ranks with several rapid shots from his guns before the savages
swarmed over him and his guns went the same way as John's had.  
	John looked around frantically, trying to locate the Rodneys.  He
finally caught sight of Rodney Sheppard; Ronon was shielding him from
the fight, keeping their assailants away from him and John heaved a
sigh of relief that Ronon was obeying his orders.  He wondered where
their own Rodney was and presumed he was hiding out of sight.  He
could fight if he absolutely had to, but they all knew he wasn't
exactly an expert in hand-to-hand combat.  
	John was distracted for a few minutes by a man with long white hair
who had what looked like several small children's skulls hanging from
his belt and who was proving hard to take down.  John finally
dispatched him and turned again to see how the rest of his team were
doing.  He was surprised to find that Rodney Sheppard had left the
safety of Ronon's side, and was now holding his own, quite
successfully, with two opponents.  He clearly wasn't as strong a
fighter as the rest of them, but, John realized, much to his own
surprise, he was pretty damn good!  John also noticed that he was
working his way towards the general and the general was working his
way towards his husband, slowly, purposefully, each of them casting
little peripheral glances in the other's direction as they fought.  
	They were on the verge of winning when John heard a yelp behind
him.  
	"Enough!" a deep voice boomed and the savages fell back.  John
whipped around to see what the hell was happening.  He quickly
located the man who had called an end to the fight.  He was enormous-
bigger even than Ronon-and twice as fat.  One side of his face was
dyed red with what looked like blood, he wore a necklace of bones
around his throat...and he had one big arm wrapped around Rodney
Sheppard's chest while with his other hand he was pressing a long,
sharp, jagged knife against the side of the scientist's neck.  
	"Lay down your weapons or I will kill him," the man yelled, in a
deep, bone-chilling voice.
	John glanced at the general, wondering what the hell the other man
would do.  He re-membered what the general had told him about Kolya
and had a sudden vision of the general going ballistic and them all
ending up on a sacrificial table somewhere as a result.  However, the
general seemed to be surprisingly still and calm.  
	"Let him go now, and I promise you that your death will be quick
and painless," the gen-eral said, in a low, hard voice.  The big man
grinned at that and John had to admit he didn't blame him; the
general was hardly in any position to bargain, after all.
	"I could kill him with a flick of my knife before you got within
spitting distance," the big man laughed, digging his knife into
Rodney Sheppard's neck to illustrate the point.  John saw a large
droplet of blood well up into the cut and begin to trickle down
Rodney's throat.  He glanced at the general again, unsure what to do.
	"We should give them our wea..." he began.
	"No," the general interrupted him tersely.  "If we do that, then
they'll just kill us all.  Rod-ney," he called, "close your eyes."  
	John was surprised when Rodney Sheppard did just that, immediately,
without hesita-tion.  "What the hell are you...?" he started to say,
but then he saw the flashbang concealed in the general's hand.  What
happened next was so fast that it was all a blur.  
	The general threw the flashbang onto the ground, at the same time
shouting, "Now, Rod-ney!" 
	John turned away to avoid the effects of the stun grenade, but saw
Rodney Sheppard lunge forward, covering his eyes, as the flashbang
went off, momentarily blinding and deafening everyone taken unawares
by it.  At that exact same moment, the general threw the knife he had
in his other hand directly at the big man's chest, barely a few
inches away from Rodney's shoul-der.  It embedded itself there with a
satisfying thunk and the big man went down, with a rattling sound. 
Rodney tore himself away from the big man's grasp and ran towards
John and Ronon at the same time as the general started running in the
opposite direction.  The general swiftly cov-ered the distance with
his long legs, reached the big man's side and pulled his knife from
his chest, only to plunge it deeply into his belly-and then he slowly
and deliberately twisted it.  John winced as the big man howled like
an animal.  
	"You should have opted for the quick death," the general hissed as
he pulled his knife out of the man's belly.  "Nobody harms what is
mine and lives.  You were dead the minute you put your knife to his
throat."
	The other savages, still reeling from the blinding, deafening
effects of the flashbang, and surprised to find their leader so
effortlessly felled, ran away towards the trees.
	Ronon walked over to where the big man was lying and, John couldn't
help noticing, he gave the general a look of profound respect when he
reached him.  "He will take several hours to die," Ronon commented,
glancing dispassionately at the man lying groaning on the ground and
poking him with the tip of his boot.
	"I know," the general replied, wiping his knife on the dying man's
ragged hide pants to clean it.  "But I did warn him.  If he had
listened to me, then I would have made his death swift and painless,
as I promised."  He got up, and then walked purposefully back to
where his hus-band was standing, beside John.  He placed a hand under
Rodney's chin and lifted it to exam-ine the wound on his neck.  
	"All right, beloved?" he whispered softly, his eyes raking over
Rodney to see if he was injured anywhere else.
	"Fine.  Just...shaken.  I didn't even see him coming, which is
irritating because he's the size of a house," Rodney muttered.
	"Hmmm," the general said, his eyes coming to rest once more on the
blood trickling down his husband's neck.  "Hold still while I take
care of this."  
	John watched, astonished, as the general leaned forward, and,
instead of wiping the blood away or trying to stem the tide with a
cloth, he clamped one hand around the back of Rodney's head and the
other on his shoulder, pulled his husband forward, and sucked at the
wound with his mouth.  Rodney shuddered slightly in his grasp and his
hands went around the general's waist to steady himself.  John was
struck by the look of total trust in Rodney's eyes.  He hung there,
very quiet and still, while the general pressed his tongue, hard,
against his neck, stemming the bleeding.  
	"Do you think Doctor Beckett is familiar with this method of
healing a wound?" Teyla muttered into his ear.  
	"I don't think any of us are," John whispered back.  
	They carried on watching, startled, as the two men stood there-and
John could have sworn that he heard a faint humming sound.  Then the
general released his husband and gently moved Rodney's head sideways
so that he could examine the cut again.  John gazed at it in
astonishment-the bleeding had completely stopped, and the cut itself
looked smaller-and was clearly well on its way to healing.  
	"How the hell did you do that?" he asked.  
	The general didn't move, or take his eyes off his husband.  "We are
bonded.  It's Kaeira," he muttered impatiently.
	"What is Kaeira?" Teyla asked and John was glad that she didn't
know, either.
	The general frowned, but still didn't remove his gaze from his
husband.  "Energy flow, life-force," he muttered brusquely, as if
that explained everything.  Then, finally, he seemed sat-isfied that
Rodney was okay, and only then did he draw the other man into his
embrace.  He wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, every
muscle in his body taut.  
	John could feel the emotion in the embrace and wanted to look away,
but he was too transfixed by the sight in front of him.  They looked
so easy together, so right.  Rodney's body seemed to fit with the
general's, sliding against him and locking into place with the ease
of long habit.  John was surprised to find a wave of envy rising up
in his chest and he fought with it, try-ing to push it back down. 
Dammit, but it was becoming harder and harder to suppress these
emotions and he was angry with himself that it should be necessary. 
The longer the doppel-gangers were here, the more John found himself
struggling with thoughts and emotions he'd always been able to
control before.
	"Sorry about getting caught.  I thought I was getting better at
this.  I guess I'm out of practice," Rodney muttered into his
husband's shoulder.  
	The general pushed him back and delivered a heartfelt kiss to the
other man's forehead.  "Out of practice?" he asked, with a raised
eyebrow.
	"While you were away last week...I didn't exactly keep up with my
practice sessions," Rodney muttered, shame-faced.  "I was busy
working on that reactor shielding and I guess I got distracted," he
sighed.
	"Did you run, either?" the general asked.  
	Rodney flushed and squirmed, shaking his head.  "Nope.  Sorry.  The
whole distracted thing applies again there, I suppose."  
	"Hmmm.  We'll take care of it later.  Now...come here."  The
general drew Rodney back into his arms and kissed him firmly on the
mouth and John felt another pang of sharp envy.  He couldn't help
noticing the way Rodney melted against his husband, his hands sliding
around the general's body.  John was jolted out of his reverie by his
sudden realization that their own Rod-ney was not with them.  He
glanced around anxiously and tapped his radio urgently.
	"Rodney?"  There was no reply, just the faint hum of static. 
"Rodney?" he yelled, turning to look at Ronon.  "Where is he?  Did he
come up with you?"
	"No."  Ronon shook his head.  "He wouldn't leave the crystals, but
this one," Ronon nod-ded in Dr. Sheppard's direction, "he ran out of
the chamber when ordered, so I went with him."
	"You left Dr. McKay down there?" the general asked, in an
incredulous tone, striding to-wards them.
	"I was given my orders," Ronon replied, his voice even deeper than
usual, glancing at John.  
	"Orders?  What orders?  To leave a man behind?  Whose damn orders
were those?" the general snapped.
	"Mine," John said softly.  "I ordered him to stick with your Rodney
whatever happened."
	"Why?"  The general gazed at him blankly.
	"Because I was worried about what you'd do if something happened to
your Rodney.  Rightly, as it turned out."  John turned to glance
pointedly at the big man lying on the floor, his breathing coming in
rattling gasps.  John saw a gun lying beneath one of the felled
savages and he picked it up and fired it at the big man's head,
putting him out of his misery.  
	The general's expression darkened.  "Don't interfere with me or
mine again, Colonel," he hissed, standing nose to nose with John. 
"Rodney Sheppard is my responsibility.  He doesn't need any special
guarding.  I know his capabilities.  You should have paid more
attention to the safety of your own Rodney; he was your concern."
	"Let us not argue on this matter," Teyla interceded.  "We should
instead find out what has happened to Dr. McKay."
	John glanced at the general, still feeling angry, his fear and
guilt about Rodney's fate combining in his gut to create a queasy
feeling.  "You're right.  Let's get moving," he hissed, picking up
more discarded weaponry from the battlefield and then running full
pelt towards the underground chamber again.


*                       *                       *


	The door to the room with all the Ancient technology in it was open
when they got there.  John ran full tilt into the room, skidded to a
halt and looked around desperately; the room was completely empty.
	"McKay!" he yelled.  "Where the hell are you?  McKay?"
	"Colonel.  Over here," Teyla said, kneeling down.  
	John ran over to her and touched the red stain on the ground beside
her.  His fingers came back coated in blood.  
	"There's another exit," Ronon said, from the far side of the room,
kicking some boxes out of the way and revealing a door.  
	"They'll have taken him back to the village for sacrifice," the
general said grimly, striding over to the second doorway.  "Ronon,
can you track them?" he asked.  
	Ronon nodded and wrenched open the door.  
	John felt his heart thud in his chest at mention of the word
'sacrifice'.  This whole thing was turning into a nightmare and the
worry in his gut was making it hard for him to think straight.  He
followed on behind the others, his fingers closing around his gun. 
He didn't like losing any-one on a mission, but this wasn't anyone-
this was Rodney, their Rodney-no, his Rodney.  They had to get him
back because John wasn't entirely sure he could contemplate what his
ex-istence would be like without the scientist in his life.  


*                       *                       *


	"It's getting late," the general said as they emerged from a long,
winding corridor into daylight once more.  There were long shadows on
the ground and overhead the sun was sink-ing inexorably towards the
horizon.  "They always perform their sacrifices at sundown so we
don't have long.  We'll follow their tracks to the village and then
figure out what to do next.  They do have a very long sacrificial
ritual which they'll be preparing for right now, so that might buy us
some time.  Ronon, lead the way.  Rodney, you next where I can see
you.  Colonel-I want you beside me.  Teyla, bring up the rear."  
	At some point, and he wasn't sure how it had happened, or even when
it had happened, the general had assumed command, and John didn't
feel calm enough right now to wrest it back from him.  Besides, now
wasn't the time to argue about that; right now, all John cared about
was getting his Rodney back.
	Ronon soon located some tracks, and stood there, surveying them
grimly for a few sec-onds.  "He's still alive," Ronon murmured.  "We
know that, at least."
	"How?" John asked.
	"Well, firstly, why bother transporting him at all if he's dead? 
But also...there is a trail of fresh blood."  Ronon pointed to the
droplets of blood on the ground and John found his fingers curling
uselessly around his weapon again.  
	"They staked him," Rodney Sheppard said quietly, glancing at his
husband.  
	"What?"  John turned angrily to glare at the general.  
	His doppelganger sighed.  "I'm sorry, John, but Rodney's right. 
They've tied him to a stake by his hands and feet," the general told
him softly.  "That's how they're carrying him back."  
	"How can you possibly know that?" John demanded.
	"Because that's what happened to me when we visited this planet in
our universe," Rod-ney Sheppard replied.  
	John felt a tide of anger rise in his belly.  "Wait a minute, you
never mentioned this be-fore," he growled, advancing on the general,
his hands balling into fists.  
	"We told you the natives of this planet offered up sacrifices to
their gods," the general replied in a firm tone, standing his ground.
	"Yes, but you didn't say they caught Rodney-your Rodney.  You know
how what hap-pens in one universe has an uncanny knack of happening
in the other and you knew we hadn't been here.  What were the odds
that if we did, then Rodney-our Rodney-would end up the same way as
yours?" John hissed, invading the general's personal space, standing
just inches away from him.  It felt strange-disorienting-to be so
angry with someone who looked so much like himself.  
	The general didn't back away-he faced John down.  "I'm sorry.  We
didn't mean to mis-lead you," he replied.  "But we had no idea that
this would happen.  We assumed that because we'd been here before,
we'd know what pitfalls to avoid."
	"Well, it might have been useful to give the mission leader that
information," John said, his voice rising in anger.
	The general sighed.  "You're right," he said.  "But I don't
honestly think it would have made any difference."
	"At least, in our universe, John rescued me," Rodney Sheppard
interjected, looking from one John to the other with a worried
expression on his face.  "So there's a good chance it'll hap-pen the
same way again."
	"Things don't always happen exactly the same way," John reminded
him in a snarling tone.  "Radek died in your universe, remember?"
	"John, blaming us won't get Dr. McKay back," the general told him.
	"We're here, on this planet, because of you.  We put our lives on
the line for you.  
Rodney put his life on the line for you.  As far as I'm concerned,
right now I don't give a damn if you get to go back to your freaky
leatherman universe, or if you have to live out the rest of your
lives in our universe, but Rodney-my Rodney-wanted to send you home
because he feels guilty about bringing you here in the first place,"
John said, breathing heavily.  "And he's sure as hell paying for
that.  Did you want to go back so badly that you felt it was okay to
lie to us?"
	The general's expression darkened.  "We didn't lie," he growled. 
"This was a sin of omission if anything, John.  It wasn't
intentional.  We had no idea this would happen.  Now, you can stand
here and argue with me about it, or we can go and rescue your Rodney
before they slit his veins and let him bleed to death all over their
sacrificial table-and I, for one, refuse to allow that to happen."
	John glared at him for a long moment, breathing deeply, trying to
get some control back.
	"We'll get him back," the general murmured softly.  "I've done it
once and I'm pretty damn sure I can do it again.  Now, are you with
me, Colonel?"
	John had no choice-the general was their best hope of getting
Rodney back and they both knew it.  He gave a disgusted sigh and then
nodded at Ronon to get the hell on with track-ing where they'd taken
Rodney.  As they walked, John tried hard not to think about Rodney,
in-jured and alone, being tied to a stake like an animal and carried
back to some stinking village to be sacrificed.  Somehow, though, it
was all he could think about, and his anger boiled in the pit of his
stomach, hot and explosive.
	The trail led them back to a collection of mud huts which passed
for the natives' village and the sun was low on the horizon by the
time they arrived.  They hid in bushes, watching as the villagers
gathered around a large fire.  There was some kind of ritual dance
going on, and a great deal of what could have been singing, but
sounded a lot like wailing.  John edged closer to get a better look-
and then stiffened.  The mud huts were arranged in a loose circle
around a massive stone table, and on that table, tightly bound with
ropes, was Rodney.  John hoped the scientist was unconscious because
he could imagine how freaked out he'd be if he wasn't...but then
Rodney moved his head, and John bit down on his lip as he saw Rodney
blinking, a dazed, shocked expression on his face that twisted into a
moan of pain.  He was trying to pull on his restraints, but was too
tightly bound and one of his arms looked crooked and misshapen.  John
was half way to his feet when the general pulled him back down.
	"Not yet," his doppelganger told him.  "Just before the sacrifice,
they all gather around the fire to purify their sacrificial knives. 
They'll leave him alone for a few minutes then-not even a guard
because the entire village has to share in the purification ritual. 
That's when we'll make our move."
	"Knives?  Plural?"  John felt his heart skip a beat as he saw that
all the villagers were carrying small knives as they danced and sang.
Somehow he'd imagined that there would be a High Priest, and some
kind of big sacrificial knife.
	"Yes.  They take it in turns to stick a knife into their offering,"
the general said grimly.  "Every single villager joins in-even the
children.  They put their blades into the fire first, and then they
line up and each one plunges their knife into the victim as they go
by.  They sing throughout, and to prolong the whole thing they start
with the extremities-feet, hands, arms, legs.  They want him to bleed
to death slowly during the course of the night, not die with a slit
throat within the first couple of minutes."
	John honestly thought he might be sick and he doubled over for a
second, trying to catch his breath.  He felt a hand on his back.
	"We won't let it happen," the general told him in a low, hard tone,
rubbing reassuring cir-cles on his back.  "Okay, here's the plan. 
When they move over to the fire, I want you, Rodney, to go and free
Dr. McKay.  You need to get him as far away from here as possible.  I
doubt you'll get him as far as the puddle jumper-he's not in good
enough shape and I don't want you to become too far separated from
the rest of us in any case.  Take him to that big tree we passed on
the way here and wait for us there.  Teyla, Ronon, Colonel-wait until
they turn back to the sacrifice.  When they realize he's gone, make
as much noise as possible and do as much damage as possible to
distract them so that Rodney can get Dr. McKay as far away as he can.
Understood?"
	"No," John said flatly.  "I want to be the one who cuts him free." 
He honestly didn't think he could stand by and let anyone else do it-
no, it wasn't that-he didn't trust anyone else to do it.  
	"Come with me," the general said, taking his arm and pulling him
away from the rest of the team.  "You're the better fighter, John. 
We need you to be part of the distraction," he ex-plained once they
were out of earshot.
	"Rodney Sheppard will screw this up.  I should do it," John said
insistently.  
	The general put his head on one side and regarded him for a moment.
"Rodney won't screw it up.  He might bitch and whine, but we both
know that when the chips are down, there's nobody else we'd rather
have by our side.  This isn't about Rodney not being up to the task,
this is about you."
	"No, it isn't-and I'm the one who's supposed to be in charge of
this mission, remem-ber?" John growled.
	"Circumstances change, Colonel," the general snapped back. 
"Listen, John," he said, in a more conciliatory tone, "I understand
where you're coming from, believe me, but I've assumed command
because, frankly, you're not thinking clearly at the moment."
	"Bullshit.  You're assuming command because you like being in
command," John snarled.
	The general gave a little grin.  "Well, yes, I do," he nodded. 
"But that's not what this is about.  You've been fighting a war on
two fronts ever since Rodney got taken and no military commander is
at his best doing that."
	"What the hell do you mean, a war on two fronts?" John frowned.
	"One with them, the people who took Rodney, and the other with
yourself," the general told him.  "With how you feel about him."
	"Oh, fuck this," John raged.  "I've told you before, I'm not you,
General.  I don't feel any-thing about him other than that he's a
member of my team and he's in trouble right now."
	"Bullshit," the general said, echoing John's own phrase back to him
in an eerily familiar tone.  "Now you can lie to yourself, Colonel,
but don't damn well lie to me.  You are all over the place right now
and you have been since they took Dr. McKay.  I know, because I know
what that used to feel like, before I made Rodney mine and drummed a
few basic rules into him."
	That brought John up short and he thought about it for a second. 
"The crystals..."  John shook his head.  "You ordered your Rodney out
of the chamber and he obeyed while my Rod-ney stayed...."  
	"That's right.  My Rodney left the chamber immediately because I
told him to and he knows that if I make something a direct order,
then he obeys it-instantly and without question.  And if your Rodney
had done the same, we wouldn't be in this mess," the general snapped.
"Now, when we get Dr. McKay out of there-and I do mean when, not if-
then you can work on that with him, but right now we have a job to do
and I need you to follow my orders.  I know it doesn't come easy to
you because, hell, it doesn't come easy to me, either," the general
gave a wry grin, "but we're both military, Colonel, and we both know
there can only be one leader in a situation like this.  So, what's it
to be?"
	John gazed at him for a moment as the general's words hit home. 
The other man hadn't pulled any of his punches and John hated being
so easily read, but at the same time he had to acknowledge that the
general was talking a lot of sense.  
	"Okay," he said at last.  "But when we get out there, you'd better
stand well back be-cause I'm feeling pretty bloodthirsty right now."
	"I know," the general shrugged.  "They took him, and they hurt him,
and he's yours, so that hurts you.  I know exactly how you're feeling
right now, John.  You'll learn to control it-in time-the way I
controlled it when my Rodney was threatened earlier, and when we get
out of this, I'll be pleased to give you some advice on how to do
that, but for now I'm happy to just point you in their direction and
let you do your thing."
	"Good," John said grimly, turning and stalking back to where the
others were standing.


*                       *                       *


	They watched for several more minutes until the sun was hovering on
the horizon, and then the villagers all began to gather around the
fire.  The noise they were making changed, from a tuneless singing
into a sinister humming.  John's fists clenched and unclenched use-
lessly as he stood there, never taking his gaze off Rodney, who was
clearly wide awake now, and tugging frantically at his bonds as the
humming grew louder and more menacing.  
	"Hang on in there, Rodney...we're coming, we're coming," John
muttered to himself. 
	Then the general touched his Rodney's arm and John watched,
anxiously, as Rodney Sheppard slipped silently out of the bushes and
ran across the village circle towards the stone table.  The general
was right about his husband's abilities-he was quick and efficient in
his work and as soon as he reached Rodney McKay's side, he slid a
hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, turned his head so that he
could see he was being rescued, and then took his knife out and began
cutting through the ropes that secured McKay to the table.  John
watched, itching to get out there and help, every single muscle in
his body taut with tension.  The general had one eye on what was
happening and the other on John, and he put a hand on John's shoulder
to calm him.  There were a lot of ropes, and it was taking Rodney
Sheppard a long time to cut through them all, although John could see
he was working as fast as he could.
	"One of us should get out there and help him," he muttered to the
general.
	"No, we'll stick to the plan," the general told him firmly, and
John was suddenly grateful that someone was thinking clearly right
now, keeping him grounded, because he knew he was hanging on by a
thread.  
	"Now, we need to hold them off for as long as possible to give the
Rodneys a chance to escape," the general reminded the team.  "But we
can't hope to defeat an entire village.  So when I give the command,
I want you to throw your flashbangs into the melee and then get the
hell out of there and rendezvous back at the tree.  That should buy
us enough time.  Under-stood?"
	They all nodded, and John had to admit that it was a good plan, the
kind of plan he'd have come up with himself if he wasn't in some
weird place in his head right now, where all he wanted to do was grab
Rodney and hold him tight while at the same time simultaneously
laying waste to the people who had hurt him.  He was torn between the
two impulses and had never felt this out of control in his life
before.  It simply wasn't him.  He was always the calm, together one-
whatever happened, he kept a cool head, and he had no idea how to
deal with these new emotions that were currently rampaging through
him.
	Rodney Sheppard finally managed to sever the last rope, and then he
pulled Rodney McKay up.  McKay gave a little cry of pain that John
heard from his vantage point, even above the sound of the humming,
and one of the villagers turned around...and then all hell broke
loose.
	"Now!" the general commanded and John leapt into action, throwing
himself out of those bushes and towards the fire without even
thinking.  He was dimly aware of Rodney Sheppard grabbing McKay's
arm, slinging it over his shoulder and helping the other scientist
away from the village, and then John was surrounded by villagers and
he went in all guns blazing, firing at anyone who looked like they
wanted to follow the two Rodneys.  He could hear Ronon to his left
and was grateful for the big man's familiar bulk and solid ability to
hold his own in a fight.  Teyla was beside Ronon, hair loose and face
focused as she fought with her usual skill and grace.  The general
was side by side with John, fighting for all he was worth, a look of
grim determina-tion on his face, and he was good, John noted
distantly as he fought.  He knew a few moves that John himself hadn't
yet mastered, but John made up for that in sheer zeal and he knew
that he was roaring at the top of his lungs as he fought, screaming
out all the mixed up emotions that were churning him up inside. 
Ronon kept shooting him little glances of surprise-this wasn't John's
normal fighting style.  Usually, he was quiet, calm and quick-witted,
but now he was like a dervish-fast, furious and loud.  Even John
himself didn't know what was going on inside him; he just knew that
these people had tried to kill Rodney and on some level that made him
really, really mad.
	It was all he could do to bring himself to obey the general's
orders to release the flashbangs.  John just wanted to stay there and
fight, but the general positioned himself at John's side and just
before he gave the order, he cuffed John around the head to get his
atten-tion and make sure he was listening.  John threw the flashbang
reluctantly at the shrieking sav-ages attacking them and then made
his retreat, covering his ears with his hands as he ran.
	The villagers were clearly seriously freaked out by the flashbangs
because they didn't follow them.  John ran faster than any of the
others and reached the tree first, to find Rodney Sheppard crouched
down in front of Rodney McKay, talking to him urgently.  John's
Rodney was lying with his back against the tree; his skin was pale,
and John could see a dark streak of blood on his temple.
	"He's hurt," Rodney Sheppard told him.  "I'm worried he'll lose
consciousness.  I've been talking to him, trying to keep him awake,
but he can't walk and we need to get him out of here."
	"We will," the general said grimly, coming up behind them. 
"Colonel, you take one arm and I'll take the other.  Ronon, lead the
way, same formation as before-double-quick-time back to the puddle
jumper."
	The two Johns pulled the injured Rodney up and he gave a low moan
of pain as they began running, carrying him between them, his legs
dragging and stumbling as they went.  It was a long, hard slog, but
they covered the terrain in a surprisingly fast time.  John breathed
a sigh of relief as they ran across the field where he'd parked the
jumper.  He snapped the control to de-cloak it and they staggered
inside.  Teyla closed the door while the two Johns dumped Rodney at
the back on one of the bunks, then John ran for the controls and
fired up the jumper, spinning it straight up into the air.
	"Dial the gate!" he yelled at the general, but the other man shook
his head, an expres-sion of shocked resignation on his face.
	"I can't," he said.  "You'll have to land again, John.  We won't be
going anywhere tonight -the Wraith have just dialed in."
	"What?!"  John's hands faltered on the controls and he gazed at the
general in disbelief.  "No!  Seriously, after all we've just been
through, this cannot be happening!" he shouted at no-body in
particular.
	"Looks like they dialed in about ten minutes ago so I'm guessing
they're here to do a culling.  They'll keep the gate occupied for
most of the night while they feed.  There's nothing we can do but
land, keep cloaked, and wait them out," the general said.
	"Rodney needs a doctor!" John protested.
	"I can't change what's happened," the general snapped.  "Land the
damn jumper.  In a few minutes, there'll be Wraith darts crawling all
over the place."
	John did what he was told, reluctantly, and then slammed his hand
onto the console.  "Damn," he growled.  
	"Yeah.  Talk about bad luck," Rodney Sheppard said behind him.  
	"We'll just have to settle down here for the night.  Make ourselves
comfortable," the gen-eral said.

*                       *                       *


Part Five:  The Long Night


	John unbuckled himself from his console and went to the back of the
jumper where Rodney was still lying where they'd left him.
	"Are we home yet?" Rodney asked, his eyelids fluttering open.  
	John took a deep breath and sat down beside him to check over the
damage.  "Not yet," he murmured.  "We've had to make an unscheduled
stopover.  I'll get you to Carson as soon as I can, Rodney.  Now,
where does it hurt?"
	"Oh, great," Rodney sighed.  "First of all, I get skewered by crazy
people wearing animal skins and now I get to have you as my personal
physician.  No offence, Colonel, but you're not exactly Dr. Beckett."
	"Well, I'm the best you've got right now," John told him, unzipping
Rodney's jacket and sliding it carefully off the other man's crooked
arm.  
	"Ow!  No, ow!" Rodney protested and his face went a sickly shade of
green.  John man-aged to get the jacket off him and threw it onto the
bunk.  
	"His shoulder is wrenched from where they staked him," Ronon
informed them helpfully from behind, where he was watching the
proceedings with his usual air of mild disinterest.  "It should be
strapped up.  I could do that."
	"No thank you!" Rodney snapped.  "I think I'd prefer to wait until
we get back and have it done under a full anesthetic."
	"Carson probably wouldn't anesthetize you for that," John told him
with a grin.  If Rodney was complaining, then he couldn't be too
badly hurt.  He turned his attention to Rodney's face.  The scientist
had a large bruise on his jaw, and, more worryingly, a deep cut on
his forehead which was dripping blood.  John took hold of Rodney's
face in his hands to examine it and Rod-ney went still beneath him in
a way that felt oddly nice.  There was blood running down the side of
Rodney's face and John felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to lean in
and press his tongue against it to stem the tide, the way he'd seen
the general do to his Rodney earlier that day.  The impulse was so
strong that he felt himself moving, wanting to hold Rodney down and
do...some-thing...he wasn't sure what.
	"What the hell are you doing?" Rodney protested, placing a hand on
John's chest to keep him at bay, and John came to a halt, startled,
and realized that his mouth was just inches away from Rodney's
forehead.  
	"Just...looking," John said, unconvincingly.  
	"Looked more like you were sniffing," Rodney said suspiciously.
	John got up quickly and turned to the general.  "That cut is pretty
deep.  Couldn't you-you know, do that thing you did earlier?" he
asked.  "The Kaeira or whatever you called it."  
	The general gave him a surprised look.  "No.  It wouldn't work," he
said, shaking his head.
	"Why the hell not?" John asked.  "It worked on your Rodney."
	"That's because we're lifebonded," the general replied, fingering
the pendant around his neck.  "I can only heal Rodney and he can only
heal me-it's the way it works.  I can't heal just anyone."
	"Could I heal him?" John asked, glancing back at his Rodney, who
was looking very pale and was clearly in shock.
	"Not unless you were lifebonded, no," the general said.  "And I
really don't think Dr. McKay could stand that ritual right now.  He's
too weak.  Apart from anything else, it's not some-thing you can rush
into in the heat of the moment.  It takes preparation and you have to
be in the right mental place.  Also...the title means exactly what it
says.  You'd be bonded for life.  He'd be yours and you'd be his and
somehow I'm not sure you're ready for that yet."
	"What the hell are you all talking about?" Rodney muttered wearily
behind him.
	"Nothing.  Just...exploring an option," John replied, feeling angry
again, although this time he didn't even know why.  He had no
particular wish to bond with Rodney for life, whatever the hell that
entailed, but at the same time there was a part of him that liked the
thought of Rod-ney being his, completely and irrevocably.  He felt
guilty about it because Rodney was injured, but dammit, he'd liked
how Rodney had felt under him just now, when he'd held still while
John examined him.  
	"Kaeira may not be exactly what you think it is, in any case," the
general told him softly.  "I didn't heal Rodney-we just shared the
wound between us to lessen its effect.  Look."  He moved aside the
collar of his jacket to reveal a faint red mark on his neck, very
similar to the one on Rodney's neck.  
	John stared at the general, dumbfounded.  Just when he thought he
understood these men, that he was getting a handle on how it worked
between them, he went and discovered something like this-something
that showed how very different both they and their universe were.
	"We don't have that, whatever it is," John said.  "I've never heard
of that in this universe."
	"Just because you've never heard of it doesn't mean it doesn't
exist here," Rodney Sheppard pointed out.  "It worked for us, despite
the fact we're not supposed to be here.  While we're here, we're
subject to the laws of your universe, so if Kaeira was unique to our
universe, then it shouldn't be possible here, but it was because we
did it.  Not that I'm suggesting you life-bond with McKay to help him
because, frankly, the way things are between you two right now, you'd
probably end up killing each other during the bonding ritual, but..."
	"Okay, Rodney.  I think you've explained that enough," the general
cut in.
	"Just saying."  Rodney Sheppard shrugged.
	"Look, I don't care what kind of healing gizmo they've got," Rodney
said behind him, "but I'm seriously freaked out by all this talk of
lifebonding, so can you all just shut up and let me get some sleep?"
	John turned around sharply.  "No," he said firmly.  "The one thing
you can't do right now is sleep, Rodney.  You've got a concussion. 
You've been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past couple
of hours and you need to stay lucid.  I don't want you to be in a
coma by the time we get you back to Carson."
	"I really don't think it's that bad," Rodney said, sitting up
straight to glare at John with more intensity...an effect that was
ruined when his face went green and he leaned over and retched onto
the floor of the jumper.  
	John winced.  "Just sit back and don't move," he said, sitting down
beside Rodney and putting a firm hand on his good shoulder, stroking
him to calm him down.  "Ronon, get me a medical kit.  Looks like
we'll have to do things the old fashioned way," he sighed.  
	John managed to make Rodney comfortable and then he examined the
contents of the medical kit.  "Hold still and try to be a better
patient for me than you are for Carson," he admon-ished, squeezing
some antiseptic lotion onto the wound on Rodney's forehead.  Rodney
grim-aced, but held still while John cleaned up the wound and then
pressed a bandage onto it and fastened it.  The cut was deep and John
doubted the bandage would stem the blood flow for the entire night,
but it was the best he could do.
	Rodney lay back when he was done, and closed his eyes.  He didn't
look good.  
	John prodded his leg.  "Eyes open, Rodney.  You need to stay awake,
remember?"
	"Then keep me awake!" Rodney snapped.  
	John gazed around at the assembled company.  They were all tired,
hungry, disheveled and miserable and wanted nothing more than to get
back home, and instead they were stuck here for the night with a
wounded team member.  Teyla was sitting up front by one of the con-
soles, her hair all mussed up, while a muddy Ronon was lounging on
the floor, his arms loosely wrapped around his knees.  The general
and his Rodney were seated on the opposite bunk and were the only
ones who looked remotely comfortable, John thought.  Rodney Sheppard
was leaning against his husband's shoulder and the general had an arm
wrapped around him and was stroking his neck gently with one long
index finger.  John sighed and wished he could do that with his own
Rodney right now-and not be met by a hissing, snarling handful of
outraged scientist.  There was no way his Rodney would ever lean into
him like that.  He noticed his Rod-ney's eyes drooping and prodded
him again, earning an angry glare from the scientist.
	"Okay, we need to talk about something," John said.  "Anything. 
Just to keep McKay awake."
	"We could talk about what a huge fuck-up this mission was," Rodney
Sheppard mut-tered.  "Seriously, was there anyone who didn't fuck up?
I got held hostage."
	"I did not see the men who attacked us and so was not able to warn
you in time," Teyla said with a sigh.
	"I omitted to tell the colonel the full details about our own trip
to this planet," the general said.  
	John nodded to him, glad the other man was big enough to own up to
that.  John real-ized that he was actually a little bit relieved to
find that his counterpart did make mistakes.  He'd put him on
something of a pedestal and it was good to know that the man was
human after all.
	"And I gave Ronon some orders which didn't pan out too well in
practice," John replied.  
	The general nodded back at him and they shared a moment of quiet
understanding.
	"I didn't fuck up," Rodney McKay said.
	"Oh, you so did," his counterpart snorted.  "The colonel told you
to get out of that cham-ber and you didn't."
	"Yeah, well, I noticed how you hot-footed it out of there the
minute the general told you to jump, leaving me behind," Rodney
scowled.  
	"And if you'd done the same, then maybe we wouldn't have had to
rescue you," John interjected, wondering just how long it had taken
the general to drum those 'basic rules' he'd mentioned into his
Rodney and whether he'd have similar success if he tried it. 	"Oh,
great.  So this is all my fault now," Rodney griped.  "That's fine. 
Blame the dying guy.  He can't fight back."
	"You're not dying," John snapped.  "And you seem to be doing just
fine with the fighting back thing.  That head wound isn't slowing you
down any when it comes to complaining."
	"Right now, I have a lot to complain about," Rodney retorted.
	"Yeah well, join the club."
	"And what did you mean about giving Ronon some orders that didn't
pan out too well in practice?" Rodney asked.  
	John shifted uneasily.  "I told him to stick close to Dr. Sheppard,
not to leave him on his own," he muttered.
	Rodney gazed at him steadily for a moment, and then realization hit
and John was sur-prised to see a sudden burst of sheer, naked hurt
flash into the scientist's eyes.
	"Right.  Fine," Rodney muttered, gazing at John out of a pair of
wounded blue eyes.  
	John winced, knowing exactly what was going through Rodney's mind
right now and how he was convinced that he was bottom on John's list
of priorities.  The truth was so much the op-posite that John felt
winded and he gazed helplessly back at Rodney, wishing he could
explain that to him.  
	"Oh, God," Rodney Sheppard said in an undertone to his husband. 
"Honestly, it's pain-ful to watch sometimes."
	"Shh," his husband replied.  "They'll figure it out."
	"There is absolutely nothing to figure out," Rodney McKay snapped.  
	Everyone glared at everyone else.  
	"I didn't screw up," Ronon said.  Everyone glared at him.  "Well, I
didn't," he shrugged.
	"He's right," John said.  "You get the mission Gold Star, Ronon."
	Ronon sat back, looking pleased with himself.  
	"Wait, wait, wait!"  Rodney sat up too quickly, and then swayed,
the blood draining away from his face.  
	John put a hand on his arm.  "Steady, Rodney.  Take it easy."
	"I knew I didn't fuck up-I got the crystals!" Rodney said.  "In my
jacket pocket."  He clicked his fingers impatiently at John and
pointed at his jacket.  John handed it over to him.  Rodney fished
around excitedly in the inner pocket and pulled out a handful of
crystals...all of them broken.  Rodney's face crumpled.  "Damn," he
muttered.  "Must have been smashed when they knocked me out," he
said, looking utterly dejected.  "Sorry," he murmured to the general
and the other Rodney.  "Would have been good if they were okay. 
Could have sent you home within a couple of days."
	"You tried, Rodney," John told him, shaking his head.
	"And failed," Rodney said bitterly.  He lay back down again, the
shattered crystals falling from his fingers onto the puddle jumper
floor.  He looked so utterly miserable that John wished he could put
an arm around him and pull him close.
	The general leaned forward and gave Rodney a gentle smile.
	"It's okay, Dr. McKay.  It would have been nice to go home, but we
don't mind hanging around a little longer.  We'll get the QDD fixed
somehow.  I have complete faith in both my hus-band and you.  If
anyone can sort this out, you two will do it."
	"Yeah, because he's so damn perfect," Rodney snapped, scowling at
his doppelganger.  "He didn't drag anyone out of their universe
against their will, and he jumped like a rabbit when ordered out of
that chamber, so he didn't get caught, knocked out, tied to a stake
and dragged through acres of muddy fields and then strapped down onto
a sacrificial table by blood-thirsty aliens."
	The general smiled broadly, which John thought was pretty nice of
him considering Rod-ney's outburst.  "He's not perfect.  Neither am
I.  We've both fucked up in our own universe," he told Rodney.  
	"Really?  How?  We've got some time on our hands and I'm all ears,"
Rodney said, wrapping his good arm across his chest and gazing
expectantly at the general.  "I could do with hearing something
entertaining right now."  
	The general glanced at his husband.  "Do you mind me telling this
story?" he asked.  
	Dr. Sheppard chewed on his lip miserably.  "I don't like
remembering it," he muttered.
	"This is sounding more and more appealing," Rodney said in a tone
of some glee.  
	John prodded his leg again.  "Be nice," he warned.  "This is a very
small ship and we've got to spend several hours together."
	"Well, they've been so holier-than-thou since they got here!"
Rodney exploded.  "'In our universe, we don't have any hang ups about
freaky, gay, leather sex.  In our universe, we don't lock people up. 
In our universe, we're not sexually repressed like you people,'" he
parodied.  "'We don't suck people out of their own universes against
their will.  We're much too clever for that.  And in our universe we
like to wear collars and leashes and have constant sex with tubloads
of lube.'"
	"What?"  John raised an eyebrow.
	Rodney flushed.  
	"I asked him for some lube the other day.  It seemed to freak him
out," the general ex-plained.  John had to bite back a grin as he
imagined how Rodney had reacted to that.  "Look, Dr. McKay, I'm sorry
if you feel we're throwing our weight around.  We don't mean to. 
It's just that we're used to things being a certain way in our
universe and it's just hard to adjust," the general said in a
conciliatory tone.  "But, trust me, we're not perfect."
	"It was Duranda," Rodney Sheppard said unexpectedly.  "The Arcturus
weapon?  That's the story he wants to tell."
	"Oh.  That."  Rodney went strangely quiet.  
	"I persuaded John to let me go and work on the weapon again.  He
persuaded my Lady Elizabeth."  Rodney Sheppard bit on his lip.  "We
blew up half the solar system and Lady Eliza-beth was really, really
mad."  Rodney Sheppard winced.  "It was a big fuck-up all around."
	"Aw, did daddy spank you?" Rodney asked, in a less than kind tone.
	"No," Rodney said quietly, gazing at the general.  "No, he didn't. 
I still think he should have, but that's his decision."
	"It wasn't his fault," the general said quietly, sitting back and
putting an arm around his husband again, pulling him close.  "I know
what he's like when he gets intellectually excited by something and I
knew what was going on with him.  I agreed to take his case to Lady
Elizabeth.  I supported him.  It was my responsibility when it
failed, not Rodney's."
	"So what happened?" John asked, fascinated by this glimpse into how
their society worked.
	"Lady Elizabeth wanted me to punish him," the general replied. 
"This was a huge mis-take, committed in the public domain, and she
thought he should be publicly punished."
	"Oh, my God," Rodney breathed.  "You people really are sick."
	"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Rodney Sheppard snapped.  
	McKay shrugged and sat back, but he was clearly interested, despite
himself.
	"It's the way our society works," the general explained.  "My Lady
Elizabeth felt Rodney deserved a public reprimand.  The sentence was
30 swats.  As Rodney's top, I was responsible for delivering the
penalty.  While you have a brig, we have a designated punishment room-
and anyone can attend and watch if it's a public disciplinary."
	"Oh, God," Rodney breathed again, looking extremely uncomfortable.  
	"I refused to agree to the penalty," the general said.  "Rodney
hadn't lied to me.  Yes, he was perhaps too eager to go back and work
on the weapon, and, yes, he let his intellectual 
arrogance overwhelm his better judgment, but I knew all that and
still I agreed to support him."
	"So...you refused to punish him?" John said slowly.
	"Yes."  The general nodded.
	"Does that mean someone else had to do it?" John asked.
	"No!  I wouldn't let anyone else touch him!" the general said in a
horrified tone.  
	"So what happens in that situation?" 
	"What do you think?" the general asked.
	It all slotted into place-Rodney Sheppard's evident misery at the
thought of this story being told, and what the general had said to
him the previous day about John taking some of the blame for their
own Arcturus disaster.  John flushed.
	"You took the punishment for him," he said slowly.
	"Yeah," the general nodded.  Rodney Sheppard made a little sound in
the back of his throat and nestled closer to his husband.  The
general stroked his arm gently.  
	"I'm guessing that must have been...kind of humiliating."  John
made a face.  
	"It was.  I'm the highest-ranking top on the base apart from my
Lady Elizabeth," the gen-eral said with a sigh.  "I also run the
military operation and I'm in charge of all the military disci-pline,
so this was a pretty damn humiliating situation to be in.  It wasn't
an easy decision to make, but I couldn't in all conscience allow
Rodney to take all the blame.  It wouldn't have been right.  I knew
I'd allowed myself to be persuaded against my better judgment and
that was my fault, not his."
	"So what happened?" John asked.  "Who punished you?  Rodney?"
	"No!"  The general grinned.  "No, that's not the way it works in
our universe, John.  As I said, Lady Elizabeth is the highest-ranking
top, but she rarely administers any punishments her-self.  She puts
Peter in charge of that, the way I put Lorne in charge of it for the
military person-nel.  She and I have enough to do, frankly, without
overseeing that as well."
	"Peter Grodin?" Rodney McKay asked, frowning.  "I thought you said
he was her sub?"
	"He's a switch," Rodney Sheppard replied.  "It works well for him-
he gets to sub to Elizabeth in their private relationship and be
pretty toppy with the rest of us as part of his job.  He seems happy
about it, anyway."
	"Your entire society is just so hard for us to understand," John
told the general, shaking his head.
	"Then you'll understand that we feel the same way about yours," the
general replied.  "My Lady Elizabeth accepted my decision to take the
punishment in Rodney's stead.  I pre-sented myself in the punishment
room at eleven the following morning and it took place."  He
shrugged.  
	"Nobody went to watch," Rodney Sheppard added in a proud tone. 
"They all like and respect him too much.  Nobody wanted to see him
humiliated.  It was just Elizabeth and Peter."
	"And they're two of my closest friends, so it wasn't too bad," the
general added.  
	John frowned.  "If they're good friends, then I'd have thought it
would be even worse," he commented.
	"No.  Nobody liked it, least of all me, trust me," the general
laughed.  "But it was done quickly and quietly, with the minimum of
fuss, and then I was able to go back to my quarters and Rodney spent
the whole day trying to make it up to me in various, extremely
inventive ways, so it wasn't all bad."  He grinned at his husband
affectionately.
	"Crazy.  Completely insane," Rodney McKay muttered to himself.  
	"I think it is very romantic," Teyla said.  "You must love each
other very much."
	The general and Dr. Sheppard grinned at her and Rodney sighed
heavily.
	"Oh, for God's sake, don't encourage them," he muttered, closing
his eyes.  
	John prodded him again to keep him awake.  "I think it's a nice
story as well," he said.  
	"Well, I didn't notice you volunteering to take my place in
Elizabeth's office after she chewed me out for the same bloody
mission in our universe," Rodney snapped at him.
	"Well, that's because you and I aren't married and I don't get any
blow jobs from you," John retorted, enjoying the look of shock that
passed over Rodney's face.  
	"Ugh.  These people are having a bad effect on you, Colonel,"
Rodney told him primly.  
	John grinned and then found himself laughing.  He couldn't stop
himself.  The general joined in, and then Ronon, and then they were
all laughing-except for Rodney McKay, who sat there with a face like
a sour lemon.


