Fic : Offer Extends to the Pegasus Galaxy

[burntcopper.livejournal.com]

Title : Offer Extends to the Pegasus Galaxy
Author : Gunbunny
E-Mail : kabukivice@beeb.net
Fandom : SG:A
Pairing : McShep
Rating : No sex and no swearing. Am slipping. Well, aside from swearing at megolas for making me re-write it.
Summary : The gossip was a bit more focussed than he thought. 'This is not happening' challenge, sga_flashfic
Disclaimer : Not mine. There would be more nekkidness.
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol.
Archive : http://kabukivice.com/fic , anywhere else feel free.



Gossip is a mainstay of closed communities. Atlantis is more closed than most, given that they're stranded, emphasis on the word 'stranded', so far from home. Without any outside input, it naturally turns inward, and it's like a spectator sport, trying to figure out what the latest overheard snippet in the canteen is about. The first time Sheppard heard a reference to the new piece of gossip was a week after he formed his offworld team. He was just stopping by the infirmary to get some aspirin when he heard Ford in Carson's office.

"Well, are they or aren't they?" Ford asked. "You do their physicals, man."

Carson sounded a bit surprised. "Och, it's a private question, and besides, no, physicals do not tell you everything."

Ford mumbled "Had some docs you'd be convinced they did."

"Yes, well, most people are somewhat transparent." Carson answered. "Now, laddie, what was it you wanted? I'm sure it can't have just been gossip."

It never fails. Small communities get obsessed with gossip, and he's surprised it's taken this long to get started. He gets his aspirin and is out of there before Ford emerges.

It emerges that the gossip is a bit more focussed than he thought. Besides the 'well, are they or aren't they', the main line he overhears around corners in the corridors or over the radio is "I'd feel a lot more comfortable knowing." Which is odd for gossip, because normally people just want to know the juicy details and speculate. Not 'I'd feel more comfortable knowing.'

It's not just the Science department. It's the Marines. *Especially* the Marines. He keeps overhearing marines - and this includes Bates - quizzing Zelenka. Everyone's bugging Teyla and Ford. Teyla just keeps sounding vaguely amused in the 'Earthlings are odd' tone of voice she has. He's convinced half the reason she stays in Atlantis rather than on the mainland is the entertainment value.

He pauses outside the door to the latest ass-kicking session to hear her latest interrogation in the name of 'feeling comfortable'.

"I have no idea, and besides, I thought your culture believed such things are a private matter. I respect their privacy."

"Yeah, but..." They whine, then change tack. "Come on, you're off-world with them. They're sharing a tent at least, right?"

"As do I and Lieutenant Ford. It is more efficient. Yet I notice you do not ask about me and him." Okay, the eyebrow has definitely gone up by that tone.

"We wouldn't have to ask if it was you and the Lieutenant, he'd go around with a constant grin on his face. So. Not sure but they *are* sharing a tent. Well, it's a step in the right direction."

Sheppard blinks after that one, because that just narrowed it down a lot on his guesses over which couple this gossip is about. Him and McKay. Huh. Not sure why the city's obsessed with their sex lives, but hey, it's gossip and it's probably the closest thing they've got to tv in this place. Though he's a little peeved that they're not even thinking about him and anyone else. Just Rodney. Okay, so he spends a lot of his free time with Rodney, but *still*. Are there vibes?

About a week after he figures out who the focus of the gossip is - or at least that particular strand of gossip, which stood out from the rest by being scarily focussed - he's lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Rodney nudges him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

"I'm convinced there's something under that hair. Enlighten me. Unless it's American football, because I have limits."

John shrugs. "I discovered who the gossip was about."

"Gossip? There's gossip? I didn't notice any."

"There's *always* gossip, Rodney. Surprised you don't notice, the scientists are almost as bad as the nurses."

Rodney sniffs. "Yes, well, that sort of thing tends to be beneath me. I ignore it as it's a way for tiny minds to waste themselves."

"Well, might interest you to know that the main thread is about us."

Rodney blinks. "Us what? I mean, we are the most important members of the expedition, so obviously we'd be the focus." He's starting to sound smug, ego having been stroked.

