Title: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Recipient: Argosy
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: R/NC-17
Word Count: 16,483
Timeline/Spoilers: Takes place during 402—Lifeline (between getting ZPM but before landing on the new planet).
Summary: It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes. ~Douglas Adams

A/N: Many thanks to my sister and Rez for the beta. They made it a thousand times better. All remaining mistakes are totally mine.

1300 hrs

"Rodney?"

"What did you touch?"

"I didn't touch anything."

Rodney blinked several times in the complete darkness. Releasing his death-grip from the side of the lab bench, he fumbled to where his laptop had been and patted around in the dark until he found it under the lab bench.

"We're not moving anymore, are we?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney hit his head on the table. "Obviously not. You know, I just want to stay in hyperspace for more than a few minutes. Is that so goddamn hard? Is that too much to ask?"

Tapping the screen, he let out a small sigh as the computer sprang to life, emitting some light to see by as well.

NO INPUT, the screen told him.

"Of course," Rodney muttered under his breath as he saw the shambles that used to be his lab. Picking up a broken coffee mug, while Sheppard tried the radio, he grimaced when he saw the puddle of coffee that bathed a circuit board underneath.

"Control room, come in."

Rodney looked up but Sheppard just shook his head. "Radio's dead. So what the hell happened, McKay?"

Rodney punched a few more buttons on his screen. "I don't know. I need a hard connection. Here, give me a hand." Rodney passed the laptop to Sheppard while he started lifting computers and other debris off the floor, trying to find the connection to the main computer. Sheppard, who seemed more interested in making shadow puppets, held the laptop at an angle that actually prevented Rodney from seeing anything useful. Rodney grabbed the laptop back, stuck it under his arm and traced the cable from the wireless router, hooking it up directly to his laptop.

The laptop still complained that it had no connection. Rodney swore as he climbed back into the mess.

"What?"

Trashed technology, circuit boards imprinted into his knees, life-threatening environmental conditions (he nearly fractured a fibula tripping over a toolbox, hunting for the direct-access connection to the Atlantis mainframe), the apparent extinction of anything resembling a goddamn alligator clip in the entire goddamn laboratory, and oh yes, the most annoying (though possibly the prettiest) Air Force Colonel in the history of ever, remembered only after Rodney came very close to suffering a concussion walking into a server box, that he had a goddamn flashlight in his tac vest: it was all fairly normal, really.

Rodney swore again for emphasis while pulling apart wires and twisting them onto the contacts he'd molded into his laptop months ago in expectation of pretty much this exact scenario. The machine beeped and started to scroll data.

With a sigh, Rodney flipped it over and started to read. "This isn't good."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. It's like we hit something and that dropped us out of hyperspace."

"I didn't think we could hit something while in hyperspace."

Rodney rolled his eyes, wondering why he even bothered. "I said 'like, like we hit' obviously we didn't really hit a planet or sun. But we've stopped and something's damaged our navigational system. I can't even get the co-ordinates of where we are."

"Anything on sensors?"

The headache was starting to get worse, but whether it was from the injury or having to deal with Sheppard, he didn't know. "I can't tell anything from here. The damn computer's telling me there's no data being transmitted from the sensors to the mainframe."

"We should try and make our way to the control room then."

Rodney surveyed the disaster in his lab once more. "You know, if the shield has failed, we could be in a pocket of air and the moment we try and open the doors, we'll end up in the cold vacuum of space."

"Well, we could stay here, and use up our precious air talking about all the ways we could die, and in the end die from suffocation anyway, or we could try and do something to maybe save ourselves."

Rodney put his laptop in hibernation, reducing the light in the room to just Sheppard's flashlight, and gestured towards the door.

1315 hrs

"Tell me again why this is a good idea," Rodney grunted with Sheppard pressed up behind him.

Sheppard, flashlight in mouth, mumbled something incoherent.

With a horrible grinding sound, the doors unsealed far enough for Rodney to work his shoulders between them. The leverage gave him another few inches, enough to get the rest of his body through.

Sheppard followed easily enough. "See, Rodney? Knew you could do it."

Rodney snorted. There was still no wireless signal in the hall. "That door is never going to work properly again. I can't believe there wasn't any power going to the emergency override mechanism."

"As long as we live to bitch about it later, that's fine by me. We've got a long way to go and I have a feeling the transporters probably aren't working either."

Together they headed down the hall, pausing only long enough to discover that Sheppard usually didn't bring his sidearm when he came to hang out in Rodney's lab.

"Weren't you ever a boy scout? What happened to always being prepared?" Rodney asked.

That earned him a glare. "Don't worry, Rodney. Keep talking. I'm revising that procedure as we speak—Hey! Did you see that?"

Rodney looked, but all he saw was darkness outside of the illuminated spot from Sheppard's flashlight. "See what?"

Sheppard swung the light around but this was one of the main corridors and the beam couldn't reach more than twenty feet.

"Hello?" he called out.

The echo sent a shiver up Rodney's spine. The hallway was deserted. Sheppard tried his radio again, but there was no answer.

"Where is everyone?" Rodney asked. "There should be people around trying to figure out what happened. I think Zelenka had a team in that lab over there."

Sheppard pulled out the life-sign detector and showed him the pale green glow of the empty screen.

"It's not picking them up," Rodney noted.

"It's not picking us up either," Sheppard said. Rodney took the detector from him and gave it a good whack.

"Does that usually help?" Sheppard asked. The screen remained blank.

Rodney grimaced and gave it back to him. "Obviously it's malfunctioning just like everything else around here."

"Or we're dead," Sheppard replied matter-of-factly.

Sheppard gave the door a loud knock. "Zelenka, you in there?"

No one answered.

"Come on. Maybe they're hurt or something," Rodney said, squeezing by Sheppard so they could repeat the process they'd gone through to open the door a few minutes back.

Eventually, they got the door opened, but there was no one inside. Computer equipment lay trashed around the room.

"They probably went to work on something," Sheppard said. "Let's keep making our way to the control room."

Rodney followed him down the hall. Zelenka and his team had been preparing the city for re-entry; it was possible they could have finished diverting power back to the sub-light thrusters ahead of schedule and gone down to the base of the control room to start physically bringing all the systems back on-line. Maybe. Of course, another possibility was that Zelenka and the other scientists were sucked into a micro-crack in the universe and were currently being crushed to death by dark matter.

"You don't really think we're dead, do you?" Rodney couldn't stop himself from asking, mostly because he wanted to hear Sheppard talk. Now that the idea of a micro-crack in the universe had taken hold, it seemed entirely too likely that that's where Zelenka had gone. Or maybe they'd been sucked into an alternate dimension. The possibilities were endless, really.

Sheppard snorted. "If there is an afterlife, I'm holding out for fluffy clouds and angels singing and less for walking through creepy, deserted hallways."

"Angels, huh? I never figured you for a classicist."

They passed junction AA8, their footsteps echoing eerily. Sheppard said, "My dad dragged me to church on Sundays. I mostly used the time to throw spitballs at Molly Anderson, but I did catch a few things every now and then. The angels thing and the part about brimstone are about all I remember."

"So there might have been stuff about walking through creepy hallways, you just weren't paying attention."

"Maybe, but I'm pretty sure I don't remember anything about having to drag an astrophysicist around as part of the afterlife. That I would have re—"

A cool breeze and a half-seen movement down the corridor spun Rodney around. Sheppard swung the flashlight to the same spot, but there was nothing there.

Just an empty hallway with a fish tank sitting silently in the corner and some empty chairs.

Then the flashlight slowly died away, leaving them in complete darkness.

Rodney grabbed Sheppard's arm. "Please tell me you have another set of batteries."

"Sorry," Sheppard replied.

"So now what are we going to do? We're stuck here."

"I think we should keep going. We'll just take it nice and slow, and turn on your computer when we need light. Come one, we know Atlantis like the back of our hands. I'm sure we can get to the control room."

Moving slowly, taking small steps so he could feel things with his legs and elbows, Rodney tucked the computer close to his body and tried not to panic.

1333 hrs

"I'm tired of being on the bottom. I think we should switch." Rodney was on his knees, prying at the door open while Sheppard, directly behind him, tried to open it from the top.

"It doesn't work that way," Sheppard said cheerfully. "People either top or bottom. They usually don't do both."

Rodney let out a grunt as they forced the gears. The doors must have been locked down when power was lost; it was the only reason he could think for why they were so difficult to open. Wanting to make the most out of his already wasted time, he'd spend the past twenty minutes organizing a few choice words for the idiot who'd triggered this because he had no doubt someone, somewhere had done something stupid.

Unfortunately, Sheppard's stupid double entendres were annoyingly amusing and he had a hard time keeping his scowl.

Rodney felt his way around in the dark, mostly using Sheppard as an anchor. He climbed to his feet and found himself practically plastered against Sheppard's body in the process.

For the first time, he was a little grateful for the complete darkness. Gathering courage from nowhere, he jokingly reached out and patted Sheppard on the cheek. "Live a little, Sheppard," he said. "Besides, my knees are killing me."

1345 hrs

"I think we missed the hallway," Rodney said, halting them both. "We should have hit junction AA5 already and hung a right."
"No, this is it. We haven't even gone sixty paces yet."

"Junction AA5 is only thirty meters from junction AA8. I'm telling you, I think we missed it."

"Normally I get about a yard a pace, but we've been taking small steps so I'm guessing half a yard per pace and a yard's about a meter...This is the right hallway here."

Rodney rubbed his face with his hands. "Oh, God. This is going to be another Mars Orbiter catastrophe. I'm telling you, we missed the hall."

The light from the laptop barely traveled a few feet, but it was enough to show that this hallway wasn't junction AA5, at least.

Rodney turned off his computer and pulled Sheppard back down in the direction they had just come, down the correct hallway and twenty-five meters closer to the control room than when they'd started. And judging from the time he'd seen on the computer, it had only taken them half an hour.