*                       *                       *
	The night wore on, long and weary, and blood began to seep through
Rodney's ban-dage.  John could see that the scientist was growing
weaker.  His face was as pale as a Wraith's right now, and he
gradually stopped talking although he was still valiantly trying to
re-main awake.  
	"Hey...time to change that bandage," John said gently, nudging him.  
	"Tired..." Rodney muttered, his eyes rolling backwards.  
	John caught hold of his head as it clunked to one side.  "Stay with
us, Rodney," he said in a low, firm tone.  
	Rodney's eyelids fluttered closed and then, with a great sense of
struggle, opened again.  "Just a nap?" he asked.
	"No," John replied, carefully undoing the soiled bandage and
placing another one over the wound.
	"Not even a really short one?  A catnap?" Rodney requested
blurrily.  
	John held his face firmly between his hands and looked into
Rodney's confused blue eyes.  "No.  Now stay with me, Rodney!" 
	"Dammit, John, I'm tired," Rodney muttered.  
	John stared at him.  It was the first time Rodney had ever called
him by his first name, so he knew the scientist's condition must be
serious.  Rodney would only let his guard down if he was feeling too
ill to notice.  "I know, Rodney, I know," he said softly, his thumbs
moving gently over Rodney's cheeks.  "It won't be much longer.  Are
you in any pain?"
	"Just...feel cold," Rodney said, his good hand coming up to rest on
John's wrist.  
	"Christ, Rodney, you're cold as ice," John said.  
	"He's in shock," the general said, leaving his bunk and coming over
to look at the scien-tist.  "We need blankets."  He rifled through
the survival gear stored under the bunks and fished out a couple of
blankets and handed them to John.
	John thought about it for a moment, and then, not caring what
Rodney or anyone else thought, he scrambled onto the bunk beside
Rodney, pulled him over so that the scientist was resting against his
body and tugged the blankets around them both.  Rodney was too out of
it to do more than murmur a slight whine of complaint, but John
thought that was more because the movement hurt his arm than a
protest about sharing John's body warmth.  
	"You'll soon warm up now," John told him, using the cover provided
by the blankets to disguise the fact that he had wrapped an arm
around Rodney's chest and was holding him tight against him.  The
back of Rodney's head came to rest on John's shoulder and despite the
cir-cumstances, John couldn't help thinking that it felt good there. 
It felt right, as it if belonged there.  He rested his cheek against
the side of Rodney's head, fighting all his instincts to kiss the
other man's hair.  Rodney settled back against him, his body relaxed
in John's grasp-although John was sure that was only because he was
so sick.  If he'd been well, John knew the scientist would have been
pushing him away as quickly as he could.  
	An hour or so passed and the others all fell asleep, leaving just
him and Rodney lying there, Rodney's weight warm and solid against
John's chest, both of them staring into space.  Rodney shivered and
whimpered every so often and John felt helpless, knowing there was
noth-ing he could do but stay here and keep Rodney warm until
morning.  Rodney's eyelids drooped again and John squeezed him.
	"Wake up, Rodney."
	"Can't.  Just let me sleep," Rodney replied, his eyes remaining
closed.
	John squeezed him more firmly.  "No.  Eyes open-that's an order,"
he said.
	"I'm not military," Rodney slurred.  "Can't order me around."
	"Sure I can.  I'm in charge of this mission and it isn't over yet,
so you have to do what I say."  John moved his head and spoke
directly into Rodney's ear, softly, in an undertone.  "Eyes open,
Rodney.  Do it for me.  Trust me."
	Rodney seemed to think about this for a moment and then, with an
act of will so great that John could feel it through every single
muscle in Rodney's body, the scientist opened his eyes.  John gave
him another reassuring squeeze and held on tight.  He knew he should
feel guilty, but this might be the only chance he got to hold Rodney
and although he was worried about the scientist's condition, he
couldn't help but relish the opportunity to hold him in his arms.
	John started whispering stuff in Rodney's ear just to keep him
going.  He thought Rod-ney was listening-every so often he gave a
little grunt or his eyes widened as if he was follow-ing what John
was talking about.  It wasn't anything particularly interesting-just
a mish-mash of facts about his life and any stray thoughts that
entered his head.
	"Did you know I threw up the first time I went flying?" John said.  
	Rodney managed a twisted little grin at that.  "Flyboy not so
tough, huh?" he whispered.
	"Nah-wanted to fly something, anything, all through my childhood,
and then when I fi-nally got the chance, I threw up.  Had to work a
long time on overcoming the motion sickness," John said.  Rodney was
silent again.  John searched desperately for a new topic of conversa-
tion.
	"I always wanted a dog as a kid, but we moved around too much.  Dad
said it wouldn't be fair.  He was right."
	"Had a dog.  Ran away," Rodney muttered.  "Cats simpler."
	"Yeah.  I like cats, too," John said, remembering Rodney had owned
a cat back on Earth.  He'd always thought it was strange that someone
as prickly as Rodney had owned a pet-and clearly been so attached to
it.  Now that he thought about it, it struck him that Rodney
resembled a cat a bit himself-all sharp claws and hissing-to say
nothing of the ruffled fur and wounded dignity whenever he was upset.
He wondered if it was possible to tame the scientist, to smooth down
that fluffed up fur and coax a purr from him, maybe even get him
eating from his hand and twining around his legs.  He'd never have
thought so if he hadn't seen the way Rodney Sheppard behaved with the
general.  John glanced over at the opposite bunk and looked at the
two of them lying there together, side by side, fast asleep.  The
general had an arm wrapped around his Rodney's waist and his Rodney
was pressed back against him, looking utterly relaxed.  The general's
chin was resting in the crook of his Rodney's neck, so close that it
looked like he was kissing him, and his Rodney looked as happy and
contented as a cat as he lay there in his husband's arms.  John felt
a pang of envy and glanced down at his own Rodney, wishing it could
be the same for them.
	Rodney managed to stay awake for the rest of the night-more through
cussedness than anything else, John thought, although he did wonder
whether Rodney had responded, on some level, to the order he'd given
him, and his request to trust him; Rodney hadn't tried to sleep since
then.  
	When dawn finally broke, John left Rodney's side for the first time
and walked over to the front of the puddle jumper to peer out. 
Outside there were plumes of smoke and the usual sense of desolation
and carnage that accompanied a culling.
	"Poor bastards," the general said, coming up behind him, stretching
his long, lean body as he walked.
	"It's hard to feel that much sympathy with them bearing in mind how
they treated us and what they did to Rodney," John muttered.
	"Yeah, but look at it from their point of view.  It must look to
them like their gods are an-gry with them for not offering up that
promised sacrifice when we freed Rodney last night.  You can see why
a primitive people like this would believe in vengeful gods when the
Wraith have this habit of turning up every so often to feed on them."
	"I suppose, but right now I have to admit I don't care much about
them.  I just want to get Rodney back to Carson," John said, glancing
over his shoulder to where the scientist was still seated on the back
bunk of the jumper.  Rodney had stopped talking a long time ago, and
al-though his blue eyes remained open by some act of utter obstinacy
on his part, they had long since stopped focusing on anything and
were just staring blankly ahead, oblivious to his sur-roundings.
	"The gate's still open," the general observed, glancing at the
console.  
	"Yeah, but most of the darts have left, so it shouldn't be long,"
John said, buckling him-self into his seat.  "Hold tight, everyone,"
he said over his shoulder.  "Because we're out of here as soon as
that gate becomes free."  
	"Rodney, sit with Dr. McKay," the general ordered.  "Make sure he's
secured."
	The next few minutes passed as slowly as any that John had ever
known, and then sud-denly the darts were gone and the gate closed and
John slammed his hand onto the console and took the ship straight up
into the air.  Beside him, the general dialed out and John flew
straight for the gate.
	"Medical emergency," John yelled as soon as they had a
communications link.  "We need Dr. Beckett as soon as we're through."
	Within minutes, they had landed back in Atlantis, and within
seconds, there was bustle everywhere.  Carson pushed past him with a
medical team and maneuvered Rodney onto a gurney.  John was disturbed
by the fact that Rodney didn't even cry out when they moved him and
he was about to follow on behind the gurney when Elizabeth
intercepted him.
	"John, what the hell happened?" she demanded.  "What's the matter
with Rodney?  Why were you gone so long?  Why didn't you stay in
radio communication with us?  Did you get those crystals?"
	"I...."  John stared at her blankly, realizing she deserved a full
briefing, but unable to think about anything else but how Rodney was
right now.
	"I'll handle the briefing," the general said, stepping up beside
him and touching his arm.  "Go, John.  I'll take care of it."  
	John nodded gratefully and left the general to it.  He ran all the
way to the infirmary and got there to find Carson bustling around
Rodney's pale, still form.  
	"How's he doing?" John asked, running up to Rodney's bedside.
	"He's lost a lot of blood.  We need to get a tube into him," Carson
said, sticking a needle into Rodney's arm.  
	"He's got a badly wrenched shoulder as well," John told him.  
	"Aye, I can see that."  
	"I don't know if there are any other injuries," John babbled.  "He
didn't mention anything, but he was kind of out of it for a lot of
the time.  I made him stay awake-don't know if that was the right
thing, but I thought he might lose consciousness if I let him
sleep."  
	He gazed down on Rodney's white face, willing the scientist to be
okay.  The dark red bruise on Rodney's jaw stood out, livid against
his icy features and he looked half-dead already.
	Carson turned away from Rodney and crashed straight into John. 
"Colonel, you're in the way and it's not helping," Carson told him. 
"I want the infirmary cleared of all non-medical per-sonnel."
	"I'm not leaving," John said firmly.
	"Oh, yes, you are," Carson replied, equally firmly.  
	John frowned at him, surprised.  Usually Carson was such a
pushover, but then again John had never gotten in his way when he was
in full ER mode before, and it seemed this Car-son was a different
kind of beast altogether.  
	"Will he make it, Doc?" John asked, backing out of Carson's way.
	"If you'll let me get on and do my job, then there's every chance,"
Carson replied, shov-ing John backwards out of the door.  "I'll call
you when there's some news."
	John stood outside the closed door, wondering what the hell to do
with himself.  His legs felt like Jell-O and he was suddenly hit by a
wave of some kind of emotion and he doubled over, gasping for air. 
It took him a few minutes to recover, and then he staggered away,
needing fresh air.  He made his way to the South West pier, which was
his favorite, and held onto the railings as he took great gulps of
air.  
	"What the hell is happening to me?" he wondered out loud, as he
tried to calm himself.  Where had these feelings come from and how on
earth did he deal with them?  He'd never felt like this before, about
anyone, and he would never have expected to feel like this about
Rodney, of all people.  Was it just because their doppelgangers were
here, with their in-your-face rela-tionship?  Would these feelings
change or become more manageable once they left?  Or was he stuck
with them now?  If so, he didn't see how he could keep on working
with Rodney.  It would be a particular kind of torture to see the man
every day, to want him and worry about him like this, and not be able
to have him.
	"Hey," a voice said behind him, and he glanced around to see the
general.  "I thought I'd find you here.  It's where I always come,"
the general said.
	"Yeah.  My favorite place on Atlantis," John muttered.  
	"How's Dr. McKay?" 
	"I don't know.  Carson said he'd tell me when he had some news. 
He's lost a lot of blood," John said, and then he felt it again, that
wave of powerful emotion that had almost floored him before, and he
leaned over again and vomited his guts out into the water far below. 
He felt the general's hand on his shoulder and was grateful for its
solid warmth.
	"Dammit...what's happening to me?" John hissed, when he finally
managed to get him-self under some kind of control.  
	"I can't say for sure, but it looks pretty similar to what happened
to me once," the general replied.  
	John straightened up and looked the other man in the eye.  "I can't
control it.  It keeps hitting me and I can't keep it down, however
hard I try.  I've never felt like this before."
	"I know.  You're pretty good at keep everything tucked away inside,
not even a ripple showing on that calm, laid-back exterior," the
general chuckled.  "Don't want anyone to see you're not the cool,
easy-going guy, huh?"
	"Something like that," John muttered, sliding down to the floor and
slumping there, his back against the railings.  
	The general sat down beside him, those long, leather-clad legs of
his stretched out be-side John's.  "Here," he said, handing John some
gum that he'd fished out of his jacket.  "Should help take the taste
away."  
	John accepted it gratefully and stuffed the gum into his mouth to
banish the unpleasant taste of vomit.
	"So, you wanted to watch me in action during the mission.  You
can't have been too im-pressed," John said, with a sigh.  He'd really
wanted to impress this man, too, but somehow it had all gone so very
wrong.
	"By and large I thought you did a good job," the general said
carefully.  "Even the best planned missions can go wrong and you
can't prepare for every eventuality.  But you have a good head on
your shoulders, you fight like a warrior and you looked out for your
team-with one notable exception."
	"Oh, shit."  John hung his head and gazed down at his knees,
remembering the look of hurt in Rodney's eyes when he'd told him
about his orders to Ronon.  "I didn't mean to leave Rodney exposed. 
I had no idea it would pan out that way," he muttered.
	"Then you have to tell him that," the general said.  "When he's
well enough to hear it.  He's not a soldier, John, not like you, or
Teyla, or Ronon.  He deserved your protection."
	"I know," John nodded.
	"And he'll be blaming himself for the mission turning into such a
huge fuck-up," the gen-eral added.  John turned to gaze at him and
found himself meeting two serious hazel eyes that looked
disconcertingly like his own.
	"That doesn't sound like Rodney," John said with a shrug.  "We're
talking about Mr. Ar-rogance here, after all."
	"I know."  The general gave a wry grin and shook his head.  "Took
me a while to figure it out, as well, but however arrogant he is, and
however petty he can be, he always tends to take his fair share of
any blame going around.  More than his fair share, sometimes."
	John thought about that for a moment and then nodded.  Now that he
really thought about it, Rodney had never been slow in accepting when
he'd screwed up and offering an apol-ogy.  
	"Do you mind me asking you something...how did you get to be a
general so young?" John asked, because this was something that had
really been bugging him.
	"Isn't the question not how I got to be a general, but how come
you're so confused about your own ambitions?" the other man replied,
with a raised eyebrow.  "You tell me, John.  Why are you so
ambivalent about your career?"
	"I have...chain of command issues," John said, making a face.  
	"Which is another way of saying you don't like taking orders. 
Well, hell, neither do I," the general grinned.  "Shall I tell you
what I see?" he asked softly.  
	John tensed, unsure whether he wanted to hear this, but he didn't
want to lose whatever respect the other man might have for him by
refusing to listen to his opinion, so he nodded.
	"Okay, the way I see it is like this:  you're good.  You're quick,
you care about your peo-ple, and you have an excellent military
brain," the general said.  
	John nodded, waiting for the 'but'.  
	"You're also lazy," the general added.  
	John nodded again, and sighed.  "Yeah.  I know," he said.
	"I noticed your personnel records and equipment inventories aren't
as up to date as they should be," the general said.
	"Yeah.  I hate doing those things," John shrugged.
	"But there's something else.  It's not so much that you're lazy as
why you're lazy.  You see, I think that you don't want anyone to see
just how much you care about this stuff.  About all of it-about your
job, about the people here...about yourself, even.  It's as if you
stop yourself so they never get to see the real you-this one," the
general patted John's chest.  "The one that just threw up over the
side of the railings.  You'll never step up to the next level until
you can control your emotions, John, and in order to control them,
first you have to feel them."
	"I feel plenty," John replied, feeling pretty stung right now.
	"Own them, then," the general said, laying it down between them
like it was a challenge.  "I look at you and see someone who's been
avoiding taking responsibility for how he feels for a very long time.
I don't know why, but I can see how in your society it might be
easier that way.  You have all these stupid rules to try and make
sure that everyone knows what to do and how to behave towards each
other, but if you could just be who you are, who you truly are, and
inhabit that space inside you, then you wouldn't need any of that
crap.  You have a great gut instinct, John-I saw that back in that
underground chamber-but it's almost like you fear that part of
yourself.  You hold back.  I felt it and your team must feel it, and
until you commit to being who you are and going after what you want,
then you'll never make general."
	"Are you talking about Rodney here?" John asked suspiciously.
	"Among other things, but not just about him," the general said. 
"He's part of it, though.  If you want him, then you have to go after
him.  That's what I did."  He sat back and put his hands behind his
head with a wry smile.  "He was in all kinds of shit when I first met
him.  He was un-happy and, boy, did we all have to suffer because of
that!"  He grinned.  "He was getting into trouble and being
disciplined the whole time as well-which wasn't nice for him-and I
was find-ing myself more and more drawn to him.  Once I figured that
out, it was relatively easy.  I stepped in and he pushed me away.  We
did that a few times before I had to get tough with him and then
finally he figured out I was serious about him and not just playing
and he let me in.  He'd had a shitty life in many ways up until I met
him.  Nobody had ever loved him before so it's hardly surprising how
mistrustful he was of me at first.  Once he realized I did love him,
and once he actually learned to trust me, he calmed down and stopped
getting into trouble.  It wasn't all easy or plain sailing, and it
wasn't just him who found it hard.  At first, I felt pretty much like
you do now:  my emotions were so strong, they made me feel out of
control, so I had to work on that-a lot, because it sure as hell
wasn't easy.  Now I can control it.  You saw me controlling it back
there when that bastard was holding him hostage."
	"Your Rodney did exactly what you told him," John said,
remembering.  "That impressed me.  My Rodney would never have closed
his eyes like that and just trusted me in those circum-stances."
	"Well, we've worked on that," the general replied.  "We've been
through a lot of drills and one of them is the 'what you do when an
ugly savage holds a knife to your throat' scenario.  So, Rodney knew
what I expected of him and he did it."
	"I really doubt I could convince my Rodney to work on that kind of
thing," John sighed.  
	"Not while you're ambivalent," the general shot back.  "You hold
back on everything, John.  It's almost as if you're afraid to admit
that anything is that important to you.  Not your ca-reer, not
Rodney, not anything.  Maybe you've got good reasons for that-I don't
know where our life experiences differ-but I'm just saying, if you
want more, if you want to make general, and have Rodney, and be
everything you can be, then you have to start admitting you want it
and you have to stop being ashamed of what you feel."
	"It's....  Our universe is more complicated, I think," John sighed.  
	The general nodded.  "Well, I won't dispute that," he grinned.  
	At that moment, Carson's voice sounded on John's radio.  "Colonel
Sheppard?  I have some news about Rodney."  
	John leapt to his feet.  "On my way," he replied and then he nodded
at the general.  "Thanks for the pep talk," he said.
	"You're welcome-and remember to explain about the mission to
Rodney," he added.  
	John frowned.  That wasn't exactly going to be easy and he
preferred to avoid those sorts of conversations.  Even after Duranda,
he'd gone out of his way to avoid Rodney and only the scientist's
dogged persistence in tracking him down had forced him to have the
conversation John really hadn't wanted to have.  He supposed this was
what the general meant about holding back, and he squared his
shoulders and decided that the general was right-it was time to step
up to the plate.


*                       *                       *


	"He's got a concussion so I'll need to keep him in here for 24
hours, but I've sutured the wound and we've replaced a lot of the
blood he lost, so he's in much better shape now," Carson told John
when he got to the infirmary.  He gazed at John searchingly, perhaps
surprised by his behavior earlier.  "You did a good thing keeping him
awake, John," he added softly.  "That was the right thing to do in
the circumstances."
	"Hell, he did that himself," John said with a shrug, remembering
the obstinate look in Rodney's blue eyes when he'd been lying
shivering in his arms.  "I just kept reminding him, that's all.  He's
the one who held on in there."
	"Well, you can see him now.  Not for long, just for a couple of
minutes."
	John nodded and walked over to the bed.  "Hey, Rodney," he said. 
The scientist still looked pale, but his eyes were brighter now and
he was at least talking again.  His arm was strapped across his chest
and there was a clean bandage over his forehead.  
	"Colonel," Rodney said stiffly, nodding at him.  
	John sighed, remembering Rodney's sleepy warmth as he'd nestled
against him in the puddle jumper and longing to have that intimacy
back.  He wondered if Rodney was embar-rassed about how he'd held
him, but he wasn't entirely sure how much the scientist remem-bered
so he didn't bring it up.  
	"How are you feeling?" he asked.  
	"Fine.  I have a concussion.  And you were right-Carson is just one
shade above Ronon on the whole 'strapping up a badly wrenched arm'
thing," Rodney sniffed.  
	John grinned.  "No anesthetic, then?" 
	"No.  This place is like being in the dark ages," Rodney complained
loudly as Carson walked by.
	"Still moaning about your arm, Rodney?" Carson asked, a grin
tugging at the corners of his mouth.
	"Ah, yes, Doctor Death here seems to think it's amusing to
manhandle seriously injured people and cause them unnecessary pain
and suffering," Rodney snapped.  
	John smiled and placed a hand on Rodney's arm.  "You're sounding
much better, any-way," he said.
	"Yes, well, no thanks to you," Rodney said, glancing at John and
then glancing away again and John saw that same flash of hurt in his
eyes that he'd seen earlier.
	"You're right.  I'd like to apologize about that," he said firmly.  
	"Really?"  Rodney glanced back at him distrustfully.
	"Yes.  I made a serious error in judgment when I told Ronon to
stick close to the other Rodney.  I didn't mean to leave you exposed-
that's the last thing I intended, trust me."  John hoped that his
tone conveyed his absolute sincerity and he guessed that it did
because the hurt faded from Rodney's blue eyes to be replaced by
something that looked very much like...
surprise.  "I know you're not military and you need our protection. 
I think it's just that you always handle yourself so well on missions
that I forgot that," John said.  
	Rodney preened like a cat that had gotten the cream at that. 
"Well, thank you, Colonel," he said, that jaw of his jutting forward
in a familiar way that made John want to grab it and kiss it.  "I do
think I've mastered the basics very well, even if I do say so myself.
Of course it's hardly rocket science, although, frankly, I've always
found that pretty easy, but even so...."
	"Even so, there are still plenty of things that need working on,"
John interjected smoothly.  "So I think that, when you're better,
you'd benefit from some training sessions with me."
	"What?"  Rodney blinked.  This clearly hadn't been where he thought
this conversation was going.
	"That's right.  The general's got Dr. Sheppard trained in some
pretty interesting tech-niques, so..."
	"I bet he has," Rodney snorted.
	"Military techniques," John stressed.  "And he picked them up
pretty well, so if he can do it, I see no reason why you can't."
	"Oh, God.  There was a trap there somewhere and I walked right into
it," Rodney groaned.  "It must be because I nearly died.  My brain's
still weak from lack of blood."
	"You're doing fine," John grinned, patting his hand.  "Carson, when
will Rodney be well enough to have his first drill session with me?"
	Carson came to stand at the end of the bed and regarded Rodney for
a moment.  
	"It'll probably be months-a serious head injury like this," Rodney
said, glaring at Carson meaningfully.
	"Och, no, lad," Carson beamed.  "You'll only be in here for a
couple of days and back to light duties by the end of the week.  Give
it ten days, Colonel, and he's all yours," Carson said cheerfully. 
"And if I might say so, it's an excellent idea, Colonel.  Rodney
could do with some regular work outs.  He has a very high heart rate
and exercise would de-stress him significantly, I think."
	"Traitor," Rodney hissed, but Carson just smiled cheerily at him
and disappeared.  
	John turned back.  "Ten days, then," he said to Rodney.  "I'll book
out the practice room for our sessions.  We can start with an hour a
day and maybe work up from there."
	"An hour?"  Rodney looked outraged.  "I can't spare an hour every
day.  I'm a very busy man, Colonel.  The science department doesn't
run itself, you know!"
	"You can get up an hour earlier, then," John told him pleasantly. 
"We can do it before you start your busy working day."
	"But...."  Rodney clearly couldn't think of a reply to that and he
slumped back down on his pillow.  "Oh, just get out," he snapped at
John.  
	John gave him another wide grin and then he leaned in close.  "I
really am glad you're still with us, Rodney," he whispered, with
complete sincerity, directly into Rodney's ear, before turning on his
heel and leaving the infirmary.  When he glanced back, he noticed
that Rodney had just the faintest glimmer of a crooked little smile
on his lips.