"They want to know whether we're sleeping together."

"Well, obviously. What else is most gossip about?" He pauses. "What was the consensus?"

"There wasn't a consensus, that was what was odd about it. They just want to know one way or the other. Teyla, Aiden, Radek and Carson are getting bombarded with it." He pauses. "Mind you, Aiden's quizzing Carson and Radek nearly as much."

"Well, it's not my fault your military is obsessed with sex." He rolls over, putting one arm over John's stomach. "Now go to sleep, you're keeping me awake."

John gives an amused sigh, shifting a bit.. "And they say romance is dead."

Rodney snorts. "What romance? I jumped you off-world as soon as you were well enough to start going on missions again after you were bitten by that bug."

"True." John agrees and closes his eyes.

It being Pegasus, which means 'expect the unexpected, especially space vampires and military Amish', and even more, a Stargate mission, which means 'don't rule out time travel, getting married, getting turned into penguins and never underestimate how fast you can piss the natives off', there are ceremonies. Welcoming ceremonies. Fertility ceremonies. Intruding into sacred space and having to pay the forfeit ceremonies. Several of them seem to be expressly designed to get people to sleep with each other. Sheppard soon can't count how many times he's been naked, having sex or doing *something* with Ford and Teyla, never mind Rodney, and he's the one he chooses to sleep with outside freaky ceremonies.

You'd think the mission reports would be enough to silence the gossip. Since Elizabeth just tends to sigh, shake her head and say "I was warned about this, I can't say I wasn't prepared. I brought it on myself by agreeing to head this mission. Did you get the grain shipment?", you'd think they'd stop.

But no, it just seems to fuel the nay-sayers.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean -"

"It's close, c'mon -"

"Yeah, but not *exactly* -"

"I'm saying it shows some level of comfort. If it looks like a duck -"

"But it's still not confirmation, is it?"

There's a despondent sigh. "No."

After Chaya, which also involves a week of Rodney being alternately pissed off with him and possessive, the gossip takes a slightly new turn. This version he overhears in the armoury while he's taking stock of what they've got left. Rationing is an ugly thing, and god knows they brought what seemed like an endless supply of bullets at the beginning, but shooting at Wraith and hostile bat/bear things does nibble away at their supplies.

"Oh, like that means anything."

"Glowy sex. Actual glowy sex. Just saying."

"Doesn't count. How long have you been in the SGC? Goa'uld, Ancients and alien priestesses are automatic exemptions."

The gossip ends, or at least transfers to someone else after Ford comes across them in a clinch in the corridor post-nanites. Rodney was keeping up a constant stream of threats, such as "You are such an idiot, if you ever do anything that stupid again in your life I will hunt you down, you'll never comprehend the meaning of hot showers again" while he's kissing John.

Sheppard's just trying to brace himself against being steamrollered when he hears the amused humming. He freezes, opening his eyes to see Ford standing there grinning. And *still* humming. "Um, Ford, this -"

"It's okay, sir. I kinda guessed. Nice to get a confirmation." With that he ambles off down the corridor. Sheppard's pretty certain Ford broke the news to everyone else, considering he was as interested as everyone else in knowing. Well, except Teyla and Carson and Elizabeth. They were the only ones who seemed completely disinterested. He swears he even heard Kavanagh discussing it once, and he knows full well that Radek was keeping the official book on it. He wonders who got the pot and how much Radek made in black market goods.

Soon after that, hiding who you're sleeping with fell away. Most because the knowledge that they might never get home has become somehow more real and immediate, and here and now's more important than what a lot of suits in Washington think. That and space vampires and finding food, trade links and power sources being considered a bit more important than who you're sleeping with. The civilians had ignored it anyway.

When they re-establish contact with Earth, and the new shipment of people comes in on the Daedalus, Sheppard starts getting jumpy, what with everyone knowing about him and Rodney, not to mention the other couples. The sudden influx of new people and the eye of the SGC in the form of Caldwell is a bit unsettling.