"I really hope no one's waiting for us to save the day," Rodney said with a sigh.

1430 hrs

Five doors, two hundred and sixty-three steps later, Rodney had the sinking suspicion that they were lost.

"Okay, this is either the transporter, the entrance to the cafeteria or the door to stairwell A5," Sheppard said jovially.

"You're awfully chipper for someone who could be facing imminent death at any minute." Rodney scowled.

"And you're awfully miserable for someone in the same condition. If these are our last few hours alive, Rodney, don't you want to spend them being happy?"

Rodney figured it would be wise to refrain from answering that. "Aren't you at all freaked out by the fact that we haven't run into anyone yet?"

Sheppard started humming. "Not really. We had less than half the people on board, remember? Atlantis is pretty big for only a hundred people. So which do you think this is?"

"What?"

"The transporter, the entrance to the cafeteria or the door to stairwell?"

Rodney sighed. "Knowing our luck it's probably the entrance to the waste disposal section. Come on, let's just do it." He settled into the routine of cozying-up so Sheppard could stand behind him and force the doors far enough apart for Rodney to get a fingerhold between them.

There was an odd glow as they pried the doors open. "Hello? Anyone there?"

"Rodney? Is that you?" came a feminine voice from inside.

"Katie?" The light was strong enough that Rodney could see Katie standing deep in a pile of...things... looking happily at him.

"Rodney?"

It appeared they'd actually found the botany lab. Stranger still, the odd green glow was all around them.

"Rodney! It's so good to see you. I was getting worried that something had happened to you."

Rodney stared at her in shock. "Something happened to all of us. Didn't you feel that crash that jolted us out of hyperspace?"

Katie gave him a smile. "I figured it was something like that. But then I couldn't reach you on the radio—"

"Because you can't reach anyone on radio. What are you doing here? Where's everyone else?"

Katie gestured around the lab. "I'm helping people, Rodney. In case you haven't noticed, it's dark. Here, have a potato."

Rodney barely had time to catch what she threw at him, especially because he was still trying to understand what she'd just said. "A potato?"

Sheppard went over to her, looked her up and down and then grabbed a potato of his own. "Can we eat them?"

Katie giggled nervously. "They're not bad if you cook them first, but applying heat makes them loose their phosphorescent properties. At the moment, they'll probably give us about fifteen hours of light."

Rodney stuck his finger in his ear and gave it a good shake but when he was done Katie and Sheppard were still talking about triplet states and forbidden quantum mechanical states as they applied to potatoes. "If I'm not interrupting, you said you're helping people. Have you seen anyone else since we dropped out of hyperspace?"

"Sure," Katie said, reluctantly putting down the potato she'd been playing with. "Radek came by here a half hour ago. I gave him, Peterson, Hansen, and Miller three potatoes each."

"Where'd they go?"

Katie shrugged. "I'm not sure. They said something about rewiring the panels on B-3...or maybe it was V-3. I don't know."

"Did Zelenka say what had caused us to drop out of hyperspace?"

"No..." Katie trailed off. "But now that you mention it, he was acting a little nervous. He wanted to know where you were. When I said I didn't know, he told me to stay here until midnight and to tell anyone I saw to do the same. Err...except you. He wanted you to go help Simpson. I offered to pack him some carrots as he was leaving, but he said he wouldn't need them."

"What do you do with the carrots? Use them for heat?" Sheppard asked.

Katie gave him a look. "No, you eat them. It sounded like he would be gone a while."

"Did he say where Simpson was?" Rodney asked, interrupting.

Katie shook her head.

"Thanks anyway," Rodney said, putting his potato in his pocket and tapping his computer on. There was still no wireless signal here. "You want to come with us? We're going to the control room to see what happened. There's no point in you staying here all by yourself."

"Oh! I almost forgot. Radek said to stay away from the control room at all costs."

"Anything else?" he said, fighting the urge to snap.

He managed to upset Katie anyway. "No. Sorry, Rodney. I don't remember, but they were all talking so fast."

Rodney forced a smile onto his face. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted. It's just, we're looking for him. Look, why don't you come with us. I guess we're going to go look for Simpson, wherever she might be. There's no point in staying here by yourself."

Katie shook her head again. "I can't, Rodney. I don't want to leave the Galas plants—they're flowering and they need someone to talk to. Besides, I'm helping here. I've got a lot of potatoes to give out, and everyone needs a little light to help them see in the dark."

Beaming, Sheppard nodded in understanding, irking Rodney a little more.

1440 hours

Rodney stood outside of the botany lab and looked back, reluctant to leave but Katie waved and smiled, and Sheppard motioned for him forward. With Sheppard's potato providing some light, they quickly found their way back into the main corridor.

"So where are we going? Any idea where Simpson would be?" Sheppard asked.

"Not a clue. I thought they were in Zelenka's lab before all this started, remember? I think we should go to the sensor array instead. If Atlantis' systems aren't talking to each other then at least I'll be able to interface with them directly. Assuming they're still functioning, of course."

They set about opening another door and making their way down the hall.

"So how are things going with you and Dr Brown?" Sheppard asked ten minutes later, as they came to another junction.

Rodney paused and put his head against a partially open door. "She's handing out potatoes. Isn't that a little strange?"

"Not really. She is a botanist."

Rodney turned to look at Sheppard, and Sheppard took a small step back out of Rodney's personal space. "Doesn't something strike you as odd?"

Sheppard tilted his head. "Other than the fact that something has obviously gone wrong with Atlantis and caused us to drop out of hyperspace and made all the computers and radios stop working?"

"Yeah, besides that." The greenish glow from the potato illuminating Sheppard's face made him look more than usually boyish. "I mean, Katie didn't seem very worried. You don't actually seem very worried either."

"I'm worried. I'm the one that suggested we go to the control room. You were happy just hanging out in your lab, remember?"

"I guess," Rodney said, though something still bothered him about the whole situation. The last time he'd looked at his laptop it had shown an elapsed time of two hours since the crash. Rodney turned back to the door and finished prying it open. They passed through and continued down the corridor.

"So does that mean things are serious between you two?"

"What?"

"You and Brown. Are you guys serious?"

Rodney leaned against the wall; he needed a rest. It felt like they'd already traveled several kilometers, but that was impossible. "I don't know. She's nice and sweet, and she puts up with me. In case you haven't noticed, no one else is lining up to ask me out."

Sheppard leaned against the wall next to him and slid down to the floor. "I think I need to increase my workouts with Ronon. It feels like we should be there already."

Joining him on the floor, Rodney pulled out his tablet and brought up a schematic of Atlantis. "We've only gone two four meters; it's over a kilometer to the sensor array when you take into account all the stairs. I can't believe it's taking us so long."

"Well, there are doors every ten feet practically."

Rodney studied the schematic. "Something doesn't make sense. Katie said Zelenka was going to B3 with Miller, Hansen, and Peterson. But Miller and Hansen are your guys, so why are they working with Zelenka? And why would he leave Simpson on her own? Then there's the small fact that the B3 wiring panel is for environmental controls."

Sheppard looked over his shoulder at the schematic Rodney smelled a mixture of sweat and Sheppard's aftershave and felt his heart do a little flip-flop.

There was a pause when Sheppard's eyes flicked up and met his own, and for a second Rodney thought he would say something—they were a little too much in each other's personal space not too—but instead Sheppard said nothing, making it all seem a little more intentional.

Rodney forced himself to his feet and powered down the computer before he did something stupid. "Well, shall we? No point in dilly-dallying, I guess."

Sheppard got up easily, as if nothing strange had happened. "At least the sensor array is closer than the control room—we just have to go to the next tower over, and all the way up."

"At least there are no doors in the stairwell," Rodney said with a sigh, pushing the strange feelings to the side. Maybe they were all in his head. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed Sheppard in that way, but it was the first time in nearly a year and a half—to be honest, Rodney had thought he was over it. Had hoped he was over it, at least, but he was willing to concede that maybe he was just having a moment of weakness brought on by the current situation.

Or maybe it meant he really had a thing for people in uniform.

Rodney gave himself a mental shake and watched Sheppard walk on ahead and decided that maybe it didn't matter. It meant disaster either way, if he were ever foolish enough to act on it.

1530 hrs

"Are we there yet?" Rodney said, panting as they pushed open the fifteen-millionth door. While Sheppard had been correct in saying that the sensor array was closer than the control room, Rodney should have realized that he'd failed to take the stairs into account. Twenty flights down and thirty-four flights up, to be exact.

Beside him, Sheppard was panting just as hard. "I don't know. You're the guy with the map."

Rodney was about to turn on his laptop when he heard a loud clang.

Instantly, Sheppard had his pocket knife out and was scanning the corridor junction they were in. The clang repeated itself, followed by a series of dull thwats, and some muted grunts that were apparently coming from down the hall.

They took off at a run.

As they rounded the corner, they found the door to one of the gymnasiums open, and the warm glow of candlelight spilling out.

Rodney got there close on Sheppard's heels, stopping barely in time to keep himself from plowing into Sheppard's suddenly immobile back.

Inside the room, Teyla and Ronon were sparring.

There were a hundred lit candles on shelves and ledges, casting more than enough light to see by. The two of them were oblivious to their arrival and Rodney revised his initial assessment of their activity when Ronon, knocked off his feet with a single strike, grabbed Teyla's arm and brought her down with him. When she landed, he pinned her arm above her head and settled over her in a decidedly suggestive manner.

Rodney swallowed hard and stared, open-mouthed.

Teyla hissed and used her free hand grab Ronon's hair. She pulled back until he yelped with pain and slid off, then did a quick reverse that pinned him to the floor under her straddled legs. Only judging by how she moved her hips, she wasn't necessarily trying to hold him down.

Ronon groaned and thrust up against her, wrapped his arms around her hips and lifted her whole body up, to bring it back down against him even harder. She threw her head back.

Sheppard cleared his throat, finally.