Part Six:  Out of Control


	Rodney Sheppard let himself into the quarters he shared with his
husband and stood there for a moment, rubbing his neck absently.  He
was stiff, tired and vaguely pissed off that the mission had been
such a disaster, but pleased that McKay was going to pull through. 
Much as the man irritated him, the last thing he wanted was to attend
the funeral of someone who bore such a close resemblance to himself-
even apart from the fact that he would have been devastated to see
Colonel Sheppard's reaction to such a loss.  
	Rodney cricked his neck from side to side until he got a satisfying
click and then went into the bathroom.  He caught sight of himself in
the mirror and sighed; he looked sweaty, tired, bloodstained and
dirty.  He decided that a bath was in order, and he started filling
the tub.  He checked the bathroom closet for some kind of nice oils
to throw in, but they seemed to have been provided with only the most
basic toiletries.  Rodney made a face-these people seemed to lack any
kind of sensuality.  He finally found some kind of muscle-relaxing
bubble bath and threw that in, then sat on the side of the tub and
swirled the green liquid absently with his fingers until it
dispersed.  
	The bath had just finished filling when he heard John return to
their quarters so he turned off the water and went into the other
room to greet his husband.  John looked as beat as Rodney felt right
now and they gave each other a wry smile and then Rodney walked into
his arms and they just stood there for a moment, holding each other
and saying nothing.
	"Dr. McKay is going to be okay," John said finally, muttering into
Rodney's hair.
	"Yeah.  I stopped by the infirmary before coming back here," Rodney
replied.  John was silent but he had buried his nose in Rodney's hair
and was sniffing.  Rodney drew back and gazed at him-and wasn't
surprised to see a familiar dark gleam in his husband's eyes.  He
wondered how long it would be before John gave into it, because he
could see that he'd used up all his control during the mission and
was hanging on by a thread right now.  
	"I drew a bath.  Thought we could both use it," Rodney said,
watching his husband care-fully.  
	"Good thinking," John nodded, disengaging himself and sitting down
on the side of the bed, reaching for his boots.  Rodney knelt down
between his open knees and brushed his hus-band's hands away, undoing
the boots for him and pulling them off.  
	John put a hand on his shoulder as he worked, kneading absently. 
"Thanks," he mut-tered, when Rodney was done.  Rodney put the boots
in the closet and then John beckoned him back.  "Get undressed,
Rodney, I want to examine you," he said.  
	Rodney shrugged his clothes off quickly, threw the filthy garments
into the laundry box and then came to stand in front of his husband,
completely naked.  He was used to walking around naked when they were
alone together-John had always been pretty insistent about get-ting
to look at Rodney in the nude as often as possible.  John stood up,
and moved Rodney's head to one side so that he could examine the
wound on his neck.  He gave a little sound in the back of his throat
and Rodney tensed, but then the moment passed.  
	Rodney's fingers reached up and found the corresponding spot on his
husband's neck and the Kaeira hummed between them for a moment. 
"It's healing," Rodney murmured.  
	"Yeah."  John's long fingers moved down across Rodney's skin,
ghosting gently over the surface as he checked his husband for any
other signs of damage.  
	Rodney felt fine, but he knew John wouldn't be satisfied until he'd
looked him all over himself, so he submitted to the inspection
without comment.  John turned him around and found a minor scratch on
the back of his leg and then his fingers lingered on Rodney's bottom
for a moment.  
	"Bite mark's nearly gone," Rodney observed, glancing back over his
shoulder.
	"Yeah," John frowned.  "Guess I'll have to replace it, then," he
said, wrapping an arm around his husband's waist and placing a wet
kiss on the back of his neck.  
	"Mmmm," was Rodney's only reply.  He knew that was a given,
especially judging by that look of barely leashed control in John's
eyes.  
	"Can't have you walking around unmarked," John continued, his
fingers sliding up Rod-ney's chest and firmly squeezing one nipple.  
	Rodney sucked in a lungful of air and reached his hands back to
caress his husband's still fully-clothed body.  He loved fingering
the black leather that encased John's long legs and his hands came to
rest on his husband's firm ass.
	John continued kissing the back of his neck while fondling his
nipples with his hands and Rodney leaned back into the caress, loving
the sensation of surrender, enjoying his own naked-ness as he pressed
against the roughness of John's fully clothed body.
	"Bath'll get cold," Rodney muttered.
	"Are you trying to distract me from enjoying my husband?" John
asked, his voice low and dangerous in Rodney's ear.  
	Rodney grinned.  "Never!" 
	"A bath first would be nice, though," John said, pushing Rodney
away with a slap to his buttocks.  
	"Here.  Let me undress you," Rodney said, turning around.  He
waited until John nodded his permission and then he slid his fingers
into the shiny silver buckle on John's belt and undid it.  He removed
the belt carefully and placed it on the nightstand, his fingers
sliding over the thick black strap hanging from it as he did so.  He
gave a little shiver and John stroked his back with one fingernail,
trailing it all the way down to his naked ass.
	"Apprehensive, Rodney?" he asked, in that dark, growling voice that
always made Rod-ney's stomach churn.
	"Always am when I'm due a session with your strap," Rodney replied
with a grimace.  "So, are you going to punish me tonight or wait
until tomorrow?"  He had no doubt that John would punish him. 
Neither of them had forgotten his admission earlier that he hadn't
kept up with either his drill routines or his running program while
John had been absent.
	"Tonight," John replied and Rodney felt his stomach churn even
more.  "You'll be antsy if I make you wait until tomorrow."
	"Oh, waiting's fine," Rodney said quickly.  "I'm a patient man.  I
can wait."
	"You're not a patient man-you're the most ridiculously impatient
man I've ever known," John replied.  "But I'm going to make you wait
a little because first I want that bath."
	"Want to warm up your arm muscles, hmm?" Rodney said, undoing his
husband's shirt and stripping it off him, then moving his hands down
to John's pants.
	"Helps the swing," John told him with a grin.  "So I can make more
of an impression on your disobedient ass."
	"Sometimes it's hard for me to remember why I love you," Rodney
groused, sliding John's pants down his long legs.  John kicked them
off his feet and then pulled Rodney close and kissed him firmly on
the lips.  Rodney melted against him, his arms sliding around John's
naked flesh, utterly surrendering to the kiss.
	"That's why you love me," John said when he released him.
	"Oh, that.  Yeah," Rodney replied with a sigh.  "Seriously, John. 
You don't have to pun-ish me.  I know you're tired and I didn't do
anything really bad..."
	"Nice try, Rodney," John said, rolling his eyes.  "But I asked you
to keep up with your fitness routines while I was gone and I expected
you to do just that."
	"I was busy with the reactors," Rodney pouted.  "It wasn't like I
flouted your orders on purpose.  I was just so busy with my work that
I forgot."
	"Really?"  John raised an eyebrow.  "So, tell me, did Ronon happen
to drop by the lab and remind you on each of the four days I was
away?"
	Rodney screwed up his face thoughtfully, as if trying to remember. 
"Oh, okay, he did," he sighed at last.  "But it was always at the
most inconvenient times."
	"So you brushed him off," John said, chucking Rodney under the chin
with his fingers, an amused but dangerous glint in his eyes.
	"Kind of," Rodney shrugged, knowing he was on thin ice here and
there really didn't seem to be a viable exit.
	"And tell me, if it wasn't for the fact that you let it slip out
there, would you have even told me about it?"
	Rodney snorted.  "Yeah.  Right.  I have an IQ of genius
proportions.  Do I look stupid?" 
	John chuckled.  "Yeah, that's what I thought.  And that's why
you're going to be sleeping with an extremely hot ass tonight, Rodney
Sheppard.  You know how I feel about lying.  I can forgive you not
following my orders a hell of a lot more than I can the lie."
	"It wasn't a lie.  I just didn't tell you straight away.  I didn't
have time!" Rodney protested.  "You'd only just got back and then we
were transported here and it went clean out of my head."
	"Hmm, well, I agree the circumstances were a little unusual, but we
had plenty of time alone together for you to tell me before the
mission.  You were just hoping I wouldn't find out, although why the
hell you thought that Ronon would cover for you I have no idea."
	"I bribed him," Rodney replied.  "With food and a gun I modified
specially for him."
	"Honestly.  You're incorrigible," John said.  "And if you're going
to modify guns, shouldn't you modify them for me?  I'm your damn
husband, remember?"
	"I spoil you enough as it is," Rodney replied with a cheeky grin. 
"What with all the blow jobs and sexual favors."
	"You belong to me!" John growled, reaching for him possessively in
a way that made Rodney shiver and his cock stand to attention; he
loved getting this reaction out of his husband.  "So the sexual
favors and the blow jobs are my due," John hissed in his ear.  
	Rodney clung to him, enjoying the way their cocks slid together,
rising up to meet each other.  To be honest, when John had first
proposed marriage, he hadn't been sure.  He didn't know that he
wanted to give up his independence, take another man's name and
effectively be-long to him.  John was old fashioned as well-there
were various kinds of marriages a couple could contract in their
universe, but John had wanted the traditional kind, where Rodney be-
came his, body and soul.  Of course Rodney could still divorce him if
it didn't work out-it wasn't irrevocable-but even so, it was a big
commitment.
	"I just don't see it working any other way," John had said with a
shrug on the day he had proposed.  "I know myself, Rodney, and the
kind of man I am, the kind of top I am, and the kind of husband I
want to be.  You'll never be unloved, and you'll always be cherished,
but I need to know you're mine.  You have to belong to me-otherwise
it'll just feel to me as if we're playing at it."
	"I do want to marry you, but...I'm not sure I can submit to you at
the level you want me to," Rodney had replied, wanting to let go and
accept the proposal, but scared of somehow los-ing himself in such an
arrangement.
	"And I don't think you could be happy with anything less," John had
retorted.  "You know what you're like, Rodney.  You also know me-you
know I won't ride roughshod over you, but I do want to own you.  I
need that from you.  Anything else would just feel like you were
holding back on your submission, never truly belonging to me, and you
and I both know that's when you'll act out and get into trouble
because it won't feel real enough for you."
	Rodney had thought about it long and hard.  The kind of marriage
John was proposing wasn't easy.  In fact, he knew the Lady Elizabeth
had talked two couples out of committing to each other on such a
level and had persuaded them to opt for an easier arrangement
instead; yet the very demands of such a marriage were also
seductive.  
	Rodney's past was a wreckage of discarded relationships.  For a
while he hadn't even known what he was-he'd tried topping, had had a
brief, unsatisfying relationship with a sweet woman during his
college years, but he wasn't consistent enough to be a top, and his
moods were variable at the best of times, leaving her confused and
hurt all too often.  He also honestly didn't like having all that
responsibility for another human being resting on his shoulders; it
irri-tated and oppressed him, making him even more moody until she'd
ended it.  Then he'd tried subbing-to a woman first of all.  He'd
been attracted to the security and certainty of her zero tolerance
approach to relationships, but she was inflexible to the point of
cruelty and he ended up feeling sullen and resentful around her,
unable to breathe or allow his genius to shine.  The man he'd fallen
into bed with next had been much more easy-going, but he wasn't
anywhere near Rodney's intellectual equal and Rodney had run rings
around him until the poor guy had told him he was just too much of a
handful for him and ended it.  After that, there had been a long
period of loneliness and unhappiness, punctuated by occasional one-
night stands that had, for the most part, gone pretty badly.  He'd
managed to acquire a reputation for being a difficult and disobedient
sub, which he felt was undeserved, and he'd started acting out all
over the place, causing Elizabeth to summon him for several public
punishment sessions which had hu-miliated him almost beyond endurance-
not least because they were always so well attended by the rest of
the base personnel who thoroughly enjoyed witnessing his discomfort.  
	Then suddenly John had stepped effortlessly into his life and taken
control as if by magic, bringing him to heel with love and affection
and an underlying strength of character and sternness that Rodney
found himself responding to.  Nothing in Rodney's life to date had
pre-pared him for falling in love.  He'd never known such happiness
or such terror, both of them woven together inextricably, cradling
him and restraining him at the same time.  With John, he learned how
to explore his own nature, to really be who he was, in the safe
knowledge that someone would catch him if he fell and hold him tight.
John was everything to him, but he was asking Rodney to take one
final step that would involve a surrender and level of submission he
wasn't sure he was capable of.  Marriage of this most traditional
kind meant that he really would become John's possession.  There was
no concept of rape or assault within a marriage like this-he would
become John's chattel, his body a plaything for his husband to use
when and how he liked, and while the idea appealed, the reality
scared him.  Not that he seriously thought John would ever harm him,
but with their marriage Rodney effectively lost the right to say "no"
to anything his husband wanted to do to him.  
	He'd finally agreed, standing in John's room, white-faced, scared
beyond belief, his fin-gers digging anxiously into John's arm-and
John's big, bright smile when he heard the words had banished all his
fears completely.  Of course this was the right thing; to be owned,
to be loved by this man, of all people, the one man on Atlantis
everyone respected and liked, and the fact that this amazing,
handsome, smart man wanted Rodney to be his husband...well, Rodney
still couldn't get his head around that.  Of course it was right. 
When they told Elizabeth, Rodney had feared she'd withhold her
consent and try and talk them out of it, the way she had with those
other couples, but instead she had been warm in her congratulations,
and she'd given a heartfelt sigh.
	"Thank God you're taking him off my hands," she'd murmured to John.
"Not that it hasn't been an experience, Rodney, but I'm glad that
from now on you're somebody else's responsibil-ity!" 
	So they'd gotten married, and even now, a year or two down the
line, Rodney knew it was the best decision he'd ever made.
	He blinked, returning to the present to find his husband biting on
his neck.  
	"Mine," John was muttering hazily, the way he did when he got into
this kind of mood. 
	Rodney grinned, wondering why the hell that notion had scared him
so much back then, when he was considering John's proposal.  John's
mouth was nipping his neck and it was start-ing to hurt, so Rodney
went very still.  He'd learned from experience that when his husband
was in this mood, he liked Rodney to surrender, totally and
completely, to being marked, or to what-ever kind of pain or pleasure
he wanted to hand out.  Rodney clung on for a few minutes while John
completed his marking, and then his husband drew back and slid his
finger along the new mark on Rodney's neck, which completely covered
the previous knife mark.
	"That's better," John growled.  "It's the mark I made now-not his."
	Rodney felt it with his own fingertips, enjoying the tingle he got
out of being owned and possessed in this way.  Then he noticed some
of the bruises and cuts on his husband's body.  
	"Hey...looks like you've been in a fight," he joked, pressing his
fingers onto a bruise on John's arm.
	"Yeah, more than one," John replied, but he wasn't smiling. 
Instead, there was a dan-gerous look of intent in his eyes and he was
looking at Rodney in much the same way as a wolf looked at a deer. 
Kaeira buzzed between them, but John brushed Rodney's hand away,
break-ing the link.  "Don't share them," he said, hoarsely.  "I don't
want to see any marks on your body except the ones I put there.  And
I aim to put several on you this evening."
	"Okay, just let..."  Rodney began, but John interrupted him.
	"I want you," John said, in a low, guttural tone, pushing Rodney
back onto the bed, his movements hard and barely controlled.  "Now,"
John hissed, holding him down.  
	Rodney shivered at the tone of John's voice.  He'd clearly reached
the limits of his con-trol and all hell was about to break loose;
Rodney knew the signs very well.
	John was always like this after Rodney had been hurt, especially if
someone had put a mark on his body.  He became incredibly possessive.
After Kolya had scarred him and John had tracked the Genii leader
down and killed him, his husband had returned to their rooms in a
mood so fierce that Rodney had, for the first time ever, been
genuinely afraid of him.  They had stayed holed up in their rooms for
several hours while John worked out his emotions on Rod-ney's willing
body.  Rodney had never felt in serious danger, but it had been clear
that John's emotions were running high and nothing less than Rodney's
complete submission would satisfy him.  John was clearly feeling the
same way right now, and Rodney gave himself up to him im-mediately,
understanding how John's mind worked.  His husband could always
control these emotions during the actual crisis, like he had earlier
that day when Rodney had been held hos-tage, but afterwards, when
they were alone together, he seemed to feel a need to reclaim Rod-
ney, to make him his again, in the most basic way.
	John's hands and mouth were roving over Rodney's body, stopping to
suck or bite here and there.  Rodney lay still.  He knew John didn't
want to be caressed in return-he just re-quired that Rodney offer
himself up to him and allow him to do whatever he wanted to him. 
Rodney didn't think he presented a very sexy prospect at the moment. 
He was dirty and sweaty after the mission, but John didn't seem to
notice that.  His mouth was warm and fierce on Rod-ney's body and he
covered one of Rodney's nipples with his mouth and bit down.  Rodney
gave a little squawk of pain and shifted slightly beneath his
husband, and John growled like a lion afraid his meal was going to be
taken away from him, and held Rodney down with his hands.
	"Don't move," he warned, returning to his task, his teeth nibbling
down on Rodney's sen-sitized nipple.
	"Ahh..."  Rodney squealed as the bite deepened, but he knew John
intended to mark him and the bite continued until Rodney wasn't sure
he could take it any longer.  At the same time, he knew John would
make him take it, that John wouldn't let him up until he'd marked him
the way he wanted to, and this would be one of many marks his husband
would place on his body this evening.
	Finally the pressure from John's mouth lessened and he drew back
and licked at the red bite mark he'd left on Rodney's chest.  Rodney
glanced down at it with some pride.  He liked the way he always felt
bearing John's marks on his skin.  Sometimes, when he was in the lab,
he'd finger the marks through his uniform, remembering how they were
made.  They spoke to some need deep within him, and, while it wasn't
always comfortable receiving them, the pleasure he got from them for
days afterwards more than outweighed the momentary pain of their
infliction.
	"Turn over," John said roughly, but it wasn't an order.  
	Rodney knew he had to stay still, and John flipped him over, as if
he was a doll, rolling him onto his front.  Rodney wrapped his arms
around the pillow and lay there, tense, wondering where John would
mark him next.  John sucked a path down his back, following the line
of his spine to his waist and then he paused and Rodney knew what was
coming next.  He took a mouthful of pillow and waited, and sure
enough, next thing he knew John was sucking on one of his buttocks. 
The suck continued for a long time, and then it gradually deepened
into a bite.  Rodney bit down hard on the pillow, trying to keep
still and not wriggle too much under the fierce caress.  Finally,
John released him, and Rodney could feel his warm tongue lapping on
the mark.  Rodney sighed and shifted slightly and John gave a growl,
pinned him down to the bed and sank his teeth back into Rodney's
other buttock.  Rodney gave a startled cry which was muffled by the
pillow, but that just seemed to enflame his husband even more and his
grip be-came tighter, his arms holding Rodney fast so he couldn't
move.  
	That bite seemed to go on for hours-John had him in such a tight
grip that he was un-able to move at all, and all he could sense was
his own submission, thrumming through him, as John's teeth marked his
ass.  It hurt, but it was a good hurt, making his cock tingle, and
enthus-ing him with the thrill of his own lack of power.  He could
feel the energy passing between them as he willingly surrendered
himself to his husband and John took his surrender as his right, as
his due, and that was more of a turn-on than anything else.  
	Finally, John's grip lessened and he moved his mouth away from
Rodney's buttocks.  Rodney glanced back over his shoulder to see the
two bite marks, one on each buttock, red and proud.  He knew these
marks would last for several days and that thought made his cock
harden even more.
	John's face loomed over him, his hazel eyes dark, unrecognizable
and full of sexual en-ergy.  Rodney shivered.
	"On your back.  Open your legs," John ordered, but again he didn't
wait for Rodney to obey, but flipped him over and shoved his legs
open with hard, brutal movements.  "You're mine.  I'm going to take
you," John said, in that same low, dark tone.  
	Rodney nodded and reached blindly for the lube on the nightstand. 
Sometimes, when he was like this, John forgot about lube and while
Rodney could take a dry fuck if he had to, or if that was what John
intended, he preferred not to if he could avoid it.  He popped the
lid with his thumb, squeezed a liberal amount over his hand and slid
a finger into his ass.  
	John growled again, grabbed his hand and removed the finger. 
"Mine," he hissed.  "Don't touch.  All mine."  
	Rodney nodded, and squeezed the lube onto John's fingers and then
lay back, legs open wide and inviting, just hoping John would
actually use the lube and not go straight in there.  He was relieved
a few seconds later to feel John's hard, lubed fingers entering him. 
John leaned over him again, placed one arm over Rodney's chest to
keep him still, pressing him into the bed, and then rammed his finger
hard into Rodney's ass.  Rodney gasped-it didn't hurt, but it was
fast and furious, taking him by surprise.  John was gazing down on
him, a strange look in his eyes, one of complete dominance, just
teetering on the brink of losing control.  He had be-come a predator,
a wild animal intent on stamping his ownership on Rodney's flesh, and
the darkness in his eyes made Rodney shiver and his cock go into a
spasm of need.  John scared him when he was like this, but excited
him, too, and he knew he couldn't have one without the other.  
	John slid another finger into him, and then proceeded to finger-
fuck him so fast and so hard that Rodney was gasping out loud with
every thrust, trying hard not to move, willing himself to submit to
his husband's demands, but longing to scream and writhe under the
harsh caress.  John put his head on one side and gazed at him, their
eyes locked as he plundered Rodney's body with his fingers.  His eyes
raked over Rodney's chest, lingering on the bite mark over his nipple
and on his neck, his pupils becoming dilated with arousal as his
fingers continued their furious pace.  Rodney wanted to come, could
feel himself on the brink and he arched up, unable to stop himself
moving.  John gave another low, guttural growl at the movement, and
threw him-self across Rodney's body, wrenching his husband's buttocks
open with his hands and sliding his thick cock deep inside him in one
fast move.  
	It took a moment for Rodney to register the change in sensation
because it had hap-pened so quickly, and then he felt a familiar warm
burn, and a feeling of fullness, and his ass was stretched around
John's thick cock and it hurt and felt so good at one and the same
time.  John was on top of him, looking down, that strange look still
in his eyes.  He adjusted his posi-tion so that he was fully embedded
inside Rodney, up to the hilt, making Rodney whimper, and then he
rested his body on top of Rodney's and claimed a deep, savage kiss
from his husband's mouth.  
	Rodney opened up immediately, but really it was a one-way process
as John ravaged his lips with his own.  Finally he drew back, leaving
Rodney gasping for breath, his body still ad-justing to the sudden
intrusion of John's hard cock into his ass.  John moved his mouth
down and took Rodney's bitten nipple in his mouth and sucked down
hard.  The nub of flesh was al-ready sensitive and Rodney squealed
and tried to wriggle, but John held him completely immo-bile as he
sucked.  He finished with that nipple and turned his attention to the
other, sucking down hard again.  Then he looked up, an utterly feral
look in those dark, sex-hungry, hazel eyes, grabbed Rodney's hips,
and slid out of his ass and then back in again with a hard thrust. 
Rodney grunted but lay there, his legs open wide to receive his
husband, and John fucked him pitilessly, so fast and so hard that
Rodney wondered how he was even managing to stay con-scious.
	"Nobody touches you," John said, and Rodney remembered an arm
across his chest and the stink of that savage as he'd held a knife to
his throat and he knew John was remember-ing it, too, and that this
was all about banishing the memory, and his husband reclaiming what
was his.  
	"Nobody but me," John hissed.  "You're mine.  Mine.  Mine.  Mine." 
He said the words in time to each powerful inward thrust, over and
over again, like a mantra, and Rodney could feel himself on the verge
of coming.  He was John's-body and soul.  He belonged to his husband,
and was happy to offer up his body to him, a willing sacrifice on the
altar of John's need to pos-sess him.  Rodney came, spurting out over
his own belly, and John looked down on him fiercely, triumphantly,
and then, without warning, he withdrew, and came, deliberately, on
Rodney's neck and chest.
	Rodney lay there, utterly winded, feeling John's warm come cool on
his body, next to his own.  Then John was sliding down on top of him,
taking him in his arms, holding him tight and moving against him
while making a keening sound in the back of his throat.
	"It's okay," Rodney said softly, wrapping his arms around his
husband and soothing him with little caresses along his back.  "It's
okay.  I'm safe.  He didn't hurt me.  You got me back.  It's okay."
	He had seen the dark side of John's soul-had known it existed when
he married him-and was honored that John felt safe enough to share it
with him.  John managed, by and large, to control his possessive
streak, and Rodney guessed that very few people in their universe
knew just how deep it went, but when they were alone together, he was
able to let go, to de-scend into the darkness and surrender himself
to it, and Rodney was always there to hold him when it was over.
	John was still shuddering, his breathing coming in fast, hard gasps
against Rodney's neck.
	"Shh," Rodney whispered, holding him tight.  "You're okay.  I've
got you."
	Finally his husband's breathing slowed and he looked up at Rodney
and Rodney was relieved to see light again in those intense hazel
eyes.  At least John had recovered more quickly this time than he had
that time after he'd killed Kolya.  Then Rodney hadn't been sure he'd
be able to bring John back from the brink and it had taken several
hours.
	John winced, and ran a hand over Rodney's bitten neck.
	"Sorry," he muttered.
	"I like it," Rodney replied with a grin.
	"So do I," John said in a wry tone.  "I'm not sorry about marking
you.  I'm just sorry for the way it happened-for losing control."  He
shook his head.
	"I don't mind that, either," Rodney told him, caressing him gently
with his fingertips.  "I can handle you."
	"Hmmm.  That's good," John murmured.  
	"Besides, it's nice.  I'm usually the one who loses it, not you. 
Makes me feel like you're human after all," Rodney said.
	"Of course I'm human.  What else would I be?" 
	"Well, a minute ago, half-lion, half-wolf, I think," Rodney said,
pointing out the come that was drying on his body.  "I suppose I
should be grateful you didn't actually piss on me."
	"It's a thought," John said wryly, and the eager light in his eyes
made Rodney think he might not entirely be joking.  
	"Oh, God."  Rodney rolled his eyes.  "Well, if you do that, you're
the one who explains to these people why we need a new mattress.  I
couldn't bear to witness another of their horrified reactions."
	"You okay?" John asked anxiously, drawing back and tracing a finger
over Rodney's skin.  
	"I'm fine.  It was intense, but weirdly sexy.  I always come really
hard when you're like this, even if I'm also high on, you know, sheer
terror," Rodney told him.
	John bit down on his lip.  "Sorry," he said again.  "I just.... 
The thought of him with his arm around you, with his knife against
your throat.  It makes me...."  His hands balled uselessly into fists.
	"Hush," Rodney said, drawing him back again.  "I'm okay.  We're
both okay.  Relax.  You can come down now.  In fact...I think it's
time for that bath.  That should relax us both.  Come on."  
	He got up gingerly, feeling like he'd just gone ten rounds with a
Wraith, and held out his hand.  John took it and Rodney dragged him
off the bed and into the bathroom.  He topped up the tub with more
hot water, and then got in, pulling John between his legs.  Rodney
lay back, his arms wrapped loosely around his husband and he kissed
John's dark hair affectionately as they soaked.  John had taken more
bruises in the day's fights than Rodney had realized and he ran the
soap over his husband's skin, removing the dirt, grime and sweat and
bringing John back down again.  John sighed, lying back against
Rodney's chest, and Rodney smiled, fondling him absently.  He loved
having his husband cradled in his arms like this.  It wasn't often
that John would let himself just be held and Rodney liked to make the
most of it.
	They luxuriated in the bath for a long time, until it started to
grow cold, and then John got out and they toweled themselves down. 
They returned to the bedroom and Rodney walked purposefully towards
the bed, wanting nothing more than to throw himself into it and catch
up on some sleep, but John paused by the nightstand and gave a heavy
sigh.
	"Not so fast, Rodney.  We have something to take care of," he said.  
	Rodney turned, wondering what the hell he meant, and then his eyes
alighted on the strap.  "Oh, God, no.  Not now," he moaned. 
"Honestly, John, can't we leave it?  I was a naughty boy and I won't
do it again.  Can't we let it go at that?"
	"No, we can't, and you know that," John told him, a regretful tone
in his voice.  
	Rodney did know that, on some level.  Right now neither of them
wanted to do this, least of all Rodney, but he also knew that if they
didn't, a tiny chink would open up in their relation-ship.  This was
one of the fundamentals on which their lives were built-it couldn't
be shirked just because neither of them was in the mood.  
	"How do you want me?" Rodney sighed at last, giving in to the
inevitable.
	"Against the wall.  Hands braced, legs open," John ordered, but
Rodney had done this enough times to know how it went.  He walked
over to the wall, placed his hands flat against it, planted his legs
wide and jutted his ass out.  Then he watched over his shoulder, his
stomach doing several anxious flips, as John unfastened the strap
from his discarded belt and prowled back over to him.
	"Five for missing the drills, five for not running and ten for not
telling me about it," John told him.  
	Rodney groaned.  "Twenty?  That seems a lot," he complained.  
	"All deserved, as you well know," John snorted.
	He took up position behind his husband and Rodney faced the wall
again, bracing him-self.  A few seconds later, the first swat fell on
his bottom.  He felt faintly aggrieved; he'd already been bitten
there-twice-this evening, and now this!  John's punishments were
always hard and to the point.  Rodney had never yet mistaken a
serious punishment spanking for a pleasur-able erotic one and this
was no different.  There was no warm up, just the snap of the strap
and the sting of pain on his ass.  John was always fair, but equally
firm, and Rodney knew that com-plaining and pleading didn't work,
although that didn't usually stop him trying it, anyway.  
	He was tired, irritable and seriously pissed off to be in this
position and it had been a long, exhausting day.  The strap whipped
across his buttocks, hard, unrelenting and extremely painful.  Rodney
rested his face against his hands and began to sob, little whimpering
sobs.  He was surprised-he didn't often cry so easily-but somehow, at
some point during the strapping, he realized he needed this release
the way John had needed his own release earlier.  
	John's arm didn't falter, and the strokes came slowly and steadily,
and soon Rodney was crying in earnest.  Not so much because it hurt,
although it did, but because they both could have died today and
instead they were here, alive and together.  All the fears and
tensions of the day left his body as John's strap made its inexorable
marks on his skin, claiming him once more, over and over again, with
its searing fire-and he didn't have to be strong for John any-more;
he could just let go and accept the punishment he'd earned what felt
like a lifetime ago.
	Then it was over.  He heard John put the strap down on the
nightstand, but Rodney did-n't move.  He just stood there, sobbing
softly into the back of his hands.  Then he felt John's fin-gers on
his shoulders and he was turned around and pulled into a warm embrace
and John was kissing his hair, and sliding his hands down his back,
comforting him.
	"You're so beautiful when you surrender like that.  I love you so
much," John whispered, and that just made the lump in his throat even
bigger and now he was bawling like a child into John's shoulder. 
"Cry it out," John whispered, stroking him like he was a cat.  Rodney
did just that and when finally he'd finished, and his sobs had
morphed into whimpers, his breath hitching in his throat, John guided
him over to the bed and helped him to get in.  Rodney felt his
husband slide in behind him, John's groin pressing against his warm,
sore buttocks, and then John wrapped his arms around him and they
both lay there for a moment, too exhausted to sleep.
	"Don't ever leave me," Rodney whispered, putting a hand on his
husband's arm where it crossed his chest.
	"Never could," John replied, kissing the back of his neck and then,
reconnected with each other, the energy flow running easily between
them like warm honey, sweet and satisfying, only then did they
finally fall asleep.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney McKay sat in his bed in the infirmary feeling utterly bored.
The truth was that he only actually enjoyed being in the infirmary
and under Carson's scrutiny when he wasn't actually ill or injured. 
That was much more fun because he got to be fussed over and indulged
on his terms and when he'd had enough, he could just walk out again. 
Being actually injured was an-other matter entirely and he hated it. 
For a start, there was nothing wrong with his brain, so he didn't see
why Carson wouldn't at least let him work on his laptop while he was
incapacitated.  His arm hurt and he had a dull headache most of the
time, but he was pretty sure that even with those handicaps, he could
still work on the theoretical side of restoring the QDD even if he
wasn't allowed back to his lab.  Instead he was stuck here, bored
witless.  
	"Carson!" Rodney yelled, for the seventh time that morning. 
"Carson!"
	The doctor emerged from a side room with a wary expression on his
face and stood at the end of the bed.  "Rodney," he said in a calm,
but ever-so-slightly world-weary tone.
	"There's no reason for me to be taking up valuable bed space in the
infirmary.  I could be sitting in my bed in my quarters just as
easily," Rodney told him, because at least then he'd be able to use
his laptop without any nosy doctor interfering.
	"We've been through this, Rodney," Carson said, his voice strained.
"Several times.  You have a concussion and that means I need to keep
an eye on you for 24 hours.  If you left the infirmary, I wouldn't be
able to see you-and if I can't see you, I won't notice if you faint,
or fall over, or start having bad headaches."
	"Well, obviously I'll tell you if any of those things happen!"
Rodney protested.
	"Not if you're unconscious on your bathroom floor, you won't,"
Carson retorted.  "And as for the issue of freeing up an infirmary
bed-we're hardly rushed off our feet."  He gestured around the empty
room.  
	Rodney thought about it and then let out a heavy sigh.  
	"I know you're bored, Rodney, but please try to be patient," Carson
said with a sympa-thetic smile.  
	Rodney sighed again.  "Can't I at least have a visitor?" he asked.
	"You could, but there doesn't appear to be a queue of people lined
up outside the door," Carson replied.  Rodney gazed down at the
sheet, feeling glum.  Carson came around the bed to stand beside him
and squeezed his arm gently.  "You've already seen Elizabeth, Teyla
and Colonel Sheppard this morning," he said.  "And people do have
work to do.  I'm sure more peo-ple will drop by later.  I know Ronon
said he would."
	"Great," Rodney sighed.  "No offense, but Ronon's hardly the
world's greatest conversa-tionalist."
	"Then you'll just have to hope he brings you something nice to
eat," Carson said and Rodney brightened at that thought.  He was
already sick of the blue Athosian 'grapes' that Teyla had brought
along a couple of hours ago.  He'd gorged on them happily enough for
ten minutes, but that novelty had long since worn off.  
	"I'd feel much happier if I could just have some coffee," Rodney
said sweetly, glancing up at Carson hopefully.
	"Nice try, Rodney, but the answer is the same as it was the
previous eight times you asked.  No," Carson told him.  "Caffeine is
a really bad idea for you right now with that head wound."
	"Damn it, Carson!  I'm sure that's why I have this bloody
headache!" Rodney protested.  "My body needs a certain amount of
caffeine just to get through the day.  It's used to it!"
	"Well, view this as a good opportunity to break yourself of the
habit, then," Carson re-plied with zero sympathy.  
	Rodney glared at him.  "Oh, go away," he sighed.  "You're much more
fun when I'm not actually ill."
	"I could say the same thing about you," Carson muttered under his
breath as he walked away-only to return a couple of seconds later
with a broad grin on his face.  "You wanted a visitor, Rodney?  Well
one has just arrived!" he announced in a pleased tone, before
scuttling off again.  
	Rodney sat up, excited, and then slumped back down again when he
saw who it was.  "Oh.  It's you," he muttered, as Rodney Sheppard
sauntered up to his bed.
	"Nice to see you, too," the other Rodney said, with that stupid
grin of his.  
	Rodney glared at him sourly, thinking how incredibly unfair all
this was.  Here was he, badly injured and practically at death's
door, while his counterpart was fresh as a daisy, that ri-diculous
curly hair of his looking clean and freshly washed, and he was
wearing...he was wear-ing....
	"Is that one of Colonel Sheppard's shirts?" Rodney asked, gazing at
the dark purple fab-ric suspiciously.
	"Yeah.  You only gave me uniform stuff.  The colonel gave John some
casual clothes as well and I liked this, so I thought I'd wear it,"
the other Rodney said.  It fitted him a bit snugly, because he was
broader across the shoulders and chest than the colonel, but he
looked much more comfortable in it than Rodney knew he would have
felt in such a garment.  
	Rodney gazed at the other Rodney in surprise, wondering why he
always looked so comfortable in his own skin, seemingly completely
unaware of how stupid he looked.  Right now he was also looking
incredibly relaxed and there was a goofy little smile playing on the
corners of his lips...and...and....  
	Rodney frowned.  "Oh, my God, is that a hickey?" he snapped, seeing
the red mark on the side of his counterpart's neck.  "Aren't you a
bit old to have a hickey?"
	"You're never too old and it isn't a hickey-it's a bite mark," the
other Rodney told him with a happy smile.  
	"You let him bite you?"  Rodney crossed his arms over his chest,
feeling deeply threat-ened for some reason.
	"Sure.  Well, to be honest, it would have been hard to stop him,
the mood he was in last night, but, yeah.  I like it when he bites
me.  You should try it sometime."  Rodney Sheppard gave him another
one of those bright smiles.
	"No thank you!" Rodney snapped.  "Doesn't it hurt?" he asked
curiously, still freaked out, although he wasn't sure why.
	"Yeah, but it's such a good hurt," his counterpart told him with
what could only be de-scribed as a lascivious wink.  
	Rodney gazed at him, appalled by what that expression looked like
on his own face.  "There, see-just not getting the concept of 'good'
and 'hurt' being used in conjunction with each other," he commented.  
	"Well, maybe that's because you've never tried it," the other
Rodney told him.  "Are these grapes?" He peered at the bowl on
Rodney's nightstand.
	"Yes, they are.  Well, no, they're not, but they're near enough. 
Teyla brought them in-for me," Rodney said pointedly.
	"Well, I'm you," Rodney Sheppard said cheerfully, helping himself
to a handful.
	"You so aren't," Rodney snorted.
	"Sure I am.  We look the same-apart from me being better looking-we
talk the same, we walk the same, we're both Head of Science on
Atlantis, we both have the same hottest guy on the base wanting to
jump our bones, we both..."
	"Hold on!" Rodney held up his hand.  "Back up there.  Who wants to
jump my bones?"
	"Colonel Sheppard."  The other Rodney rolled his eyes.  "You must
have noticed."
	"Colonel Sheppard is straight.  As am I," Rodney replied firmly.
	"I have no idea what that means.  Is it the same as being gay?" 
	"No, it's the opposite," Rodney snapped.
	"I'd have thought the opposite of 'gay' would be 'sad,' but
whatever," the other Rodney shrugged.  
	"So he is absolutely not interested in me that way," Rodney
continued.
	"Oh.  Okay.  So, him being absolutely not interested in you would
clearly explain why he was out of his mind with worry about you
during the mission, and why my John had to take over command because
your John was acting all crazy.  It probably also explains why the
colonel crept under those blankets with you in the puddle jumper and
held you all night.  Definitely not interested in you.  At all."
	"He was trying to keep me awake!  And warm!" Rodney protested.  He
had to admit that he had been touched by the colonel's concern for
him-he hadn't expected him to hold him like that, and he'd felt
curiously reassured by the way the other man had wrapped his arms
around him and whispered in his ear.  People never usually cared that
much about him and it still sur-prised him that the colonel, of all
people, had been worried about him.
	"Oh.  Right.  Okay," the other Rodney nodded.  "Just from where I
was sitting, it looked more like he wanted to kiss you."
	"He does not want to kiss me!"  Rodney remembered the warmth of the
colonel's breath against his ear and on his hair and how safe he'd
felt lying there with him.
	"Ah-but you want to kiss him right?"  Rodney Sheppard grinned.
	"No!" Rodney shouted.  "And if you keep on like this, I'm going to
get Carson to throw you out."
	"Okay.  I hear you."  Rodney Sheppard put up his hands in mock
surrender.  "So what's your problem with it, Rodney?  Why does the
idea freak you out so much?"
	"It doesn't freak me out.  It's just not who I am," Rodney snapped.
And he was pretty sure it wasn't.  Not that he'd had sex with that
many people, but they'd all been women.  All two of them.  Not that
it had gone very well, admittedly, but he assumed that was a matter
of prac-tice, and if they'd just kept on seeing him, he was sure he'd
have gotten better at it.  
	"So, how are you?" Rodney Sheppard said, ignoring that last comment
and stuffing the grapes into his mouth.
	"I'm fine.  Well, no, I'm very ill, apparently, according to
Carson, and people should be nice to me, especially because I'm
suffering caffeine withdrawal and my behavior is therefore
unpredictable."  Rodney paused for a moment, and his counterpart
grinned at him again.
"Um...I should probably...you know...thank you or something for the
last minute rescue, although really, did you have to cut it so fine?" 
	"We got you out of there, didn't we?" his counterpart said, leaning
on the side of the bed.
	"There is a chair."  Rodney gestured with his head.
	"Yeah...not feeling like sitting down right now."  The other Rodney
gave a wry grin.
	"Oh, God.  He spanked, you didn't he?"  Rodney could feel his face
flush a bright shade of vermillion at that thought.
	"Yup," the other Rodney shrugged.
	"Why?  What did you do?" Rodney asked, horrified and fascinated at
one and the same time.
	"Didn't do the drills he set for me while he was away.  I was an
idiot and let it slip to him during the mission."  Rodney slapped his
hand against his forehead.  
	"My God, he spanks you for not doing exercise?"  Rodney shuddered,
remembering that Colonel Sheppard had him down for some drills of his
own.  In fact, he'd been busy sitting here trying to think up ways of
getting out of them, but now he wasn't so sure that was such a good
idea.  The colonel had been behaving weirdly since these people
arrived and Rodney wasn't entirely sure how he'd react to him
avoiding the drills.  Not that he thought he'd spank him as such,
but....  Rodney tried to close down that mental image, but it just
sat in his head, torment-ing him.  "That's just...terrible," he
sighed at last, still preoccupied by the thought of Colonel Sheppard
throwing him over his knee.
	"I know.  It sucks.  Exercise is for dogs," his counterpart said.
	"That's what I always say!" Rodney exclaimed.  
	"But John wants me mission-fit the whole time, so we do these
drills, and I have a run-ning program, too."
	"It sounds awful," Rodney sympathized.
	"It is," his counterpart agreed in a melancholy tone.
	They shared a rare moment of bonding.  
	"You could just say no," Rodney said eventually.  "When he tries to
spank you."
	"Not really," his counterpart shrugged.  "You see, when I married
him, I agreed to submit to him in everything.  So he owns me and can
do pretty much anything he wants to me."
	"What?" Rodney exclaimed, aghast.  "That's terrible!"
	"No-it's fantastic," the other Rodney replied.  
	"But...but...."  Rodney tried to imagine what that would be like
and failed.  "Are you say-ing he could really hurt you and you
couldn't even charge him with assault?"
	"I suppose so, but he wouldn't.  That's not the way it works, and
besides, he'd get a hard time from the other tops if he was abusive
towards me.  But I know he never would.  It all comes down to trust,"
the other Rodney said softly.  "I trust him.  It's that simple."
	"I don't understand you."  Rodney shook his head.
	"No.  But then you don't understand yourself, either, so no
surprises there."  
	"Was there a reason why you dropped by to irritate me?" Rodney
snapped, the rare moment of bonding clearly well and truly over.
	"No, I don't think so....  Oh, yes!"  His counterpart gave that
stupid little giggle of his and clicked his fingers excitedly.  "I
came to tell you not to worry about the lab.  It's in safe hands."
	"What?"  Rodney sat up straight with a frown.
	"The lab.  I've been working there all morning; just thought I'd
drop by and reassure you.  I've got them all working on the QDD. 
Man, it's great to be working with Radek again-he's fan-tastic.  Not
as brilliant as me, of course, but then who is?  But he's a good,
solid engineer.  Nice to hear that Czech accent again."
	"What do you mean you've been working there all morning?  Who said
you could work in my lab, with my people?" Rodney demanded, throwing
the sheets aside, and sliding off the bed.
	"Well, there's no point me sitting around waiting for you to get
better before starting work modifying those crystals.  It'll take
weeks as it is, so I thought it made sense to get a head start."
	"Where are my clothes?" Rodney demanded, looking around the
infirmary helplessly.  "Carson!  What have you done with my clothes?"
	Carson came running out of the side room.  "What now?" he demanded
and then he saw Rodney and his eyes widened.  "Rodney, what are you
doing out of bed?" 
	"What does it look like?  There is no way I'm letting this
irritating idiot loose in my lab," Rodney snapped.  "Now give me my
clothes."
	"No," Carson replied, standing in front of him, his blue eyes
flashing.
	"What?  Carson, we don't have time for this.  I'm fine.  I'm not
about to keel over or any-thing, and while I'm lounging around here,
God knows what he is doing in my lab.  Anything could be happening!"
	"Like what?" the other Rodney asked.  
	"You could be blowing things up," Rodney growled.
	"Or sucking people in from other universes?"  His counterpart
raised an eyebrow.
	"That was an accident!  Look, that lab is mine.  You are not in
charge of it and you do not give my people orders!" Rodney snapped at
him.
	"I already have.  They like me.  Apparently, I'm nicer and more
laid back than you.  I told them that's because I'm getting laid all
the time and you aren't."  His counterpart grinned at him.
	"You...you...!"  Rodney lunged towards him across the bed only to
find himself restrained by Carson's surprisingly strong arms.
	"Now, now, Rodney, calm down," Carson said, his voice sounding
suspiciously amused.
	"It's my lab," Rodney said desperately, trying to squirm, but
Carson had him held fast.  
	"I know, lad, I know," Carson said softly.  "But you're not well
enough to be there right now.  You lost a lot of blood yesterday and
that was a nasty head wound I sutured.  You're not well enough to go
back to work yet."
	"I'm fine."  Rodney felt the room swimming, and then there were two
Carsons in front of him, and he could feel himself going down. 
Strong arms caught him and directed him back onto the bed.
	"There.  See," Carson said grimly.  "I told you."  He helped Rodney
to get under the sheets and then stood there, his arms folded over
his chest.  "Now, you are not going any-where.  I'll sit here and
guard you myself if I have to."
	Rodney Sheppard gave a snort of amusement at that.  
	Carson turned to glare at him.  "And you are leaving," he said.  
	"Okay.  On my way," the other Rodney grinned.  
	"I still don't see why..."  Rodney began.  
	Carson fixed him with an extremely stern stare.  "Be quiet, Rodney,
or I'll call Colonel Sheppard in here and tell him exactly why he has
to detail two of his soldiers to guard you," he said.  
	Rodney thought about that for a moment.  It wasn't a good thought.  
	"Dammit, Carson, when did you become so bossy?" he complained.
	"Tell me about it," the other Rodney said, slapping Rodney's arm. 
"Him and John be-tween them-always bossing me around.  Nice to know
you have the same problem."
	"Aren't you supposed to have left?" Rodney glowered.
	"Get well soon, Rodney."  The other Rodney grabbed another handful
of his grapes and then, with a cheery wave in Rodney's direction, he
left.  
	"Seriously, Carson, what's going on?  Why are you being so mean?"
Rodney asked, feeling extremely aggrieved; he'd always been able to
push the doctor around quite easily be-fore and he had no idea what
had happened to the normally mild-mannered Scot.  
	Carson had a strange look in those blue eyes of his and he gave an
odd little smile.  "I found out something that surprised me, that's
all," he murmured.  "It got me to thinking...."
	"Oh, God-it's them again, isn't it?"  Rodney sighed, leaning back
on his pillows, feeling utterly exhausted after his recent exertion. 
"First the colonel, now you-they're having this weird effect on
everyone."
	"It's made me feel much more confident," Carson told him softly.
	"I noticed," Rodney sighed.
	"Knowing there's a Carson out there who...well, I don't want to go
into details, but it's just made me feel a wee bit more sure of
myself.  You could learn a thing or two from them as well, Rodney."  
	"Like what-how to wear a collar?"  Rodney made a face.
	"No, but you have to admit that Rodney Sheppard seems very happy
with his life.  I'm sure you could take a few lessons from that. 
Now, hold still.  You're looking very pale, lad, and I want to make
sure you didn't do yourself any harm as a result of that wee bit of
stupidity just now."  He put his fingers on Rodney's wrist and took
his pulse and then checked his head wound.  "No harm done, but I'm
going to keep you in here for an extra day or so just to be sure,"
Carson told him.
	"My entire life sucks," Rodney sighed, banging his head back on the
pillow.  
	"Aye," Carson agreed with a smile.  "It's not easy being you,
Rodney."  
	Rodney closed his eyes, feeling worn out.  He wished Colonel
Sheppard would come and visit him again.  In fact, he wished he was
here right now.  It had felt so nice back in the puddle jumper, being
close to someone, being touched, being held.  He hadn't been close to
anyone in a very long time.  Generally speaking, nobody was ever that
keen on being close to him and he'd stopped yearning for physical
contact as a result.  No point wanting something you couldn't have. 
Unless...unless you could?  He had another flash of that memory, of
the colo-nel's warm breath ghosting over his ear, of the colonel's
hard body underneath his, of those strong arms wrapped around him,
keeping him still, keeping him warm, keeping him alive.  Rod-ney
relished the memory, replaying it over and over again in his mind,
using it as a comfort blanket until he fell into a deep, exhausted
sleep.