Re-establishing contact with Earth, in the form of the Daedalus's proposed regular visits, is at first only thought of in terms of people getting to visit family, getting a break from the constant vigilance that living on the edge of a war zone requires. Some people are going to return, others are leaving for good. Surprisingly, it's quite a small percentage, but nearly all the people that came didn't have any solid ties back on Earth and are *still* the type that like living on that adrenaline high. Sheppard forcibly reminds himself that nearly all the soldiers, at least, spent time at the SGC. They'd have requested a transfer out long ago if they didn't like it, or had other places to be. He knows the SGC is offering a pass back to Earth full-time, no questions asked. Besides, what with the regular contact the Daedalus and its ilk offers, there's a high chance it'll become another outpost. Just a little farther away, than, say, Korea or Antarctica. You do your time, you survive, you come back.

It takes a couple of Daedalus visits to really register it as something other than a glorified combined postal service and greyhound bus. The noticeable percentage of new people starts to build up, and that's when some of the possible implications start to set in. Implications of the eye of the brass and the higher-ups at the SGC, not to mention soldiers used to Earth rules and codes. For the past year, Sheppard's been the highest authority they've got in terms of rank, and what rules they've had are almost completely survival related, though Bates tried to hold onto a lot of the discipline ones. Even he got overwhelmed by the forced give and take situation they're living in. The spectre of the Daedalus is also the spectre of authority looming on the distant horizon, and he's suddenly very aware of what Caldwell will be reporting back. He knows he's taking notes, but not entirely sure what on, and it's leaving Sheppard a little unsettled. Little things keep tripping him up, like the way the new people jump to attention when there's an officer in the vicinity, rather than just nodding as he passes. He doesn't think Caldwell's going to report him for minor discipline infringements, but he still doesn't know the man well enough. He's all too aware that Caldwell wouldn't mind his job in the slightest, and he's got the backing. John just inherited it in the field.

One event that particularly sticks in his mind is a meeting early on. Caldwell spent the entire meeting eyeing him and Rodney. Rodney was completely oblivious to the attention, talking about the new projects his team would be able to do with the extra ZPM. Sheppard spent it trying not to look concerned, and added the occasional drawled comment. After the meeting finished, Caldwell went into a closed session with Elizabeth to talk some things over, including messages from the SGC, while John and Rodney went to acquaint themselves with the new Farscape miniseries that was brought in on the last supply run. They've still yet to meet any actual aliens that don't look like humans. Women in leather that can kick your ass without breaking a sweat, weird tech, physics that're beyond belief, a willingness of the natives to foist drugs on them or just plain fleece or hold grudges, though? Check.

Once they settled down in front of the program, though, John spent most of the time bouncing a ball from hand to hand. Rodney kept snatching it off him, telling him to concentrate on the show. Then he'd retrieve it, stop for a while, fingers clenching in the material of the ball, then start again.

After time number seven, Rodney demands "What is wrong with you? You're making it impossible to concentrate, and I know for a fact you've waited ages for a resolution to Season Four."

John bites his lip. "It's us. What if he kicks me out? He can't kick you out, you're essential to the mission -"

Rodney rolls his eyes, removing the ball from his hands and tucking it on his side of the sofa. "You've got the most valuable gene, they just promoted you. I hardly think they're going to kick you out now. Besides, who else would volunteer for stupid suicide missions? Now shut up and watch the show."

Caldwell came out of that meeting looking satisfied. Sheppard can't tell if that's good or bad, but there's no sign of him being chucked back to Earth.

The gossip starts up again, or rather, rises from the sickbed it'd been wallowing in while Atlantis recovered from the siege. All the new people and news from Earth are like an injection of fresh blood into the gossip shark pool. However, Sheppard can't quite believe some of the gossip is getting repeated. Specifically, the gossip about him and Rodney, only this time with the Daedalus arrivals quizzing the Atlanteans. He really can't figure out the fascination with him and Rodney. It even includes Major Lorne, his new XO who appears to make it his life goal to make sure things run smoothly and competently.