Teyla's head snapped to the side. She stopped moving "John," she said breathlessly.

Ronon grunted at the interruption and then turned back to Teyla and continued to grind against her.

"Um..." Rodney began but really didn't know what to say. He'd been about to ask whether he and Sheppard were interrupting, but obviously they were, and it seemed rude to point that out. But then Teyla and Ronon both looked over, clearly expecting him to continue, and he had to come up with something. He risked a glance at Sheppard and saw a beaded line of sweat on his forehead, which further derailed his train of thought. "So, any idea what happened?" was the best he could come up with.

Teyla casually got up and grabbed her towel. "I do not know," she said, wiping her face. "I was in the infirmary helping Doctor Keller when Ronon came in. He was mildly injured so I began tending his wounds. There was a very loud noise and the lights and medical equipment stopped functioning."

Ronon eventually got up off the floor, adjusted his crotch and walked over. "We were hoping you knew what happened."

Rodney just stared at him. "And you thought I'd be in the gym?"

Ronon shrugged.

"Lieutenant Miller asked us to help him find Doctor Simpson. When we found her, they left together. We were waiting for you. Lieutenant Miller said you might find your way here." Teyla looked a little embarrassed. Her face was still flushed with exertion and possibly something more.

"I thought Miller was with Hansen, Zelenka and Peterson?" Sheppard asked.

Teyla shook her head. "Some time after the lights went out, Lieutenant Miller brought Sergeant Hansen into the infirmary. He was badly burned. I could not get a clear answer as to what had caused his injuries, only that they were with Zelenka when they occurred. It was then that Miller asked us to help him find Doctor Simpson. He said that she would need help activating the cell."

"The cell?" Rodney asked, trying to get it all straight in his head.

"Yeah," Ronon elaborated. "We tried to get more information out of him, but he just kept offering us a potato."

"Right," Sheppard said, pocketing his own potato. There was enough light with all the candles that they didn't currently need it.

Rodney confirmed their probable location with the map on his laptop and then gestured towards the hall. "Look, we came all this way, we might as well check out the sensors. Maybe they'll give us some clue as to what's going on."

They all filed out of the gym, Teyla pausing only to pick up her fighting sticks and hand out a candle to each of them. Ronon pulled out his gun.

1548 hrs

The server room was just as dark, quiet, and empty as the hallways they'd been traveling for the last few hours. Rodney put his candle on a console just as the wax dripped onto his fingers and burned them. "Ow!"

"Careful," Sheppard said unhelpfully.

Rodney tried not to roll his eyes. "As stupid as it sounds, I think I prefer the potato. Less of a fire hazard. You're all aware that we're in an oxygen rich atmosphere, right? Oxygen—combustion hazard. Granted we're not over-pressurized, but hello? Apollo 1, anyone?"

"Right," Sheppard said, wetting his fingers. The lights went out with a quiet sizzle as he pinched the wicks. He pulled out his potato.

Rodney went to the main computer and got to work. With all the Wraith attacks they'd experienced over the last few years, most of the sensors had been worked on, which meant that Rodney knew almost exactly which wires he needed.

The almost was due to the fact that Rodney hadn't done all the repairs himself, so of course, there were redundancies and loops that were totally senseless and unnecessary and caused him to spent a good five minutes just trying to trace the power input circuit.

"Rodney?" Sheppard called out.

Rodney waved him off, pulling wires out of the output interface. "What? Can't you see I'm busy right now? The moron who worked on this system placed four redundant voltage regulators instead of three. This is not a case of more is better. I'll have to deactivate the whole thing or I'll never be able to interface my computer—"

"I think you should see this," Sheppard said, and something in his voice made Rodney pause.

"All right, hold on, let me just unhook this one—there...Now I should be able to power up..." Rodney flicked the switch, but nothing happened. Tracing the power lines to the power converter, he saw that the power supply itself had been sabotaged. "What the—"

This time, Teyla interrupted. "Rodney?"

Rodney dropped the wires in his hands onto the floor. "What? What's so import—"

When he finally looked up, he could see directly out the window and into the nothingness that everyone else was looking at. Rodney stood up and walked over to stand beside them.

"Where are we?" Rodney asked, staring out where all the stars should have been. The shield emitters offered a faint light that illuminated the city, but beyond its borders there was just a vertigo-inducing darkness.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Sheppard said. "Last time I checked, there were stars in space. Lots of them."

"We must have jumped off course."

"Did we jump into the void between galaxies?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney shook his head. "We were only in hyperspace for five minutes. There's no way we could have crossed that much distance."

Rodney turned away from the window and back to the mess of equipment.

"The sensors cannot tell you anything?" Teyla asked.

"Not unless I spend three days rewiring the power supply. Someone purposefully cut power to the sensor array."

That got Sheppard's attention. "You mean someone inside the city is sabotaging us?"

The words gave Rodney a sinking feeling in his chest, but he couldn't ignore what his eyes were telling him. "It looks like that."

"I heard Doctor Simpson telling Lieutenant Miller that she could do nothing further here," Teyla said. "That is when they said they would relocate to a research lab on the East pier."

"Maybe she saw this mess and is trying to fix it?" Sheppard asked. "There's a large power distribution center over there."

Rodney shrugged, picking up his laptop and looking at the useless equipment. "I don't know. Maybe. There are a dozen different labs down there. Look, we should split up. We need find Simpson and Miller and I think we also need to find Zelenka. One of them must know something."

Sheppard nodded and turned to Teyla. "Can you and Ronon go after Miller and Simpson, while we take Zelenka? We have no way of communicating, but we'll meet in the mess hall at 2100 hours. It seems to take a lot longer to move around right now, better to give ourselves lots of time."

Teyla and Ronon nodded and were about to leave when Teyla turned back. "I have just remembered that Lieutenant Miller directed us away to stay away from the control room, and to stay to the inside corridors, especially at midnight. Does this mean anything to you?"

Rodney shook his head. "We'll just add it to the growing list of questions I plan on asking him as soon as I can."

"Hey," Sheppard called out, as Teyla and Ronon started down the corridor. "Do you guys need a potato, or something?"

Ronon took one out of his pocket. "No thanks. We ran into Doctor Brown on the way here." He also pulled out a carrot from his other pocket and started munching.

1625 hrs

"I should have taken a carrot. What was I thinking? I'm hungry, thirsty, and tired," Rodney complained. They were in corridor JO5. If they continued down this hallway, they would eventually reach junction J3, where they could access a stairwell that would take them to the main level. From there they could cross over to Bravo section and find a stairwell to the third level, where the environmental controls were housed. Rodney had almost forgotten how convenient it was having the transporters. He figured it would take them another two hours to reach it, assuming of course that they didn't get lost, or distracted.

"You're always hungry, tired, and thirsty," Sheppard pointed out. They hadn't run into anyone else since leaving Teyla and Ronon.

"It's not like I had time for a snack between coming back from the Wraith and activating the ZPM. I think it's fair to say it's been a long day."

Sheppard just nodded, and that's when Rodney remembered Elizabeth and their trip to the Replicator planet. It seemed like it had all happened weeks ago, but the pain of losing her suddenly flared up again. The weight of everything bore down on him and he had to stop, sitting down on one of the couches the Ancients had so conveniently left scattered around.

Sheppard sat down next to him. Rodney could tell he was feeling the same thing.

"I haven't even thought about her since this started. What's wrong with me?" Rodney asked.

Sheppard put a hand on Rodney's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I think it's too much for us right now. One problem at a time, Rodney. We'll get her back after we sort this out. I'm not giving up."

Rodney rubbed his face in his hands until Sheppard got up, grabbed his arm and forced him up off his seat. "Come on, I've got an idea."

Rodney let himself be led a few feet, feeling the warmth of Sheppard's hand on his arm and how it traveled up through his body. The pain of losing Elizabeth receded, went into a corner of his mind he could close off if he thought hard enough about other things. As though helping him along, his brain supplied other ideas; ones he'd accepted as impossible a long time ago. But he couldn't deny the fact that Sheppard was acting friendlier than normal.

As Sheppard dragged him along not only did the grief and guilt he felt over Elizabeth lessen, but so did the urgency of their current mission. Rodney tried to remind himself that they had to find Zelenka—that something weird was going on: they were floating in nothingness and that could only be a bad thing. But all he could focus on was the fact that Sheppard was touching him.

"Let's go in," Sheppard said, starting forward. They were, Rodney saw, directly in front of someone's personal quarters.

"But this is someone's room—" he protested. He rubbed the place where Sheppard's hand had been. It felt much colder now.

Sheppard didn't seem to notice. "I know. And their bathroom will have drinkable water, and if we're lucky, they might even have a snack or two."

Rodney's priorities shifted. He put his computer down and helped Sheppard open the door.

They stepped inside to the light of Sheppard's potato, which Rodney could have sworn was getting smaller. The room wasn't very big. There were books everywhere, mostly anthropology, but there was one called Neuro-Linguistic Programming propping up the screen of a laptop hooked up to a docking station. Clothes littered the room: some blue shirts, khaki pants, some folded over the back of a chair and some on the floor in what appeared to be a laundry pile. Everything smelled vaguely of lavender.

Checking his computer, Rodney discovered the room belonged to a Doctor Susan Greene, but that didn't help at all.

"What is it with you scientists—how do work in all this mess?" was Sheppard's light-hearted comment.

Rodney almost tripped over a pair of running shoes. "I'll have you know there's a perfectly logical order to where I put my things; it's just that I have a lot of stuff and I can't always organize it as I would like. Plus, you know—everything moves toward entropy, no use fighting it."

Sheppard picked up an IKEA catalogue lying haphazardly on a table, atop some papers ringed with coffee stains. "Don't give me that. Changing the location of a large object does not change its physical thermodynamic entropy. You guys are just packrats. Really, tell me how useful this is in the Pegasus Galaxy."
The words thermodynamic entropy coming out of Sheppard's mouth pretty much derailed any comeback Rodney might have launched. "Oh my God. You are a geek. I bet you know what Boltzmann's equation is, don't you?"