*                       *                       *


Part Seven:  Submission


	Ten days later, Rodney stumbled sleepily to the door of his
quarters and opened it in re-sponse to the insistent chiming.
	"Good morning, Rodney!" Colonel Sheppard said in an insanely
cheerful voice, stepping into his room.  
	Rodney glowered at him.  "What's good about it?" he grunted,
walking back to his bed to pull on his boots.  He hadn't bothered
shaving because he assumed that whatever it was Colo-nel Sheppard
wanted to do to him would require a lot of sweating and generally
being uncom-fortable to the point of him requiring a long shower when
the hour was up.  He had managed to put on his pants, but still
hadn't changed from his sleep tee-shirt into his workout tee-shirt. 
He tied his bootlaces very slowly, like a condemned man delaying his
own execution.  He'd deliber-ately left the light off, but Sheppard
seemed to feel a need for everything to be as bright-eyed and bushy-
tailed as he was and he turned it on, making Rodney utter a curse and
screw up his eyes against the sudden harsh brightness.
	"So, you're not a morning person, then?" Sheppard said, leaning
against the wall.
	"It's six a.m.!  I went to bed at one and now you've got me up
early just so I can wear myself out with pointless calisthenics,"
Rodney grumbled, finishing with his bootlaces and get-ting up with a
sigh.
	"Not pointless, Rodney, and who the hell uses the word
'calisthenics,' anyway?  It's a drill, so I can teach you how to take
care of yourself in a fight."
	"Why now?" Rodney asked, getting up slowly, his entire body feeling
sluggish.  "I mean, we've been going on offworld missions for a
couple of years and suddenly now you feel I need a military tutorial?
And forgive me if I'm wrong, but isn't the whole point of your job to
protect me because as a civilian I'm clearly incapable of doing that
myself?  How would you like it if I in-sisted you spent an hour a day
in the lab with me learning about astrophysics and mechanical
engineering, hmm?"
	"I think it'd be great."  Sheppard smiled at him pleasantly and
Rodney scowled.
	"Yes.  Well.  You still haven't answered my question.  Why now?"
	"I agree.  I must apologize to you," Sheppard said.  Rodney screwed
up his eyes suspi-ciously.  Sheppard grinned.  "I should have
suggested it a long time ago.  It hasn't been fair on you, and the
events of our most recent mission brought home to me just how remiss
I've been in taking care of your personal safety."
	"What?"  Rodney blinked.
	"You're invaluable to us, Rodney," Sheppard told him.  "Your
knowledge and expertise are far too important an asset for us not to
take very good care of them.  You've always handled yourself pretty
well offworld, but you haven't had any formal training and now I'm
going to take care of that.  A bit late, admittedly, but I promise
you I won't fail you again."
	"Thanks.  I think," Rodney said, wondering how the hell this whole
conversation had been turned around so that it looked like he should
be grateful about the coming hour of hell he was about to be
subjected to.  
	"Ready?" Sheppard asked.
	"Tee-shirt," Rodney muttered, reaching for his clean tee-
shirt...and then hesitating.  He hated undressing in front of people
and he really didn't want to be half-naked in front of Colonel
Sheppard of all people.
	"Well, hurry up, it's already nearly five past," Sheppard said,
glancing at his watch.  
	Rodney bit on his lip.  It seemed incredibly prissy to ask the
colonel to turn around, so in the end, he pulled his bed tee-shirt
over his head, feeling his face flush as he did so, and quickly
pulled on the other tee-shirt, all the time aware of the colonel's
eyes upon him.  In fact, the colo-nel's demeanor of casual
indifference was disturbing of and by itself, when contrasted with
the tautness of his muscles, and the way he was leaning against the
wall, never taking his eyes off Rodney.  Rodney had the disturbing
sensation of there being a panther in the room, poised ready to
spring, sleek and powerful.  He shivered and brushed the thought
aside; it was only Colonel Sheppard.  
	"Right.  I thought we'd go for a little run first, to warm you up. 
Just a quick jog down to the South West pier.  Then we can go to the
practice room and start work on some drills.  Sound okay?" Sheppard
asked.
	"No.  Sounds horrible.  Does that mean I don't have to do it?"
Rodney asked.  Sheppard grinned at him, and Rodney had that same
sensation of being locked in a room with a danger-ous predator.  
	"You'll be fine," the colonel told him, placing a hand on his
shoulder as they exited the room together.  It might just have been
Rodney's imagination, but that hand felt very warm and oddly
affectionate.  
	They set off at a gentle jog which Rodney was surprised to find he
was able to maintain.  What also surprised him was that the colonel
seemed to have a pathological need to talk while running, which
struck him as frankly weird-it was hard enough to breathe as it was
without also having to make intelligent conversation.
	"Why did you work so late last night when you knew you had to be up
early this morn-ing?" the colonel said, and he wasn't even remotely
out of breath-not even a hint of sweat on him.  Rodney guessed that
their current pace was barely a whisker above walking for him.
	"There's...a...lot...to...be...done," he replied, between panting
breaths.  "QDD won't fix itself."
	"Yeah, but you have Rodney Sheppard and all your team working on
it, right?" the colo-nel asked.  
	"You don't understand, there's weeks of work to be done," Rodney
said, stopping for a moment to get his breath back, putting his hands
on his knees as he panted.  
	Sheppard circled him, still jogging, in a way that was incredibly
annoying.  "You can't work at this pace for weeks," he said.
	"I can."  Rodney jutted out his jaw obstinately.  
	"You'll be a wreck."
	"So?"  Rodney shrugged.
	"So...I'm just saying...  Rodney Sheppard has more personally
invested in this than you do because he wants to go home, but I'm
betting he wasn't there with you until one last night."
	"No, in fact he's totally work-shy," Rodney grumbled, ambling
forwards again as Shep-pard set off once more.  "He never works later
than seven."
	"Do any of the rest of the team?" Sheppard asked.  
	Rodney frowned.  "I haven't asked them to.  I like working on my
own, anyway.  Fewer people to get in the way."
	"Maybe you should give yourself a break, Rodney," Sheppard said
softly.  "If Rodney Sheppard isn't pushing to get home early, then
why the hell should you work yourself into the ground?  I know you
feel guilty about bringing them here in the first place, but it won't
help any-one if you keel over with exhaustion because of this."
	"Your concern is touching, Colonel, but the hours I work really
aren't any of your busi-ness," Rodney pointed out.  "Now, if you
don't mind, I need all my breath for this pointless waste of energy,
so perhaps you could shut up?"
	They jogged to the practice room in silence, and when they arrived
there, Rodney flung himself down on a bench, feeling utterly
exhausted.  He glanced at his watch and was appalled to find it was
only twenty past six.  He couldn't believe he still had another forty
minutes of this.
	"Okay, a few stretches and then we'll start," the colonel said,
gesturing to Rodney to get up.  "First of all, I'm going to teach you
how to fall."
	"That sounds very helpful," Rodney muttered.  "I thought the whole
point of this was that I learned how to fight?"
	"Yeah, but I confidently predict that in learning how to fight,
you're going to be taking a hell of a lot of falls in the next few
weeks," the colonel told him with a broad grin.  "And I want to teach
you how to fall properly, so you don't hurt yourself." 

*                       *                       *


	Rodney had the beginnings of a bad headache ten minutes later,
after having been thrown onto the exercise mat more times than he
could count.  He was pretty sure that he was becoming good at
falling, though, and if faced by any hordes of hostile aliens, he
felt sure he would be able to impress them by his ability to throw
himself to the ground.
	"Great.  You're doing well," Sheppard said, holding out a sweaty
hand to pull him up for the umpteenth time.  Rodney groaned, his body
aching from all the unaccustomed exercise.  "I think we can move on
to something more interesting now."
	He went over to the side of the room and returned with what Rodney
always thought of as 'Teyla's sticks,' although he was sure they had
some technical term that he couldn't be both-ered to retain in his
memory.  
	"Here."  Sheppard tossed them to him and Rodney fumbled the catch,
so they clattered onto the floor.  Rodney stumbled after them, hating
this whole thing.  Really, it seemed to him, it was just a giant
excuse to humiliate him, although he had to admit that Sheppard
didn't seem to be taking any particular pleasure in his discomfort
and had mainly been encouraging through-out.
	Sheppard showed him a few moves that looked completely simple in
slow motion, but when he came to actually advance on the colonel,
somehow he found his hands and legs didn't move at the same pace and
Sheppard thwacked him soundly on his arm and the back of his legs.
	"Ow and ow," Rodney complained, glowering at him.
	"Well, concentrate, then," Sheppard said, grinning back.  "I know
you can do better than that."
	Rodney wasn't entirely sure why he was laboring under that
delusion, but he tried to be faster the next time around-with a
fairly similar result.
	"This really isn't as much fun for me as it is for you," he griped.  
	Sheppard shook his head.  "It takes a while to pick it up, but
you're doing well," he re-plied.
	"So...I've been thinking about what you said earlier," Rodney said,
trying to twirl one of the sticks and failing miserably.  He caught
it awkwardly before it spun off out of his reach en-tirely.  "About
spending an hour a day in my lab.  You're obviously an intelligent
man, Colonel-there's the whole MENSA thing apart from anything else-
so why did you end up going into the military of all places?  You
could have done so much more with your life."
	"Ouch."  Sheppard pulled a face.  "But no, this is good.  You're
trying to psyche me out, to distract me.  I get it."  He did a
perfect flip with one of his sticks and grinned at Rodney again.
	Rodney advanced on him determinedly, slightly annoyed that his ploy
had been seen through so easily, but still fairly confident that he
could distract the colonel, anyway.  The other man had his hot
buttons and Rodney was pretty sure he knew how to push them.  
	"I was a fighter pilot, Rodney," John told him, feinting to the
left slightly.  Rodney hopped back, out of reach.  "Did you ever read
the entry requirements for becoming a fighter pilot?  They expect you
to have top grades in every thing.  You have to make dozens of fast
mental calculations when you're flying at that level."
	"Hmm.  And yet, you could have taken those same qualifications and
gone anywhere, done anything, made a real contribution to the field
of human learning...instead of offering your-self up as canon fodder
the entire time."
	Rodney jumped forward, his stick raised high and managed to land a
blow onto the colonel's stick, which the other man easily deflected. 
They turned and faced off again.
	"I wanted to fly," the colonel told him.  "Always have, always
will.  Everything else was worth the sacrifice."
	"But you don't just have entry level qualifications, Colonel,"
Rodney persisted.  "I've worked with you-you've even assisted me on
some high level scientific projects and you're good.  For a military
man, at least."
	"Why, thank you, Rodney."  Sheppard feinted to the right and landed
a blow on Rodney's stick, but Rodney managed to deflect it just in
time and hopped back again.  
	"Usually, I find the military mind to be incredibly stupid," Rodney
added, making another lunge forward.  The colonel sidestepped him
easily and landed a tap on Rodney's ass.  Rodney growled and turned,
fast, sticks raised again.  "I just think it's a waste, that's all,"
Rodney said.  "Maybe you were afraid of failing in a more cerebral
arena?  Maybe you didn't want to put your-self to the test, Colonel."
	"Maybe," Sheppard chuckled, but Rodney thought he might be getting
to him.  "One thing I was wondering-back in the puddle jumper, when
you were out of it, you called me John.  It struck me then, you
always call me Colonel, or Sheppard-but you've never called me John,
before or since," the colonel said, circling him again.  Rodney
frowned.  "You call Carson and Elizabeth by their first names, but
not me.  Why is that?" Sheppard asked.  
	Rodney shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.  "I've worked with the
military for a long time, Colonel," he said, feeling the sweat
trickle down the side of his face.  "I know how obsessed you all are
by your rank."  Rodney brushed his arm angrily across his forehead to
stop the sweat from dripping into his eyes.  Sheppard, by comparison,
still looked as fresh as a daisy.  
	"Not all of us," Sheppard replied, running forward and nearly
knocking both Rodney's sticks out of his hands.  Rodney turned just
as Sheppard struck a glancing blow to his hip.  
	"That hurt!  And, yes, pretty much all of you.  Take you, for
example, and how annoyed you were when you found out that your
counterpart in another universe outranked you.  That really upset
you."
	Rodney lunged in wildly, was caught off balance, and only just
managed to escape with-out being knocked to the floor.  He took two
hard swats to his ass as Sheppard passed him, though.
	"Word of advice, Rodney.  Distraction is one thing, but pissing
people off can be counter-productive," Sheppard growled.  
	"And you were ridiculously pleased when you got the promotion to
lieutenant colonel," Rodney continued, gathering himself up and
moving forwards again, figuring that attack was the best method of
defense.  Their sticks clashed and then got tangled and they pushed
against each other for several seconds.  Rodney could feel the
colonel overwhelming him with his supe-rior strength and experience
and he went down on one knee, their sticks still locked.
	"You're right.  I liked the promotion," Sheppard said, in a soft,
silky tone.  "But I don't need to be reminded of it every minute of
every day.  Call me John."
	"No," Rodney hissed, his other knee going so that he was now on
both knees, his sticks still locked with Sheppard's, his arms shaking
from the effort of trying to hold the other man back.
	"Why not?" Sheppard asked, and his face was close-too close-and
Rodney was re-minded of that panther again, power barely leashed.  
	Why not?  Rodney didn't know why not, just that if he started
calling the colonel 'John,' then he'd start thinking of him that way,
too, and if he started doing that....  He wasn't sure how that would
end.  
	"It's just a name.  It's just the same as how you address
Elizabeth, and Carson, and Radek and just about everyone else.  It
doesn't mean anything," Sheppard said.  
	Rodney gave in, his arms dropping, and he slumped back on the
floor, panting and cov-ered in sweat, defeated.  Sheppard loomed over
him and held out a hand to help him up.
	"That was good," he said, with a little grin.  "You're learning,
Rodney."
	"Thank you," Rodney replied, taking the proffered hand and heaving
himself to his feet.  He paused for a moment, looking into Sheppard's
hazel eyes which were gazing at him expec-tantly.  "Colonel," Rodney
added softly. 
	 Sheppard gave a barely perceptible sigh and Rodney turned away,
glad the drill session was over.  He knew that he couldn't call
Sheppard 'John.'  Not because it didn't mean anything, but precisely
because it did.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney's life didn't improve over the next couple of weeks.  He
found the drill sessions with Colonel Sheppard oddly disconcerting. 
He'd never yet found a way to defeat the other man with those damn
sticks, and there was a permanent level of tension between them when
they fought which Rodney found both exhilarating and exhausting.  It
wasn't even as if he disliked the man-he wished that he did-but the
truth was that being with Colonel Sheppard, sniping with him,
laughing at him and generally exchanging childish insults was fun and
they both enjoyed it.  All the same, he couldn't shake that feeling
that the colonel was like a panther, all tightly con-trolled power
and as dangerous as any predator, and more and more, he got the
strange sensa-tion that he was the colonel's prey.  It was an
uncomfortable feeling, and yet weirdly exciting at the same time.
	The drills were the least of his problems, though.  His main
headache was his daily life in the lab.  Rodney was used to being the
emperor of his own little kingdom during his working life.  He ruled
his lab with a mixture of irascibility and intellectual enthusiasm
and he was used to his staff leaping around to accommodate his moods.
Only now there were two of him, and they were both used to being in
charge in the lab, and neither of them wanted to give an inch.
	Rodney found everything about his counterpart irritating, from the
way he clicked his fin-gers when he was excited to his relationship
with the general, but most of all he hated the way the other man had
barged into his lab and tried to take over.  And the worst part of it
was that he got the distinct impression that all his staff liked the
other Rodney much more than they liked him.
	Rodney Sheppard giggled inanely at the most inopportune moments; he
stopped every-one for a consolatory donut and coffee break when their
work had gone spectacularly wrong, and he generally zoomed around the
lab making friends and being nice to people when it wasn't remotely
necessary.  Rodney hated him.  It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd
been less intelli-gent than Rodney, but he wasn't-he was on Rodney's
exact same level and Rodney realized for the first time in his life
just how much he relied upon his genius to make him feel special, in
the absence of anything else in his life to feel special about.  Now
he wasn't even special any more because Rodney Sheppard could do what
he could, understand the level of theoretical physics that he
understood, and generally keep up with him effortlessly in arguments-
which was never a good thing as far as Rodney was concerned.
	After a couple of weeks enclosed in the confined space of the lab
with him, Rodney was close to boiling point.  He watched, sulkily, as
his counterpart sauntered into the lab one morn-ing, clapping his
hands together and raring to go.
	"Okay, people, gather round.  I've been thinking of a way to halve
the recovery time on the crystals between imaging sessions," he
announced.  
	Rodney glared at him.  "Well, that sounds good, but perhaps you
should run it past me first," he said.  "In case it won't work."
	"It'll work," his counterpart said loftily.
	"And it might not and this is my lab, so you ask first," Rodney
snapped.  His staff all shifted uneasily, clearly sensing yet another
flare-up between the two men.
	"Okay.  If you want to waste an hour in pointless explanations,
then why not?" the other Rodney snapped back.
	"Oh, I'm sorry, are we on the clock here?"  Rodney raised an
eyebrow.  "If so, then per-haps you'd be more concerned about the
fact that we've all been here for over an hour already while you just
showed up."
	"Well, I was busy thinking this through in my quarters because you
make it impossible to think at all in here."
	"We could have thought it through together if you'd seen fit to
bring it to me instead of just announcing it to everyone else first!"
Rodney practically shouted.
	"Uh, perhaps it is time for a coffee break?" Radek suggested
meekly, positioning himself between the two men.
	"Fine.  Yes.  Caffeine always solves everything," Rodney growled,
returning to what he'd been doing before he'd been so irritatingly
interrupted.
	He watched, still glowering, as Radek brought his counterpart some
coffee and they chatted easily together.  That was another thing he
hated about the other Rodney:  Rodney had always thought of Radek as
in some way his-his to generally boss around and exchange ideas with,
and now Radek seemed to be spending most of his time with the other
Rodney; it was as if he preferred him.  Rodney didn't like that idea
so he bent his head again and tried to ignore all these unfamiliar
emotions.  It was impossible to completely cut Rodney Sheppard's
irritating voice out from his consciousness, though.  The man seemed
to have made it his job to jump up and down on Rodney's nerves until
he wasn't sure he could stand it any longer.  
	The day had got off to a bad start and things didn't get any better
as the day wore on, either, as the two Rodneys continued to stoke
each other up to boiling point, and by the even-ing, Rodney McKay was
on the verge of hysteria.  He watched Rodney Sheppard cozy up to all
his team, one by one, during the course of the day, until he was at
the end of his tether.  Finally his doppelganger moved in on Miko,
all guns in his charm offensive blazing, with the sole pur-pose, or
so it seemed to Rodney, of turning all his staff against him.
	"Hey, Miko," Rodney Sheppard said, buttonholing the sweet-natured
Japanese scientist at her desk.  "Are you still coming to dinner
tomorrow evening?"
	"Yes, sir," Miko bowed, nodding nervously at him.  
	Rodney bristled-he'd never invited any of his staff to dinner and
he really didn't think it was necessary.
	"Great.  We're having sashimi," his counterpart grinned.
	"Sashimi?  You know how to make sashimi?" Miko asked, in the
breathy tone of pure wonder that she usually saved just for Rodney
McKay.  Rodney felt a wave of intense jealousy.
	"Sure we do, you taught us," his counterpart grinned.  "We're
always hanging out to-gether.  You make us laugh.  Back in my
universe, we call you the Dragon Lady."
	"What?" Miko's eyes were wide with surprise.  "Dragon Lady?  Why do
you call me this?"
	"Because of your reputation," Rodney Sheppard said, with a sly
wink.  Rodney found himself gripping his tools extra tightly to avoid
throwing them somewhere.  "Everyone thinks you're so polite and
quiet, but you've somehow managed to acquire three subs-which I think
we'll agree is a little greedy; two sweet girls from the botany
department and one of the military boys who likes to kiss your boots.
Nobody knows how you keep them all in order, but John says you rule
them with a rod of iron."
	Miko was blushing furiously, looking up at Rodney Sheppard through
her eyelashes and giggling nervously, yet clearly utterly flattered
and beguiled by him at the same time.  Rodney McKay had finally had
enough and he flung his tools down and marched across the room.
	"Just...just shut up," he growled.  "And do some goddamn work. 
You're always drinking coffee and being nice to people.  It's
disgusting!"
	"You're just jealous because they like me more than they like you,"
Rodney Sheppard told him.
	"They don't like you more than me-you're just a novelty factor,"
Rodney snapped at him.  "With your collar and leash and endless
obsession with weird sex."
	"At least I'm actually having sex," the other Rodney snapped back. 
"You're always in a bad mood because you're permanently sexually
frustrated."
	"And you have to run whenever Daddy comes calling.  'Yes, John, No,
John,'" he mim-icked.  "'Where do you want me, John?' You can't think
for yourself, or feed yourself, or do any-thing by yourself."
	"And I can think of one thing that you have to do by yourself," the
other Rodney said, his eyes flashing angrily.
	"Well, at least I don't belong to anyone."
	"Nobody would have you!"
	"You are petty, arrogant, and a total...a total...loser!" Rodney
yelled, searching for the worst insult he could find.
	"Look in the mirror sometime!" his counterpart yelled back.
	Rodney had had enough.  If he stayed here, he thought he might very
well do something violent, so he collected as much dignity as he
could muster and stalked out of the lab.  He   wasn't entirely sure
where he was going so he was as surprised as anyone when his
footsteps took him to Colonel Sheppard's quarters.  He ignored the
door chime and hammered loudly on the door until the colonel opened
it, a bemused expression on his face.
	"Rodney?  What the hell is going on?  Is there an emergency?" the
colonel asked.
	"Yes, there is.  I'm on the verge of committing murder," Rodney
said, pushing the colonel aside and charging into his room.  
	"Let me guess-Rodney Sheppard," the colonel sighed.
	"He is....  He is the most annoying man I've ever met."
	"Yeah.  I know."  The colonel gave a wry grin.  
	Rodney glared at him.  "I am not that irritating!" he protested.
	"No...you're not, but neither is he," Sheppard said sensibly. 
"He's just...you, and for some reason, you really don't like yourself
that much."
	"I...I...."  Rodney didn't have an answer to that.  He just stood
there, gazing at the colonel helplessly.
	"You're looking really wound up.  Come with me, I've got an idea
for how we can handle this."
	"Does it involve sending Rodney Sheppard on a one way trip through
the Stargate?" Rodney asked hopefully.
	"Nope, but it does involve making you feel better," Sheppard
replied with a grin.
	"Okay," Rodney sighed.  "I guess I'll have to settle for that."
	He half walked, half jogged down the hallway with the colonel,
gibbering away endlessly about his problems with his counterpart,
completely high on his own nervous energy.  The colo-nel listened to
him calmly, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder every now and
again to guide him in the right direction, and then they finally
ended up, much to Rodney's dismay, at the practice room.
	"Oh, you cannot be serious!  I'm in no mood to get whacked around
by those bloody sticks right now!" Rodney fumed.
	"No sticks," Sheppard told him.  "I have something else in mind."
	"Like what?" Rodney asked suspiciously, hopping into the room after
the other man.
	"Hand-to-hand combat," Sheppard told him with a grin.
	"And that's supposed to make me feel better how?" Rodney enquired.
	"You'll see.  It's just a hunch, but somehow I think this will
work.  Now come here.  Come on...come at me...use all that energy to
throw me," the colonel beckoned.
	It was absurd, ridiculous...and yet, the way he was feeling right
now, it made a strange kind of sense.  Rodney didn't need telling
twice.  He threw himself bodily at the other man and tried to trip
him onto the floor.  The colonel caught him easily, snuck a boot
behind his leg, threw him onto the floor and then leapt on top of him
and held him down by lying across his chest.
	"Ow...get off..."  Rodney panted, trying to free himself, but the
colonel wouldn't budge.
	"Have to hold you for three seconds-unless you either tap my
shoulder or say 'submit'," Sheppard told him.  "Those are the rules."
	"Yeah, like I'm ever going to say that to you," Rodney retorted.
	"I'm happy to just stay here until you do," the colonel said and
then, for the first time, Rodney registered how all Sheppard's body
weight was on him, pinning him onto the mat, and the other man's
hazel eyes seemed very close.  Sheppard's body was hard and muscular
and Rodney could barely wriggle an inch beneath him.  
	"One-two-three."  Sheppard grinned, finally letting him up.  
	Rodney glared up at him.
	"Want to try again?  Come on.  You want to get your own back, don't
you?" Sheppard taunted.  "Just imagine I'm him.  Come on...."  
	Rodney remembered that stupid curly hair and irritating giggle and
the way Rodney Sheppard would finger that black leather collar of his
dreamily sometimes, when he thought no-body was looking, and how
somehow that annoyed Rodney more than anything else, and he got to
his feet and threw himself at the colonel.  Sheppard was ready for
him, though, and he found himself cocooned in a vice-like grip,
struggling to get free.  
	"Harder," Sheppard said, his voice warm and tingly against Rodney's
ear.  "Come on... fight me, really fight me..."  
	Rodney struggled even more, using every ounce of his strength, and
managed to get himself free, then lunged at the colonel again-and
ended up flat on his back with Sheppard lying across his chest once
more.  He lay there, winded, feeling strangely exhilarated by the
whole thing.  Sheppard was so close that he could smell the other
man's scent, and the colonel had him pinned down so that he couldn't
move, and, to be honest, suddenly Rodney wasn't so sure that he
wanted to move.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney Sheppard stormed back to his quarters after his argument
with his counterpart, feeling completely outraged.  It didn't matter
how much he tried, or how many good ideas he brought to their work,
Rodney McKay absolutely refused to give him any kind of a break.  The
man picked arguments where there was no need, and Rodney didn't think
he could stand it for much longer.  He stormed into his room, threw
his laptop down on the table, and kicked a near-by chair.
	"Bad day?" a voice said sympathetically from the direction of the
bed.  Rodney turned, surprised; he hadn't expected John to be back
yet.  He and the colonel had been over on the mainland all day and
Rodney had assumed he'd be late home, but instead he was lying on the
bed, gazing at Rodney with a quizzical expression on his face.
	"Very bad day," Rodney growled.  "I swear if I have to listen to
that man trying to patron-ize me one more time, then I might not be
able to control myself."  He kicked the chair again to illustrate the
point.  
	John grinned and sat up.  "Let me guess-Rodney McKay?"  He raised
an eyebrow.
	"Who else?  He's always sniping at me.  Little comments here and
there, all the time.  Dig, dig, dig...mostly about my relationship
with you and my sexual preferences...he's obsessed!  And he seems to
think he understands us when he doesn't.  He gets it wrong.  He makes
it sound like what we have-what we do and what we enjoy-like it's bad
or unnatural or some-thing, and that makes me furious and he knows
that, so he keeps on doing it until he gets a rise out of me."
	"If you could just learn not to react, then he might stop doing
it," John said wisely, swing-ing his long legs over the side of the
bed.  
	"I know, I know!  And I try, I honestly do.  He has a great team
and I love working with them, but it's just him I can't stand."
	"I like him," John said, getting up and walking over to him.  
	Rodney glowered at him.  "I have no idea why," he grumbled.
	"Because he's kind of like you, and I really like you," John told
him, grabbing his chin and bestowing a sweet kiss on his mouth. 
Rodney sighed and melted against him, trying to allow the kiss to
calm him.
	"You're back early," he said finally when John released him.  "I
thought you'd be late."
	"Me, too, but we got done earlier than we thought."
	"Are we eating in the mess hall tonight or are you cooking?" Rodney
asked, leaning against him.  
	"Mess hall.  I'll be cooking tomorrow night because I believe we
have guests."
	"Oh, yeah.  Miko."  Rodney had forgotten about Miko.  "It's weird. 
She's kind of like our Miko, but also...just really timid.  Our Miko
has that whole cool toppy thing going on underneath the quiet
exterior."
	"Well, this Miko might be like that, too.  We'll just have to get
to know her better," John said.  "I invited Elizabeth over as well. 
Should be an interesting combination.  I was thinking that next week
we should invite Colonel Sheppard and Rodney McKay, but I'm guessing
that's not such a good idea?"
	Rodney pulled back and gazed at him in abject horror.  "There is no
way I am spending a day in the lab with that man and then feeding him
anything other than arsenic!" he growled, disengaging himself from
his husband's arms.  "He's a monster!"  He could feel himself getting
wound up again, and he spun around, fists clenching and unclenching.
	"Uh-oh.  I sense another rant," John said, stepping back.  
	"It's just that he seems to resent me having any ideas or
contributing in any way to our work in anything other than the most
menial capacity.  It's all 'Dr. Sheppard, do you think you're able to
hold my laptop while I get on with the very important and complicated
work, or would that be too much for you?'"  Rodney gave a growl of
frustration and kicked the chair again, only nar-rowly missing his
husband's leg as he did so.
	"Okay, you need taking down," John said firmly.  "And I think I
know just the way to do it."
	"Really?"  Rodney gazed at him expectantly.  
	"Oh, yeah.  You see...I don't know about you, but I've been missing
some of the toys we have back home."
	"Oh, yes.  Me too," Rodney sighed, thinking of their extensive
collection of paddles, flog-gers, whips, clamps, chains, harnesses,
gags, cuffs, butt plugs, dildos and other paraphernalia.  They had
the items that John wore clipped to his belt, but they were just the
basics, and more for formal use than anything else, and Rodney longed
for the more erotic items that they had in their closet back home.
	"So...over the past few weeks, while you've been working in the
lab...I've been making a few trips over to the mainland, doing some
trading, offering up my services to help with anything the Athosians
needed in return for them making me a few items...  Hell, I even made
a couple myself," John grinned.
	"What kind of items?" Rodney asked excitedly, barely able to
restrain himself from hop-ping up and down.
	"All kinds.  Stand still and I'll show you."  
	Rodney made a conscious effort to clamp down on the high levels of
nervous energy currently coursing through his body.  Only when he'd
stood completely still for a couple of sec-onds did John nod and go
over to their closet.  He pulled out a wooden chest which was clearly
quite heavy, carried it over to the table, and opened it.  Rodney
waited for permission to take a peek inside, desperately restraining
himself from running straight over there to see what was in it. 
Finally John beckoned him over and he hopped to his husband's side
and then stood there, utterly dumbfounded.
	"Oh, God," he said at last.  "It's like it's my birthday or
something."  
	John grinned.  "Yeah.  Let me show you everything, one by one-then
I'm gonna take great pleasure in trying them all out on you."
	He pulled out a flogger first and Rodney ran his fingers through it
in awe.  It was soft, its long tails made of some kind of furry
animal hide, and Rodney ached to feel it caressing his shoulders. 
This was an item of serious pleasure.  
	"This one is the good cop," John told him with a smile.  "But this
one..."  He pulled out another flogger, and this one was made of
thinly plaited rope and was a much more unforgiving implement.  "This
one is the bad cop," John said, a look of anticipation glittering in
his hazel eyes.
	Next John pulled out a sturdy wooden paddle.  "I made this myself,"
he said proudly, holding it up.  
	Rodney fingered it, wondering what it would feel like on his ass. 
He suspected it would be loud and make a thwacking sound, but it
wouldn't hurt the way the strap did-John's strap was thick and hard
and his husband only ever used it for punishment, not for pleasure.  
	"I'm impressed," Rodney said, grinning delightedly.  "I never knew
you could carve wood."
	"Jinto taught me," John replied with a grin of his own.  "He wasn't
sure why I needed a paddle when I don't have any kids, but I told him
there would be a very deserving recipient."
	Rodney giggled at that and pressed a kiss to the side of his
husband's face.  
	A pair of butter-soft wrist and ankle cuffs were next out of the
box.  Rodney fingered them thoughtfully.  "These are beautiful," he
whispered.
	"I know.  It's the softest hide the Athosians have.  Only the best
for you," John mur-mured, his lips moving over the skin of Rodney's
neck as he spoke, making Rodney shiver.
	"I also got these," John said, pulling out some items of clothing. 
Rodney sorted through them, his big fingers gently caressing a silk
shirt in a dazzling shade of blue.  "I thought it would match your
eyes," John said.  Rodney swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in his
throat.  "And these..."  John pulled out a pair of black pants that
laced up rather than zipped, and some com-fortable-looking leather
boots.  "I know how much you hate the clothes that Dr. McKay gave
you.  I thought you'd feel more like yourself in this outfit," John
told him.  
	"I love you," Rodney told him, fingering the fabrics, loving the
sensual feel of them.  One of the things he'd found difficult about
being in this universe was the lack of sensuality.  He liked his
clothes to whisper on his skin, to comfort him, restrict him, or
caress him.  He liked the way silk felt against his naked flesh, and
the snug fit of his pants, the way they accentuated his ass for his
husband to enjoy.  Rodney McKay's clothes provided none of those
sensory experiences and he'd missed them.  Rodney turned to his
husband and ran his fingers through John's dark hair, loving the feel
of that, too.
	"Seriously, I love you," he said again, insistently, before
pressing a deep, heartfelt kiss to his husband's lips.  John's hands
went around his waist and slid down the back of his pants.
	"That's good," John murmured when the kiss ended.  "Because I'm
going to spend the next hour or so tormenting you by doing some very
slow, very exotic things to your body.  And by the time I'm done, you
won't even remember who Dr. McKay is because you'll be so bone-less
with pleasure.  It wouldn't matter if he marched right in here and
taunted you-you'd just smile and let it all wash over you."
	Rodney stiffened under his husband's caress.  "I'm not seeing that
right now," he admit-ted.  "But I'll take your word for it."
	"Good...because I want you to submit to me now, Rodney.  I'm going
to take you down, and I want you to give everything up to me."



*                       *                       *
	"Had enough yet?" Colonel John Sheppard asked, gazing at Rodney's
red, sweaty face.  
	The scientist shook his head, grimly.  
	"Think you can beat me?" John taunted, grinning broadly.  "Come on,
Rodney, you're a big, solid guy.  You've probably got a weight
advantage on me.  Use that."
	Rodney gazed back at him, an intent look on his face, and then he
lunged forwards again.  John wrapped his arms around him, holding him
back, but he was right-Rodney had a pair of broad shoulders on him
and if he could learn how to use them to his advantage, he could be a
serious opponent.  Unfortunately, he lacked a certain killer
instinct, which had surprised John when he'd first gotten to know the
scientist.  In the beginning, he'd assumed Rodney's bite was as bad
as his bark, but he'd soon come to realize that Rodney used words to
keep people at bay, and while he might say one thing, he often did
the complete opposite.  When they'd first arrived on Atlantis, John
had had Rodney pegged as a complete coward, but he'd soon been
disabused of that notion and had since come to view Rodney as one of
the bravest men he'd ever known.  The scientist had saved a lot of
lives, often putting himself at risk to do so.  He might bitch and
complain about the little things, but when it came to the really big
things, John knew he could rely on Rodney completely.  Not that he'd
ever tell the scientist that, of course.  The other man's ego was a
curious mixture of superiority and inferiority complexes and you had
to be careful about which side of it you fed.  
	John turned Rodney in his arms, got a hold on the scientist's arm
and pinioned it behind his back, then pulled him close, so that his
back was against John's chest.  Then John wrapped his free arm around
Rodney's body, holding him tight.
	"Now what?" John whispered in Rodney's ear.  "What would you do if
this happened offworld?  If some badass alien had you like this?  How
would you escape?"
	John could feel the warmth of Rodney's body pressed against his,
could feel Rodney's breathing coming in gulps, could feel Rodney's
hot cheek pressed against the side of his face.  He wished he wasn't
enjoying this quite so much, but he couldn't help it.  The general
had told him that if he wanted Rodney, he should just go for it, but
John knew it wasn't as simple in his universe as it was in his
counterpart's.  For a start, Rodney had never given any indication
that he would welcome his advances, so John had decided to take
things very slowly.  He'd sought out opportunities to spend time with
the scientist, often dropping by his lab late at night for a chat
while Rodney was working, or seeking him out in the mess hall.  John
was enjoying his one-sided courtship-and that's what it felt like to
him-a courtship.  Maybe that was a little old fashioned, but in some
ways John viewed himself as an old fashioned kind of guy.  He didn't
have any objection to playing a long game, either.  He'd just hang
out with Rodney for long enough to see whether he had any chance at
all with the scientist, or whether Rodney was completely and
irrevocably straight.  John thought that his tactics might be working
as well-it was him, after all, who Rodney had come to this evening. 
He knew that if this had happened just a few weeks ago, Rodney would
have gone back to his room to sulk or had a major explo-sive outburst
that would have been heard all around the city.  Now, though, he'd
learned to trust John enough to at least cautiously sniff at his
fingers, even if he was a long way from eating out of his hand yet.
	John tightened his arm around Rodney's body, and tried not to
become hard as he felt Rodney go still in his arms.  He wasn't sure
whether Rodney was responding to his own mood, somehow picking up,
subconsciously, how best to react when John was overpowering him like
this, but John loved it.  It turned him on and gave him numerous
jerking off fantasies to indulge in when he was alone.  Right now he
just wanted to push Rodney down, rip his clothes off, and slide his
hard cock into the scientist's ass.  He wanted to kiss those crooked
lips and make Rodney moan and pant with need, but John knew that
would have to wait until he had some sign from Rodney that this was
what he wanted, too.
	They stood there for a long moment, Rodney limp in John's arms,
until finally John whis-pered to him again.
	"Giving up?  Or just biding your time?"
	An elbow in his ribs answered that question and he released his
grip on Rodney, allow-ing him to escape, only to pull him back and
throw him easily onto the floor.  Rodney went down with a thump and
John threw himself on top of him, holding those broad shoulders
against the exercise mat with the weight of his body.  He wanted to
grab Rodney's arms, to hold them above his head and lower his head
and force Rodney's mouth open with his lips, but instead he kept
himself tightly controlled, just enjoying the sensation of Rodney's
warm body under his own.  Rodney struggled, but John held him fast.
	"You could always just say the word-if I'm hurting you," Colonel
Sheppard said, gazing down on Rodney with a grin.  
	"You're not hurting me...you're just irritating me," Rodney
replied.  He'd been growing steadily quieter the longer their session
continued as he came down from the agitated state he'd been in when
he'd first knocked on John's door.  
	"Just one word...then I'll let you up sooner," John said silkily,
loving the way Rodney's blue eyes were flashing at him.  
	"Not gonna say it," Rodney panted.
	"We'll see."  John reluctantly loosened his grip and allowed Rodney
up.