Sheppard walked into the canteen one lunchtime in search of something that wasn't powerbars or MREs after a fruitless mission to find a semi-nomadic tribe, who appeared to have nomaded their asses and camels right out of there when the local oasis dried up. Two days of trudging around the desert really, really endeared even the worst of the canteen food to him. He's standing in the queue when his ears pick up that particular phrase common to the him-and-Rodney gossip.

"Look, I'd just feel more comfortable serving under him if I knew." Turning his head slightly, he can see Major Lorne at a table with a bunch of the new guys. Lorne was the speaker. And what's really annoying is the way all the others seated around that table are nodding fervently in answer.

This time around, overhearing the *exact same* questions about him and Rodney in the exact same tone they were said in before isn't mildly diverting, it's immensely irritating. Obviously, most of the old hands of Atlantis are finding the new game of 'taunt the new people' amusing, because they're leading them on or stonewalling them for the sake of it. He's pretty sure they're not doing it out of any sense loyalty, because the Marines and scientists doing most of the stonewalling are the ones he recognises as being some of the most desperate to know the first time around. At least, he doesn't think it's loyalty in the form of 'protect our own against the evil ravages of don't ask don't tell'. He never took all that much notice of it on Earth, and it's been made subtly clear to the new soldiers that Atlantis is turning a blind eye to it when it comes to the American soldiers. The multi-national soldiers, of which there are quite a few of now, tend to just roll their eyes at the repressed Americans. However, it does strike him as a little strange that the only ones asking are the SGC recruits. Scientists and American Marines and flyboys. Has to be an SGC thing.

Eventually Sheppard decides to drag Lorne to one side to get an explanation. He tracks him down to the infirmary, having remembered that when Lorne's team came through the gate yesterday, they were carrying a wounded Parrish. Lorne's sitting by Parrish's bedside in the infirmary, and Sheppard comes upon him trailing fingers down Parrish's cheek in a way that speaks volumes about their relationship. He coughs to get Lorne's attention. "A word, Major?"

Once they're away from Parrish's bedside, Sheppard goes into casual pose #3, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. "You and Parrish, huh?"

Lorne swallows, then straightens. "Yes, sir." There's still a very, very faint specter of this ruining his career if it gets back to certain ears. That was what caused the initial swallow.

Sheppard takes on a conciliatory tone. "It's alright, I'm the last one who can talk. Me and -"

Lorne interrupts him. "Yes, sir, I know. You and Dr. Mckay."

Sheppard folds his arms. "If you know, why were you so eager to find out? Checking to see if I'd be less likely to say anything?" He shakes his head. "It's as bad as the first few months here, all the gossip. What's the fascination?"

"Setting their minds at rest, sir."

"What, if they know one way or another they're fine, they just don't like not knowing? Huh. Guess being faced by space vampires, you like to know where your certainties lie."

"It's not that, sir."

Sheppard blinks. "It's not?"

Lorne coughs. "It's an SGC thing. Kind of a tradition - a good luck thing."

"The knowing which way your commanding officer swings is a tradition in the SGC? Gossip pool a big thing, I take it. Or is it more who they're screwing?"

"Not exactly, sir." Lorne pauses, looking the closest to embarrassed he's ever seen him. "It's more knowing whether you're screwing your scientist. Sir."

"*My* scientist?" Sheppard grins; "Oh, Mckay would love that. I can hear him now."

"He's on your team."

Sheppard rubs his temples. "Explain. In small words, so we never have to have this talk again. Ever."

It all started with SG-1, where a lot of the stranger stories, protocols and traditions seem to stem from in the annals of the SGC. He still can't believe some of their mission reports, even after a year in the Pegasus galaxy. Apparently O'Neill and Dr. Jackson were screwing from pretty early on, and everyone knew. Sometimes it was really hard to miss, even in front of the politicians who came to visit, but hey, team supreme, so everyone looked the other way.

Only then it emerged that if other off-world team line-ups got to be permanent, the team leader always ended up screwing the scientist. Ceremonies, cold nights, getting drunk, and in one case after crying on their shoulder after a bad divorce went through. It didn't matter what sex either was, it just kept happening. Sometimes casual, sometimes practically married. To the point where it was normal and expected, and now SGC veterans get jittery if it doesn't happen, marines and scientists alike.