"Rodney..." Sheppard said, tilting his head to the side in embarrassment.

"You do! I can't believe it. And you always pretend not to know what I'm talking about."

"Most of the time, I really don't. You tend to go off on tangents—"

Rodney smiled. "Ha, you did it again. Tangents. You know, you're pretty hot when you talk science..." He choked on the rest of his sentence. "Well, you know, hot in a perfectly platonic, guy that's friends with another guy who happens to be in the military sort of way..."

He trailed off into an awkward silence which made him shrink even further into his shoes.

"Relax Rodney," Sheppard said, not unkindly. "I get it."

Rodney sighed. "Right. Didn't we come in here to get something? Water. Right. And food. Do you really think she's got any food in here? What I wouldn't give for a Mars Bar."

"A what?"

Rodney shook his head. "Never mind. I'll take the bathroom. I need a drink."

Rodney escaped to the small bathroom at the other end of the room. He'd almost forgotten about the potato in his pocket; now he used it to maneuver in the small space, getting himself to the tap and filling a glass he found sitting on the counter. The water was lukewarm, even after running the tap a few minutes. He drank down several glasses regardless.

When he was done, he looked around to see if there was anything of use. Amid the mess of bottles—face cream, hand cream, under-eyelid cream, body cream—his eyes settled on a strange metal contraption he'd never seen before.

"Here, Rodney," Sheppard called out. Rodney went back into the main room, still turning the thing over in his hands. He looked up in time to catch the Power Bar Sheppard threw in his direction.

"Thanks," Rodney said, eagerly unwrapping it and taking a bite. The bar was slightly stale but Rodney didn't mind. That just made it crunchy. He tossed the metal thing he was carrying at Sheppard. "You know women. Any idea what this is?"

Sheppard looked it over while eating his own Power Bar. "It's an eyelash curler."

"Really? How do you know that?"

Sheppard sat down on the bed and put his feet up. "My ex-wife."

Rodney leaned against the desk, knocking over some journals and a few DVDs. "I've known you for four years, and I'm only finding out you were married now?"

Sheppard shrugged and looked away. "Does it matter?"

"It's one of those big lifetime events. I thought we were friends."

"We are. I was married for six months, and then we got a divorce. I've been deployed overseas longer than that. Do you want me to run down all my previous postings for you, as well?"

"I don't know. Did you get married during any of them?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes and shifted around on the bed, trying to get comfortable.

"So what happened?" Rodney couldn't help but ask; it wasn't often Sheppard opened up about his past. But it seemed that the moment had already passed.

"These beds aren't comfortable at all. How's that prescription mattress of yours?" Sheppard asked. He continued rustling around the bed and a moment later he was bouncing slightly on it. "What's the sex like on these, anyway?"

Rodney slipped off the desk, and had to scramble so he didn't end up on the floor. "Excuse me?"

"You and Katie Brown. You've been together for what, a year now? You've had sex, haven't you?" Sheppard said, turning to the side so his feet could dangle off the edge. He bounced again.

"Sure. Of course," Rodney tried to find his footing but stepped on a plastic plate from the mess hall instead. His mind was racing. He wasn't about to tell Sheppard that the few times they'd done it had been less than stellar memories. The single beds in the city were hardly made for one, let alone two people. He changed the subject. Two could play that game. "Oh come on. You're telling me you haven't had sex here?"

"In these beds?" Sheppard asked, pointing to the obvious size issues. "I can't even fit lengthwise."

Rodney rubbed his face. "On, I get it. You've had it elsewhere. Maybe in a storage closet or something? On the flight deck of a jumper?"

"Not exactly," Sheppard said, suddenly looking embarrassed. "The thing with Chaya wasn't exactly conventional and Teer—well, that wasn't here on Atlantis. My question was about these beds, specifically. The Ancients must have been short."

"If only Doctor Greene were here. I'm sure she'd love your analysis. Not that I've been keeping up with all of that group's work, but I do occasionally read a summary report. I don't remember anything about the Ancients being shorter. The scientists," Rodney mimed a double quote in the air, "think that the Ancients liked to keep things separate, though. Especially as they got further along in their evolution. Beds in their quarters were just for sleeping. Sex was just for procreating, but judging by the fact that there weren't that many of them, I don't think they got around to it too often."

"Doesn't sound too evolved to me," Sheppard said, jokingly.

Rodney sat down on the bed next to him, since his legs found the whole conversation too surreal to support him much longer. He suddenly wanted to clarify his relationship with Katie a little. "Just so you know...Katie and I—well, we're not really together. The beds are too small, you're right, and she's not the kind of girl you can take up against the wall, if you know what I mean. She likes ...romance, and candles and flowers...and I'm not really good at those sorts of things. In fact, I pretty much suck at them."

Sheppard turned his head to look at him, and Rodney shivered. The tension between them was back; it was thick in the air and for a second, looking into Sheppard's eyes, Rodney thought that yes, maybe Sheppard actually felt the same way about him.

The silence stretched, and Sheppard's gaze didn't waver, and Rodney felt himself leaning forward, wanting to find out once and for all if this damn thing was only in his head.

Sheppard's lips parted and that was all Rodney needed. He was so close he could feel John breathing, warm and slow, when a shadow passed through the room.

The cold that followed was instantaneous.

Sheppard was off the bed almost as quickly, with Rodney close behind. They turned, chasing a shadow that seemed to be just outside their field of vision, leaving a trail of bitter cold as it went. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone, draining the two potato-lights in the room until the two of them stood side by side, in utter blackness again.

1736 hrs

"I think you should take back all those mean things you said about our packrat tendencies," Rodney said, adjusting the headlamp he'd found in Doctor Greene's underwear drawer.

Sheppard used his flashlight to light up the hall. They'd also found a set of double-A batteries in Doctor Greene's underwear drawer, but that was something Rodney didn't want to think about.

"You look like a geek with that thing on your head," Sheppard said with a smirk. They moved down the hall.

Neither of them brought up the kiss that had almost happened back there, though Sheppard seemed skittish. He alternated between walking really close to sprinting up ahead.
Rodney cursed himself for risking their friendship He lost sight of Sheppard and only noticed the huge potted plant half-hidden in shadows when he walked into it. He sputtered and thrashed at the foliage in his face.

"You okay?" Sheppard asked, coming back around the curve he'd disappeared from. He put his hand up to his eyes to block the headlamp's light when Rodney turned to look at him.

"Yeah, fine." Rodney said, untangling himself. "Did you notice it's getting colder in here?"

Sheppard nodded. "I guess. I thought it was just me."

"You know, I just thought of something..." Rodney said; though the idea turning over in his head made him feel even colder.

"What?"

"Zelenka was heading over to Environmental Controls. What if the cold flashes and the lower temperature are because of something he's doing?"

Sheppard leaned against a fish tank. "What do you think he's doing?"

Rodney shook his head. "I don't know, but remember how I said the power conduits into the sensor room been purposefully cut?"

Sheppard nodded.

"Well, the way they were done is a trick Zelenka uses all the time when he's in a hurry to short circuit a panel. It's effective, but a pain in the ass to fix later."

"You think Zelenka is sabotaging the city?"

Rodney gave him a painful smile. "I don't know, but I think we should get to B3 as soon as possible."

1845 hrs

The third floor of Bravo tower held the primary environmental controls for the entire city: air purification and oxygen concentration controls, temperature and humidity controls, carbon dioxide scrubbers, monitors for the artificial gravity, and links to the waste management systems to account for any problems in the recycling rate.

Rodney breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the faint glow from the control crystals responsible for the main circuits.

"Does that mean everything's still working?" Sheppard asked, shining his light over the rows upon rows of control panels.

Rodney went to the main consol and plugged his laptop in. His computer had two bars left to the battery charge. "I don't know about everything, but part of me was worried that this would all be just as dead as the other systems we've seen." He flicked a switch and waited for his laptop to pick up the readings. When it finally connected, he said, "Crap."

"What?" Sheppard came to read over his shoulder.

Rodney tried to ignore that and concentrate on the readings that made no sense. "Zelenka did reduce the temperature of the city to eighteen degrees Celsius—sixty-four for you. It's still within a comfortable range, though a bit on the cold side. The really strange thing though, is that he reduced the temperature in the lower gymnasium to freezing."

"Why would he do that?"

"Sadly, I didn't get to keep my mind-reading abilities, and he didn't leave a note."

"Well, can you fix it?"

Rodney hit a few buttons, but the computer only gave him an annoying little beep. "He's locked me out." He tried again. The computer beeped a second time.

Rodney tried to interface directly with the temperature control console. It locked him out as well.

"Can't you override it? I thought you were a genius," Sheppard said, following him around as he went from control panel to control panel, trying to find one that would give him access.

Rodney glared at him. "I am a genius, and I can override it, I just need time. My computer only has a little bit of power left, and if I use it all to crack his code, I'll have nothing left to make any actual changes. Happy?"

"Not really," Sheppard said, sitting down in a chair that had been shoved aside.

Rodney sighed and did the same. "It looks like all the systems are being run with only minimal power from the main control panel. They're in a holding pattern, maintaining the temperature and atmosphere—wait. The controlling program is set to run until eleven fifty-nine tonight. Then it's set to over-pressurize the city and change the oxygen level to almost one hundred percent."

"That's less than six hours from now."

"I know."

"Can you stop it?"

Rodney threw his laptop down in a fit of helplessness. "The only thing I can do is shut the power down altogether, but there's no guarantee I'll be able to turn in back on. If that happens, we'll suffocate or freeze to death."

Whatever Zelenka was up to, he'd essentially tied their hands. Unable to give up completely, Rodney retrieved his computer and was powering down to save what energy he could, when he heard a quiet groan.

It was coming from one aisle over. They immediately ran toward the sound.