*                       *                       *


	"On your knees," General John Sheppard told his husband, in a low,
sibilant tone.  
	Rodney dropped immediately to his knees, gazing up at him with
those bright blue eyes of his, with an expression of total trust.  
	"Shirt first."  John slipped his fingers under Rodney's uniform
shirt and then slowly slid it up his husband's body, revealing
Rodney's naked chest.  
	"Hands behind your back," John ordered and Rodney obeyed
immediately again.  John fastened the new cuffs to Rodney's wrists,
and then clipped them together behind his back.  
	"Mmm, looks good," he whispered into Rodney's ear, as he ran a
fingernail down Rod-ney's bare back.  Rodney shivered and John smiled
to himself.  He loved doing this to his hus-band-he'd never had a
submissive as satisfying to play with as Rodney.  Rodney could be
completely hyper, full of high octane nervous energy, but John knew
how to bring him down, gradually, slowly, finally quieting that
endlessly chatting mouth and stilling the overactive brain, reducing
Rodney to a mass of sheer physical sensation.  It was so incredibly
fulfilling to John as a top, and he relished it.  In fact, it was
making him hard just thinking about it and he decided to deal with
that first so that he could really enjoy working on Rodney for the
next hour or so with-out his own sexual urgency getting in the way. 
And by the time he was done, he was pretty sure that he'd be ready to
come all over again-this time in Rodney's plump ass.
	John stroked his fingers over Rodney's torso, gently, softly, just
ghosting over the sur-face of the bare skin with his fingernails,
seeing goosebumps rise on Rodney's flesh.  He circled him, stroking
him the entire time, and he could see that it was all Rodney could do
to keep still.  Finally, John ended up in front of his husband once
more.  He undid his fly and released his aching cock, then took hold
of Rodney's face in his hands.
	"I'm going to use your mouth," he whispered, in that same low, dark
tone that he saved for their most erotic encounters.  "I don't want
you to move.  I want you to kneel there, and take me."  
	This was the first step in getting Rodney to forget all the
anxieties and irritations of the day and surrender himself to John's
will.  It might take a while for them to get there, but after a
couple of years together, Rodney was pretty well trained by now-and
John knew how best to get the response he wanted.  He caressed
Rodney's ears for a second, and then slid his hand around and grabbed
the hair on the back of his husband's head.  He jerked Rodney's head
back and his husband opened his mouth automatically.  John took
advantage of that to slide his hard cock between Rodney's lips, not
loosening his hold on Rodney's hair as he did so.  John let out a
sigh as he slid his cock deeper into Rodney's open mouth, savoring
the warmth of Rodney's tongue on his hard length.
	"That's good," he whispered.  "I'm going to go deep-relax your
throat."  
	Rodney was pretty good at deep-throating him, but it was easier for
him to do that when he was moving his head down on John's cock.  Now
John had him immobile and it was much harder to suppress the gag
reflex in those circumstances.  Rodney's eyes widened and John could
see he was struggling with it, but making him submit to what John
wanted was one way they both got off, so John wasn't about to let him
get away without trying.  He could feel Rodney gulping, swallowing
convulsively, and he used his free hand to stroke the side of his
husband's face, relaxing and calming him.  Rodney responded
immediately, making a visible effort to ac-commodate John's cock, and
then John was sliding in further, deep into Rodney's throat.  He slid
in and out for a long time, loving the way his cock disappeared so
far inside Rodney's mouth.  His balls slapped against Rodney's chin
with every inward thrust and it felt so good.  Finally, he backed up
a little.  
	"I'm going to fuck your mouth hard now," he told Rodney, in a very
low voice, barely above a whisper.  "I want you to take it.  Just
kneel there and worship my cock, Rodney."  
	Rodney gave a little moan and John grinned, seeing by the tenting
of Rodney's pants just how turned on he was by this.  He released his
grip on Rodney's hair, grabbed the sides of his husband's face, and
then sank himself into Rodney's mouth again, fast and hard, as he'd
promised.  His hips were moving like a piston now, in and out, just
one shade short of brutal, and Rodney was struggling to stay in
position under the onslaught with his hands tied behind his back. 
Only the pressure of John's hands on the sides of his face was
keeping him steady.  
	John bucked into him over and over again, loving the expression in
Rodney's blue eyes, loving the way he was offering himself up to his
top, surrendering himself to John's demands.  Then John felt himself
coming, and he held Rodney's face in a firm grip and ejaculated down
his throat.  Finally he came to a halt, his fingers stroking Rodney's
hair gently.  He stood there for a long moment, enjoying the way his
softening cock felt, still lying against Rodney's tongue, and the
little panting movements of Rodney's breathing around the sensitive
organ.  Eventually, he withdrew and tucked his cock away again in his
pants.  Rodney knelt there, a dreamy expres-sion in his eyes.
	"Up," John said, helping Rodney to his feet.  He undid his
husband's pants and then re-moved the rest of his clothes until he
was standing there completely naked.  Then John circled around him
again, drinking in the sight of him.  He loved Rodney's body and even
though it was completely familiar to him, he still couldn't get
enough of it.  John trailed a finger over his hus-band's broad
shoulders, reveling in their strong shape.  Rodney's body wasn't hard
and lean like his own, but it was nicely toned, and his biceps bulged
just the right amount.  John pressed his lips against Rodney's
shoulders and kissed them.  
	"I'm going to flog you here later," he whispered.  "Nice and long
and hard, until these shoulders are red."
	Rodney didn't reply.  He just stood there, shivering again.  John
grinned, loving how re-sponsive Rodney was to everything he said to
him as well as everything he did.  He undid the clip holding Rodney's
cuffs together and allowed his hands to go free.
	"I made the most of my free time earlier to make some modifications
to the room," John said.  "Just some hooks in the right places."  
	Rodney glanced up and caught sight of the hooks John had fastened
to the ceiling and walls, and he made a little moaning sound.  
	"I want you spread-eagled.  I'll fasten you to the hooks above and
those set in the floor."  John nodded downwards.  "Then I'm going to
spend a long time playing with you," he promised.  
	Rodney swallowed, hard, his blue eyes wide with a combination of
anticipation, fear and arousal.  John loved that look.  
	"Shh," he whispered, running a finger over Rodney's skin again. 
"Surrender to me, Rod-ney.  Give it up to me.  You can't stop me,
anyway.  It's going to happen whether you fight it or not, so give it
up and let me do what I want to you."
	Rodney sighed, as if a huge weight had been lifted from him, and
his body was already starting to look less tense.  John grinned and
began fastening the chains from the wooden chest to the hooks in the
ceiling.  When he was done, he turned back to Rodney, bearing a plain
black blindfold.  He bound it tightly around his husband's eyes so
that Rodney wouldn't be able to see anything.  
	"You don't get to be in control," John told him.  "You don't get to
see anything I'm going to do to you.  You just have to accept it. 
That's all."  
	Rodney was trembling in earnest now and John grinned, loving the
way the power was flowing between them, back and forth, being
surrendered and being taken, turning them both on.  
	"Now the gag," John said, knowing how much Rodney hated not being
able to talk or scream.  Rodney stiffened.  "I don't want you to even
think about talking.  In fact I don't want you to think at all.  I
just want you to feel every single thing I'm going to do to you.  I
want you to con-centrate on that and nothing else."
	Rodney nodded, his lips trembling slightly.  John pushed the
leather gag between those lips, and buckled it behind his head, and
then he placed a little kiss on each of Rodney's cheeks, running his
hands up and down Rodney's body as he did so, until some of the
trembling subsided.  Finally, John took hold of Rodney's wrists and
tied him to the chains above them.  Then he knelt down, fastened a
cuff on each of Rodney's ankles, and chained him to the hooks in the
floor.  Rodney was now completely spread-eagled-legs wide apart, arms
stretched equally wide above him, naked, blindfolded and gagged. 
John sighed.
	"Oh, that's a good sight," he whispered, stroking Rodney's bare ass
with his hands, hold-ing it and squeezing it affectionately.  He
stood back for a moment, just gazing at Rodney, drink-ing in the
sight of him, bound like this, waiting for his attentions.  It turned
him on so much that he could feel his cock hardening again, despite
the fact that he'd so recently come.  It wasn't urgent yet, though-he
had time to play with Rodney for a good long while before he needed
to slide into that ass and claim him again.  
	Rodney was tense beneath his gaze, and John shook his head.  Rodney
was trying to second guess him, his brain working at top speed as he
wondered what John would do to him first, and John wanted to stop
that.  He wanted Rodney to submit, to stop thinking and just 
accept.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney McKay stood in the practice room, his breathing coming in
heavy pants.
	"Had enough yet?" Colonel Sheppard taunted.  
	Rodney shook his head grimly, wondering what the hell was wrong
with him.  Usually, he couldn't get out of the practice room quick
enough, but not today.  Not right now.  Right now, he only wanted to
hurl himself on the colonel, to wrestle him to the floor and take him
down.  He wasn't sure why, or how, but on some level this was
working.  He could feel himself becoming quieter and calmer by the
second.  He'd almost forgotten why he'd been so uptight earlier.  He
wasn't sure why being thrown around and generally sat on by Colonel
Sheppard was helping his mood, but somehow it was.  He could feel the
blood zinging around his body and he had a sen-sation that he almost
never had.  It took him a moment to identify it and then he realized
that he was simply glad to be alive.  This-this was somehow good.  He
didn't understand it and he knew that intellectually it made no sense
at all, but he couldn't deny how his body was feeling right now.  And
then there was Colonel Sheppard, standing right in front of him with
that endless bloody grin on his face, always besting him, forever
just a step out of reach, or able to turn Rod-ney's most adept lunges
into an opportunity to throw the scientist down on the floor.  It
was... annoying, and yet oddly addictive at the same time.
	Rodney caught his breath, and then began circling the colonel
again.  The other man moved as well, lithe and graceful as a panther,
and Rodney knew he couldn't match him in that.  He didn't have
Sheppard's speed or his hand-eye coordination, but Sheppard was right-
he did have upper body strength.  He just had to find a way to use it
to his best advantage.  It would feel so good to trap Sheppard
beneath him, the way the colonel had been doing to him for the past
hour or so.  He'd like that.  He'd like to be the one holding the
colonel down, being victori-ous over him.  In fact, he'd like it so
much that he wasn't sure he could give up until it happened, even if
they had to stay here all night.  Maybe it wasn't the colonel he
wanted to beat, a small voice inside told him.  Maybe he was just
transferring all his competitive feelings towards Rod-ney Sheppard
onto the colonel, but Rodney didn't much care one way or another
right now.  He moved in, feinted to the left, and then caught the
colonel by surprise, lunging at him.  He man-aged to get a firm hold
on Sheppard's waist, and used all the power in his shoulders to throw
the colonel down onto the mat.  Then with a triumphant growl, he
threw himself on top of him...only to land with a bump on the
exercise mat as the colonel twisted away from under him, and then
threw himself on top of Rodney, holding him fast.
	"No!" Rodney roared.
	"That was good.  You did all the hard work for me there," the
colonel said, that dark hair of his flopping over one hazel eye.
	"Dammit...!"  Rodney struggled with all his might and managed to
get one arm free, but Sheppard just grabbed the freed arm and thumped
it onto the mat above Rodney's head.  Rod-ney got his other arm free,
but Sheppard just did the same with that.  Now he was kneeling on
Rodney's body, both his hands tight around Rodney's wrists, holding
his arms above his head, holding him down.  Rodney wriggled and
writhed, but he was held fast.  All he could see were Sheppard's
amused hazel eyes and he could smell the other man's sweat; it was
all so incredi-bly raw and basic.  Rodney struggled again, giving it
everything he could, and then, finally he slumped back, feeling
exhausted.  
	"Submit?" Sheppard asked, his white teeth seeming very close to
Rodney's face.  Rod-ney shook his head mutely.  The colonel's
expression changed, and he slammed Rodney's hands down above his head
again.  "Got you, Rodney," he hissed.  "You're not going anywhere
until you say it."  
	Suddenly the colonel's hazel eyes didn't look so amused any more. 
They looked dan-gerous, as if he could kill Rodney without even
thinking about it.  Just slip a hand around his neck and squeeze, or
bite down hard on his jugular with his teeth....  Rodney gazed up at
him for a long time, lost in the moment.  He felt tired-and all those
emotions he'd been feeling about his counterpart seemed to have
disappeared.  His shoulders felt loose and open, free of the tension
that had been in them earlier.  He felt...good.  In fact, he didn't
think he'd ever felt so good before in his life.  What did it matter
if he said the word?  John-Sheppard-had done what he'd promised he
would; he'd made Rodney feel better.  Besides, Rodney had the feeling
that unless he said the word, Sheppard wouldn't release him this
time.  There was just some-thing about the other man's expression
that made him shiver.  He could well imagine that they'd just stay
here all night, until he said it, before Sheppard would let him go.
	Rodney surrendered to the inevitable, allowing his muscles to
relax, losing all fight in his body.
	"Submit," he said softly.


*                       *                       *


Part Eight:  Sensory Deprivation


	Rodney Sheppard's mouth felt dry as he hung there, naked, exposed
and vulnerable.  He wondered what John would do to him next and
trembled.  
	"Shh...you have to stop thinking," his husband said, somewhere by
his left side, stroking his trembling body calmingly.  "Now, first
things first...cock ring."  
	Rodney felt the cold, unforgiving steel of the ring slide onto his
semi-erect cock.  
	"You know the rules-you'll keep nice and hard for me," John said,
massaging Rodney's cock into a state of full erection, so that it was
straining against the ring.  "Nice and hard throughout or I'll punish
you," John warned, his finger sliding up and down the underside of
Rodney's cock, making it harden still further.  "But of course you'll
only come on my command," John told him.  
	Rodney sighed, knowing that was inevitable.  
	"And I might not let you come at all," John warned.  "If you don't
submit to me, if you don't fully and freely offer yourself up, then
there's no way in hell you'll come today, Rodney.  And of course, if
you do submit, then you won't mind whether you come or not-it'll be
my deci-sion and you'll accept that."
	Rodney felt a warm mouth close suddenly and unexpectedly on his
left nipple and he let out a startled cry that was muffled by the
gag.  Rodney hated being gagged.  It stifled all his natural
responses.  He was such a verbal man that it felt like he'd been
stripped of his last de-fense, and John knew that all too well, which
was presumably why he liked to gag him.  Rodney relaxed into the warm
caress on his nipple as John sucked down hard on it.  He loved nipple
play, and could take quite a lot of rough treatment on his nipples
before it got too much for him.  
	John's hands and mouth seemed to be simultaneously everywhere as he
stroked, ca-ressed and sucked Rodney's body, trailing a line of hot
kisses down over his belly, and then up to his right nipple, before
sucking down hard on that, too.  Rodney tensed and then relaxed
again.  He tried to remember that he was offering himself up to his
husband, and that John could do what he liked to him, and his cock
ached at that thought.  He belonged to John, and if John wanted to
suck him, or bite him, or flog him, then he could.  Rodney just had
to surrender, to allow it to happen, to stop trying to second guess
what John would do next.
	There was silence for a moment, and John moved away.  Rodney longed
to feel those warm lips on his body again and missed his touch.  Then
he let out a shriek that was once again lost in the gag, as something
freezing descended on his ass.  Where the hell had John been hiding
ice cubes?  Rodney jack-knifed into his bonds, completely
pointlessly, as John slid the ice cube over his buttocks and then
dipped it deep into his anus and left it there, cooling his hot
flesh.  Rodney wanted to shout out a protest, to make some cutting
remark, but he couldn't speak, and he bounced against his bonds in
annoyance, which only earned a wry chuckle from John's general
direction.
	"Now, now, temper, temper, Rodney," he said.  
	Rodney let out a very muffled curse and was rewarded with a hard
slap to one of his butt cheeks.  
	"You're mine, remember, Rodney.  I can do what I like to you," John
reminded him.  
	Rodney fought it for a moment, and then hung his head down between
his shoulders, with a sigh.  
	"Good boy," John murmured, and Rodney could feel his hands
caressing his body again.  Then he jack-knifed once more as two cold
ice cubes landed, one on each of his nipples.  John held them there
for what felt like an eternity and Rodney was so tightly shackled
that he couldn't get away from the freezing torment.  "Shh, take
it...there's a good boy, Rodney," John was say-ing, kissing his
collarbones as he held those cubes against Rodney's warm flesh,
freezing his nipples into hard points.  
	"Good...good," John said, and one of the ice cubes disappeared to
be replaced by John's warm mouth.  The change in sensation was so
sudden and so acute that Rodney cried out around the gag again.  The
same thing happened to the other nipple and Rodney was screaming now,
jerking pointlessly in his bonds.  He could still feel the other ice
cube, lodged deep in his ass, melting cool water out of his body.  
	John continued the ice torture for several long minutes,
alternating the cold and hot until Rodney didn't think he could bear
it any more...and then, suddenly, it was over.  John squeezed the
abused nubs of flesh between his fingers and they were now so
sensitized that Rodney squirmed.
	"Are you still resisting me, Rodney?" John asked in a dangerous
voice.  
	Rodney shook his head frantically.  
	"I think you are.  You tried to flinch away from me just then,"
John told him.  "It's a shame.  I thought these," he squeezed
Rodney's nipples hard, making Rodney throw his head back, sweat
trickling down the side of his face, "had been tortured enough, but
now I think we need to punish them some more."
	Rodney shook his head frantically again, sure that he couldn't take
any more play on the abused nubs of flesh, but next thing he knew,
there was a clicking sound and then he felt the head of John's nipple
clamps tighten around his right nipple.  He knew these clamps very
well-they had been on the belt Carson had given his husband on his
wedding day and they were ad-justable so John could use them to suit
the circumstances.  John rarely used anything other than his strap
for punishment, but on one or two occasions, when Rodney had really
screwed up, he had used the clamps on their tightest setting, and
Rodney had learned to have a healthy respect for the damn things as a
result.  Rodney tensed as he heard John tighten the little wheel on
the side of the clamp and gradually it started to tighten around his
nipple.  He gave a little cry as the tightening continued, pinching
the nipple hard...and then, thank God, it stopped.  Rodney knew,
logically, that this was nowhere near the most severe setting, but it
felt bad enough.  He tensed again as John fastened the other clamp
onto his left nipple and began tightening that, too.  They hurt on
his sensitized skin, and yet he was aroused, too.  He loved it when
John tor-tured his nipples, good and long and hard, and he knew that
he'd have been disappointed on some level if John had stopped after
the ice cube torment, even though he also knew that right now he
desperately wanted the torture to stop, and for John to leave his
poor nipples alone.
	"That's good," John said silkily, his voice sounding somewhere near
his left ear.  "You look good now, Rodney.  All tied and clamped."  
	Rodney sighed, allowing himself to relax into his bonds.  His arms
were starting to ache, but he knew he had to endure a lot more before
John would free him.  
	"I like how good you look like this," John said throatily, and now
his wet, warm mouth was sliding down Rodney's back, kissing a path
down his spine and ending up on his ass.  He took hold of Rodney's
butt cheeks and Rodney gasped as he felt John's tongue dip inside his
anus.  It felt strange, to have that cold ice cube and John's warm
tongue inside him at the same time and he struggled with it for a
moment, and then just surrendered himself.  It felt so good-and the
more John worked his tongue inside his body, the nicer it felt. 
Rodney sighed, and felt his shoulders begin to loosen as he hung in
his bonds.  John rimmed him for a good long time, which felt
fantastic, but also meant that Rodney was more and more aware of the
ache in his cock and how badly he wanted to relieve it.  John had
told him he might not get to come at all tonight-which would be
cruel, but Rodney knew that it was by no means certain.  Sometimes
John wouldn't allow him to come, even when he'd submitted totally to
his husband's will.  It was just another way in which John reinforced
the fact that Rodney belonged to him, and even though at the time of
being denied orgasm Rodney hated it, he had to admit that there was
something about the way John exercised this control over him that
appealed to him mentally and kept their relationship fresh and
unpredictable.
	Finally, John released his hold on Rodney's buttocks.  
	"Now I'm going to undress," he said.  "You'll have to take my word
for that, Rodney, see-ing as you're blindfolded."  
	Rodney sighed around the gag, wishing he could watch as his husband
undressed, see-ing the image in his mind's eye of John sliding out of
his clothes, revealing that hard, toned body that Rodney loved so
much.  
	"I'm taking my pants off now," John told him, amid a sound of
rustling.  "Mmm, my cock is hard again, Rodney.  I'd like to take you
right now, I'd like to fuck your plump ass while you're all tied up
like that and you wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop me," John
purred.  
	Rodney champed around his gag, because he could think of a hundred
things he wanted to say in answer to that and the fact that he
couldn't say any of them was driving him insane.  
	"But I can wait.  There's some more I want to do to you yet, boy,"
John hissed.  "Okay, I'm done now, but you can't touch me.  Not
yet."  
	For one brief moment, John pressed himself against Rodney's body
and Rodney could feel the long lines of his husband's naked body and
the hardness of his large cock as it poked against Rodney's thigh,
but a moment was all John allowed him, and then he pulled back and
Rodney groaned in frustration.  
	"Not yet," John teased.  "You'll have to wait for that.  Now...how
are these doing?" he said, and he took hold of both the nipple clamps
and twisted.  Rodney cried out, bucking against John's body, but John
kept hold of him, twisting for a long time, while Rodney screamed
into the gag.  Then it was over, and John was soothing him with
little kisses on his cheeks and chest.
	"Hush, it's okay...hush," John whispered and Rodney moaned and
pressed against his husband longingly, seeking out his naked flesh,
wanting to be close to him.  "Mmmm, your cock isn't as hard as it
should be," John told him, sliding his finger along it.  Rodney felt
it harden again immediately.  "Too late," John hissed.  "I'm afraid
I'm going to have to punish you, Rod-ney."
	Rodney bowed his head, trembling slightly but accepting the idea
that he'd be punished.  He didn't want to struggle any more.  There
was silence for a moment, and then a whooshing sound and then Rodney
felt the paddle impact on his buttocks.  He loved the loud, thwapping
sound it made, and loved even more the fact that John had made this
implement himself, with his own hands.  He could just imagine John
bending over the wood, a thoughtful expression on his face, his
tongue protruding slightly between his lips the way it did when he
was concentrat-ing hard.  The paddle thwapped back down again.  It
stung, but it was a nice sting.  The paddle John had made was a
light, thin implement, so it didn't pack a lot of weight when it hit
home.  It was nothing like the strap, which hurt, plain and simple-
the paddle just warmed up his ass nicely.  
	John went slowly, pausing every now and then to rub a hand over
Rodney's increasingly hot ass.  "Feels good, Rodney.  I wish you
could see it-it's looking pretty red now," John told him.  
	Rodney sighed and loosened up his shoulders another notch.  He
loved it when John toyed with him like this, telling him how he
looked and what was happening to him.  It turned him on even more and
he felt his cock straining harder against the cock ring.  After
several minutes, John stopped paddling him, and then Rodney felt warm
kisses land on his buttocks, followed swiftly by an equally warm
tongue.
	"Hmmm, you need cooling down," John told him and next thing he
knew, some more of those ice cubes were being pressed against his
burning ass.  Rodney sighed-this felt good.  John cooled his buttocks
down for a little while and then he moved away again.  Rodney didn't
even tense this time.  He didn't know what was coming next, but there
was nothing he could do about it, anyway.  He could only accept
whatever it was his husband wanted to do to him.  
	A few seconds later, he felt a soft whumph on his shoulders and
sighed deeply around his gag, relaxing even more.  This was the new
flogger, and it was beautiful.  John used it to caress his back and
shoulders for what felt like hours and Rodney started to drift off. 
This was beautiful-so sensuous.  Rodney was so relaxed that it came
as a shock when the implement changed, and something much harder and
more scratchy landed on his shoulders.  He recog-nized the plait of
rope that he'd seen in the chest and gave a little sob.  This was a
flogger with much more bite to it.  John increased the tempo and
Rodney could feel his shoulders start to warm and he began to moan,
stirring in his bonds.
	"Take it, Rodney," John told him.  "Take it for me."  He continued
flogging Rodney relent-lessly, until Rodney was grunting hard with
each stroke.  The flogger covered every square inch of his back and
buttocks, not letting up for a second, and now Rodney was crying out
loud around his gag, begging and pleading with John for it to stop,
knowing that the sound was inco-herent and made no sense...and then,
suddenly, it did stop.  A lubed finger slid into his ass and removed
the remnants of the ice cube and then another lubed finger was inside
him.  
	"I'm going to take you, Rodney, in a minute," John told him, his
voice sounding right be-low Rodney's left ear.  "I'm going to let you
down and then tie you up again, on the bed.  I'm go-ing to tie you
tight, and then I'm going to fuck this little asshole."  His fingers
wriggled as he said that and Rodney moaned with pleasure, longing to
feel John's hard cock inside him.
	A few seconds later, the fingers were removed, and he felt himself
being lifted and un-clipped from the chains.  He dropped into John's
arms and his husband held him up, stroking and kissing him, but his
respite was brief.  John half-led, half-carried him across the room,
still blindfolded, and guided him onto the bed.  He put Rodney in a
kneeling position and tied his an-kles to the corners of the bed,
fastening them wide apart.  Then he placed what felt like pillows
under Rodney's belly and chest and pushed him forwards onto them. 
Finally he took hold of Rodney's hands and tied them behind his back.
Rodney angled his head sideways so he could breathe.  He felt so
exposed like this, his legs stretching his asshole wide open, and he
loved that this was how John must be seeing him-naked and utterly
wanton, open and ready for him to enter.  
	A hand slapped his ass again, several times, and then Rodney felt
the bed give and he guessed John had knelt on it behind him.  His
buttocks were seized and he felt the tip of John's cock slide into
him.  Rodney's own cock was hard as a rock, but he knew he'd have to
hold on and he genuinely had no idea whether John would let him come
or not.  
	John pushed himself inside Rodney's ass slowly, up to the hilt, and
Rodney felt com-pletely helpless to do anything other than accept the
intrusion.  Being tied up, being blindfolded and gagged, made him
acutely aware of the feel of John inside his body, of that long,
blunt cock claiming him, inching its way inside him.  There was
nothing else except his asshole, and John within him, reminding him
who he was and who he belonged to.  Now Rodney knew that John was
right-he didn't care anymore whether he came or not, as long as his
husband was satis-fied.  
	John gripped his buttocks tightly and then began to pound into him
with slow, leisurely thrusts.  Rodney groaned, his prostate sending
messages of molten pleasure to his brain.  John's hands slid under
his body and he rested them on Rodney's clamped nipples.  
	"When I remove these, then you can come," he said.  "But if you
don't come then, you won't get to come at all."
	It was a fiendish thing to say.  It was precisely when the clamps
came off that they hurt most, and Rodney often lost his erection when
that happened.  Still, that was what his husband had said, and that
was what would happen.  Either he'd come then, or he would go without
this evening.  Rodney accepted that.  
	John continued to thrust into him, lazily, taking his time.
	"Are you enjoying this, Rodney?" he murmured, hands caressing
Rodney's back and ass as he rode him.  "Because I am.  I love seeing
you like this...your ass is nice and red and warm...."  He grunted in
pleasure with each inward thrust.  "Nice plump ass...all helpless and
open...just sitting here, begging to be fucked."  
	Rodney groaned around his gag, wanting to come, knowing he could
come right now, if only John would give him permission.  
	"I love your ass, Rodney...and this tight little hole that you save
just for me..." John was saying, and he knew how much it turned
Rodney on when he talked to him like this.  Rodney felt his entire
body go into a spasm of need, and he wished he could beg John for
permission to come, but the gag was firm around his mouth and all he
could do was accept his submission, and take John's beautiful, hard
cock into his compliant body and worship it the only way that was
available to him right now.  
	"I'm close, Rodney.  When I come, I'm going to take those clamps
off you, so you'd bet-ter be ready..."  John warned him.  
	Rodney knew he was ready right now...but he also knew that once the
pain kicked in, then it might be too late.  He had to stay in the
moment, stay focused.
	"Such a tight little asshole, squeezing me.  I love that you can't
move, Rodney.  You can't wriggle or squirm or do anything except
tighten this little hole around my hard cock.  I love that," John
growled and Rodney whimpered into his gag, barely able to hold on. 
"You look good when you're tied up, when you're helpless," John
added.  "When you've been flogged and spanked, when you've submitted
to me and given it all up to me...it's such a turn-on."  
	It was a turn-on for Rodney, too, and he was relieved when he felt
John speed up inside him, heard his grunts become more pronounced,
and then John was gasping out loud and Rod-ney knew he was coming. 
He seemed to take forever, his hands gripping Rodney's thighs hard as
he came deep inside him, and Rodney opened up even more, loving the
fact that John was leaving his warm come so deep within him.  Then
there was a moment of silence, followed, a split second later, by a
fumble of fingers on his chest, and then the pinching torment in his
nip-ples faded and Rodney tried to make the most of his window of
opportunity...but it was already too late.  The pain crashed in, the
way it always did when his nipples had been released from their cruel
prison, and he lost the moment and gave himself up instead to the
rolling waves of sensation currently assaulting his sore chest.  When
that had finally subsided, he realized he'd failed and he sighed into
his pillow.  
	John was undoing his bonds, stroking him gently as he did so.  He
unbuckled Rodney's gag, then untied his blindfold and rolled him over
and Rodney blinked in the dimly lit room.  John had ensured the
lights were turned down low so as not to assault his eyes, and Rodney
slowly adjusted to visual stimulus, gazing around blearily.  The
first thing he saw was John, looming over him, dark hair sweaty and
flopping into his eyes.  
	"How are you doing?" John asked him, smoothing Rodney's own sweaty
hair away from his face, and planting a kiss on his lips.
	"Mmmm," Rodney replied, lying on the bed in a completely relaxed
state, incapable of coherent thought.  John grinned and picked up one
of his wrists and massaged it between his fingers, then repeated the
massage with his other wrist.  Rodney just lay there and let him
work, completely out of it.  John moved his hand down further, and
slid the cock ring off Rodney's pe-nis.
	"So, you didn't manage to come, huh?" John asked, a little grin
tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he played with Rodney's cock.
	"Mmmm?" Rodney blinked, trying to figure out what the question was
and then shook his head weakly.  "No...  Doesn't matter, though."  He
smiled up at his husband adoringly.  "You're right...doesn't matter
at all as long as I can please you."
	Rodney was surprised by the look of intense love that flared in
John's eyes as he said that.  Then his husband bent his head and
captured Rodney's lips with his own and kissed him with all his
heart.  Rodney moaned and opened up.  The one problem with wearing a
gag was that he had missed the kisses that John usually gave him
during sex.  This one more than made up for that, though-it was
searing and passionate, yet oddly tender, too, and John wrapped his
hand gently in Rodney's hair and held him down while he devoured his
lips.  Then he drew back and smiled down on him.
	"You were so good....  I love it when you give yourself up to me
like that.  It's such a turn-on," he whispered.  "Now...I have an
idea.  How are these?"  He ran his fingertips lightly over Rodney's
abused nipples and Rodney hissed and jerked up immediately.  "Pretty
sore huh?" John said.  Rodney gave a little whimper of agreement. 
"Okay..."  John glanced at the clock.  "I'll play with them for five
minutes.  Now, you can push me away, if you want-I give you per-
mission-and if you push me away or tell me to stop, then I will.  But
if you don't, if you let me play for the full five minutes, then I'll
let you come."
	Rodney gazed at him blearily.  His cock was semi-erect again just
from that deep kiss, and the feeling of John's skin against his as
they lay on the bed.  "Okay," he whispered.  In truth, his permission
didn't really matter-and John was being kind.  If he wanted, he could
play with Rodney's sore nipples all night and Rodney didn't have the
right to stop him, but in reality John didn't force him down that
kind of path too often, although he did occasionally, just to re-mind
Rodney who was in charge and who he belonged to.
	John grinned at him, kissed him on the mouth again, and then dipped
his head down to take one of Rodney's nipples between his lips. 
Rodney jerked at once at the soft caress, and John glanced up.
	"You have to stay still, or I'll stop," he said.  "I need you to
surrender, to let me do what I want, even though it's hard and it
hurts."
	Rodney nodded, gazing at his husband in wonderment at how fiendish
and brilliant a top he was.  John smiled at him and then lowered his
head again and took the other nipple gently between his lips.  He
teased it for a long time, sending sparks of pure red-hot pain
through the abused piece of flesh.  He wasn't even sucking very hard,
but Rodney's nipples were so in-credibly sensitized right now that it
didn't take much to make them feel like they were on fire.  He moaned
softly, but didn't move, and allowed John to suck.  Then John moved
back to the other one, and took it carefully between his teeth and
pulled back on it just a little, squeezing the tip.  Rodney gave a
whimper of pure pain, but he still didn't move.  He knew he could-
that John would stop if he told him to, and he knew the price of that
would be giving up on an orgasm this evening, but that wasn't what
was motivating him.  Some part of him simply wanted to surrender to
John.  He loved surrendering to his husband, even when it was hard-
no, especially when it was hard, because that was when it was
sweetest and when it gave his submission the most meaning.  
	John's fingers were now caressing his other nipple, gently stroking
it, making Rodney shiver, and then his grip tightened and Rodney
started to pant, moaning loudly as the nipple was squeezed beyond
what he thought he could endure, but still he didn't protest or move
away.  It took every single ounce of his determination, but Rodney
was an extremely obstinate man when he set his mind to it, and he
wanted his husband to know just how devoted he was in his submission.
John released his bite and smiled at Rodney lovingly, and Rodney knew
his husband understood the place he was in in his head right now.  In
fact, he thought that John was in a similar place in his own head,
only while Rodney was concentrating on submission, John was in an
incredibly toppy place right now, completely on fire with his own
sense of domi-nation.  Rodney's submission wouldn't be sweet if John
didn't make it mean something, if he didn't take him places he didn't
think he could go, if he didn't demand those very things from Rodney
that were so hard for Rodney to surrender.
	John lowered his head again and this time he sucked down hard on
the same nipple he'd just lightly bitten.  Rodney squealed, but he
didn't move...and John stayed there, his warm mouth sucking down for
what felt like hours.  Rodney glanced at the clock.  Three minutes
had passed-he still had two more to endure.  It might as well have
been hours because each sec-ond was agony and Rodney could feel the
sweat bead on his brow and drip down his face.  
	John didn't go easy on him.  He moved his head again and took
Rodney's other nipple in his mouth and tongued it purposefully, while
squeezing its twin with his free hand.  Rodney gasped, losing himself
completely in his own submission, offering himself up to John for
what-ever torment his husband wanted to hand out.  That pain in his
chest seemed to go on forever, but Rodney was lost now, unaware of
the time passing.  There was just the fiery agony in his nipples, and
John's mouth and fingertips, just him and them...just his husband
taking and him offering up freely and that was the way it should be,
and it made him feel at peace with this strange universe they were
in.  Then, suddenly, shockingly, it was over.  
	It took a few moments for Rodney to realize that he'd been
released, so absorbed was he in his own submission, but then he
glanced blearily at the clock and realized the five minutes was
up...and next thing he knew, John was sliding down his body, and that
tormenting mouth was swallowing his cock whole.
	"Oh, shit..." Rodney whispered as John's tongue flicked over his
entire length, arousing it from its flaccid state immediately.  John
was as expert at giving head as he was in all the other things he did
to Rodney's body, whether painful or pleasurable, but this most
definitely fell into the latter category.  Rodney's hands clutched at
the sheets and he took fistfuls of them, groan-ing as John sucked
down gently on the very tip of his penis.  He could feel himself
leaking pre-come and knew that he was close, but John was taking his
time.  He alternated between licking the crown of Rodney's cock and
sliding his warm mouth over the whole of the helmet, sucking down
hard.  He dipped his head and took Rodney's entire cock into his
mouth, deep throating him easily, as he'd made Rodney deep throat him
earlier.  Rodney screamed out loud, bucking his hips up against his
husband's face, and John moved his mouth back and forth around his
distended cock, milking it, and then he drew back.
	"Come for me, Rodney," he whispered, looking handsome and crazy and
wild, his dark hair disheveled, his lips sex-swollen, his eyes alight
with some toppy energy all of his own.  Then he dipped his head
again, slid his lips around Rodney's cock once, twice...and then Rod-
ney was coming, and John was holding his hips tight and still
sucking, swallowing down his come.
	Everything seemed to go white for a while and then Rodney came to
and found John lying next to him, cheek resting on the hand of one
propped up arm, a loving grin on his lips.  His other hand was
stroking Rodney's hair gently, long fingers sliding down to caress
Rodney's cheek with each stroke.
	"So...imagine Dr. McKay was in the room right this minute," he
said, in a teasing tone.  "How would you feel?"
	"Dr. who?" Rodney muttered, never taking his adoring gaze off his
handsome husband.  
	John gave a delighted chuckle.  "I told you I could make you forget
about him," he said.  Rodney gave a little snort of laughter.  "Now,
next time he's winding you up, just take a deep breath and remember
all the things I've just done to you, and zone out.  If it's really
bad, I'll take care of it again when we're alone together.  Yes?"
	"Mmm.  Yes," Rodney sighed.  "Promise.  God, that was fantastic. 
All those toys...all the many cruel ways you tormented me."
	"If you weren't so incredibly easy to torment, and so amazingly
beautiful when you're be-ing tormented, then I wouldn't want to do it
so often," John told him.
	"Beautiful?" Rodney snorted.
	"But you are.  You should see yourself as I see you, when you're
tied up, when you're being spanked, when that plump ass of yours is
all open and ready to receive me...when I'm making you
surrender...you are beautiful, Rodney."
	"Hmm, well, I think of myself more as incredibly handsome in a
manly kind of way, but I'll take beautiful, if it pleases you,"
Rodney said with a dreamy smile.  
	John laughed out loud, and wrapped his husband in his arms with
infinite tenderness, taking care not to jolt Rodney's sore nipples.  
	"I'm just going to hold you for a while," he murmured in Rodney's
ear, planting a kiss on the back of Rodney's neck at the same time
and Rodney relaxed back against him contentedly, still lost in the
haze of his own submission, completely at peace in his husband's arms.


*                       *                       *


	The look that flared in Sheppard's eyes when he said the word
surprised Rodney.  He'd been going to joke about it, say something
like, "Happy now?"   But instead he just stayed where he was, still
pinned down under John's weight, transfixed by the expression on the
colo-nel's face, which gradually creased up as he gave a wide grin. 
He sat back, allowing Rodney to sit up, that intense expression
remaining in those hazel eyes.  
	Rodney rubbed his wrists where John had been holding him down, and
was about to complain about the red marks on them, but somehow, once
more, he didn't feel like talking.  He just examined the marks
intently, wondering why he was so fascinated by them.  John got to
his feet, and Rodney expected him to make some stupid ass comment
about the fact that he'd got-ten Rodney to say the 's' word, despite
Rodney's protestations that he never would, but John didn't say
anything.  Instead, he reached down a hand-Rodney thought it was to
help him up, but instead he did something extremely weird-he ruffled
Rodney's hair.  Rodney frowned at this very un-Sheppard-like
behavior, but he still felt too relaxed and out of it to say
anything.  Some small part of him was surprised by his complete lack
of conversation-he was never usu-ally at a loss for words.  Usually,
he could hardly stop himself from spewing forth on any endless number
of subjects, although often it was just whatever was going through
his overactive brain.  For the moment, though, his brain seemed to
have slowed down to what he guessed was nor-mal speed for everyone
else, and half-speed for him.  He felt as if he was doing everything
in slow motion, his body loose and lacking the tension that usually
made his shoulders feel tight and sore, and he suspected that he
might actually be humming, but he was too out of it to be sure.
	John was leaning over him again now, and this time he was reaching
out a hand to help him up.  Rodney accepted it and allowed the other
man to pull him to his feet.  
	"So...did that help?" Sheppard asked.
	"Mmm.  What?"  Rodney glanced at him with a tired smile.
	"Your argument with Dr. Sheppard...it had you all jumpy, but now
you look like you're sleepwalking so I'm guessing you've calmed down."
	"I do feel...."  Rodney drifted off, unsure how he felt, and his
brain was working too slowly for him to think of the right words to
finish the sentence.  Usually he wouldn't want to give Sheppard the
satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten something right, but on this
occasion he was surprised to find that he really didn't mind. 
"Yes...it worked.  Thank you, John."  He said the name absently, and
in fact barely even registered that he'd said it, and he also hardly
even no-ticed the little smile that appeared on the colonel's lips in
response to his slip.
	"I was thinking...it's about time to eat and the Daedalus docked a
few hours ago with new supplies, so there'll be good stuff on the
menu tonight.  How about we go straight to the mess hall?" Sheppard
suggested.
	"Mmm.  Why not?"  Rodney gave a contented little sigh-they always
ate really well after the Daedalus returned from Earth.  
	As they walked towards the door, Sheppard put a hand on his
shoulder and normally he'd have shaken it off, but it felt like the
most natural thing in the world right now.  In fact, it felt really
good, warm and solid and sort of...protective.  Rodney wasn't even
aware of it, but he leaned in, ever so slightly, towards the colonel,
so that his upper arm and thigh were touching the colonel's body as
they walked.
	The mess hall was busy when they got there, but they managed to
find a table and sat down together, side by side, bodies still
touching.  Rodney suddenly realized he was famished and he started to
devour his food with his usual gusto.
	"Hey, there's the general and Dr. Sheppard," the colonel said,
glancing up as the two men entered the room.  "There aren't many free
spaces.  Do you mind if I wave them over, Rod-ney?"
	"Mind?"  Rodney glanced at him in surprise as he chewed on a
massive mouthful.  "Oh.  Right.  Because of my argument with Dr.
Sheppard earlier.  Nope.  I don't mind."
	Sheppard grinned at him.  "You could slow down with your food,
Rodney.  There's no rush."
	Rodney grinned back stupidly, thinking that was a very good point
and wondering why he was eating so fast.  It must just be a reflex
action because he was feeling pretty laid back right now.  He began
chewing more slowly, gazing hazily at the two men who were
approaching their table.  They both looked kind of damp around the
edges, as if they'd just had a shower, and the general was doing that
leading his Rodney around on the end of his leash thing that wound
Rodney up so much.  He felt a small spasm of annoyance about it, but
was feeling too good right now to let the emotion take over.  As they
came close, Rodney found himself frown-ing, though.
	"What on earth are you wearing?" he couldn't help blurting out as
Dr. Sheppard ap-proached, bearing a massive plateful of food.  
	"Something John got for me," his counterpart replied, shooting a
look of sappy adoration at his husband.  He was clad in a pair of
tight black pants, which laced up provocatively at the crotch,
drawing attention to that area of his body, and he had on a
dazzlingly blue silk shirt, which clung to his chest and shoulders,
accentuating their breadth.
	"I think it's neat," Sheppard said, gazing at the other Rodney
appreciatively.  Rodney gave him a look of disbelief.  
	"It's kind of...revealing," he muttered.  Not that it should
matter, but the point was that when his doppelganger wore stuff like
this, then people could see what he would look like dressed in the
same way and he found that incredibly embarrassing.  
	"The shirt's cool.  Nice color-matches your eyes," Sheppard said.  
	Rodney glared at him.  
	"What?"  Sheppard shrugged.  
	"You're a guy.  How come you even notice these things?" Rodney
protested.
	"I'm a guy, I'm not blind," Sheppard said defensively.  "The shirt
looks good on him."
	"Well, thank you, Colonel," the other Rodney said, sitting down
very gingerly, a slight wince crossing his features as his ass made
contact with the chair.
	"Oh, God, not again," Rodney sighed.  "What did you do this time?"
	"Do?"  His counterpart gazed at him blankly.  "Oh.  Right. 
Nothing."  He grinned at his husband in a conspiratorial kind of way.
"I was just feeling...tense...and John took care of it for me."
	"That takes care of it?"  Rodney screwed up his face.  "Really?"
	"Oh, yeah."  Rodney gave that little giggle of his that always
irritated Rodney so much.  Rodney gazed at him, not even wanting to
admit to himself, let alone anyone else, how much that idea
fascinated him. He wondered what it felt like to be held down and
spanked - he didn't like being helpless and he still less liked being
hurt so why couldn't he stop thinking about what it would be like to
willingly go over a pair of strong knees and feel a firm hand on his
naked, up-turned bottom…?
	"So...you two are looking a bit red in the face...and kind of
sweaty, if you don't mind me saying so," the general commented,
interrupting Rodney's train of thought and wrinkling up his nose as
he took his seat beside his Rodney.  He forked up some food and fed
it to his husband and Atlantis' Rodney tensed.  He always found this
feeding thing so weird.  He felt his knee start to bounce up and
down, the way it did when he was agitated.
	"Yeah, just took Rodney through some wrestling moves," Sheppard
said casually, and as he did so he put a hand on Rodney's knee to
still the restless movement.  He left it there for a second until
Rodney stopped bouncing.  Rodney took a deep breath and tried to
recapture the peaceful mood he'd been in.
	"Ah.  Right," the general said smugly, looking as if he knew some
big, important secret that he wasn't going to share with anyone. 
Rodney glared at him now, but not too much be-cause the truth was,
the general kind of scared him.
	"The colonel is just trying to give me some lessons that will help
me when we go off-world," he said, jutting his chin out combatively.  
	"Okay.  Right."  The general nodded pleasantly, but he still had
that annoying smug look on his face.
	"Sounds good!" his Rodney said cheerfully.
	Rodney took another slow mouthful of food and tried to stay in that
nice, calm head-space.  He sat back and watched his counterpart,
noticing how he kept gazing at the general with a dreamy look on his
face.  The two men had always been close, and had never made any
secret of how in love they were, but all the same, Rodney had never
seen his counterpart look-ing like this before.  The tense, snappy
man he'd shouted at in the lab earlier had completely disappeared to
be replaced by this almost Buddha-like incarnation of the man.  He
had a com-pletely sappy smile on his face throughout the meal,
although he barely seemed able to make coherent conversation.  He
kept saying "What?" and "Mmm?" whenever anyone asked him any-thing
and he never took his eyes off his husband.  Rodney felt
uncomfortable as he wondered just what the general had done to him to
make him so happy and zoned out.
	He was in a pretty good mood himself, but he doubted it was
anything approaching the level of relaxed ecstasy that his
counterpart was currently experiencing.  The general seemed to be in
an equally good mood.  He couldn't keep his hands off his husband,
and petted him much more than usual-and Rodney thought that he
usually petted him more than was necessary as it was.  Now, though,
he kept stroking the other Rodney's hair or kissing his cheek as if
mesmer-ized by him.  Rodney grew more and more uncomfortable as the
meal progressed and kept darting little glances at Sheppard to see if
he felt the same way, but the other man seemed oblivious to the
embarrassment factor and just smiled back at Rodney, an easy look in
his eyes, no hint of discomfort in his body language.  When had
Sheppard become so at ease with their counterparts' relationship?,
Rodney wondered.  He knew the other man had been unsettled by it to
begin with, just like him, but now the colonel seemed completely
unfazed.  
	The two Johns got to talking about something to do with the
Daedalus and some tedious military chat about the Daedalus' weaponry
systems which Rodney allowed to go in one ear and out the other.  He
was lost in his own headspace, anyway, still trying to cling to his
earlier good mood.  He noticed that the other Rodney wasn't very
talkative, either, which made a change.  Usually, he and his
counterpart talked endlessly-or bickered might have been a more
accurate description-and the two Johns sat back and tried to get a
word in edgeways, but this evening neither of the two Rodneys was
very talkative.  
	Rodney was almost at the end of his coffee when his counterpart got
up to get some dessert.  Rodney watched him walking off, and noticed
how relaxed his entire body was, his arms swinging loose.  He seemed
lost in his own little cloud, humming some kind of happy song under
his breath and Rodney was surprised to see a couple of people
checking him out as he walked past.  He was pretty sure that nobody
ever checked him out and his counterpart looked almost exactly the
same as he did.  The two Johns were still wrapped up in their own
conversa-tion and Rodney rested a head on his arm, feeling drowsy. 
Out of the corner of his eye, he no-ticed someone approaching the
other Rodney and he blinked, surprised.  Kavanagh.  Damn, how could
he have forgotten that the other scientist was due back on the
Daedalus today?  Kavanagh was looking at his counterpart as if he was
something out of a zoo.
	"My God.  What the hell...?"  Kavanagh looked Dr. Sheppard up and
down.  
	The other Rodney sighed and glared at him.  "Do I know you?" he said.
	"Rodney?  Oh, no, I get it-you're the other one I've heard about. 
My God, this is price-less.  McKay must love having you around,"
Kavanagh sneered.  "I wish I had my camera.  You look...like a rent
boy or something."  He leaned in close, too close, one hand brushing
Rodney Sheppard's silk clad arm, and the other Rodney stiffened.
	"Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but back off," he hissed.
"Trust me-you really don't want to mess with me."
	"Oh, I'm just looking.  What's this?"  Kavanagh had a slightly too
interested look in his eye as he flicked at the pendant around the
other Rodney's neck.  
	Rodney Sheppard snapped out a hand and fastened it-hard-around
Kavanagh's wrist.  "I'm warning you...you really don't want to mess
with me," he said, in a low, hard tone.  
	Rodney was impressed-his counterpart really knew how to take care
of himself.  Even as he was busy thinking that, he heard a whizzing
sound and next thing he knew, a knife had twanged past Kavanagh's
head, narrowly missing his ponytail, and was buried in the wall just
behind his right eye.  The entire room went silent and the general
got slowly to his feet and walked purposefully over to Kavanagh. 
Rodney almost laughed out loud as the pony-tailed sci-entist slunk
back against the wall like a cornered rat.  The general walked right
up to him, invad-ing his personal space...and the mess hall inhaled a
collective breath, wondering what was going to happen next.  Beside
him, Rodney saw Sheppard scramble to his feet anxiously, ready to
stop a fight, but the general just smiled politely.  He reached out a
hand and Kavanagh flinched, visibly.
	"Excuse me," the general said to Kavanagh.  "I seem to have mislaid
my knife."  He pulled the weapon out of the wall and replaced it in
his sheath.  
	The entire mess hall exhaled en masse.
	"I did warn you," Rodney Sheppard said to Kavanagh with a shrug. 
"Jerk," he added for good measure.  
	The general leaned in close and whispered something in Kavanagh's
ear.  Rodney couldn't hear what he was saying, but Kavanagh's face
seemed to drain of blood and he went very pale.  Then the general
smiled at him pleasantly and patted his arm, before putting a hand on
his Rodney's shoulder and drawing him back to the table.  Kavanagh
immediately scuttled out of the room like a scared rabbit.
	"You know, we generally don't approve of knives being thrown around
in the mess hall," Sheppard said in a conversational tone when their
counterparts returned to the table.
	"I have a very accurate aim," the general replied, his hand still
firmly attached to his hus-band's shoulder.
	"Still.  There's a lot of people around," Sheppard pointed out. 
"Someone could have got-ten hurt."
	"There was provocation," the general growled.  "Nobody touches-"
	"What's yours.  Sure, I know that," Sheppard nodded.  "I think we
all pretty much know that by now.  I'm just saying.  That's all."
	There was a long silence and Rodney gazed at the general
surreptitiously when he thought the other man wasn't looking.  The
general had a very dark look in his eyes and it was noticeable that
he still hadn't relinquished his hold on the other Rodney's shoulder.
	"Uh-oh," John sighed a few seconds later.  "Looks like word of your
knife-throwing skills has gotten around."  They all looked up to see
Elizabeth standing in the doorway.  The general sighed and put down
his napkin, then stood up respectfully as Elizabeth strode towards
him, her eyes flashing.
	"General, I've had reports of a fight in here," she said, fixing
him with her steely eyed gaze, the one she saved for when she was
really pissed.  Rodney winced; he knew that gaze and it didn't bode
well for the general.
	"My apologies, my lady," the general said, bowing his head.  "The
colonel has already explained to me that my actions were not
appropriate in your universe."
	"There was a knife thrown?" Elizabeth demanded tersely.
	"Yes.  Nobody was hurt," the general replied.  
	"That's irrelevant, General!" she rapped out.  "We can't have
people starting fights in here and we most definitely can't have
knives being thrown around-somebody could have been killed!"
	"What I did would not have been viewed as unacceptable or even out
of the ordinary in our universe," the general murmured.  "But I'm
sorry to have offended you, my lady.  Honestly."  He bowed his head
again.
	"I should throw you in the brig for a couple of days," she told
him.  
	Rodney Sheppard got to his feet anxiously at that, making a strange
sound in the back of his throat.
	"It's okay, Rodney," the general told him softly.  "I will
willingly subject myself to whatever discipline you wish to impose,
my lady," he told her, standing to attention.  
	Elizabeth seemed surprised by that and she stood there for a
moment, clearly assessing the situation.  "I don't want to put you in
the brig," she said finally, with a sigh.  "I do understand that your
ways are different to ours, and you are our guests while you are
here, but I must ask you to respect our customs the way we have tried
to respect yours."
	"You are very kind, my lady."  The general bowed his head a third
time.  "I offer my sin-cere apologies again."
	"Thank you.  Then we'll say no more about it," she said, turning to
go.
	"Why do you tolerate him, my lady?" the general called after her.  
	She stiffened and turned back.  "What do you mean?" 
	"In our universe, that man never made it to Atlantis.  You met him
at McMurdo and had a bad feeling about him, so he never made it on
the team.  You talked it over with me at the time and I agreed with
you.  Why don't you listen to your gut, Elizabeth?  You have a bad
feeling about him, too, but you ignore it.  You're too interested in
being polite.  It's the same with the knife-you people don't like to
show how you're feeling, whether its love or anger.  Your uni-verse
is so polite, so constricted."
	"These are the rules we've chosen to live by," Elizabeth snapped at
him.  "Without them, there would be anarchy.  Everyone would be at
each other's throats!"
	"That's not what happens in our universe.  Instead, we know where
we stand," the gen-eral told her.
	"We're not in your universe, General!" she told him forcefully. 
"And I happen to like the rules of my universe just fine."
	Sheppard got to his feet cautiously.  "I think we have another one
of those culture clash issues going on here," he said in a soothing
tone.  "Nobody's right or wrong-it's just different.  Elizabeth's got
a point, though, General.  You're here, not back home, and to be
honest, it's been great learning from you, about all kinds of stuff,
and fascinating getting an insight into your culture-but we must ask
you to obey our rules while you're here."
	The general nodded at both Elizabeth and Sheppard.  
	"I understand," he said.  "I deeply regret that my actions might
have embarrassed or 
offended you.  Now...with your permission, my lady, I think we'll
retire for the evening."
	He glanced at his Rodney, who got immediately to his feet.  The
general took hold of his husband's leash and the other Rodney wrapped
an arm around his waist, and the two men left the mess hall
together.  
	Rodney watched as Sheppard went over to Elizabeth.
	"He does have a point you know," he whispered to her.  "About
Kavanagh?"
	"Yeah.  I know," she sighed.  
	"It'd be kind of nice to just ship him back home, wouldn't it?"
Sheppard said softly, so that Rodney had to strain to hear him. 
Elizabeth gave a throaty little chuckle.
	"Yes, it would.  Especially as he only just arrived," she grinned.
	"Maybe something to think about?"  Sheppard raised an eyebrow.
	"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, and then she left.
	The colonel came and sat back down at the table beside Rodney again.
	"Wow.  Way to go, Elizabeth," Rodney said, sitting back and folding
his arms across his chest.  "Standing up to the general like that. 
I'm impressed."
	"Yeah.  There's the thing," Sheppard sighed.  
	Rodney frowned and glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.  
	"Everyone finds him so damn cool," Sheppard muttered, flushing
slightly.
	"Wait...you're saying you're jealous?" Rodney asked.  
	Sheppard bit on his lip.  "Not jealous exactly, but....  You know,
back on that mission to PBX-250, nobody even questioned him when he
took command.  Ronon and Teyla just did what he said without even
looking at me."  Sheppard paused and gazed at Rodney speculatively
for a moment.  
	Rodney realized that usually he'd make a snarky comment around this
time, press one of the colonel's buttons and jump up and down on his
insecurities about the general, but he did-n't want to do that right
now.  Sheppard had been good to him today.  In fact, he'd been pretty
nice to him for a while now, and Rodney found that somehow he must
have started to trust the man, because instead of saying something
sarcastic, he put a hand on Sheppard's arm.
	"Go on," he said softly.
	"You think he's cool, too, don't you?" Sheppard said.  "Everyone
does.  I mean, I do, too, but I was just wondering...what is it that
you like about him particularly?  Be honest with me, Rodney.  Why did
my team follow him so easily back there?"
	Rodney thought about it for a moment.  Sheppard had asked him to be
honest with him and he thought he could do that.  Usually, his brand
of honesty was pretty brutal, but he didn't want to hand that kind of
honesty out to the colonel right now so he chose his words carefully.
	"I think...he's just very direct, John," he said, using the first
name on purpose this time.  "He's very in the moment somehow.  You
know he means what he says and he'll do what he says.  It's not like
you hold back on us, just that he's more in your face.  I wouldn't
beat yourself up about this.  We trust you completely when we go
offworld and you know that Ronon would do anything for you.  I like
your leadership style better, to be honest.  He's very sure of
himself, as we saw just now-"  Rodney glanced at the knife mark in
the wall, "-but you're more laid back, and, frankly, less scary."
	Sheppard grinned at him.  "Damn.  See, I'd like to be more scary."
	"I like you just the way you are," Rodney said, with a shrug.  He
hadn't meant the com-ment to sound sappy, but Sheppard actually
looked rather touched.  "Okay...while we're being honest.  What do
you like about Rodney Sheppard?" he asked with a sigh.  "Go on, just
tell me.  I can handle it."
	"Okaaay..."  Sheppard looked unconvinced on that score.  "He's
funny, he's smart."
	"I'm smart!" Rodney pointed out with a pout.  "And I can be funny. 
How come all my staff like him more than they like me?"
	"I don't think they do, to be honest.  It's just easier for him
because ultimately it's not his lab and he doesn't have to take any
of that responsibility, so he gets to have more fun around your
people.  Also, he really is less uptight," Sheppard said with a sigh.
"He's....  It's just I find you fun to be around, and he is, too, but
he's not climbing the walls every five minutes."
	"I don't climb the.... Did you say you find me fun to be around?" 
Rodney wasn't sure why that meant so much to him, but it did.
	"Sure I do.  You must have noticed that we do hang out together
quite a lot."  Sheppard grinned.  "I wouldn't do that if I didn't
like you."
	"Oh.  Right.  Great."  Rodney felt peculiarly pleased by that
thought.
	"He's just a bit more laid back, and he has that infectious
giggle," Sheppard added.
	"Infectious?  Seriously?  I hate that giggle."
	"I can't hear it without wanting to laugh with him.  He's also,
generally speaking, less likely to bite your head off."
	"He's always biting my head off!" Rodney protested.
	"Yeah, but I have to say that, nine times out of ten, you do seem
to start that," the colo-nel pointed out.
	"No, I don't!  If anything, it's six of one and half a dozen of the
other!" 
	"Okay," Sheppard nodded, putting up his hands in mock surrender. 
"But he's not like that with the rest of us, so it's mainly just you.
The pair of you seem to wind each other up."
	"Well, he's so insufferably smug!" 
	"I suppose he does come over that way sometimes - but maybe that's
just because he feels so sure of himself," Sheppard grinned.  "If it
makes you feel better, I'd prefer to hang out with you any day.  And
I suspect your team feels the same.  Like I said, you're wrong about
them liking him more.  I think he just makes more of an effort to
socialize with them than you do."
	"Yeah, what's with this whole dinner party thing he and the general
have going?"  Rod-ney frowned in distaste, although he was glowing a
little inside at finding that Sheppard at least preferred him to his
counterpart.
	"They're just a boring, old, married couple, I guess," Sheppard
grinned.  "That's what married couples do."
	Rodney nodded thoughtfully, and found himself gazing at Sheppard. 
They had had a few honest conversations over the past couple of
years, but he didn't think they'd ever had such an honest personal
conversation without snarking or making some joke to deflect from
what they were saying.  Rodney never usually trusted other people
enough to talk with them on a per-sonal level-he had very low
expectations as a result of a long history of being ridiculed-but
Sheppard was different.  The other man seemed to actually be genuine.
He'd been particularly nice of late, frequently seeking Rodney out
and dining with him, and Rodney had slowly come to relax and unwind
in his company, and he had to admit that it felt good.  Rodney
supposed that they'd been kind of thrown together as a result of the
unusual situation they were in with their doppelgangers being on
Atlantis.  No wonder the colonel had started wanting to spend more
time with him.  They were the only people on the base who understood
how weird this whole thing was.  
	"Hello!  Rodney!"  Sheppard waved a hand in front of his eyes.  
	Rodney blinked, realizing he'd gone off into a haze.  
	"You look shattered."
	"It was that bloody wrestling," Rodney griped.  "I bet I'll have
bruises all over tomorrow."
	"Are you going back to the lab or will you turn in now?" the
colonel asked, and Rodney noticed he'd gone very tense.
	"I should go back and do some more work," Rodney sighed, "but I'm
falling asleep here, so I think I'll have an early night."
	They left the mess hall together, and Rodney wasn't entirely sure
where Sheppard was going, but the colonel walked with him all the way
to his quarters, and once again he placed his hand on Rodney's
shoulder as they walked.  It was getting to be a habit, and Rodney
felt un-easy about it.  His first thought was to shrug the hand off
and make a snarky comment about it, but some other instinct was
stopping him, and he didn't have a clue what that was about.  This
whole situation scared him.  In his experience, the minute you
started opening up to someone was the minute you exposed yourself to
potential ridicule and that made him feel like running a mile in the
opposite direction, but at the same time he didn't want to.  He liked
Sheppard, 
dammit!  
	They stopped outside Rodney's door and Sheppard stood there, gazing
at him in that weird, intent way he'd adopted lately.
	"Thanks for...you know...whatever, Colonel," Rodney said, unsure
whether he was refer-ring to the wrestling or the honest conversation
over dinner, or maybe both, and feeling stupid.
	"Oh, I enjoyed it," Sheppard replied, with a glint in his eye that
made Rodney think he was definitely referring to the wrestling.
	"Yeah, any excuse to throw me around," Rodney grumbled.  He turned
to go, one hand on his door lock, but as he did so, he was sure he
saw a strange flash in the other man's eyes.  
	Rodney shut the door behind him, feeling weird-still spaced out and
hazy, but also un-settled and he wasn't sure why.  He took a shower
and as he soaped himself down, he noticed some little bruises from
their wrestling session.  He remembered how it had felt being pinned
down by Sheppard's strong, lean body, and he traced the bruises idly
with his fingertips.  Sheppard's breath had been warm on his cheek as
he'd pinned him to the mat and Rodney found his own breathing coming
in sharp gasps.  He closed his eyes to concentrate on the memory,
fingertips ghosting over the bruises.  He remembered wriggling,
trying to get free, and the sensation of being overpowered...and next
thing he knew, his hand had slid southwards and was wrapping itself
around his hard cock.  His eyes snapped open and he glanced down in
hor-ror.
	"You cannot be turned on by this," he told himself sternly, trying
to focus on his usual jerk-off fantasies, which were mainly about
large-breasted women pressing themselves against him.  Somehow,
though, it failed to work, and his cock softened.  Rodney rested his
head mis-erably against the shower wall.  He didn't want to think
about John holding him down; didn't want to think about how it had
felt to have his arms held over his head and John's hazel eyes gazing
at him so intently; didn't want to think about how he'd imagined John
as a panther, all sleek, dark fur, wild eyes and sharp teeth, gazing
at him like he was prey....
	"Dammit!"  Rodney realized that he was rock hard again, and that
thought completely freaked him out so much that he turned on the cold
water to teach himself a lesson.  "Not gay," he muttered to himself
as he stood under the freezing water.  "Not gay, not gay, not
gay..."  


*                       *                       *


Part Nine:  Double Trouble


	Rodney McKay surprised himself by sleeping like a log that night
and woke up feeling lazy and refreshed.  He sort of ached when he
moved, but it was a good ache, like all his mus-cles had been given a
good workout.  Rodney stretched, trying to remember why he felt so
good, and he had a sudden mental flash of Sheppard leaning over him,
dark hair disheveled and a wild look in his eyes, and within seconds,
he was hard.  
	Rodney glanced under his sheets with a growl of annoyance.  "We are
so not having this conversation again," he told his mutinous cock.  
	He tried jerking off, but his usual masturbatory fantasies failed
him yet again.  He lay there, struggling with himself, wanting the
release, but not at the cost of using the memory of lying under
Colonel Sheppard's hard, lean body in order to get off.  Eventually,
he gave in and took himself off for yet another cold shower rather
than have any release, but his good mood was already starting to
evaporate.  He got dressed and almost ran to his lab, eager to
distract himself with his work, a tried and tested Rodney McKay
avoidance strategy.  To his surprise, he was the last to arrive-he
hadn't realized he'd slept for so long.  He noticed Kavanagh,
standing at the opposite end of the room to his doppelganger and
casting malicious glances at the other Rodney every so often.
	"Great to have you back," Rodney said to Kavanagh, in an entirely
insincere tone.  "Did Radek fill you in on the work?"
	"Yes.  I was wondering why you seem to be devoting virtually our
entire team to this la-borious task with the crystals," Kavanagh said
sourly.  "What about all the other projects we've been working on? 
Have those been shelved just so we can get these...people home?"  He
looked over at Rodney Sheppard as if he was something he'd just
stepped in.
	"That's about right, yes," Rodney told him grimly.  "Our mistake
brought them here; the least we can do is work on sending them back."
	"Well, as far as I can see, it was actually your mistake that
brought them here," Kavanagh muttered.  "If only Dr. Weir had done as
I suggested, and limited tinkering with An-cient technology to a
properly approved committee of experts...."
	"Uh, excuse me, but nobody here is a greater expert on Ancient
technology than me," Rodney pointed out.
	"Which would be fine if you didn't let your ego run away with you,"
Kavanagh replied.  "That's why a committee would be a better idea. 
Now we've all had to give up our own projects to bail out one of your
mistakes."
	"You don't," Rodney said.  
	Kavanagh blinked.
	"No, no, no, you're right.  There's no reason to tie everyone up on
this and we are a little bit behind on our city maintenance
projects," Rodney told him, rocking back on his heels with a brightly
malicious smile.  "I noticed we had a problem with the sewage system.
Things have gotten pretty backed up on the lower levels.  You're an
engineer.  Here."  Rodney handed him a lap top and a bag of tools. 
"Get down there and figure it out.  Oh, and don't rush back on our
account.  It'll probably take the best part of a week to clear it,
but we'll manage without you somehow in the meantime."  He gave
Kavanagh another beaming smile and then turned back to the rest of
his team.  "Jerk," he muttered under his breath.  
	The other Rodney seemed oddly subdued and he sought Rodney out when
the others had gone to lunch, which was unusual of and by itself
because he usually liked to go to lunch with them, and keep them
amused by regaling them with a list of TV shows from his universe
that sounded almost like those from their own, but with some none too
subtle differences.  Rod-ney still shuddered when he recalled the
details of the alternate version of Star Trek.  
	"So, what's up with you?" Rodney asked his counterpart, thrusting a
donut into his mouth as he poked his head under the casing of the
QDD.  "You're being uncharacteristically quiet.  Where's all the
sexual innuendo and general obsession with all things kinky?"
	"What?" the other Rodney queried.  "I have no idea what you just
said."  
	Rodney lifted his head out of the casing and removed the donut from
his mouth with a sigh.  "You.  Quiet.  Why?" he asked, before
cramming the donut back in.
	"Nothing.  Just...."  The other Rodney actually looked genuinely
worried.  
	Rodney put his donut down with a frown.  
	"Would Elizabeth really have put John in the brig?" his counterpart
asked.
	"Oh, is that still bothering you?  I have no idea.  Maybe."  
	The other Rodney wrapped his arms miserably around his chest and
Rodney rolled his eyes.  "Oh, for God's sake-it's not like you're
joined at the hip.  He's been away from you be-fore.  You said that
when we brought you here, he'd just gotten back from several days
offworld without you.  It's not like you can't cope without him or
anything."
	"No.  It's not that."  His counterpart bit down on his lip.  "It's
just the idea of him being locked up, put in some kind of cage,
deliberately separated from me and everyone else.  I can't believe
you people are so casual about that."
	"Well, that's how we feel about that whole leash thing and
the...that other thing you guys do."  Rodney glanced pointedly in the
direction of his counterpart's ass.  
	"Really?"  The other Rodney just looked puzzled.  
	"Really," Rodney said firmly.  
	They both gazed at each other blankly for a moment.  
	"John's pretty upset about last night," the other Rodney said
finally.  "We are trying, you know, McKay, but you must understand
that our customs are different.  I had to actually work on him to get
him to allow me to come here without him this morning.  He doesn't
trust your people anymore after last night.  He's not sure I'll be
safe.  He doesn't think your people will respect me or my
relationship with him."
	"What's he frightened of?  That someone might-ooh-touch you?" 
Rodney rolled his eyes.  "What's that about, anyway?  I saw you
yesterday with Kavanagh-and bear in mind this is Kavanagh we're
talking about and not someone really scary.  The man is a total wuss
and you were clearly more than able to handle him.  There was no need
for the general to start do-ing his Indiana Jones routine with the
knife."
	"You don't get it," his counterpart said, shaking his head.  "In
our universe, what Kavan-agh did is...it's like a taboo.  Can't you
get your head around that?"
	"Not really."  Rodney shrugged.  "So his hand brushed your arm and
he flicked at your pendant-big deal.  Hey, what are you doing?" he
yelled, outraged, as his counterpart suddenly snatched up his donut
and took a big bite.
	"Annoyed?"  The other Rodney raised an eyebrow, munching furiously.
"Now multiply that feeling of outrage by a million and that's how
John was feeling last night when Kavanagh touched me.  It's that
simple.  In our universe, I'm protected by my status-I'm respected be-
cause of my status-and nobody would touch me without asking John's
permission first.  It's just our way.  I know it seems stupid and
meaningless to you, but it means a great deal to us."
	"That makes you sound like some kind of possession!" Rodney
exploded.  
	"I am!" Rodney shouted back.
	"Well, that's what I have a problem with!" Rodney yelled.
	"Why?  It's my goddamn life, not yours!"
	Rodney came up short at that.  It was a good point.
	"Maybe because I can't understand how someone who looks like me and
talks like me, someone with my intellect, could be happy being
someone else's property.  Why would you want to live in that kind of
relationship?"
	Rodney Sheppard shrugged helplessly.  "It's just our way.  It's
what we do.  It makes me happy.  It makes him happy.  It's voluntary.
I went into it with my eyes open and I can divorce him any time I
like if I'm not happy with the arrangement.  Where's the problem?"
	"Maybe you should try seeing things from our point of view," Rodney
said, trying to come at it from a different angle.  "You're always
banging on about how great things are in your uni-verse.  The general
was going on last night about how we're so polite, as if it's some
kind of of-fence!  Yes, we are polite.  If we weren't, then we
wouldn't have put up with you two the way we have, or be bending over
backwards to help you get home!"
	"Well, if we're so damn hard to have around, why the hell don't you
just throw us through the Stargate and have done with?" the other
Rodney snapped.
	"Oh, trust me, it's not as if I haven't suggested it," Rodney
replied.  "Luckily for you, the colonel is a more tolerant man than
me and he vetoed it."
	"Well, maybe that's because he actually likes us.  It seems to me
that you're the only one around here who's freaked out by us and we
both know why that is."
	"Oh, yeah?"  Rodney knew they were both behaving like five-year-
olds, but somehow that was how he always felt himself responding to
his alter ego.  
	"Yeah!  You've got the hots for the colonel and can't admit it
because of this weird 'gay' taboo thing in your universe-although
I've been asking around about that and there are some couples on this
base in same-gender relationships, so I don't know what the hell your
problem is, McKay."
	"Oh, just...just shut up," Rodney growled, feeling like someone had
stuck a knife into his gut and twisted it.  The other Rodney's barbs
had always annoyed him, but they'd never actually wounded him until
today.  Now, because of his recent masturbatory disasters, he was
confused and upset and didn't have a clue what to do about it.  He
just felt locked up in his own little bub-ble of misery.  


*                       *                       *


	As the days wore on, Rodney's mood didn't improve.  This was partly
as a result of his refusal to jerk off while thinking about the
colonel.  He was a highly sexed man and had been jerking off three
times a day for most of his adult life and now he was denying himself
that re-lease and that was just stoking up his frustration even more.
Working with Rodney Sheppard didn't help.  It was hard enough
struggling with these new fantasies without his counterpart be-ing so
easily and obviously in love with the alternate John.  That felt like
salt being rubbed into a raw wound as far as Rodney was concerned and
he just wished he didn't have to see his coun-terpart on a daily
basis in the lab.  Rodney didn't even have the release of going to
Colonel Sheppard for more wrestling, which had worked so well last
time, because now just the thought of it had him running back to his
quarters for a cold shower.  Rodney suspected he might be cleaner now
than he'd ever been in his life as a result of all this freezing cold
water and he was heartily sick of being so in thrall to his libido.
	He tried to avoid the colonel, but that wasn't easy as the man had
a habit of popping up every five minutes, or so it seemed to Rodney. 
He was always poking his head around the lab door to find out if
Rodney was going to the mess hall, or sometimes he'd come into the
lab late at night when everyone else had gone to bed and just sit
there, keeping Rodney company, those long legs of his stretched out
on any available surface, hands behind his head.  Some-times he
talked, and sometimes he handed Rodney various tools while he worked
and Rodney had to admit it was nice-although it would have been even
nicer if he hadn't felt himself grow-ing hard just from having the
other man around.  It was getting to be embarrassing and Rodney was
becoming more and more desperate.  
	At least work on the QDD was progressing well.  Rodney thought they
might be able to test it within a week and that meant that their
unwelcome visitors might soon return home.  He was sure his libido
would return to normal once that happened.  
	They were busy working on a particularly pivotal part of the whole
project one afternoon when the general poked his head around the door.
	"Rodney-I need you," he said.  
	The other Rodney immediately put down his tools and Rodney gazed at
him in amaze-ment.
	"You can't leave now!" he growled.  "We are this close to getting
the power source re-engaged."
	"Well, it'll still be here when I get back," his counterpart said
with a grin.
	"Oh, for God's sake."  Rodney threw his tools down and glared him. 
"Why do you jump to it whenever he calls?  What does he want, anyway?"
	His counterpart waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Rodney shook
his head in dis-belief.
	"You're kidding me right?  He's calling you out of here when things
are getting interesting just so that you and he can...."
	"Rodney," the general said impatiently from over by the door.  
	Rodney Sheppard gave Atlantis' Rodney a cheeky grin and then ran
for the door.  Rod-ney stared after him, utterly outraged.  He was
still outraged when his counterpart returned half an hour or so
later, looking relaxed and humming softly to himself.
	"Well, I'm glad you're feeling so happy," Rodney commented sourly. 
"What the hell is wrong with you?  Running out like that just when we
were close to seeing if the crystals could take the power surge. 
Don't you two have any self control?"
	"He wanted me," the other Rodney shrugged.
	"And that's the way it works?  He wants you so you just go
running?" Rodney exploded.  "Supposing you weren't in the mood?"
	"Well, then I'd still go running.  Although, actually, I don't
think I've ever not been in the mood.  And that is the way it works,
yes.  I'm his and he was horny," the other Rodney said pa-tiently, as
if explaining something to a moron.  "Look, that's just how things
are in our universe in the kind of marriage he and I wanted to have. 
What does it matter to you, anyway?  Just be-cause you're uptight and
frigid doesn't mean I have to be, too, because we look the same."
	"I'm not frig-"  Rodney caught himself with great effort.  "Let's
get back to work," he said through gritted teeth.  Only he found that
he couldn't.  He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that his
counterpart was so readily available to take care of his husband's
sexual whims...and while his mind was outraged, his cock was reacting
with its usual treachery.  They worked for a few minutes, but Rodney
couldn't concentrate.  
	"Have you ever refused him?" he asked, annoyed with himself for
wanting to know more, but unable to contain his curiosity.
	"What?  Oh...kind of.  Once.  I was working on something really
exciting in the lab one week and he thought I'd been working too long
and too late.  He warned me about it, but I was too caught up in what
I was doing and forgot to meet him that evening."  The other Rodney
paused and pushed a piece of wavy hair behind his ear so it wouldn't
get in his way while he was working.
	"What happened?" Rodney asked, hating himself for his fascination.
	"He came to the lab.  I told him to hang on because I was just
finishing something...."  Rodney made a little face.  "Next thing I
knew, he'd thrown me over the table and was ripping my pants down. 
Man, that was hot."  He grinned at Rodney.  "Kind of scary, too.  And
I could tell he was pissed and wanted me to realize I wasn't taking
our wedding vows seriously.  He spanked my ass a few times, then took
me there and then, over the lab table."  
	"Oh, God," Rodney breathed, wondering how it would feel if Colonel
Sheppard stalked in here one night and instead of sitting down and
putting his legs up, pushed Rodney down over one of the tables. 
Rodney closed his eyes, trying hard not to think of the colonel's
warm breath on the back of his neck, or his insistent hands fumbling
with the fastenings on Rodney's pants.  He couldn't imagine anyone
being that full of desire for him that they'd feel a need to take him
then and there, but the idea turned him on so much that his cock
immediately hardened in his pants.  
	"I need to...uh, check something out," he said, turning away from
his counterpart and running for the door.  
	He made it back to his quarters and threw himself down on the bed
while struggling to get his pants open-and this time he didn't stop
himself.  He wrapped his hand around his hard cock and imagined being
pinned down by Colonel Sheppard, imagined the colonel thrusting into
him hard while he writhed, helpless but willing, beneath the other
man.  Rodney came, harder and more explosively than he could ever
remember in his life before and then he groaned and buried his face
in the pillow.  
	He really didn't have any idea what was going on.  He had never
thought very much about his sexuality before, but he knew that he
liked women sexually.  It had just never occurred to him that he
might like men that way, too.  True, he'd never found it easy to
persuade women to sleep with him, but he assumed that was mainly
because most people tended to dislike him.  Although, now he thought
about it, there had been some very sweet women in his life, such as
Katie Brown, who had seemed genuinely interested in him, but he'd
felt so awkward around her that their relationship had never come
close to getting off the ground, or into the bedroom, and he'd never
really pursued it.  He backed off the moment a woman showed any
interest in him.  Was there a reason for that?  Rodney wondered what
had been stopping him.  Now he looked back, he could see that he'd
always enjoyed being around Sheppard.  The colonel had never
physically intimidated him the way the military boys usually tried
to; he laughed with Rodney rather than at him, most of the time, at
least, and Rodney had never felt more easy around any-one in his life
than he did around Sheppard.  Which all added up to what?  Rodney had
no idea.  He just knew that he'd jerked off to thoughts of being
fucked up the ass by his best friend on the base and now he felt
utterly humiliated and angry with himself as a result.  
	In the absence of anyone else to take it out on, Rodney took it out
on himself-both ver-sions.  He punished himself by becoming even more
ferocious with his freezing shower regime, and he punished his
counterpart, who looked so much like him, and who was so at ease with
the very concept that was so frightening to Rodney, by sneering at
him whenever he came with-in earshot.  The relationship between the
two men, which had never been good at the best of times, deteriorated
rapidly as a result, and Rodney found himself becoming more and more
iso-lated in his own work space as his counterpart gravitated towards
the other members of his team-which in turn just made Rodney feel
even more jealous of the ease with which he got on with them all,
particularly Radek.   