"Peterson!" Rodney dropped to his knees by the man's limp body.

Sheppard checked for a pulse and did a quick pat-down for blood or other gross injuries.

All Rodney could see was that Peterson's face and hands were red and covered with blisters. Peterson groaned again and his eyes flickered open.

"What happened?" Rodney asked.

Peterson tried to look around. "Zelenka? He got away?"

Sheppard helped him sit up. "Did Zelenka do this to you?"

"Do you know what he was up to?" Rodney asked at the same time.

Peterson closed his eyes again. "He's going to the ZPM. We haven't got much time." The effort to speak cost him too much. He passed out again.

Sheppard hoisted Peterson up onto his shoulders and stood with a grunt. "We should get him to the infirmary."

Rodney raced back to check his laptop for the most efficient route. "It's on the other end of the city."

With a sigh, Sheppard shuffled over to the door, shifting Peterson's weight more evenly across his shoulders. "Of course it is."

1917 hrs

"After we drop Peterson off, we should swing by the mess and see what Teyla and Ronon found out," Sheppard huffed. He put Peterson down on one of the couches. "It'll be close to nine o'clock by then."

Rodney consulted the map. "Sure. It's sort of on the way, we just have to go down three flights of stairs and we can take the connecting corridor to Alpha wing."

"That's on the way?" Sheppard asked, still out of breath.

Rodney shrugged. "The infirmary is on the other side of the city. Everything's sort of on the way. And maybe at some point we could also schedule in a trip to the ZPM room, since it appears that's where Zelenka's heading."

Sheppard was about to pick Peterson up again, when he looked over at Rodney. "I don't suppose you want to carry him for a bit?"

The idea of even trying seemed ludicrous. Before Rodney could think of a way to describe how much he didn't want to, he had a better idea. Holding up a finger that meant "Wait," he got his bearings and then walked back down the corridor in the direction they'd come from. There, three doors down, he found the lab he was looking for.

He came back a few minutes later pushing a trolley with one shaky wheel.

"You only thought of that now?"

Rodney gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"Remind me to volunteer you sooner, next time." Sheppard said, laying Peterson down on the cart. It wasn't long enough, so they had to curl him up on his side in a fetal position. Sheppard paused to check his heartbeat and breathing and then started pushing the cart down the hall.

1953 hrs

The shaky wheel on the cart rattled relentlessly, and every few minutes they had to pause as Peterson slid from one side to the other.

"Whose stupid idea was this anyway?" Sheppard asked, grumpily.

Rodney got in front of the cart just in time to push aside a plant before it got hit. "Hey, this isn't my idea of fun either."

They traveled in silence a while longer until suddenly, Sheppard stopped the cart and cocked his head to the side. "Did you hear that?"

Rodney looked around. "What? Is the shadow thing back? I don't see anything."

Something stepped from the shadows, nearly sending Rodney into a fit.

Ronon looked at them with a calm smile.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" Rodney wailed, bracing his chest with his hand. "Where'd you come from?"

Ronon gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Over there," he said, pointing to the direction they'd just come from.

"We didn't see you. Where's your light?" Rodney asked.

"Didn't need one. You guys have enough to light up the city."

Sheppard looked less surprised by Ronon's ability to sneak around undetected. Instead, he spread out his arms, encompassing the space around Ronon, and gestured. "So, where's Teyla?"

Ronon shrugged. "She's with Simpson. The two of them got this thing from one of the labs and they're taking it to the Jumper Bay."

"Thing?" Rodney asked.

Ronon held out his arms to indicate something a meter long. "I don't know. About this big. Cylinder. Hums. They said they needed it to escape."

Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Wait. You said the two of them. What happened to Miller?" Sheppard asked.

"He's having a nap."

"A nap?"

Ronon paused a moment as if trying to remember, then nodded. "He said he was tired."

"Right," Sheppard said, cocking his head to the side. "Of course he was. And you? Why aren't you with Teyla and Simpson?"

Ronon patted his stomach. "I'm going over to the mess for some food. Want to come?"

Everything they still had to do swam in Rodney's head: take Peterson to the infirmary, track down Zelenka in the ZPM room, find out what the hell was happening at midnight and why they had to stay away from the control room; and, adding to the list, maybe find out what Teyla and Simpson were running from. Still the idea of going down to the mess with Ronon was tempting.

Just in case Rodney wasn't having enough trouble concentrating on the mission, his stomach grumbled loudly.

"No thanks," Sheppard responded quickly.

"You know, it's not a bad idea. Grab some food, relax a bit. I think better on a full stomach too—" Rodney started babbling, but Sheppard took him by the shoulders and turned him around so that he was facing the direction they had been traveling in.

"Sorry, Ronon. You're on your own. We've got people to see, things to do." For emphasis, Sheppard put Rodney's arms on the cart and started pushing them both down the hall.

Ronon didn't seem bothered. He started walking down the hall and disappeared into the shadows. "Okay, suit yourself."

2045 hrs

Rodney relaxed when he saw the infirmary doors already partially open, and a glow of light spilling from within.

"Hello?" He called out. The cart wouldn't fit through the gap, so Sheppard hoisted Peterson back on his shoulders and went in with Rodney close on his heels.

"Hello?" Keller answered.

The rhythmic pumping of a ventilator echoed in the room. Rodney looked around, his eyes stinging in the brightness. There were three flood-lights running off a generator humming along in the corner.

The infirmary was almost full, the dozen or so beds all occupied and a few people were even on stretchers and cots set up around the perimeter of the room. But the room was void of any human sound. The hair on Rodney's neck stood up. Everyone seemed to be asleep. "What the hell is going on?" Rodney asked.

Keller rushed over, her hair falling out of its ponytail. "I'm so glad to see you both. You're all okay, right? Everyone else is okay?"

When Rodney nodded, she asked urgently, "Why have we lost power? Why can't I get hold of anyone? What's going on?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Sheppard said, laying Peterson down on an empty cot. "We found him in the Environmental Controls room. It looks like he's been badly burned."

Keller shot them both a look before bending down to examine Peterson, unwinding the stethoscope from around her neck. She checked his pulse and his lungs and looked at the surface of his face and hands before standing back up. "It looks like he has the same injuries that Sergeant Hansen came in with earlier. Severe burns and his heartbeat is weak and irregular. All I can do is keep an eye on him for now. I have hardly any power here and someone is already on the ventilator."

Sheppard followed her up. "He's a strong kid. He lasted the whole ride here. Do what you can, Doc."

Rodney continued his quiet exploration, walking around until he came to Hansen's bed. Aside from the obvious blisters and burns on Hansen's face, he looked like he was sleeping peacefully. "Any idea what caused these injuries?"

Keller went over to the cabinet where she kept all her drugs. "It looks like he received a massive electrical burn. I managed to hook the scanner up long enough to have a look before it blew my other generator—he has some pretty deep tissue burns. I was hoping one of you would know what's going on and how to fix it."

"We're working on it," he said, not paying much attention to the grim look on Keller's face.

"But—if you guys can't...who can?"

Sheppard patted her reassuringly on the arm while Rodney searched Hansen's belongings for any clue to what had happened. Aside from the potatoes, there was just the standard issued kit; his tac vest, a knife, some paracord, a canteen, flashlight, and notepad—which of course, contained nothing useful whatsoever. Rodney pocketed the potatoes, knife, rope, and flashlight and then picked up the canteen. His stomach growled again, reminding him that all he'd eaten in the last ten hours was a stale Power Bar. "Doctor Keller, were do you keep your emergency rations—"

Rodney turned around in time to see her approaching Sheppard, something gleaming in her hands. Before he understood what was happening she'd put the needle into Sheppard's arm; her movements exact and swift.

"John—" Rodney shouted too late. Sheppard tried to fight; managed to knock her away, but only after she'd done the injection and stood there looking horror-stricken.

"Ow—" Sheppard rubbed his arm and tried to speak, but didn't get very far. For a few seconds, it looked like he was okay, but when he tried to take a step, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell.

Rodney managed to catch him just before he cracked his head on the side of the bed.

"What did you do!" he shouted at Keller, his arms around Sheppard's middle. He may have been skinny, but he was still heavy and awkward, and the panic bubbling in Rodney's chest didn't make him any stronger.

Keller still looked wide-eyed and stunned, but that didn't stop her from approaching Rodney with another needle. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Rodney. But it's all I can do. We've been hours without any power. Nothing works, I can't do my job—I can't help any of them. And they were screaming—Hansen too. He was screaming so much. So I helped them sleep. I can keep everyone under until we regain power, I have enough drugs. I just have to be careful not to make the anesthesia too strong. But I can do it. And when the power comes back on, I'll be able to help people again. Don't you understand?"

Rodney let Sheppard drop to the floor so he could scramble away, toppling over an IV stand and a chair, trying to block her path. Neither stopped her for very long.

"What did you give him?" Rodney demanded, eyes flicking momentarily to Sheppard's unconscious form.

Keller gave him a faint smile. "A Propofol-cocktail. Don't worry, you're not allergic to it, I checked. You'll wake up happy and rested. Doesn't that sound good?"

"Um...no. Not really." Rodney made a break for the door but Keller tackled him from behind and tried to pin him to the wall.

He squirmed away. She was surprisingly strong, but Rodney had the advantage of height and weight. They struggled, with Rodney holding her hand away from him, until she tried to bite him. Then he jerked his arm down, forcing hers down as well, so that she stabbed herself with the needle, injecting herself with some of the drug in the process.

Rodney let her slide to the floor. He wrestled Sheppard onto his shoulders, panting heavily and left the infirmary without waiting around to see if it was enough to knock her unconscious.

2130 hrs

The shaky wheel rattled through the halls. Sheppard was laying half on, half off the cart, his arms secured by the paracord Rodney had acquired.