*                       *                       *
	Things came to a head two days later, when they were in the last
stages of getting the QDD ready for a test run.  Rodney was busy
under the casing-he'd taken to spending most of his working day under
there simply to avoid his counterpart-but he could still hear the
other Rodney chattering on to Radek and Miko and anyone else who
would listen, as they all worked on the crystals.  Rodney knew that
he could be talkative, but at least he usually kept it work re-lated.
The other Rodney seemed to hold forth on any topic under the sun.  
	"So, Will and Grace?" Radek was asking.  
	Rodney gritted his teeth, hating this particular game and not
understanding the appeal it held for the rest of his team.
	"Will and...?  Ah, right, you mean Will and Jack," the other Rodney
said, with that irritat-ing giggle.  "Will's a strait-laced
accountant, Jack is his naughty roommate just longing to pro-voke
Will into taking charge of him.  Jack barely makes it through an
episode without someone tanning his hide.  All very droll, although,
personally, I can't stand the show."
	"Desperate Housewives?" someone else asked.  
	"Desperate Houseslaves," the other Rodney shot back.  "A bunch of
neurotic submis-sives hanging around the house waiting for their tops
to come home and using the time to think up various schemes for
outwitting them.  Irritating.  They could easily be out at work doing
something useful.  I can't stand subs who give up any idea of
independent thought the minute they find some stupid, dumb top to
take care of them."
	"Oh, I'm sorry," Rodney said, poking his head out from under the
casing.  "Because that's different to the way you act how, exactly?"
	His counterpart glared at him.  "Well, the fact I'm here, for a
start, working on this, and not sitting in our quarters in a thong
and some handcuffs, waiting for John to come home."
	"Oh, I really didn't need that mental image, thank you very much,"
Rodney growled.
	"Well, shut up and stop interrupting, then," his counterpart said.  
	The rest of the team all sighed and turned back to their work.  
	"Don't tell me to shut up in my own lab," Rodney snapped, sliding
out from under the casing and getting up.  
	"Well, stop insulting me, then," the other Rodney said.
	"I think we will take a coffee break," Radek said smoothly,
gathering up the rest of the team and ushering them out of the door. 
He'd taken to doing this every time the rows between the two Rodneys
got too heated, which was becoming more and more frequent.
	"Insulting you?  How is that insulting you?" Rodney demanded when
he was alone with the other man.  "You're the one who drops his pants
every time the general beckons."
	"You shouldn't talk about things you don't understand," the other
Rodney flared.
	"Oh, but I do understand.  You're his sex slave and you have to do
everything he says," Rodney told him with a malicious grin.  He knew
how much it annoyed the other man to be called a sex slave.
	"I'm not a-!"  The other Rodney took a deep breath and managed to
get control of him-self.  "You don't get it, McKay, because you're
too scared to get it.  All you can do is ridicule it because you're
frightened that if you don't, you might actually like the idea."
	"Yeah.  Right.  What's to like about being someone's fuck toy?"
Rodney snapped.
	"That's not what our relationship is about!" the other Rodney
retorted angrily.  "That's what gets me, you refuse to see it as it
is.  You have all these stupid misconceptions and you keep on
repeating them over and over again."
	"I don't see how they're misconceptions," Rodney said, crossing his
arms over his chest smugly.  "You walked in here, wearing a collar,
being dragged around on the end of a leash and you never stop talking
about the 101 degrading ways you and he fuck, and..."
	"Shut up," his counterpart said, his face looking white and
pinched.  "It only upsets you because you can't stop thinking about
it."
	Rodney uncrossed his arms, stung by the comment.  "That's not
true," he said defen-sively, because it pretty much was.
	"Yes, it is."  His counterpart scented blood and went in for the
jugular.  "You are the most fucked up man I've ever met, McKay.  You
want to know what it's like-you're fascinated by it.  You've been
asking me questions about it non-stop since I arrived, but you keep
pretending it's because you're revolted by it, because it disgusts
you, but that isn't it at all.  You and I look the same, and talk the
same, and maybe deep down we want the same things, McKay.  Things are
just a little more sedate, a little more buttoned up in your
universe, but you heard Carson-you and I have exactly the same DNA
and that's what's eating you up inside, isn't it?  If we're the same,
then does that mean that you want what I want?  That you'd enjoy what
I enjoy?  And you're too damn scared to take the journey to find out.
You're a coward, McKay."
	Those words hit home and Rodney stood there, gaping like a fish. 
He'd been so busy being freaked out about the idea of being gay that
he'd been conveniently suppressing his even greater anxiety that he
might actually also be sexually submissive, just like his
counterpart.  That didn't fit into his world view at all.  He was a
brilliant, assertive man and the idea of being someone's possession
just didn't appeal...except that his counterpart was a brilliant,
assertive man as well, and he didn't seem to have a problem with it.
	"We may have the same DNA, but there's a reason why our universes
are different," he hissed.  "We're not like you."
	"Or maybe, if you scratch the surface, we're more similar than
you're comfortable with," the other Rodney hissed back.
	"Yeah, right, because you've seen me whoring myself out the way you
do," Rodney growled.  
	The other Rodney looked as if he'd been slapped.  "What did you
say?" he asked in a tight voice.
	"You heard."
	"John is my husband.  Since when is sleeping with your husband
'whoring'?" 
	"Oh, I don't know.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that
you told me that you're his possession, that people can't touch you
without asking permission.  Did you sell your-self out for his
protection?  Do you feel so scared when you go offworld that you want
some kind of bodyguard to keep you safe?  Isn't that how it works? 
You take care of him in the bedroom, he makes sure you stay alive. 
That's how it looks to me."
	The other Rodney gave him a look of total disgust and then turned
on his heel.
	"Yeah, why don't you just go running off to Daddy," Rodney called
after him.  
	His counterpart paused.  "He's not my daddy.  He's my husband," he
said in a low, hoarse voice, his fists clenching and unclenching.  
	"It's not a relationship of equals, whichever way you look at it,"
Rodney said in a superior tone.  
	He turned away loftily to resume his work and was therefore
completely unprepared for what happened next, but suddenly there was
a noise behind him and next thing he knew, his shoulder had been
pulled around and he was face to face with a grimly angry version of
himself.  He had a brief, weird moment of thinking that he'd never
known he could look so scary or de-termined, and then the other
Rodney lunged at him, landing a punch to his mouth.  Rodney reeled
from the force of the blow and from shock, and put up a hand to find
blood trickling down his jaw.  He responded by launching himself at
his counterpart, arms flapping wildly as he tried to land a punch of
his own.  He was surprised by how strong the other Rodney was though-
and how well-trained in fighting-and he ended up in a head lock, the
other man's arm wrapped around his neck.
	"Take it back.  All of it," Rodney Sheppard hissed, tightening his
grasp.  
	Rodney elbowed him in the stomach and his grasp weakened enough for
Rodney to break away from him and turn to face him once more.  
	They flapped their arms at each other, both too angry to back down
and neither of them exactly fluid or graceful in their fighting
style.  
	Rodney closed his eyes and punched around wildly with his fists,
hoping to land a blow.  He was dimly aware of a commotion at the
doorway and then suddenly someone grabbed him from behind and pulled
him off his counterpart.  
	"Knock it off!" someone yelled at him, but he was still to wound up
to think straight and he tried to lunge forward again, only to find
that he was held completely immobile in a pair of strong arms.  The
red mist cleared and he realized it was the colonel who had him held
fast, while his counterpart was being similarly restrained by the
general.
	"What the hell is going on here?" Sheppard demanded angrily. 
"Radek mentioned something ugly was brewing, which was why we put in
an appearance, but I had no idea you two would be stupid enough to
finally come to blows."
	"It was his fault!"  Rodney glared at his panting, disheveled
doppelganger.  "He went crazy and hit me!  Look."  He tried to point
to his bleeding lip, but it wasn't easy while both his arms were
being held behind his back.
	"Is that true, Rodney?" the general asked, releasing his grip on
his own Rodney and turning the other man around to face him.  
	"He was asking for it," the other Rodney said mutinously.
	"Did you take a swing at him?" the general asked insistently.  "Did
you throw the first punch?" 
	The other Rodney said nothing.  He just gazed at the floor, all the
muscles in his body tense.
	"I was walking away!" Rodney said.  "He just went ballistic and
threw himself at me."
	"Rodney?" the general asked in a soft voice.  "Is that what
happened?"
	"Pretty much," the other Rodney said at last, finally looking up to
meet his husband's gaze, his blue eyes glittering rebelliously.
	"You hit him first?  Not in self-defense?"  The general rocked back
on his heels, still gaz-ing at his husband intently, his lips pursed
grimly into a thin line.
	"Nope.  Not self-defense.  I hit him first," the other Rodney
muttered, never taking his eyes off his husband.
	"You got any explanation?" the general asked.  
	The other Rodney's gaze flickered over to Rodney bitterly for a
moment, as if he was expecting something, and then he sighed.  "No,"
he said finally in a tight voice, looking down again.
	"Rodney?"  The general put both his hands on the other Rodney's
shoulders and tried to make eye contact with him.  "Help me out here.
What's going on?"
	"Nothing.  He was being his usual annoying self, so I took a swing
at him.  I lost it, John.  That's what happened," the other Rodney
said.  
	"We talked about this.  We agreed on how you would handle these
emotions.  You prom-ised-"
	"I know what I promised, but I screwed up!" the other Rodney
snapped.  "Okay?"
	"No, it's not okay," the general said.  He turned to Rodney McKay,
a very grim expres-sion on his face, and Rodney was so alarmed that
he took a step back and trod on the colonel's toes.  Sheppard
released his grip on his shoulders, but Rodney hoped he wasn't going
any-where as he didn't want to face the general's wrath alone.  The
man had thrown a knife at Kavanagh just for brushing his husband's
sleeve, so God knew what he intended to do to Rod-ney.  However, the
general didn't touch him.  Instead he just bowed his head at Rodney,
taking him by surprise.  "I must apologize for my husband's behavior,
Dr. McKay," the general said.  "I'm very sorry he assaulted you in
this way."
	"Oh.  Right.  Good.  Well, that's fine," Rodney said, his voice
breaking slightly as he spoke.  "So, you're not going to...kill me or
anything?"
	The general shook his head, frowning.  "I don't think the colonel
would let me," he said, "but, anyway, I have no intention of killing
you, Dr. McKay.  It seems clear to me that my hus-band was at fault
here, and I'll punish him to your satisfaction, I hope."
	"Uh...what?"  Rodney looked around, shocked, and met Sheppard's
equally shocked gaze.
	"Rodney," the general said, turning back to his husband.  "You know
what to do."  The general folded his sleeves back to the elbow, and
then unhooked his strap from his belt.  The other Rodney just stood
there, his blue eyes dark and resentful.  "Rodney," the general said,
in a hard tone.  "Don't make me tell you twice."
	The other Rodney moved his hands reluctantly to his waist and undid
his pants.  Rodney watched him in fascinated horror, suddenly
understanding where this was going.
	"Uh, no!" he said, hopping forwards.  "There's no need for this. 
Really.  It was just one of those things."
	"Rodney," the general said, ignoring him completely, "Come here,
please."  He swung a chair around and put his leg up on the lower
rung, and then reached out, grabbed his husband's wrist and swung him
effortlessly over his knee.
	"Please don't do this," Rodney squeaked ineffectually.  "It was my
fault.  I provoked him.  I said some stuff....  Look, I'm really not
surprised he punched me.  I'd have done the same in the
circumstances.  I deserved it.  Honestly!"
	The general paused, one hand holding his husband steady over his
knee, and gazed at Rodney impassively.  "My husband will take
responsibility for his own actions," he said firmly.  "He knew he had
a problem with you and I showed him a way of handling it.  He chose
not to do as I told him and he'll be punished for that."
	He turned back to his husband and pulled his pants down to just
below his ass, exposing his buttocks.  Rodney's heart did a flip of
sheer panic and he turned around frantically, seeking out Sheppard
for support.
	"Colonel, tell him this isn't the way we do things around here!" he
pleaded.
	"I don't think there's anything I can say that will stop him right
now, and this looks like a private matter between them so I'm
reluctant to interfere," Sheppard replied, giving Rodney an extremely
dark look.  
	"What?  Oh, come on!  It was just a little scuffle!" Rodney
protested.  "Look, General, I'm sorry!  It really was my fault.  If
you could have heard what I said to him!  He doesn't deserve this. 
Honestly!"  He glanced down at his counterpart, but the other Rodney
put his head down and grasped onto his husband's legs with his big
hands, seemingly completely resigned to his fate and appearing to
signal to Rodney that he should be, too.
	"Ready, Rodney?" the general asked.
	"Yes, John," the other Rodney replied quietly.  
	The general lifted his strap and brought it down on his husband's
exposed ass with a hard thwap.  
	Rodney gazed, horrified, at the red mark it left in its wake.  He
didn't know what to do, but the last thing he wanted to do was stand
by and watch this happen.  He could feel his own hands moving
uselessly, frantically, at his sides.  He was honest enough to know
that this was largely his fault, and he couldn't bear it.  Another
loud thwap and Rodney winced.  He remem-bered that his counterpart
had told him that sometimes being spanked relaxed him and he won-
dered if maybe this wasn't as bad for him as it looked, but one
glance at Rodney Sheppard's face disabused him of that notion.  The
other man was biting down on his lip, presumably to keep from
embarrassing himself by crying out in front of an audience, but his
face was flushed and he looked utterly miserable.
	Rodney swallowed hard.  He didn't want to witness this and he
seemed powerless to stop it, so he edged slowly towards the door.  He
was nearly there when a hard voice rapped out.
	"Stay right where you are, Dr. McKay," the general commanded.  
	Rodney stopped and turned, his heart in his mouth.  
	"As you said, you provoked this, so you can stay and see it
through," the general told him.  "This is his punishment-watching it
can be yours." 	Rodney looked over at Sheppard for help, but the
colonel just gazed stonily back at him and gestured with his head
that Rodney should stay where he was.  Rodney took a deep breath,
searching for a way out, but found none and realized he had no choice
but to watch as the punishment continued.  
	The general brought his strap down several times on his husband's
ass, leaving a criss-cross pattern of red marks.  Rodney winced with
each stroke.  It seemed to go on forever and Rodney didn't know where
to look.  He didn't want to look at Sheppard, because he seemed
really pissed off with him right now, but he didn't want to look at
the general, either, because there was such a darkly determined look
on his face as he brought that strap down on his hus-band's ass that
Rodney found it frankly alarming.  Looking at his counterpart was
even worse.  The other Rodney's hands were wrapped around his
husband's long legs to hold himself steady, and he gazed at Rodney
blankly, his eyes registering the force of each hard stroke.  Rodney
longed for it to be over, while at the same time finding it
horrifyingly, fascinatingly arousing.  
	Finally, the general stopped.  He pulled his husband's pants back
over his red ass, and swung him onto his feet again.
	"That was the public part of your punishment.  Now go back to our
quarters, Rodney.  I'm not done with you yet.  We have some things to
take care of in private," the general said.  
	The other Rodney fastened his pants, gazing at the general's boots
the entire time, and when the general finished talking, he nodded and
started walking.  
	"Wait."  The general put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him
back.  He took his hus-band's head between his hands and bestowed a
firm kiss on his forehead, then released him and pushed him towards
the door.  The other Rodney kept his gaze fixed on the ground as he
left.  He didn't even look at Rodney as he passed him; he just
hurried out of the door.  The gen-eral fastened the strap back to its
hook on his belt and then nodded at Sheppard.
	"Colonel, I trust there won't be any need for you to mention this
to Elizabeth.  You know that Rodney has been punished.  He couldn't
stand being placed in your brig, even if only for a few days."
	"I understand."  Sheppard nodded.  "I don't think Elizabeth needs
to know about this.  In fact, I don't think what happened here should
leave this room."
	"Agreed.  Thank you," the general nodded.  He turned and walked
towards the door and Rodney found himself taking a couple of steps
back, seriously scared of the other man right now.  The general
paused when he got to Rodney and gave him a disdainful look.  "I hope
my Rodney isn't the only one who learned a lesson here," he said.
	Rodney bit on his lip and tasted blood from where it had been split
earlier.  "Sorry," he muttered again.
	"Good," the general said, and then he swept from the room.  
	Rodney gazed after him, utterly horrified.  "Oh, shit," he
whispered, turning back to Sheppard.  "Man, that was intense.  Oh,
shit.  Oh, God."
	Sheppard didn't say a word.  He just stalked out of the room,
ignoring Rodney complete-ly.  Rodney gazed after him for a moment,
shocked, and then followed on behind him, running to catch up with
him just as the other man reached the transporter.
	"Colonel!  John!" he cried out.  
	Sheppard paused, his back to Rodney, every line in his body taut.  
	"I'm sorry!" Rodney said pathetically when he caught up with him. 
"I had no idea he'd do that.  I mean, how could I?"
	Sheppard seemed to take a moment to visibly get control of himself
and then he turned, and the expression on his face was so furious
that Rodney shrank back, away from him.  "Rod-ney, right now, I
really don't care.  I suggest you go back to your room, or the lab,
or wherever the hell you're headed, and think about your role in that
little fiasco."
	"My role?  I know I provoked him, but I had no idea he'd hit me!"
Rodney protested.
	"Really?  Okay, what did you say to him?" Sheppard asked, crossing
his arms over his chest.
	Rodney flushed when he remembered his accusation about whoring. 
"Okay, I wasn't very nice, but even so...he hit me!  He hit me,
remember!"  Rodney massaged his sore lip, scraping off some dried
blood he found on his chin.
	"Rodney, you've been spoiling for a fight with him since he
arrived.  Now, I don't know what your particular problem is with him,
but he's a nice guy so I suggest you sit down and have a good long
think about it.  Whatever is bothering you-  Figure it out, Rodney
because I don't want anything like that to happen again.  Understood?"
	Rodney gazed at him, shocked, and found his mouth had gone
completely dry.  He wanted to argue and protest, but the expression
on Sheppard's face was far too forbidding for him to even think about
that, so instead he just nodded dumbly.
	"Good.  Now, if you'll excuse me."  And with that Sheppard stepped
into the transporter and was gone.  
	"Since when was he appointed the boss of me?" Rodney grumbled to
himself as he walked down the hallway back to the lab.  "I'm the Head
of Science and this is primarily a civil-ian expedition.  He's just
here to protect us."  
	He went into the lab and slammed the door shut behind him.  His
heart sank when he surveyed the debris in the lab.  Things had been
knocked over and broken in the tussle, and despite what the colonel
had said about keeping quiet about the events of the past half hour,
the room itself told its own story.  Rodney set about clearing things
up, muttering to himself the en-tire time.  The truth was that he
felt desperately guilty about what had happened to his counter-part,
and that feeling of guilt wasn't helped by the way Sheppard had just
talked to him.  Rodney finished clearing up the lab and then decided
to head back to his quarters.  He couldn't face do-ing any more work
today and he really couldn't face seeing Radek and the rest of his
team and putting a brave face on it and pretending nothing had
happened-especially as his split lip would make it obvious just how
much of a lie that was.
	Rodney let himself into his room and went to his bathroom to gaze
at himself in the mir-ror.  His hair was askew from where the colonel
had restrained him and he had a little red bruise forming around his
mouth.  His lip was swollen and bleeding a little.  Rodney took a
handful of water and washed away the worst of the dried blood on his
jaw and neck.  He considered going to see Carson, but he really
didn't want to answer any of the doctor's questions right now and the
injury hardly looked serious, so instead he went back and threw
himself down on his bed.  He was still in a state of shock about what
had happened and a dozen images kept rattling around inside his brain
in an endless loop; his counterpart's pale, furious face when he'd
finally pushed him too far; the way Sheppard had held him back with
strong, forceful arms; the other Rodney's mutinous gaze as he glanced
up at his husband through his eyelashes, still clearly furious.  Then
there had been the ease with which his counterpart had gone over the
general's knee, without protestation, as if it was something he'd
done on hundreds of previous occasions, which, Rodney supposed, he
had.  
	There had been something about the ease of his submission to his
husband's authority, though, that made Rodney tremble.  He closed his
eyes, trying to squeeze out the memory of that spanking, but it
haunted him.  He knew he was aroused by it, at the same time as
hating himself for that very fact.  He felt terrible for the other
Rodney, too, and that made him feel even worse for feeling in any way
aroused, and he didn't understand his arousal in any case.  But the
image that stayed most in his mind was the way the general had kissed
his husband before sending him back to their rooms.  It was clear
that despite the fact the other Rodney was in big trouble, and
despite the fact the general had warned him that his punishment
wasn't yet over-despite all that, the general was still holding out
the promise of ultimate forgiveness.  There was a big difference
between that and the angry way in which things had been left between
himself and Sheppard.  Rodney stared up at the ceiling, feeling
utterly wretched.  He thought he'd actu-ally prefer to be going
through whatever the other Rodney was going through right now, if at
the end of it he got to be forgiven, because at this moment in time,
he felt utterly and completely alone with his guilt.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney Sheppard returned to his room and stood there for a moment,
trying to catch his breath.  He wondered if he should undress so he
was ready for punishment when his husband returned, but John hadn't
told him to do that and he was anxious not to do anything right now
that would make the situation worse, so instead he just stood there,
eyes down, waiting.
	He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten into this position.  It had
been a very long time since John had looked at him the way he just
had, or since Rodney had screwed up so publicly and spectacularly. 
This was like being back at the early days of their relationship,
when they hadn't figured each other out, and when Rodney hadn't been
sure what the limits were.  Now he did know-and that made it worse
because he had a full appreciation of just how much shit he was in
right now.
	The door opened, but Rodney just continued to stand there, eyes
down, unmoving.  John stepped into the room, locked the door behind
him, and then came to stand in front of his husband with a deep sigh.
Rodney kept his gaze fixed on the floor.
	"If that had happened back in our own universe, then Elizabeth
would have ordered you into the punishment room before your feet
could touch the ground," John told him in a hard, stern tone.
	"I know.  I'm sorry," Rodney said in the general direction of his
boots.
	"Do you know what that means, Rodney?  What that really means?"
John demanded.  "I'd have had to punish you in front of possibly the
entire base and you know what I feel about that.  All those
people...looking at your bare ass," he growled.
	"Well, you didn't seem to mind punishing me in front of people who
were looking at my bare ass a few minutes ago," Rodney muttered
rebelliously.
	"Excuse me?"  John took hold of his chin and pulled it up so that
Rodney was looking at him.
	"Nothing," Rodney said sullenly.  
	"That was damage limitation," John told him, his hazel eyes
flashing.  "You know their rules.  I was trying to make sure you
didn't end up in the brig."  
	Rodney's heart did a little flip and he gazed at his husband
anxiously. "What?  I....  Would they have done that?" he whispered,
appalled.
	"I don't know because these people are frankly weird, but it seemed
like it was a distinct possibility after what happened in the mess
hall the other night."
	"I suppose so."  Rodney took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
"Oh, God," he whis-pered.
	"It's all right.  I had a conversation with the colonel after you
left and he agreed that no-body would know what happened in there
except for the four of us."
	"Oh.  Right.  Good," Rodney said in relief.  He was surprised to
find that he was shaking just at the thought of the brig and John put
his arms around him and held him.  
	"Okay.  It's okay.  Shh.  It's not going to happen," John told him,
his hands soothing re-assuring circles down his back.  Rodney clung
on for a moment, until he felt calmer.
	"So, I'm still in trouble I take it?" Rodney asked into John's neck.
	"Oh, yeah," John replied, kissing the side of his face
affectionately.  
	"I honestly am sorry.  He was just being such a total bastard."
	"I know.  I guessed that much.  If it's worth anything, I will say
that he looked really shook up when I left.  I felt kind of sorry for
him."
	"Don't," Rodney growled.
	"He's so like you used to be, with all your faults and all your
good points, too.  He was quick to take the blame and he was
genuinely upset about what happened to you.  He'd have done anything
to save you that punishment."
	"Well, perhaps if the colonel would just step up to the plate and
tan his hide occasionally, then things like this wouldn't happen. 
Plus, he'd be much nicer to be around."
	John chuckled.  "Maybe, but I have to say that doesn't seem to be
the way things work around here."  He kissed the side of Rodney's
face again and then shifted.  
	Rodney clung on for as long as was humanly possible.  
	"You're just delaying the inevitable, Rodney," John told him.
	"Hmmm, but I figure the delay is worth it," Rodney replied.  
	John chuckled again, but then pushed him back, more firmly this
time.  
	Rodney sighed, and gazed at his boots again.  "You did already
punish me," he re-minded his husband.
	"Yeah, but this was big, Rodney, you know that," John said.  "I
haven't seen you like this in a long time and that just tells me I've
failed you as a top and as your husband."
	"What?"  Rodney glanced up in surprise.
	"How did it get to this stage, Rodney?  I thought I was taking care
of it, keeping you grounded, and then I find you brawling?"
	"You haven't failed me," Rodney said miserably.
	"Look, Rodney, I know we're in a different universe, but as far as
I'm concerned, the same old rules apply-and that means that if you
act out, I'm responsible.  I knew that when we got married and I was
happy to shoulder that responsibility in exchange for all the many
benefits that also go with being your husband and your top."  John
gave him a wry grin.  "So, if you're getting into fist fights, then
I'm doing something wrong."
	"No, you're not.  It was my fault for letting McKay get under my
skin."
	"And my fault for not realizing just how big an issue this was for
you and dealing with it more thoroughly," John told him.  "Now, I
didn't enjoy punishing you just now and I sure as hell won't enjoy
the punishment I'm going to give you in a moment, so that'll be my
retribution for not taking better care of you."
	"This sounds bad," Rodney sighed.  
	"It isn't good," John replied, going over to the closet.  "When I
was on the mainland a few days ago, I cut myself a switch," he said. 
Rodney's heart did an anxious flip.  "I didn't think I'd actually
need to use it, certainly not for real, but now I think I do," John
said, opening the closet and retrieving a long, thin, whippy-looking
switch.  
	Rodney took a deep, appalled breath.  "Please, John.  I'm sorry,"
he said wretchedly.  
	"I know you are," John replied with a nod.  "And I have already
given you a good strap-ping, but I think you deserve a thorough
switching too.  Imagine how I'd have felt if they put you in the
brig, Rodney.  And imagine if we'd been back home.  Do you think
Elizabeth would have let you get away with less than a thorough
caning for this?"
	"No....  But...."  Rodney caught the flash in John's hazel eyes and
bit back that protest.  "No," he whispered.  
	"I really need this message to go home," John told him.  "Because I
can't keep you safe here, Rodney."  He couldn't keep the note of
worry out of his voice and Rodney's heart ached for him.  "They don't
understand us or our ways.  People can touch you and apparently I'm
sup-posed to just stand by and be fine with that.  You don't get the
protection your status should af-ford you and nobody respects my role
in your life.  Hell, they don't even understand my role in your life,
even after we've explained over and over again."
	"I know.  That's partly why I threw that punch at McKay," Rodney
said softly.
	"So I need to keep you as safe as I can, Rodney, and if that means
taking care of things so that you don't break any of their rules
again, then I'm happy to punish you long and hard until that message
goes in."
	Rodney nodded.  "I understand," he muttered.  "I was an idiot back
there.  There are other ways of dealing with McKay.  I, of all
people, should know that!"
	"You should feel sorry for him rather than rising to his bait,"
John told him.  "He's clearly struggling with some really hard issues
right now."
	"I know," Rodney said wryly.  "Anyone can see that they're
completely in love with each other and they're both single, so what's
all the denial about?  I just wish I could bang their heads together,
the pair of 'em," Rodney sighed, exasperated.
	"It's not the same for them as it was for us.  It's harder in this
universe.  Hopefully, one day they'll figure it out, but if not-it's
not our responsibility, Rodney."
	"I know," Rodney nodded.  
	"Our only responsibilities are to each other-you to me and me to
you.  That's what this means."  John placed a finger on his pendant
and Rodney felt the Kaeira flow lovingly between them.  "And I'm not
going to shirk those responsibilities, Rodney.  You mean too much to
me," John told him.  He removed his finger and Rodney sighed, missing
the contact already.  
	"Get undressed, Rodney," John told him.  "Then kneel on all fours
at the end of the bed."
	Rodney did what he was told, shaking slightly as he got undressed. 
John had never used a switch on him, but he had caned him before, a
long time ago, but only once, and he thought that had been bad
enough.  This was worse, far worse, because they were closer now than
they'd been back then.  A switch, like the cane, was a serious
instrument of punishment, and Rodney knew that it would hurt like
hell.
	When he was naked, he took up the position John had indicated and
tried to compose himself.  His ass was already sore from the
strapping, but he knew he could take more and that John would make
him take it in any case.  There was a long silence and Rodney kept
his gaze fixed on the sheets, trying to clear his mind.  Then he felt
the touch of the switch on his ass as John rested it there, taking
aim, and he closed his eyes.  He heard it first, before he felt it,
and then a blaze of pain shot through his buttocks as the switch bit
into his flesh.  He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. 
Damn, but that had hurt.
	Another silence, another whistling sound and another wave of fire
sweeping through his ass cheeks.  Rodney gave a startled yelp at just
how much it hurt and half rose on his haunch-es, more as a reflex
action than anything else.  John put a firm hand on his back and
pushed him back down again.  
	"Hold still, Rodney, we're not done yet-not by a long shot," he
said in a grim voice.  
	Rodney lowered his head, accepting.  The next stroke elicited a
shout of pure pain from him and by the fourth, he was shaking hard
with the effort of holding position when he wanted to do anything he
could to evade the bite of that switch.  John was absolutely
implacable, though, as he always was when delivering a punishment,
and Rodney knew he wouldn't stop until he was completely satisfied
that his husband had learned his lesson.
	John delivered three more hard strokes before he was finally done,
and by the time he finished, Rodney was trembling in earnest.  Then
John put a hand on his shoulder and helped him off the bed.  Rodney
glanced over his shoulder to see seven very distinct and evenly
spaced red lines on his already reddened ass.  
	"Damn thing hurts like hell," he told John as his husband drew him
in for a stern but lov-ing kiss.
	"I know.  You took it well though, Rodney.  I'm proud of you," John
told him.  He drew back and escorted Rodney over to the wall.  "Now
take some time to think about everything that happened today," John
told him.  "When you're done, come to bed and I'll hold you."
	Rodney nodded, and stood there silently.  His bottom stung like
crazy, waves of pain ra-diating out in little circles from the
epicenter of each precisely delivered stroke, and he felt utterly
miserable.  John was right, their situation was precarious; they were
stuck in a universe where nobody understood them, where people had a
problem even accepting them, and they had to be as careful as
possible.  Things seemed so familiar here that he'd allowed himself
to be lulled into a false sense of security.  They were guests,
visitors, and while it wasn't their fault that they were here, they
still had to rely on the goodwill of these oddly familiar strangers. 
He'd been stu-pid-and self indulgent-in allowing McKay to get to him.
He felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought that he might have
been thrown into the brig.  How would John have felt if that had hap-
pened?  These people didn't understand how devastated John would have
been by that-to be forcibly separated, to have other people take
control of his husband, to have them imprison him against John's will
and without his permission...these people didn't have a clue how big
a deal that was for them.  If it had happened, John would have been
distraught-and it would have been Rodney's fault.  Rodney rested his
hands against the wall and his head on his hands.  The tears came
slowly, leaking between the cracks in his fingers.  He didn't move,
or make a sound, just wept silently for a long time, until he was all
cried out.  He supposed he should go over to the bed as John had
instructed, but he knew he didn't deserve to be held after what he'd
done so he just stayed there.
	Finally, after an hour or more had passed, he felt warm hands on
his shoulders.
	"That's long enough," John told him firmly, and he was turned
around and led back to the bed and pushed beneath the sheets.  He lay
on his side and felt John slide in beside him and turn off the light,
then an arm wrapped itself around his waist and he was pulled back
against John's naked body.  John kissed the back of his neck
repeatedly and finally Rodney felt himself starting to relax.  
	"I know what'll help," John whispered.  Rodney stifled a gasp as
John moved, jostling Rodney's sore ass, and then John was back again
and Rodney heard the pop of the lube tube.  
	A few seconds later, John's fingers slid carefully between his
smarting butt cheeks.  Rodney sighed and opened up to allow better
access.  He wasn't honestly in the mood to be fucked, but if that was
what John wanted, then he was willing enough.  John stretched him,
slowly and purposefully, without any sense of sexual urgency, then
withdrew his fingers and re-placed them with his cock.  He slid into
Rodney carefully, tenderly, inch by inch, and came to rest, embedded
deep within Rodney's ass.  Then he wrapped his arm around Rodney and
kissed the back of his neck again and Rodney realized that a fuck
wasn't what John had in mind right now.  Rodney floated away hazily. 
He never enjoyed being punished, but he did always like the place he
ended up in his head afterwards.  His body felt heavy and drowsy;
there were feel-good endorphins whizzing around in his bloodstream,
and the familiar, beloved sensation of John's cock embedded in his
ass.  
	"Go to sleep now," John told him, stroking Rodney's stomach gently
with his fingertips.  "I'll stay inside you."
	Rodney closed his eyes with a contented sigh, feeling completely
wrapped up in his husband's love.  He knew John would be as good as
his word.  This wasn't about sex right now, it was about comfort, and
John didn't intend to come.  He was just going to stay inside Rodney
until he slept.  At some point he'd allow his cock to soften inside
Rodney's body and during the night it would probably slip out, but
right now, Rodney could feel it filling him, large and reassur-ing,
reminding him that John was there, in him and with him, and that he
was safe, and warm, and very, very much loved.

*                       *                       *

Part Ten:  First Date?


	Rodney McKay spent a sleepless night tossing and turning.  Sheppard
had told him to figure out what was bothering him, but he thought he
had that pretty much figured out already.  It was the solution to it
that was eluding him.  The truth was that having Rodney Sheppard
around had bothered him from the very beginning because he was
jealous of him; jealous of his happiness, of his ease around people
when Rodney felt so awkward, and, most of all, jealous of his
relationship with the general.  
	Rodney had been in denial about it for a long time, but the
previous day's events now forced him to confront the truth-and that
truth was that he wanted what Rodney Sheppard had-and he didn't like
the idea that he wanted it.  More than anything else, he was stunned
that he wanted it.  This wasn't something he would ever have imagined
he desired, in a million years, but he did, and now he had to get
used to the idea because it didn't look as if it was going away. 
What the hell should he do about it, though?  Rodney had no idea, and
it didn't matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn't come up
with an answer.  
	Finally he got up, took a shower and got dressed.  He looked like
shit.  There were dark shadows under his eyes and his mouth area was
too sore for him to shave, so he left his chin stubbled.  Hunger
drove him to the mess hall and he entered it, shoulders hunched,
mouth set in a crooked line, daring anyone to talk to him.  He wanted
to eat alone, but his gaze fell on a lone figure pushing his food
around his plate and he hesitated, then squared his shoulders and
walked over.  He wasn't sure what his reception would be, but he knew
he had an apology to make.  
	Rodney Sheppard didn't look so good, either.  He was half sitting,
half kneeling on the chair, balancing on his leg which was bent
underneath him, so that his ass wasn't actually touching the surface
of the chair, and his face was pale.  He didn't look tired, but he
did look washed out, and his eyes were ever so slightly red-rimmed. 
He actually looked rather young-and kind of vulnerable.  Rodney was
brought up short by that analysis.  He'd never viewed him-self in
that light before, had never seen himself as others might see him,
and he'd never realized that there might be times when he also looked
like this.  He felt an odd surge of affection for his counterpart and
wondered if other people sometimes felt that for him.  He would never
have thought so before today.
	"Hey," he said quietly, coming to stand in front of the other man. 
"I'll understand if you tell me where to go, but I just wanted to
apologize."
	The other Rodney glanced up, and, much to Rodney's surprise, gave
him a wan smile.  "That's okay.  Sit down," he said, gesturing with
his spoon.  
	Rodney was even more surprised by that and he took his place
opposite his counterpart.  "I really am sorry," he said humbly.  "I
never meant to get you into trouble, and I shouldn't have said those
things to you."
	"Thank you," his counterpart said softly.  "That means a lot.  I'm
sorry, too."
	Rodney glanced up, eyebrows raised.  
	The other Rodney nodded his head at Rodney's lip.  "Looks like I
actually managed to land a decent punch for once," he said with a wry
smile.  
	Rodney grinned, then wished he hadn't as his lip split a little
more and he tasted the salty tang of fresh blood.  "I thought you
were pretty good, actually," he said.  "Considering you're, you know,
me, and, generally speaking, fisticuffs aren't my thing."
	"Me, neither."
	"Guess we just both know the right buttons to push to get a
reaction," Rodney sighed.  "Question is why we want to keep pushing
them the whole time."
	"I think, in your case, that you just don't like yourself very
much," his counterpart said slowly, without any hint of aggression.  
	"John...Colonel Sheppard said that once, too," Rodney replied. 
"Which is strange be-cause I always feel I like myself plenty."
	The other Rodney snorted.  "Yeah.  Me too, except...we both have
two different sides to our personalities, don't we?  And one of them
is a lot less self-assured than the other.  I'm guessing it was that
side that was so freaked out by having me around."
	Rodney stared at him blankly.  He'd never really thought of himself
in such an analytical way before.  He generally found other people's
emotions and motivations a mystery, and his own were often no clearer
to him.  
	The other Rodney smiled.  "Sometimes, after I've been punished, I
have these moments of clarity when I can figure everything out and it
all makes sense to me," he explained.  "John pretty much insists on
me spending some quiet time after a severe punishment.  It's the only
time when my brain slows down enough to see some of the really
obvious stuff that's been star-ing me in the face the whole time."
	"What did he do to you?" Rodney asked, biting on his lip and
tasting blood again.  "Last night, after...."  He trailed off.
	"He used a switch.  Definitely something to be avoided if at all
possible," his counterpart told him with a grimace.  
	"Oh, shit.  I'm so sorry," Rodney said again.
	"You can stop apologizing, Rodney.  I didn't like it, but it did
help me figure out a few things in my head.  I'm sorry I allowed you
to get to me.  I should have realized why I was al-ways rising to
your bait.  John told me ages ago that the problem was that you
remind me of myself, and he's right.  I should have recognized that
and accepted it.  Instead it just kept nig-gling at me."
	"I remind you of yourself?"  Rodney wrinkled his forehead, trying
desperately not to make that question sound confrontational, but
really not seeing it.  Their lives and outlook seemed so different.
	"Before John.  I was a lot like you.  I didn't understand
myself...I was lonely and angry about a lot of things that I couldn't
even put into focus.  Being with you just brought it all back, all
the negative stuff, and I didn't like it."
	"You think I'm lonely and angry?"  Rodney gazed at his counterpart
in surprise.
	"Yes.  I do."  The other man nodded.  "Let's face it, McKay, if
your childhood was any-thing like mine, then it was really fucked up."
	Rodney was brought up short by that.  Generally speaking, he
preferred not to think about his childhood a great deal.  It hadn't
been terrible-nobody had hit him and there had al-ways been food on
the table, but, all the same, he didn't have any particularly good
memories of it.
	"Parents at each other's throats all the time, being picked on at
high school.  Being a genius worked great as a way of distracting our
parents from tearing each other apart, but it just made the being
picked on thing worse," his counterpart muttered.  
	Rodney felt his muscles tighten.  "I don't think about it very
often.  I'm sure other people have it much worse," he replied.
	"Yeah, but it was a lonely childhood and nobody ever helped you
out, or took your side, and the anger over the unfairness of it all
didn't go anywhere except the pit of your stomach," his counterpart
said softly.  
	There was no point in denying it because the other Rodney knew him
as well as he knew himself.  Rodney gazed at him with eyes that felt
suddenly prickly.  
	"It's just that nobody was ever that nice to you, so you never got
into the habit of being nice back," the other man continued.  
	"Did we have the same parents?" Rodney asked.  "I mean, wouldn't
yours have been in a...."  He flushed, too embarrassed to even think
about it.  
	"They were both switches," his counterpart said with a nod. 
"Always fighting over who was in charge and neither would give an
inch.  Hopelessly mis-matched.  I ran off to college the minute I was
old enough and fell into some bad relationships.  I never expected
anyone to love me and that was a good thing because nobody really did
until John came along."
	"Relationships?" Rodney asked, curious about his counterpart's
history.  
	"Yeah.  Some with women, some with men.  I even topped.  I wasn't
bad at it, but some-times I wasn't so great at it, either," he
sighed.  "And when I got it wrong, I really got it wrong, and that's
a lot of responsibility when you're taking care of another human
being.  Then there was a whole string of one-night stands," he
grimaced.  "They really should have been more fun than they were, but
I was too fucked up by that point."
	"Man, sounds like you've had a whole lot of sex," Rodney commented,
feeling vaguely envious.
	"Sure."  His counterpart shrugged, and then gazed at him
questioningly.  
	"Me, not so much," Rodney said quietly.  
	"Why not?"
	"Well, in case you haven't noticed, people don't like me much and
it's hard to get from 'I hate you, you're a pig' to 'okay, but will
you sleep with me?' in one easy step.  Although that's not to say I
didn't try."  Rodney forked some food into his mouth and started to
munch.
	"Right."  The other Rodney frowned.  "I think you're wrong about
people not liking you, though.  I think they do, but you never see
it.  You're so busy keeping people at bay with that sharp tongue of
yours that you just assume they all dislike you.  They don't.  Even I
can see that.  Carson and Radek have both leapt to your defense when
I bad mouthed you to them, and Elizabeth, Teyla and Miko all have a
soft spot for you."
	"Really?"  Rodney was sure he looked as surprised as he felt.  
	"Really.  And that's not even taking the colonel into account," the
other Rodney added.  "He likes you, too-a lot.  I can see how in your
universe the whole sex thing must be harder, though.  We're a lot
more open about sex where I come from.  Still, even despite your
savagely anti-social tendencies, I'm surprised you've missed out."
	"Why?"  Rodney frowned.  
	"Well, you must have noticed how hot we are," his counterpart
grinned.  
	Rodney choked on his food.  "What?" 
	"Hot.  We're hot, Rodney.  You do know this, right?"
	Rodney glanced around the room, worried that they'd been overheard.
"Really?" he whispered.  "I mean, I kind of always thought so, but
when the rest of the world keeps on knock-ing you back, you have to
wonder."
	"Oh, no.  We're hot," his counterpart told him confidently.  "The
other night when I was dressed in that outfit John got for me, I
could have had half the room, if I'd wanted."
	"I did notice you got looked at," Rodney mused.  
	"You're kind of hot, too-only you don't look comfortable in your
own skin and that comes across.  You're sort of awkward.  Also, the
clothes could do with some work."
	"There's nothing wrong with my...."  Rodney stopped himself and
sighed.  "Sorry.  I don't want to start arguing again."
	"Look, while we're not arguing, there are some other things I
should apologize for, as well.  I knew I was doing some stuff that
was winding you up and I kept on doing it.  Take Radek, for example."
His counterpart made a little face.  "I know how you feel about him
be-cause I felt the same.  He's your right hand man, your little
partner in crime-and he's the only person around here who can really
keep up with you.  I knew you were feeling left out by my friendship
with him, but I just kept on doing it.  It wasn't just to annoy you,
either.  I miss him, Rodney."  
	Rodney glanced up at the note of sincerity in the other man's
voice.  
	"I really miss him," his counterpart said, his blue eyes glittering
slightly.  "I didn't even realize how much I liked him until he was
dead and then....  The lab's never been the same since.  The others
are fine, but Miko's no substitute and Peter's a good, solid
technician, but he's no Radek Zelenka."
	"I had no idea."  Rodney shook his head.  "To be honest, I also had
no idea I even liked Radek that much until you started cozying up to
him."
	"There are a lot of things you have no idea about, McKay," his
counterpart said quietly.  "That's another thing that's been winding
me up, to be honest.  Watching you and the colonel...."  He shook his
head.  "I know it's none of my business and I know it shouldn't
affect me, but just the thought of me not being with John makes me
anxious...so watching you two dance around each other has made me
permanently edgy.  That's another reason why I've been reacting so
badly to you."
	"There is nothing going on between me and the colonel," Rodney
replied stiffly.  "There isn't even the remotest possibility of
anything happening between me and the colonel.  What-ever you think
you see is entirely in your imagination."
	His counterpart gazed at him with clear blue eyes and Rodney felt
himself wilting under the steady stare.  "Rodney-this is me you're
talking to, remember?"  The other man snorted.  "I know you better
than anyone else here.  Lying to me is like lying to yourself.  Oh! 
That's what you've been doing, isn't it?"
	Rodney shook his head, numbly, and gazed blindly at his food.
	"Rodney?" his counterpart said softly.  
	"What I can't figure out..." Rodney said finally, his voice
breaking, "is whether I've always felt like this and just been
ignoring it, or whether I only started feeling this way after you two
ar-rived."
	"Does it matter?" 
	"Well, yes, obviously, because when you go, I might go back to-"
	"Rodney, it's never going to go away," his counterpart interrupted
him.  "And my guess is that we didn't cause it. You've just been
suppressing it for a long time and we brought it right out into the
open.  I mean, I've watched you, and you two flirt like crazy.  I
don't believe that only started when we arrived."
	"Flirt?"  Rodney frowned, puzzled.  
	His counterpart rolled his eyes.  "Like crazy," he confirmed. 
"When you first sucked us in here, I just assumed you were together
because of the vibe you had going on."
	"I really don't see that, but, anyway, it doesn't matter.  Nothing
is going to happen be-tween the colonel and myself.  Apart from
anything else, you should see the number of women who throw
themselves at him, and he hasn't by any means turned all of them
down."
	"Well, you can't blame the guy!  He's not getting any from you, so
why shouldn't he take it when it's offered elsewhere?" the other
Rodney snorted.
	"You're missing my point!  It's women he's attracted to, not men,
and most definitely not me," Rodney told him firmly.
	"How do you know he's not bisexual?"
	"Just because everyone in your universe is bisexual doesn't mean
everyone in ours is!" Rodney protested.
	"Or maybe, because of this weird gay taboo thing you've got going,
people just hide it," his counterpart said with a shrug.  
	"Trust me, the colonel isn't bisexual," Rodney said.  "And even if
he was, a man like him sure as hell wouldn't be interested in me."
	"Why not?" the other Rodney asked curiously.
	"I just doubt I'm his type," Rodney shrugged.  "I think he'd go for
someone more obvi-ous."
	"Some brainless, muscle-bound hunk?  I don't think you know the
colonel that well if you think that," the other Rodney said,
frowning.  
	"I don't understand why you think he's interested in me," Rodney
said, frowning back.  "He hasn't done anything, or said anything...he
hasn't made a move....  I just don't get what it is that you think
you're seeing."
	The other Rodney sighed.  "I'm trying to be patient because I know
how incredibly dense you can be about these things.  Okay, let me try
to enlighten you.  Has the colonel been spend-ing more time with you
lately?"
	Rodney screwed up his face.  "Well, yes, but I figured that was
because of this unusual situation-you know, with you two guys being
around."
	"Okay.  Has he been unusually interested in you?  Does he look at
you differently, and touch you more?  Is he more protective?  Does he
seek you out and escort you back to your quarters after work?" the
other Rodney asked.  
	Rodney hesitated.  "Well, yes, but I just thought...."
	"He's courting you," the other Rodney said, in a 'told you so' kind
of voice, as if the mat-ter had been resolved.
	"Courting...  That's an incredibly old fashioned kind of word!"
Rodney protested.
	"I know.  He's an old fashioned kind of guy.  You'll figure that
one out soon enough.  My John did the same, kept hanging around until
I thought he was stalking me.  Eventually I figured that these were
his advances and only when I was comfortable with that and relaxed a
bit around him did he make his move.  Your John will be the same.  He
won't do anything until you're ready."
	"Ready?"  Rodney felt his voice quavering slightly.
	"Ready to have a relationship with him.  He won't be interested in
a one-night stand or a fuck buddy.  If he wants you, then he'll want
all of you, and he won't settle for less.  Took me a while to see
that and it was painful for a bit, too, until I had it figured out."
	"I've never slept with a man before," Rodney muttered, feeling
himself flushing.  "I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."
	"It's great," the other Rodney grinned.  "I love it.  You will,
too, if you give it a chance."
	Rodney gazed at him doubtfully.  "But even if he is....  Even if,
by some miracle, the colo-nel is interested in me, I really can't see
it going anywhere.  I mean...it's absurd," he sighed.
	"Works for me and John," the other Rodney said.
	"Well, that's another thing.  If you two are the role model for a
relationship between me and the colonel, then quite frankly that
makes it even more absurd...and disturbing."
	"Why?" 
	Rodney took a deep breath.  "Look, I don't want to cause any more
offense after yester-day, but you and he...it's not exactly a
relationship of equals, is it?"
	"Yes, it is," his counterpart said earnestly.  "You don't see it
because you can't get be-yond the collar, and the idea of two guys
being married, and the concept of submission as any-thing other than
somehow demeaning, but we are equal.  We both know our role and
responsi-bility within our marriage-and I'm hardly brow-beaten, am I?
I don't cringe and quiver around him.  Of course we're equals."
	"Then why do you wear the collar?  Why are you the one with the
mark on your arm-what's that, like a branding?  Like you're cattle or
something?  It's unlike any tattoo I've ever seen," Rodney said,
pointing at the elegant etching on his counterpart's upper arm.
	"The collar is like a wedding ring-it's kind of old fashioned, but
I like wearing it and John likes to see me in it.  The tattoo is a
technique called latiquing.  You use a special liquid that turns
silver when it's applied to the skin via a needle.  It hurts like
hell so it helps to be in the right headspace when you do it.  None
of this stuff matters, though.  You could take it all away and it
wouldn't make any difference, because at the end of the day, it's all
about trust-and you don't trust anyone, Rodney, not even yourself. 
Until you do, you'll be trapped inside a misery entirely of your own
making and nobody will be able to help you."
	"You don't understand.  You're asking me to change everything I
believed myself to be," Rodney told him helplessly.  
	"And does everything you believe yourself to be make you happy?"
his counterpart asked softly.  "Because if not-maybe it needs
changing, hmm?"
	Rodney had no reply to that, but he didn't need one because at that
moment the general strode up to the table.  Rodney felt himself
flushing as he remembered the events of the previ-ous evening, but
the general seemed to be in a good mood and he nodded at him and
wished him good morning.
	"You two boys okay?" he asked, casting an anxious look at his
husband.
	"We're fine.  Just...burying a few hatchets," the other Rodney said
with a smile.
	"I'm pleased to hear it," the general beamed.  "So, are you ready,
Rodney?" he asked his husband.  
	Rodney Sheppard grinned, and got up, stifling a grimace as he slid
his leg off the chair and eased himself cautiously to his feet. 
"Definitely ready," he said.  "Oh, I should have told you-I won't be
working in the lab today, McKay.  John's taking me to the mainland
for some R&R."
	"Yeah, that's where I've been, requisitioning a jumper from the
colonel.  I'm taking Rod-ney to this great beach we found a week or
two back," the general said, putting an arm around his husband and
kissing him on the cheek.  The other Rodney gave that little giggle
of his and somehow Rodney didn't find it so irritating anymore.  In
fact, there was something endearing about it-and about how sincerely
and unashamedly in love these two men were.  Usually, Rodney found
that kind of stuff unbearably sappy and embarrassing, but maybe he
was getting used to it, or maybe they'd just worn him down from being
around so long.
	"It's a nice day," the other Rodney said.  "You should get out
more, have more fun, McKay."
	"Yeah.  Right," Rodney sighed.  He had to admit that the idea of a
day away from all his problems did sound appealing and he envied
them.  
	"He's been working too hard.  I should have done this before now,"
the general said, squeezing his husband's arm.  "Took yesterday's
fiasco to make me realize I haven't been spoil-ing him enough."
	"Oh, one thing before we go," the other Rodney said.  "Show Dr.
McKay your arm, John."
	"My arm?"  The general looked confused.  The other Rodney tapped
his left bicep.
	"Dr. McKay is struggling to understand our relationship.  He seems
to think we're not equal.  I thought maybe if you showed him...."
	"Oh.  Right.  Yeah."  The general grinned and undid his shirt, then
peeled the fabric down his shoulder to reveal the top of his left
arm.  There, etched on his flesh in silver piping, was the same
elegant entwined J and R tattoo that Rodney had seen on his
counterpart's upper arm, although on his right arm, not his left.
	"I did his first, as a matter of fact," Rodney said.  "The night we
lifebonded.  The design was mine, too, and he was nervous in case he
got it wrong, so I went first.  Then afterwards, he did mine."  He
glanced down at his own arm.  "Opposite arms-it's traditional and
they touch when we walk side by side."
	"Yeah.  I'm crap at design and stuff like that," the general
grinned.  "Rodney's got a good eye for detail and a steady hand. 
Luckily, we were deep in the lifebonded headspace when we latiqued
each other or I'd have screwed it up and ended up making a mess of
it.  As it was...hell, I felt like I could do anything that night. 
That's when we first felt the Kaeira and it blew me away.  As for
being equal-of course we are."  He shrugged, as if that was self-
evident.  "I mean, Rod-ney's pretty much the smartest guy on
Atlantis, as he keeps reminding us every five minutes."  The general
grinned at his husband.  "And I doubt you could even lifebond with
someone if you felt they were beneath you.  The ritual wouldn't work."
	Rodney gazed at them both, spellbound by this glimpse into their
society.  He wasn't en-tirely sure he understood it, but there was
something exotic and beautiful about it all the same.
	"We gotta go if we're going to make a day of it," the general said,
fastening his leash to the other Rodney's collar and wrapping the end
of it around his fist.  "See you later, Doc.  Have a good day."
	Rodney watched them go.  He wasn't sure he was ever going to
entirely wrap his head around their relationship, but he envied them
their easy closeness.  Despite what had happened the previous day,
today they were as besotted with each other as he'd ever seen them.