Rodney cursed Keller's and Zelenka's and Ronon's and Simpson's names out loud as he maneuvered the cart while trying to check his laptop for a route that would allow him to stay on this level for the maximum amount of time. The only good news he'd had this whole evening was that this was one of the main connecting levels and so aside from having to detour around some sections where the Ancients has seen fit to install three stairs down followed by three stairs back up a few meters later, he was able to keep using the cart for another ten minutes.

Sheppard started singing what sounded an awful lot like Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.

When they reached the atrium, Rodney wheeled the cart off to the side because this was as far as they could go and he was exhausted. A stairwell loomed off to the side, mocking him, but as Sheppard was working up what sounded like a crescendo, Rodney doubted that he was in any condition to continue on foot.

Rodney tied his headlamp to the cart and then plopped down on a nearby couch and looked up at the starless sky visible through the ceiling. "We're going to die here, wherever here is. And people are going to find us a thousand years from now, lying in this damn atrium, you tied to a cart and me with a bunch of potatoes in my pocket. What the hell are they going to think?"

"Swing low, sweet chariot, comin' for to carry me hoooooome," was Sheppard's response. When he'd finished singing, Rodney listened to his even breathing and thought maybe he'd drifted off to sleep again. He'd been in and out of consciousness for the past half-hour.

After a few minutes, Sheppard stirred and tried to move his hands, so Rodney got back up, got out the knife and cut his arms loose. "What happened?" Sheppard finally managed to ask as he forced his eyes open.

Rodney knew if he let go of the bubbling, hysterical laughter that was building up inside him, it would be hours before he stopped. "Well, let's see. First there was a big boom. Then everything went dark and we spent ten hours trying to find out why. Then there was Keller. In the Infirmary. With a needle."

"Sounds like a bad game of Clue," Sheppard mumbled. He tried to roll over and almost fell off the cart. Rodney grabbed his shoulders just as the cart started to roll out from under him and helped him get to his feet. Unfortunately, as soon as Sheppard's feet touched the floor, he almost passed out again.

Supporting all his weight, Rodney half-carried, half-dragged him over to the couch and helped him lie down. He remembered belatedly that he probably should have kept Sheppard's feet elevated in the first place, instead of trying to make him stand.

Rodney sat down on the end of the couch and brought Sheppard's feet up onto his lap. "How do you not fall on your face more often?" he said mostly to himself, since Sheppard was drooling into the seat cushion. Toying with the laces of Sheppard's half-open boots, Rodney debated tying them up or removing them altogether.

Eventually Sheppard groaned. Rodney tried to help him along by shaking his legs.

"Stopdat," Sheppard said, swatting at Rodney's hands.

"Then wake up," Rodney replied, relieved. Sheppard seemed more coherent. "I really don't want to do this alone. Though possibly I'd get to the ZPM room faster without having to carry you along on a cart or convince you of the correct route every half hour, but I'm really not that keen on being by myself in the dark. Not that I'm scared, you know. It's just—what if Ronon decides to do us in? God knows it seems like everyone else has. I'd never see him coming."

Sheppard turned onto his side and tried to lift his head, eyeing the canteen on the side of the cart. With a sigh, Rodney got up, got the canteen and helped Sheppard get some water down his throat.

"Don't say I never do anything for you," Rodney said, having a seat again beside Sheppard, who was now sitting up.

"I still feel a little drunk," Sheppard said, rubbing his head.

"No kidding. So is this drunk in an 'I love everyone' way, or drunk in a 'I'm going to puke way?" Rodney asked, ready to vacate the couch if Sheppard looked like he was going to vomit. Friendship was friendship but smelling puke would just make him puke up as well. And his stomach was already empty enough, thank you very much.

Instead of answering, Sheppard leaned his head against Rodney's shoulder and burrowed into the couch.

"Of course," Rodney said with a sigh. Well, at least it wasn't puking. And maybe if they could rest for a few minutes—maybe ten—certainly no more than thirty—they'd be faster and more able to deal with whatever it was they had been trying to deal with before, the details of which currently escaped him.

Sheppard's warmth tricked him into closing his eyes. On some level, he knew it was wrong to take advantage of Sheppard's nearness in his compromised state, but if felt too nice not to. Rodney figured it couldn't really hurt. It's not like he was touching Sheppard, it was Sheppard doing all the touching; he just wasn't pushing him away. And they were only going to rest for a little while; it was likely Sheppard wouldn't remember anyway. After they'd saved the day, he and Sheppard could go back to their regular non-touching ways, as long as he could enjoy the feel of Sheppard sitting right next to him now.

That made him feel a little better, which is why he was completely unprepared when Sheppard lifted his head and kissed him.

The kiss was soft but definitely intentional, and it was the firm pressure that finally restarted Rodney's brain after it short-circuited.

Rodney opened his eyes, ready for anything except the sight of Sheppard looking right back at him. Sheppard—John, Rodney corrected himself because he suddenly refused to keep referring to him as Sheppard, at least in his own head, finally broke the kiss.

Rodney tried to look away, tried to find something to say that would make any sense, but consonants wouldn't form in his mouth.

"Rodney, you okay?" Sheppard asked with a quirky smile on his lips. He was sober, which freaked Rodney out even more.

"Uh huh," Rodney nodded, in case his mumblings weren't understandable. He was good. He was fine. It was just his world that was imploding.

"Cause you're mouth is moving, but nothing's coming out."

"I'm...You..."

"It's okay. Breathe," Sheppard said, tracing his finger across Rodney's cheek, destroying him all over again and reminding him that he hadn't shaved in over a day. For some reason Sheppard, seemed to like his stubble. He kept running his fingers over it.

"Why did you do that?" Rodney finally managed to snag one of the thoughts running through his mind and direct it out his mouth. "Is it because of what Keller gave you?"

Sheppard shook his head. "I've wanted to kiss you for a while now, I just couldn't. I still shouldn't, but I suppose I can blame Keller's drugs if someone finds out."

The statement hung in the air, and even if Rodney hadn't understood the meaning, the questioning look on Sheppard's face made it abundantly clear.

Rodney shook his head. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to tell anyone."

Sheppard's lips twisted into a crooked smile. "Are you sure? 'Cause sometimes you like to talk..."

"I am capable of keeping a secret, you know. I've worked for the US Air Force for almost fifteen years. A—I know how to keep a secret, B—I know how things work in the military and C—Why in God's name would I try and screw this up?"

"So it was okay, then?" Sheppard asked quietly, running his lips across Rodney's jaw-line.

Rodney nodded and mumbled "Uh huh," again and brought Sheppard's mouth back to his own before whatever fates existed in the universe woke up and wondered what the hell was going on.

2155 hrs

John leaned forward to undo Rodney's fly and Rodney worked his hand into John's pants. Doing so required them both to lie on the couch, which wasn't much bigger than one of the Ancient beds, with John's body curled up towards Rodney in a twisted form of sixty-nine. John didn't seem to care, though, that they weren't coordinated or graceful or modest.

For Rodney's part, the only thing he could concentrate on was the amazing, wonderful, heady feeling filling his body that he never, ever, ever wanted to stop.

2157 hrs

John sucked Rodney's cock into his mouth and that's when Rodney's brain stopped functioning all together.

2212 hrs

Rodney lay immobile on the couch, staring up at the blank sky, and sighed happily. The batteries in his headlamp were dying; the light was down to a low, yellowish tinge that barely illuminated the cart. John was snoring lightly, resting his head in Rodney's lap. Their clothes were all over the place, Rodney's hand was a sticky mess, and yet he thought that this was perhaps the happiest he'd ever been in his life.

He combed the fingers of his clean hand through John's already wildly out-of-control hair, making it stick up in different directions, patted it down, and then started all over again.

John stirred, opening his eyes to look up at him, and Rodney smiled back. "Thank you," he said quietly.

John sat up and stretched. "For what? I think we both enjoyed that."

"Maybe," Rodney conceded. "But still, I'm not completely convinced you're not under the influence of something, and I'm just worried that when you really wake up you're going to hate me for letting you do that. I figured I should thank you before that happened—"

"I'm not going to hate you, Rodney. I promise. And I feel fine. Really. I have a bit of a headache, but I'm not drugged."

Rodney looked at him in the fading lamplight. "That remains to be seen. You know, I wonder if we're not all drugged...with everything that's happening..." Rodney let his sentence trail off as the meaning of the words sunk in. He sat up straighter and grabbed Sheppard's arm. "It would certainly explain a few things."

"Like?" John said, sitting up as well.

"Well, like everyone's behavior, for one. In the middle of an emergency, we found Ronon and Teyla taking time out for a sparring match? That was a little weird. And then Miller went for a nap while on duty and Keller tried to knock you out. Not to mention the fact that Zelenka may be trying to kill us...Oh God," Rodney wailed as he illuminated the dial face on his watch. "It's almost ten thirty. Whatever horrible thing Zelenka's planning is going to happen in an hour and a half, and we've been sitting here—oh no."

"Calm down, Rodney," John said. He got up and started to put his clothes back in order.

"No. No, I think that's exactly what the problem has been. We've been entirely too calm ever since this happened. You realize it's taken us ten hours and we still haven't gotten to the ZPM room? What are the chances Zelenka's even still there?"

John threw the canteen over to Rodney. "Clean up as best you can, and we'll go. If we hurry, we should be able to make it there on time."

2236 hrs

Rodney shone his light up the stairwell that would lead them up to the ZPM room. It went up further than his flashlight could illuminate.

John slapped him on the back. "Come on. We'll take it nice and slow."

With a nod, Rodney prepared to leave behind this miserable section of the city.

Just at that moment, the sound of several pounding feet echoed down the hall. John swung his flashlight in the direction of the noise, just as Rodney jumped out of the way.

They were then greeted by the sight of Stackhouse, Biro, Parrish and Ronon, running naked through the hall.

Ronon and Parrish gave them a wave as they passed; Biro shyly put a hand over her chest and giggled while Stackhouse yelled out a passing "Hi, Sir!"

John managed to grab Stackhouse's arm as he sprinted by, only because he was the last one and lagging behind. "Stackhouse, what the hell are you doing?"

"Polar Bear Club, sir." Stackhouse said, out of breath.

Rodney tried really hard not to glance at Stackhouse's body. Not because he was interested in Stackhouse, he wasn't in the least, but being completely butt-naked in the middle of Atlantis wasn't something that was easy to ignore. He compensated by injecting the appropriate amount of scorn into his voice. "We're in the middle of an emergency here, Sergeant, and you guys figured now was the time to start a Polar Bear Club?"

Stackhouse paled.

"Look, get your buddies, get reacquainted with your clothes and do something useful,' Sheppard said. "Tell Ronon to get his ass back to Teyla and Simpson and make sure they're okay, and I want you and Doctor Parrish to go find Keller, make sure she's okay, and restrain her. Under no circumstances is she to treat anyone else. You got it?"

Stackhouse nodded. With a salute, he ran in the direction of the others.

Rodney sighed and turned back to the stairs. "Once again, there's a frat party going on, and I wasn't invited."

2258 hrs

"We're almost there," Rodney panted as they forced the security door. This one had been harder to open than most of the others because it was the main controlled door in this section of the city. All they had to do was go up four flights of stairs now, and they were there.

Sheppard discarded his no-longer-functioning flashlight and took out one of the potatoes Rodney had given him.

"You know," Rodney continued, turning his theory over in his mind. "Maybe Zelenka's also responsible for all the power outages. If he was in the control room, he could have done it all. Turned off the lights, blocked the radios, cut power to all the non-essential systems."

He was talking mostly to cover the silence that had settled between them. They'd been traveling hard and fast this last hour and had kept to as few words as possible; but now Rodney couldn't help but think that maybe Sheppard's head had really started to clear, and that he was regretting everything.

Sheppard tossed him a look over his shoulder. "Why would Zelenka try to kill us?"

"Beats me. Maybe he's suddenly developed a plan to take over the city for his own evil purposes?"

Sheppard laughed as they started climbing the stairs. "Well then, I wonder what he's going to do with us. Keep us as slaves, or just kill us?"

"I'll go with the slaves. Radek's a bit of a pacifist but I think he'd go for some free labor. Have someone to fan him while he steals all my brilliant ideas and someone else to massage his feet..."

"I volunteer for the fanning. I'm not massaging anyone's feet but my own."

"What if he makes you wear nothing but a fig leaf?" Rodney said randomly, pulling out the life-sign detector to see if he could get any readings, but the screen was still completely blank.

"Then I won't fan too hard, because I'll be cold."

Rodney couldn't help laughing at the mental image. When they reached a platform between stairwells, he leaned on the railing in the light from Sheppard's potato.

Sheppard sat down on a step and rubbed his head. Silence settled between them again.

"If you want to use the 'drugged excuse', I'll understand." The words tumbled from Rodney's mouth before he could stop them.

Sheppard looked up at him, his eyebrows twisted in confusion. "What?"

Rodney fiddled with the life-sign detector, not really wanting to meet Sheppard's eyes. "You know, if you regret what happened. We can just go back to the way things were between us. I'd rather that then have you avoid me when this is all over."

Sheppard got back up again and moved towards Rodney, walked right into his personal space, taking the equipment out of his hands and placing it gently on the floor. "I don't regret what happened. I promise. I'm just tired, that's all. It feels like something's draining all my energy."

Rodney nodded, skeptically.

"You don't believe me?" John asked, obviously reading Rodney's face.

"Well, it seems a little odd for you of all people to suddenly want me."

"Odd for me? Why?"

Rodney looked at him disbelieving. "You're John Sheppard. You win the hearts of Ancient goddesses, princesses, leaders of villages, and heads of government. You can have anyone in this city, you're leader of the military here, why would you choose me?"

"Because you're a guy?" John asked.

Rodney nodded. "Among other things."

With a sigh, John settled a little closer, pinning Rodney lightly to the wall. "The reason my marriage only lasted six months? My ex-wife caught me kissing another guy."

John's proximity muddled Rodney's brain, but his mouth apparently still knew how to keep flapping. "Really?" he said, and winced.

John winced back. "Yeah. She didn't say anything, knowing it would ruin my career. She was nice and a lot more decent than I deserved. After that, I learned to be discreet or just not indulge at all. For some reason, these last few years, I've been busy enough that it didn't matter anyway."

"And now?" Rodney asked because he had to know.

John shrugged. "Maybe it was Keller's drugs, or whatever is doing this to us. But the thing you need to understand," John said, grabbing Rodney's arm before Rodney could twist away, "Is not that I'm doing something I don't want to do. It's something I would never have let myself do, before. There's a difference."

Rodney looked into John's eyes and they were clear and focused, especially as he leaned forward and kissed Rodney again, and this time the kiss felt like a warm, soft day. It was slow and leisurely, completely opposite to the first one they'd shared an hour ago with its uncertainty, or the ones that followed, full of need and desperation.

Rodney moaned and hit his head against the wall behind him. John leaned into him until their bodies were pressed completely together.

"I'll happily fuck you against the wall," John murmured into his ear. He rubbed his erection against Rodney's hip.

Rodney pressed back, suddenly desperate for one more chance to enjoy this insanity, because really, how much longer could it last—when the thought of the current time flashed in his head like a red warning sign even his libido couldn't ignore.

"J...John—" Rodney stuttered, trying to push him away, but not very hard.

John nibbled at his ear, and started grinding up against him, making all the blood rush to Rodney's dick. "I like it when you use my name," John whispered, and suddenly that was all Rodney wanted to do.

He wanted to stand there muttering John, John, John, John; wanted to say his name until John came in his pants from just hearing it, because Rodney was suddenly very sure that he would. From the look on John's face, Rodney could make him come without even touching him, and the thrill of the idea alone almost pushed Rodney to orgasm right there.

At that moment, just as Rodney was about to give in wholly to whatever John wanted, even if it damned them all to hell and back forever, a chill began to fill the room. The cold started against the wall, where Rodney felt it first, against his back and neck, and it slowly moved into the room from there, seeping into the air and chilling his lungs.

"John?" Rodney said. John moved away, staring wildly around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was around them.

John shook his head. "There's nothing here!" he shouted in frustration.

"I think we should go. Now!" Rodney said. John took one more look around and then went for the stairway at a run.

Rodney found a sudden reserve of energy that let him take the stairs, two at a time.

2323 hrs

John reached the ZPM room first, at the top level of the spire, with Rodney directly on his heels.

"This is a bit of déjà vu," John said, waving his potato around as they bounded down the auxiliary corridor, left and then right, through the dark halls.

"What do you mean?" Rodney asked, listening. He checked the map again. Of course he knew how to get there, but things always looked so much different in the dark.

John led him through another corridor in front of the last door that separated them from the ZPM. "I mean, Ronon and I did this just this morning, except it was on a different Atlantis, remember?"

A wave of memory came back to him. Rodney nodded. "Of course. With Elizabeth's help."

"Right," John said, putting the potato back in the strap he'd jimmy-rigged with some of the used paracord. He pressed up against the door and ducked down, letting Rodney get behind him to work on the doors from the top.

These opened more easily, making them fall forward as they gave way. A bright flashlight beam hit them as they stepped inside.

"Rodney! Colonel!" It was Zelenka. He flung down the flashlight and ran toward them, waving a screw driver.

While Rodney blinked the spots out of his eyes, John tackled Zelenka, disarmed him, and pushed him up against the wall. "Hurry, Rodney."

Rodney plugged his laptop into the console and got a charge warning. He clicked IGNORE and forced the interface with the control panel.

The laptop gave a shrill beep and turned off.

"Shit!"

"Can you tell me what's going on?" John shouted, over Zelenka's cries of protest.

"Barely. All I got is that there's a program set to run in thirty-three minutes. It turns off the ZPM."

"That'll turn off the shield as well," John said, renewing his grip around Zelenka's chest.

Rodney nodded. "I know."

"So turn it off."

Rodney threw his useless computer on the floor. "I can't! In case you misunderstood what the beep of doom meant, my laptop is dead."

"So open up that control panel and do it by hand," John said.

Zelenka still struggling, began shouting things at them. "No! You can't! Listen to me! We need to turn off the ZPM at precisely midnight!"

"That's going to lower the shield and expose the city to space!" Rodney shouted back.

"Look, don't talk to him," John said, forcing Zelenka further away. "Just pull whatever circuits you need to so that the program won't run."

Rodney picked up the screwdriver Zelenka had dropped and opened the access panel. Assessing the circuits that still had some power running to them, he began pulling out crystals.

"No!" Zelenka screamed. "You're going to kill us all."

A spark jumped across the control panel as Rodney bridged two components, creating a short and frying the entire thing. Several systems that had been glowing suddenly stopped, and Rodney slumped down on the floor. "There. I did it. I blew the switching circuit so that when the program tries to run, it won't be able to do anything because the control panel is fried."

John relaxed his grip and Zelenka fell to the floor, holding his head in his hands. "Hours of work, and you ruined it."

"Yeah well, sorry," Rodney said. "I guess you won't be able to kill us all today. Better luck next time."

Zelenka looked up at him with shock. "You're crazy, aren't you? The entity has messed with your minds. You're both just as crazy as Peterson was in the end. Why would I be trying to kill us?"

Rodney shrugged. "Why was Keller trying to put everyone to sleep? Why was Ronon running naked through the halls? I think something's been messing with all our minds."

Zelenka looked at his watch and then at the destroyed panel. "Rodney, do you even know what's out there?"

"No. Because someone," he said, pointedly, "tampered with the sensors. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Zelenka nodded. "Yes, yes. I did that. We couldn't afford to give the creature anything more to feed off of. The shield was bad enough. That's why I turned off the lights as well."

"Ah-a!" Rodney said. "I was right. And the radios?"