*                       *                       *


	Rodney made his way back to the lab, feeling strangely depressed. 
Not by his conver-sation with the other Rodney, but by his
counterpart's relationship with the general and his own sense of
loneliness.  He wasn't sure what that was about-he never usually felt
this way.  He thought he had pretty much gotten used to being a
loner, but now he had all these emotions coursing around inside him
that had nowhere to go.  
	His staff gazed at him warily as he entered the lab and he
grimaced, feeling their eyes flicker over his stubbled chin and
bruised mouth.  He refused to enlighten them, though, and just glared
at them, daring them to say anything.  Needless to say, nobody did,
although Radek did give him a sympathetic look and hand him a cup of
coffee before scurrying away, clearly worried that some kind of
tongue-lashing would be incurred by anyone who lingered too long in
Rod-ney's vicinity.  
	Rodney had done about half an hour's work under the casing when he
realized that the atmosphere in the lab had changed, and everyone had
gone rather quiet.  He poked his head out and his heart sank as he
saw Colonel Sheppard standing in the doorway.
	"Dr. McKay.  Could I have a word with you, please?" the colonel
asked.  
	Rodney nodded curtly and got to his feet, uncertain where they
stood after the previous evening and whether the colonel was still
angry with him.  He went over to stand in front of the colonel and
the other man gazed at him searchingly for a moment, his gaze
lingering for a long time on his split lip, an unreadable expression
in those hazel eyes.
	"How are you doing?" he asked eventually.
	"Fine," Rodney replied sharply.
	"Good.  I want you to finish up here and come with me, then,"
Sheppard said.
	"Why?" Rodney demanded warily.
	"Because I want to give you a flying lesson," Sheppard said.
	"What?!"  Rodney gazed at him, completely floored.  Of all the
things Sheppard could have said right then, that would have been last
on his list.
	"Do you want a flying lesson or not?" Sheppard asked.  
	Rodney thought about it for a moment.  He loved the flying lessons
Sheppard had given him in the past, but this was so weirdly out of
the blue.
	"Well....  Now?" he queried.  "Why now?"
	"Why not now?" Sheppard countered.
	"Because...I'm working?" Rodney suggested, waving his hand around
the lab.  He was suddenly aware that everyone was being studiously
quiet as they strained to overhear his con-versation with the
colonel.  He hoped they didn't think Sheppard was offering to take
him out on a date or something...and then it occurred to him that
might be exactly what the colonel was in-tending and he flushed
bright red.
	"You work all the time.  You do double the hours your staff do and
you need a break.  I checked the logs-you haven't taken one day off
in four weeks," Sheppard told him.  "And you work regular seventeen-
hour days."  He took hold of Rodney's arm and led him to one side so
they wouldn't be overheard.  "I told you this would happen.  I said
you'd be a wreck if you worked at this pace and you are.  Just look
at you," he whispered.  
	"I said I'm fine," Rodney hissed.
	"Well, you don't look it and you aren't acting it," Sheppard said. 
"I'm worried about you.  I want you to take a break before you end up
getting into more fights, or blowing up the city or something."
	Rodney gazed at him helplessly.  He couldn't honestly remember the
last time anyone had cared what hours he worked, or how he looked. 
Even Carson was happy to hand out the stimulants when Rodney bullied
him into it, just so he could keep working.  He remembered what the
other Rodney had said about Sheppard courting him.  Was that what
this was?  Or was the colonel really just worried about the safety of
the city when its Head of Science was so close to breaking point? 
And if it was the former and not the latter, how did he feel about it?
	"Okay," he said suddenly, surprising himself by the obvious answer
to his question about how he felt about going on a date with the
colonel.  
	Sheppard blinked.  "Really?"  He looked surprised, too, as if he
thought it would have been harder to convince Rodney.
	"Sure.  Why not?  You're right.  These guys should pull their
weight more, anyway," Rod-ney said in a slightly louder voice so they
could all hear.  "Okay, boys and girls, listen up!" he said.  "I'm
out of here.  Radek-you're in charge."  
	And with that, he turned on his heel and left, still flushing
wildly at the thought that every-one on his staff had just heard
Sheppard asking him out on what might, or might not, be a date.  As
they walked out of the door, Sheppard's hand came to rest on his
shoulder, the way it always seemed to when they walked anywhere these
days.  Rodney tried to relax.  If this was a date, then maybe it
would give him a chance to figure out whether there was any way in
hell that he and Colonel Sheppard could ever have any kind of a
relationship.


*                       *                       *


	"So...flying in a straight line," Sheppard said with a grin as they
entered the puddle jumper.  
	Rodney made a face.  "I'm sure I'll get the hang of it one day," he
said.
	"We'll work on it," Sheppard told him, pushing him towards the
flight console and taking up the position next to him.
	Rodney buckled himself in and ran his hands over the controls.  He
actually loved flying, and now that he looked back, he wondered
whether that wasn't partly because his flying les-sons had given him
a chance to spend some one-on-one time with the colonel.  
	Rodney took them up, in an entirely crooked line, into the air, and
then Sheppard took them through some simple maneuvers which Rodney
performed with his usual enthusiasm and lack of flair.  His inability
to fly in a straight line was actually embarrassing him, and the
whole date-not-date thing was making him even more flustered to the
point where he wasn't sure what he was doing.
	"It's okay, calm down," the colonel said after yet another
spectacular failure, unbuckling from his seat and coming to stand
behind Rodney.  "Your problem is that you overthink it.  In fact,
that's pretty much your problem with everything," he said with a
grin.  
	Rodney opened his mouth to protest at that character slur when
Sheppard's hands sud-denly descended on his own from behind.  
	"You need to feel it.  Get a feel for her.  Just be quiet for a
moment, Rodney.  Don't talk, don't think...just feel," Sheppard said,
his lips so close to Rodney's ear that his breath ticked the side of
Rodney's face when he spoke.  
	Rodney did as instructed, sitting back in his chair and trying to
relax, relishing the feel of Sheppard's long, agile fingers on top of
his own, and Sheppard's face against his cheek.
	"That's it...now...I want you to fly between these two points...but
don't look at the screen ...just gently ease her...that's right,"
Sheppard said encouragingly into his ear.  
	Rodney gave himself up to the dual pleasures of flying and having
Sheppard so close to him.  He guided the ship gently along, barely
breathing, and was surprised when they reached their destination and
Sheppard brought up the star map to show they'd kept to an almost en-
tirely straight line.
	"See, I knew you could do it," the colonel said, finally
relinquishing his hold on Rodney's hands and going back to his seat.  
	Rodney sat back with a satisfied smile.  Date or not, this whole
day was turning out really well!
	They flew for a while longer, then Sheppard took the controls again.
	"Hungry?" he said, with a grin in Rodney's direction.  "Oh, what am
I saying?  Stupid question.  This is Rodney McKay I'm talking to,
after all.  You're always hungry."
	"You brought lunch?" Rodney asked, surprised.  He hadn't imagined
this would be an all day thing.
	"Of course I brought lunch.  What kind of a cheap date do you think
I am?" Sheppard asked, and Rodney flushed wildly again and examined
his fingernails intently.  So maybe this was a date?  Or was Sheppard
just using a figure of speech?  Damn it, why was he always so useless
at interpreting these complicated social situations?  
	"Hold on," Sheppard said, and next thing Rodney knew they were
flying down-fast, too fast, so fast he was sure they would hit the
water...and then they did hit the water.
	"John!  What the hell do you think-?!" Rodney began, but Sheppard
just grinned at him.
	"It's okay, Rodney.  I thought we'd have lunch with a view that's
all," he said, as the jumper started powering down under the surface
of the ocean.  
	"Last time I did this, I nearly died," Rodney reminded him.
	"And this time it'll be fine," Sheppard said calmly.  "We've tested
it, remember?  The jumper works just as well as a submersible as it
does in the air.  And this area is shallow; I've checked it out. 
Now, just watch...."
	He had a sly grin on his face as he drove the jumper down through
the sunlit depths.  He was right, the ocean bed wasn't very deep here
and they soon settled on the bottom, right in front of a magnificent
coral reef, teeming with large, brightly-colored fish in all shapes
and sizes, which were magnificently lit by the jumper's lights.
	"Oh, my God," Rodney breathed.  "This is like...our own personal
aquarium or some-thing."
	"Isn't it?"  Sheppard grinned, unbuckling his belt and going to the
back of the jumper.  He returned with a basket which he placed on the
console between them.  "Help yourself," he ges-tured to Rodney. 
	Rodney reached into the basket and found an array of some of his
favorite foods.  He glanced at Sheppard suspiciously.  Maybe the
other Rodney was right-maybe he was being courted.  It was so hard to
tell.  And if he was-how did he feel about that?  This was all so in-
credibly weird.  Sheppard was giving nothing away.  He just smiled
back innocently at Rodney and Rodney was reminded again of what his
counterpart had said about him not making a move until Rodney was
ready.  That relaxed him a little.  He wasn't ready-not yet, and he
had no idea whether he ever would be, but in the meantime, he had to
admit that it was pretty nice to have someone take some kind of a
romantic interest in him.  Usually, it was always him doing the
chasing, and mostly being knocked back-and he kind of liked the idea
of being courted, if that was what was going on here.  
	The view was fantastic, and Rodney watched, mesmerized, as they
ate.  Sheppard made conversation, and Rodney found himself responding
in kind, and enjoying himself, and the time went all too quickly. 
Dating-if that's what this was-had never been so easy as far as
Rodney was concerned.  Usually his dates were disasters of epic
proportions, during which he said or did something so hopelessly
inept or socially awkward that he scared off his potential partner
forever.  This was different, though-he wasn't sure why.  Maybe
because he wasn't sure whether it was a date or not, or maybe because
he was with John.  Rodney didn't know.  He just knew that it was
good, and that got him to thinking that maybe being gay wasn't such a
big deal, after all.  Okay, so it was surprising, but he thought
maybe he could get over the shock if it meant that life was this good
and he felt this...he wasn't sure what the word was...special? 
Liked?  Happy?  
	By the time they returned to the city, later that afternoon, Rodney
actually found himself humming.  He'd even had a nap in the jumper
while John had flown them around after lunch, and he was feeling
better than he had in days-rested and content, and less edgy and bad-
tempered.  John walked him back to his quarters and they stood there
for a moment.  Rodney wondered whether this was where something was
supposed to happen and he fidgeted nerv-ously, but John just grinned
at him and squeezed his shoulder.
	"I hope you enjoyed today," he said.
	"Yes...I did...very much," Rodney babbled.  "Thank you for...you
know...lunch...and...all those fish...and...whatnot."  He flushed and
gazed at his feet to avoid the colonel's amused gaze.  Oh, God!  Date
or not, he was crap at it, whatever it was.
	"It was cool.  We must do it again sometime," John told him.
	"Really?"  Rodney glanced up, his stomach doing a nervous flip. 
So, there was a chance of a second date, then?  He hadn't just blown
it with his amazingly useless attempt at thanking the other man?  He
never usually got as far as a second date with anyone so he had no
idea how to respond.
	"Sure," John said easily.  
	Rodney stared at him for a moment, and John stared back at him, his
eyes fixed on Rodney's bruised lip.  Rodney wondered if he was going
to kiss him, and he had absolutely no idea how he felt about that
happening, but instead John reached out a finger and touched the
cut.  
	"You should get Carson to look at that," he murmured.  
	"It's fine," Rodney said softly, leaning into John ever so
slightly.  
	They stood there for a moment, and then John let out a sigh, and
regretfully drew back.  
	"Okay.  Well, then.  See you, Rodney," he said.
	"Yes.  Fine.  And, um...thanks again, John," Rodney replied.  It
was only when he was back in his room that he realized he'd not only
started calling the other man 'John,' but he'd started thinking of
him that way, too.  Somehow, slowly but surely, and he wasn't even
sure when it had happened, John had crept past his defenses and
wormed his way past all the prickly barriers he put up.  Rodney knew
it was dangerous, and he felt incredibly vulnerable, but at the same
time he couldn't help himself-he had started to trust John, and he
had never trusted anyone in his life before.


*                       *                       *


	The next few days in the lab were a total joy for Rodney McKay.  He
didn't know why he'd ever had such a problem with his counterpart. 
At last, finally, he had someone in the lab who worked at the same
speed as he did, who understood everything he was trying to do, and
who could follow him into even the most complicated areas of
scientific discovery-and it was fantastic!  They talked non-stop,
covering every topic under the sun, each of them filling in tiny gaps
in the other's knowledge, sharing ideas and plans and comparing notes
on various pro-jects while they worked on the QDD.  It was the most
intellectual stimulation Rodney had had in a long time, and he no
longer noticed or cared about any of the things about Rodney Sheppard
that had previously annoyed him so much.  
	Within two days, they had the crystals working, and ready for a
test run the following day.
	Rodney Sheppard was running madly around the lab fixing up some
cabling, while Radek and Rodney McKay worked on trying to focus the
imaging beam so that they could lo-cate the correct universe.  Rodney
had sent everyone else away because, quite simply, none of them were
bright enough to follow what they were doing and he didn't want
anyone getting in the way.
	"Please don't send us to the wrong place," the other Rodney was
saying, donut in one hand, cabling in the other, a manic grin on his
face.  "You know, no offense, but it's taken us weeks to get used to
you guys.  I don't want to have to start all over again in another
freaky uni-verse."
	"No, no, no," Rodney replied with an answering grin as he tapped
out some algorithms.  "We'll make sure it's the right one.  Now, we
have some power going here.  All we have to do is retrieve the memory
core so we'll be able to trace the exact coordinates of your
universe."  He punched in some numbers happily, and a second later,
something flashed in the faded taped off area on the floor in front
of them.
	"What was that?" Radek asked excitably.
	"Some kind of window...not sure..."  Rodney said, trying the code
again.  "Dammit...it looks like the only way of doing a memory trace
is to actually open up windows to various other universes and see if
the coordinates match.  Hmm, that's a lot more laborious than I
thought it would be."
	Rodney Sheppard came and looked over his shoulder, donut still in
mouth.  "Mmm," he said.  "Shunn boky if voiweeno."
	"In English, please, Rodney," Rodney said briskly.  
	The other Rodney removed his donut with an apologetic giggle. 
"Sorry.  I said, should be okay, although we might like to avoid
going near the windows when they're open, just to be on the safe
side."  He pointed to the taped off area.  "You're not activating the
beam so you won't bring anyone through, just opening up various
windows to different universes.  When you get to the right one, these
logarithms should line up," he pointed at the display on Rodney's lap-
top, "and then...then, my friends, me and my husband will be
practically home."  He put a hand on Rodney's shoulder and one on
Radek's shoulder and beamed at them both enthusiastically.
	"But there are hundreds of windows in this section of the QDD!  It
could take days!" Rodney protested.
	"Ah, well.  We've been here weeks already.  Who cares about a few
more days?"  The other Rodney shrugged.  "Besides, much as we want to
go home, we've kind of become fond of you guys, so we're not in any
rush."  He gave them both another wide grin.
	Rodney grinned back at him, wondering why he'd ever found him so
annoying.  He was, as John had said, a really nice guy.  
	They worked solidly for the next couple of hours until Rodney was
cross-eyed from checking out the various different windows.  Each
time he opened one up, there was a shimmer of light in the taped-off
area of the floor, and they had the eerie sensation of looking into a
void.  Sometimes Rodney swore he could see shadows moving in the
window, just out of his line of vision, and occasionally they all
heard noises-just little things; the sound of laughter, the crash of
something smashing on the floor that made them all jump, the strained
tones of an argu-ment-they couldn't make out what was being said, but
they could hear raised, angry voices.  It was actually rather
sinister, and the whole thing was starting to creep Rodney out.  He
took a break, handing the controls over to Radek, and went to pour
himself some coffee, examining some earlier calculations on his
laptop while he sipped.  
	The other Rodney was still laying out the cabling, trying to work
on an interface with the housing that would be strong enough to carry
the huge amount of power required to send them home.  Rodney vaguely
overheard his counterpart say something to Radek about testing the
cabling by setting up an experimental beam, just for a couple of
seconds, and then Rodney saw a flicker of light and the other Rodney
said something in an excited voice and got up and ran across the
room...and then there was a sudden flash of light from the QDD,
accompanied by a loud wailing sound, followed by a startled gasp from
Radek's direction.  Rodney looked up sharply-and met Radek's shocked
eyes staring back at him.  There was no sign of Rodney Sheppard,
though-he seemed to have disappeared completely.
	"Radek?"  Rodney pushed his chair back, his heart pounding in his
chest.
	"He just....  There was a power surge and he just..." Radek said,
trembling slightly as he pointed at the open window in front of them.
	"Radek!" Rodney said in a disbelieving tone.  "You're not telling
me...?  But there was no beam!" he shouted.  "Even with a window
open, it's not possible to go anywhere without the beam!"
	"I'm sorry.  He told me to set up a test beam.  It was only open
for a second.  I had it contained, but there was the power surge and
it broke out of the containment field and he just fell right into it
and disappeared," Radek whispered.  
	"Can we get him back?" Rodney asked, rushing over.
	"I...I don't know.  I could try activating the beam again and see
if it will hold.  He said he'd almost finished with the cabling,"
Radek said desperately.
	Rodney ran over to the QDD, shoved Radek out of the way, punched in
the activation code and turned on the beam.  There was a loud noise
and a burst of light, but nobody material-ized.
	"He isn't in the target area anymore!" Rodney yelled at Radek. 
"Why doesn't he get back in there?"
	"I do not know," Radek said ominously.  "Maybe he has been injured?"
	Rodney had only a split second to make his decision.  "I'm going
through," he said grimly.  
	"What?"  Radek was aghast.  "Rodney, the beam itself might have
injured him.  If you go through, then the same thing might happen to
you!  Rodney, we do not even know if he's still alive!"
	"I'm going through," Rodney said again, in a determined voice. 
"Radek, we mustn't over-load the crystals.  It took us weeks to get
them working.  Once I'm through, I want you to turn off the beam and
give them time to recharge.  Thirty minutes should do it.  Then turn
on the beam again.  I'll try and be in position with Dr. Sheppard at
that exact same time."
	"And if that doesn't work?" Radek asked, his eyes wide with worry.
	"Then get the colonel and general down here," Rodney said grimly. 
"Brief them on the situation and let them decide what to do next."
	"Rodney, I still think it would be better if we shut it down and
you waited-" Radek 
began.
	"No.  I'm not leaving him there," Rodney said flatly.  "I already
screwed up his life once. I'm not doing it again.  Just make sure you
keep the window between these two universes open, whatever you do. 
If you close it, then you might never find this one again and we'll
be lost there forever.  Activate the beam every thirty minutes, but
don't keep it on for more than two minutes at a time."
	With that, he ran towards the taped-off area, took a deep breath
and threw himself into the path of the beam.


*                       *                       *


	Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was in the practice room, sparring
with his counter-part.  He'd learned some good moves from the other
man and they each enjoyed sparring with someone whose ability so
closely matched his own.  John flicked his sticks and grinned, ad-
vancing on the general.  The other man grinned back, his teeth
flashing, and he did a perfect little flick of his sticks in
response.  John feinted forwards, and the general lunged sideways. 
John raised his sticks, seeing a slight gap in the other man's
defenses and he moved in to take advantage of it...when suddenly the
general sank to his knees and let out a blood-curdling howl,
clutching at his chest.
	"General?"  John threw his sticks down and ran over to him.  
	The other man's face was a picture of agony.  His head was flung
back and he was gaz-ing sightlessly at the ceiling, veins bulging in
his neck, his mouth open in a silent roar.  
	"General?" John gripped the other man's shoulders urgently.
	"Rodney," the general whispered, in a hoarse, anguished tone.  "Oh,
God...oh, no.... Rodney!"  He sank back onto the floor, writhing in
pain.  
	John tapped his radio urgently.  "Medical emergency!  Carson, I
need you in the practice room-now!" he called, and then he turned his
attention back to the general.  "General, what is it?  Are you
injured?" John ripped open the other man's shirt, but there was no
sign of any in-jury.  He was still clutching his chest, though, and
rolling around on the practice mat.
	Carson arrived a few seconds later, and ran straight over to them. 
He pushed John out of the way and knelt down beside the general.
	"What is it?  Is it his heart?" John asked anxiously.  "He was fine
one minute and then he just went down.  It was like he'd been shot."
	"It's not his heart," Carson said, looking up grimly.  "That sounds
fine-a bit fast, but then he's in a lot of pain."
	"Then what is it?" John demanded, gazing at the helplessly
contorted face that looked so much like his own.
	"To be honest, I have no idea," Carson told him.  "We'll get him
back to the infirmary and run some tests."
	"No!" the general said, trying to roll over and stagger to his
feet.  
	John knelt down beside him and pushed him back.  "You're in no
shape to go any-where," he told his counterpart.
	"No...don't understand..."  the general hissed, his face red, his
eyes bulging from pain.  He grabbed hold of John's wrist urgently. 
"It's Rodney...he's been badly hurt....  Can feel it through the
lifebond...."  
	"Wait a minute," Carson said, shaking his head.  "You're saying
that you're experiencing Rodney's injury-that this is his pain?"
	"Yes," the general whispered hoarsely.  "Help him, John.  Oh, God."
He banged his head back on the floor.  "Oh, shit...he's dying.  Help
him!"  He curled into a ball and gave a low, animalistic moan that
sent shivers up John's spine.
	"Do what you can for him," he told Carson, and then he sprinted out
of the door and ran down the hallways to the lab.  He burst through
the door, to find Radek standing by the QDD, trembling, completely
alone.
	"Radek?" he demanded, coming to a skidding halt by the QDD.  "Where
are they?  Where did they go?"
	"There was an accident," Radek whispered.  "Rodney Sheppard...he
fell into the beam from the QDD when we were testing it.  He went
through the window into another universe...."  He nodded towards the
taped-off area of the room and John saw an eerie gap in the fabric of
their reality, full of shadows, and just the hint of sound.  "Our
Rodney went after him.  He told me...he told me to turn off the beam
to conserve energy, but to keep the window open so we don't lose
contact with the universe they are in.  I am to bring the beam on
again every thirty minutes and he will try and get himself and the
other Rodney into position to be brought back."
	"Rodney Sheppard is badly hurt.  He's in urgent need of medical
treatment," John told him.  "We have to open that beam up again now."
	"I cannot!" Radek protested.  "The crystals will burn out.  They
need thirty minutes to re-charge."
	"Thirty minutes might be too late!" John yelled.
	"Rodney gave me very specific instructions.  If we burn out the
crystals, we might not be able to get either of them back," Radek
told him in a frightened voice.  John stared at him.
	"Damn it!" he roared at last, thumping his fist down on the lab
table.  Radek shrank back against the QDD.  "Okay...all right.  Keep
that damn window open whatever you do.  I'm going to get a team
together and if they don't come straight back through when you can
activate that beam again, then I'm going in to get them," John
growled.
	He raced back to the infirmary, to find Carson hooking his
counterpart up to a monitor.
	"Have you been able to help him?" he asked.  
	Carson shook his head and spread his arms helplessly.  "There's
nothing wrong with him, Colonel.  I've given him some pain meds, but
they aren't helping at all.  All I can think of is to give him a
sedative and knock him out completely."
	"No!" the general rasped, reaching out and clutching at John's arm.
"If you do that, I won't be able to help Rodney.  I'm all that's
keeping him alive right now."
	"How d'you work that out?" Carson said, coming to stand beside the
general, a worried frown creasing his forehead.
	"He's been badly injured.  I'm giving him my own strength.  If you
sedate me, I won't be able to help him and he'll die," the general
hissed, still clutching his chest.  "John...where is he?" he asked,
gazing at John in despair.  "Why didn't you bring him here for Carson
to treat?  He's in so much pain right now."
	"He's not here, General," John told him.  "There was an accident
with the QDD.  Our own Rodney went in after him, so he's got someone
there with him, looking after him.  I'm going to assemble a team and
we'll go in and get them."
	"Go," the general rasped.  "Bring them home, John.  Bring them both
back for us."  
	"I will," John said softly.  "I promise."


*                       *                       *


Part Eleven:  Three Rodneys


	Ten minutes later, John returned to the lab with Ronon, Teyla and
Major Lorne in tow, all of them armed to the teeth.  
	"Do we have any idea what's facing us in that universe?" he asked
Radek.  
	The scientist shook his head.  "No, but once I activate the beam,
you should be able to communicate with Rodney via the radio before
going in.  You'll have to be quick.  I can only keep the beam open
for a couple of minutes before the crystals burn out."
	"A couple of minutes is long enough to find out what's going on,"
John said grimly.  "Is it time yet?" 
	Radek glanced at his watch and then nodded, and his fingers moved
fast over the QDD interface.  The beam flashed into life and John
held his breath, his attention fixed on the window into the other
universe in the taped-off area of the room, but nobody materialized.  
	"There's nobody there," Radek said, his face pale.
	"Dammit!"  John reached up and touched his radio.  "Rodney, are you
there?" he shouted.
	"John?  Oh, thank God," came back Rodney's low, breathy whisper. 
"Rodney Sheppard has been shot."
	"I know.  We've activated the beam.  Get him back into the window
and we can-"
	"I can't do that," Rodney's voice hissed.
	"Why not?"
	"Because there are four Genii standing here with their guns on us
both right now," 
Rodney said.  
	"Who is that?  Who are you talking to?" a voice said in the
background.
	"Myself!  Look, I told you, he's dying.  He needs a doctor.  Get
Carson up here now!"
	"Nobody is going anywhere until Commander Kolya gets back," the
voice replied.  "But you were talking to someone.  Is this an
invasion?  You're not Dr. McKay-who are you?"
	"I've told you who I am!  Now, are you going to help him or not?"
	"Be quiet...."  
	There was a sickening crunch, a muffled scream, and then the radio
went dead.
	"Rodney!"  John listened for another second, but there was no
reply.  "Right, we're going in," he told his team.  "There are four
armed Genii on the other side of this window, but we have the
advantage of surprise.  Radek, shut the beam down when we're through
and start it up again at thirty minute intervals after that," he
ordered.  "Let's get moving."  
	John ran up to the window, his team behind him, and threw himself
straight into the path of the beam.  He had a brief moment of
disorientation as he found himself standing in the same lab he'd just
left-only without Radek and the QDD behind him.  To his right, he
could see Rod-ney Sheppard, lying on the floor in a pool of blood,
with a gaping wound to his chest.  His own Rodney was crouching
beside him, one arm clutched over his ribs, a trickle of blood
running from a gash on the side of his face.  John didn't have time
to take in any more than that, though, because he saw the Genii
soldiers turning, mouths gaping as he seemed to appear from no-where.
John fired on them before they knew what had hit them, and seconds
later the others fell as Ronon, Teyla and Lorne joined in the fight. 
Only when the Genii had been dispatched did John have the chance to
look around properly.  
	The lab was virtually identical to the one he'd just left, only it
was in a much worse state of repair.  It looked untidy and uncared
for.  
	"John?" a voice said tremulously from the corner of the room, and
John spun around to see a thin figure cowering away from the
gunfire.  
	"Oh, shit," he whispered.  The man was another version of Rodney-
only this Rodney was a pale, frail-looking creature.  His clothes
hung off him and he had a haunted look in his blue eyes that sent
shivers down John's spine.
	"He's not your John, idiot," his own Rodney said behind him.  "He's
mine."  
	John turned back and strode over to where his Rodney was crouched
beside Dr. Sheppard.  
	"How is he?" he asked.
	"Bad.  We need to get Carson up here," Rodney said.  
	"Are you okay?"  John's eyes raked over Rodney's cut face and the
awkward way he was holding himself.
	"I'm fine.  From what I can figure out, we're in a universe where
the Genii seized the city during that big storm last year.  Kolya is
in charge here.  He was on the mainland when we came through, but
they've called him back.  They shot Rodney Sheppard because he took
them by surprise when he suddenly appeared in here.  It won't be long
before Kolya gets back and then we're really in trouble."
	"Radek will open up that beam again in thirty minutes," John told
him.
	"Please...you can't just leave.  You have to help us," the new
Rodney said.  
	John took a deep breath.  Having two Rodneys around was freaky, but
three was posi-tively insane.  He stood up and turned to the other
man.  
	"Does Carson Beckett exist in this universe?" he demanded.  The new
Rodney nodded.  "Good.  Then get him up here," he ordered.
	"I already radioed for him," new Rodney said.  "We'll help your
friend, but you must help us in return."  He glanced at Rodney
Sheppard's still form, a puzzled expression on his face.  "I'm
guessing this is some kind of inter-dimensional thing, and I'm not
saying that normally I wouldn't be jumping up and down in excitement
about this, but right now all I'm thinking is that this is too good
an opportunity to miss.  You must help us."  He reached out a hand
and grabbed John's arm, and John noticed the livid bruises on his
wrists-he could make out actual fingerprints imprinted on the
scientist's flesh.  
	"We will if we can," John told him grimly, wondering what the hell
was going on in this reality.  "Fill me in."
	"The Genii control the city, but they don't have the gene so they
can't work anything.  We haven't told them it's possible to inject
the gene," new Rodney said quickly.  "So they've had to keep us here
to work things for them.  They don't understand the Ancient
technology, in any case, so all the scientists are useful to them. 
They've got the military locked up."
	"Do you know where?" John asked.
	"Oh, yes.  I know where," new Rodney replied, in a weary tone.
	"How far?  Can we mount a rescue mission in 25 minutes?" John
demanded.
	"It's not far-and they won't be expecting anything, so it's worth a
try," new Rodney said hopefully, his blue eyes pleading with John.  
	John didn't have it in him to refuse this thin-faced, bruised,
clearly maltreated version of someone he was so much in love with.
	At that moment, Carson ran into the lab...and skidded to a halt
when he saw John.
	"Major?  Oh, thank God!  How did you get free?" he asked.  
	John shook his head.  "I'm not Major Sheppard.  It's a long story,
Carson-but there's a man over there who needs your help," he said,
nodding at the two Rodneys.  
	Carson took in the pool of blood and ran straight over to Rodney
Sheppard, and then stared from one Rodney to the other...to the other.
	"No time to explain!" John's Rodney said briskly.  "He's bleeding
to death here!"
	Carson immediately set to work, but from the grim set of his lips,
John guessed the news wasn't good.
	"Is he going to be okay?" John's Rodney demanded as Carson worked.
	"I have no idea how he's even alive," Carson muttered.  "He
shouldn't be.  These inju-ries...."  He shook his head.
	"Do something!" John's Rodney said helplessly.
	"I'll try, son, but he's in a bad way," Carson told him.  "I need
to get him to the infirmary."
	"No," John butted in.  "He stays here.  We have to go back through
a window into an-other dimension in just under thirty minutes and our
Carson will take care of him from there.  Just keep him alive for
that long, Doc."
	Carson gave a grim nod and John turned back to the new Rodney.
	"All right.  Take us to where they're holding Major Sheppard," he
commanded, beckoning his team to accompany him.  His own Rodney got
to his feet.  "You stay here," John ordered.
	"No," John's Rodney said, his jaw jutting out obstinately.  "I
can't help Carson.  I'll be more use with you.  You're going to need
all the help you can get if you're going to go through with this
insane plan."
	"We don't have time to argue about this!" John growled.
	"Then you'll have to let me come with you, won't you?" his Rodney
retorted, grabbing a gun from Teyla and falling into li