"No," Zelenka shook his head. "That's the interference from the creature. Those would have been useful to leave on."

John stood off to the side looking at them both with his arms crossed over his chest. "What creature are you talking about? There was nothing outside, not even stars."

"That's because we are inside it," said Zelenka. "This creature is similar to the one we found the first week in Atlantis, the Energy Creature that the Ancients were studying. Except this one is the size of a small solar system. It's so big, it managed to pull us right out of hyperspace."

Coldness began to permeate the room. Zelenka ran to the doors. "Hurry, we must close the doors. If the fog gets in, it can drain the ZPM before Simpson has a chance to launch the jumper. Hurry!"

Suddenly, it all made sense. All the batteries draining, the constant exhaustion, the chill that followed the fog. "I think he's right," Rodney said. Between the three of them they got the room sealed before more than a few tendrils of fog had penetrated.

Zelenka checked his watch. "We have fifteen minutes. At precisely midnight, Simpson is to launch a jumper with the containment device inside. Now our problem is ZPM must be disconnected for plan to work. The energy signature that is meant to attract the creature, is swamped by our shields and the ZPM."

"But that'll kill us all. Half the city is broken and will be directly exposed to vacuum. Including the control room," Rodney said.

Zelenka nodded. "That's why I asked Doctor Brown and anyone else I saw to keep people away from the outside corridors, especially the control room. Miller and Hansen were to get everyone out, then meet Simpson and help her with the jumper."

Rodney rubbed his face. "Well, I hope she's been practicing on her own, because Hansen's in the infirmary and Miller's having a nap. Teyla's with her though."

"Teyla has never flown a jumper," Zelenka replied, his face pale.

"No, but she's sat in the front seat enough to know what it's supposed to look like," John said. "We're going to have to trust them to do their jobs. Can't we just unplug the ZPM?"

"No." Rodney groaned, remembering what he'd seen in B3. "This program was set to over-pressurize the city, to provide some kind of protection before the shield goes down."

"The shield only needs to be down for a few seconds. Enough time for the creature to detect the energy signature of the containment device, which will be easily accessible in the back of the jumper. As soon as it tries to consume the energy, it will be sucked into the trap."

"And we can't manage that level of control by hand. It takes at least twenty seconds for the ZPM to disengage, and another half-minute to reengage after it comes up. A minute is too long. People inside the core of the city will have some protection, but there's a lot of damage. Not to mention that we left a lot of doors open in our trek today." Rodney eyed the burnt-out crystals in the control panel. "We have to fix the circuit so it can run the program."

John followed Rodney to the access panel and looked in. "I thought you said that trick was a pain in the ass to fix?"

2347 hrs

"Radek, pull open that panel from the other ZPM console, maybe we can find a replacement for this crystal there."

"Already on it," Zelenka shouted from across the room.

"Why don't you just put the ZPM in the other console?" John asked.

Rodney poked his head out from underneath the system he was working on. "Because then I'll turn off the shield and there will be no containment device to distract the creature. I imagine the shield is the only thing that's kept the creature from sucking us dry."

"Here's the crystal," Zelenka said, bringing it over and handing Rodney some spare wiring as well.

"Fine, fine," Rodney said, sliding back under the console. "Come here and hold this. We're going to have to bridge this section here with a temporary circuit so I can remove power from the damaged one and redirect it to the new crystal once it's in place."

Zelenka crawled down next to him and started stripping wire with his teeth.

"Anything I can do?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney spared him half a glance. "Yeah. Stop talking."

2353 hrs

"Rodney? We've only got seven minutes," Sheppard said.

"I know."

"Okay, just saying. Our lives are totally in your hands."

Rodney grabbed the makeshift bridge Zelenka had prepared. "Not helping!"

2356 hrs

The scrape of metal on metal stopped Rodney in the middle of rewiring the secondary switch. He poked his head out from underneath the console. There, standing in the middle of hexagonal room was Chuck. The gateroom technician.

He was wearing his t-shirt and a pair of boxers, and holding a fireman's axe.

"The hell?" Rodney said, mostly in disbelief. He couldn't be sure, with the way the lights cast shadows around the room, but there was the distinct possibility, that Chuck was wearing lipstick.

Sheppard waved Rodney back to work, and Rodney tried really hard not to listen to Chuck telling Sheppard that he'd always wanted to be a fireman.

2359 hrs

Rodney slid out from underneath the panel as Zelenka tried to power it up. The lights lit up; their patch job held. Chuck was gone, presumably to fight a fire or find a pair of pants.

Rodney brought up the Ancient screen and watched the pretty lights flow from left to right. He knew enough by now that he could sort of understand what they said, without the Ancient-to-English interface. The flow of lights indicated a general level of power distribution, which in this case showed that most of it was being used by the shields, with Environmental Controls taking a small percent. Everything else registered as close to zero, which made the flow less like a gradient and more like a solid line. The important thing, though, was the Ancient symbol in the upper right hand corner that told him Zelenka's program was uploaded and running, counting down the seconds left to midnight.

Zelenka had a smug look on his face. "It works."

"We'll see," Rodney said, not willing to get his hopes up just yet. There were still thirty seconds left.

Zelenka rolled his eyes, picked up something from the corner of the room, and passed it to Rodney.

Rodney looked down at the hockey stick in his hands and then back up at Zelenka with what he hoped was an appropriately disbelieving face. "Not you too, Radek. Not you too."

"That's for later. After you have sung my praises for saving the day, then I will wipe the rink with your ice skates. You and your NHL teams are nothing. I'll show you some real hockey."

Before Rodney could respond, a tendril of black smoke wound its way around his head. His entire body felt the chill. The clock on the screen said there was only a few seconds left...

A feeling of euphoria drifted over him. He sank to his knees.

"Rodney, quick. Give me your potato," said John's voice from a million miles away. Rodney settled onto the floor, his eyes open but blind. He thought of how sweet John's kisses had been, and really, as far as last thoughts went, maybe that one was pretty damn good.

0100 hrs

Rodney opened his eyes to an incredibly bright light shining directly into them. "Ow, ow, stop it. Bright light, I know. Follow the light. But why the hell does it have to be so bright?"

If this was the afterlife, Rodney thought morosely, there was a disappointing lack of angels. He was never trusting John Sheppard with anything again.

Someone laughed and the light moved away, and Rodney saw that he was in the infirmary. Doctor Biro patted him on the shoulder. At least she looked fully clothed now. "He's just fine," she said to someone he couldn't see because of the spots floating in his eyes. "He'll probably be happy and tired for the next few days but as far as after-effects go, I suppose these aren't so bad."

There was lots of noise in the infirmary now, and lights, lots of overhead lights. Rodney turned his head and saw John, Ronon and Teyla standing next to his bed.

"Hey buddy, you gave us a bit of a scare there," John said, with a smile. Teyla leaned forward and lay her hand against his shoulder. And though it warmed him, Rodney couldn't help but wish John would touch him as well. He suddenly seemed so far away with all the other people around.

His head hurt. "What happened? Did we get the creature?"

Ronon gave him a congratulatory punch in the arm that Rodney was pretty sure was going to leave a bruise. "You did it. Simpson and Teyla got the jumper flying remotely and you and Zelenka got the shield dropped in time."

"Yeah, but a piece of the fog got you at the end, knocked you out cold," John explained. He'd moved slightly closer, but there was still space between them.

"Many people were affected by the fog, or the proximity to the creature as a whole," Teyla said. "Doctor Biro and Colonel Carter believe that it was stealing our energy a little at a time, leaving us weakened."

"It made us happy," John explained. "You know, it takes fewer muscles to frown than it does to smile."

"Made me hungry," Ronon added.

Rodney nodded. "Figures. Like the Matrix, but with less PVC."

Teyla shot him a puzzled look.

"Ronon and I should go," Teyla said, when Rodney decided it was easier not to explain. "We stopped by to make sure you were well. Colonel Carter asked us to find people still affected throughout the city and bring them here."

"Yeah, we're actually off to do some real work," Ronon said with a smile.

"But—" Rodney said, to defend himself but they wandered off. "We did work. We almost saved Atlantis..."

John picked up a chair and moved it closer. "Sorta. Except for the part where we almost killed everyone, too. Good thing Zelenka had it all under control. Apparently it was all his plan."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "What I don't understand, though, is how he managed to keep a clear head through all this."

John raised an eyebrow and looked over at the hockey stick propped up against the wall.

"Okay, well a mostly clear head."

John laughed. "Well, we think it was the thought of finally beating you to something that drove him. He's the big hero, for once. Apparently, your ego can drive people to great lengths."

"Well, of course it can. I know how to motivate my team; help them be the best that they can be," Rodney said smugly, enjoying John's proximity.

"That's the old US Army slogan."

"Well, whatever works," Rodney said, and John casually slipped his hand under the covers until it found Rodney's.

Rodney let his worries slip away and enjoyed the moment, for once. They were alive and well for the moment. "It's kind of depressing, but even when it's making us happy the Pegasus Galaxy is still trying to kill us. It just figures."

John crinkled his eyes when he smiled. "If it makes you feel better, I promise things won't be always be happy between us. It's not going to be easy."

"So there's still an us?" Rodney asked, careful not to get his hopes up.

John squeezed his hand. "I'd like that. It's just...you'll have to be patient with me."

With a smile, Rodney settled into the bed. There were far too many people about to do anything crazy like kiss him, but he wished he could. "I could learn to do that."
After a few minutes, Rodney's stomach grumbled loudly, breaking the moment.

"I'm going to go find us some food," Sheppard said, getting up. "I heard the mess is in full swing since no one's eaten in twelve hours."

"Mmm. That's a wonderful idea," Rodney said in anticipation. "I can't wait. I want a big steak, with mashed potatoes and gravy—wait. Never mind. Let's hold off on the potatoes for a little while. Maybe some blue jello and chocolate pudding, though."

~fin

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