When Sheppard queries whether the scientists know what they're letting themselves in for when they join a gate team, Lorne gives him the raised eyebrow. Sheppard shakes his head and wonders how he can sometimes be so dumb. Of course the on-base scientists at the SGC know, they're even worse gossips than the soldiers and the scientists here put together. It only took him two hours at the SGC to discover that, back in the days when they were preparing to go to Atlantis, after General O'Neill had managed to convince him to go. You wanted to know the latest rumours and updates, you asked a scientist. Being on a top secret project seems to make you absolutely voracious for any information, and it's even more pronounced in the ones who've been there for a while. And he knows scientists are very good at getting revenge if you force them to do something they don't want to, so they're obviously not being brow-beaten into it.

The upshot is that team leaders and scientists that don't gel in that way get split up because it's considered bad for morale. According to Lorne, it really is, because a military officer and a civilian scientist who aren't getting along tend to spend a lot of time arguing. Or refusing to speak to each other. The mood affects the rest of the team, which means they make mistakes and don't work well together. In some cases, it's ended in fatal or near-fatal consequences, mostly due to failure to communicate in some form or another, and you really don't want to tip the balance in favour of that when there's a good chance of coming across a snakehead. You'd think it could be settled by being just good friends, but no, the sex is apparently considered to be inevitable.

Sheppard tries to take this in. "So, did you start sleeping with Parrish just to make sure your team's morale was okay? Tactical decision."

Lorne shakes his head. "No, it just happened. That welcome barbecue on the mainland?"

Sheppard nods. That welcome barbecue should've been labelled the 'if you didn't get laid, you were quite possibly dead' barbecue. "Well, at least I know why Ford looked a lot happier once he knew. Go back to Parrish, will you?" Now he thinks about it, he's pretty sure all the scientists and leaders on Pegasus are paired up. Or at least very close, and everyone's giving the ones who aren't quite there yet considering looks and laying bets on when and where it'll happen. Sheppard shakes his head again and wanders off in the direction of the labs.

When he gets to the labs, he pauses, not entirely sure how to bring up this latest twist. Mind you, Rodney *was* at the SGC for a good while. He can't have ignored all the gossip. When the door slides open, he notes that it's not really busy. Simpson's looking immensely bored as she runs what looks like a simulation, Miko's telling off lab assistants who evidently did *something* stupid if the tone of voice she's using is anything to go by. Rodney's probably proud of his influence on his minions. Sheppard's sure he remembers a time Miko wouldn't say boo to a goose, let alone browbeat three people at once. Rodney's tapping away at his laptop and frowning, the guts of something that looks like a fusion between Ancient and Earth tech beside his laptop.

Sheppard walks over, peers at it, fails to even begin where to start in figuring out what its purpose is, then asks "Did you know?"

"About what?" Rodney asks, irritated, whilst waving a hand in Radek's direction.

Zelenka hands Rodney a screwdriver. "Colonel Sheppard wishes to know if you have heard of intergalactic dating service called SG team leader and civilian scientist."

"Of course I knew." Rodney harrumphs. "It's stupid and superstitious, but you can hardly miss it."

Sheppard leans back against the table. "Huh. How come no-one told me? You'd think General O'Neill would've included it in the 'Stargate Commanding Officer's Survival Manual' booklet he gave Sumner." Yes, it really did have that printed on the front. With added glossy pictures, what to do if the scientists won't leave the shiny toys, even if the place is about to collapse, and what to do if you get stuck in a time loop á la Groundhog Day. O'Neill advised taking days off in the quest to get yourself out of it and learn new things. An open Stargate is apparently ideal for practicing your backswing, and you'll never regret learning to juggle. However, avoid novelty cereals at all costs.

Rodney rolls his eyes. "Because he didn't have to, Sumner had been at the SGC for long enough to pick it up. New recruits - which means you - are expected to pick it up gradually. It's not like they put signs up at the welcome day."

Sheppard rubs his face and lets it sink in properly. He's faced other galaxies, space vampires and the thing the kitchen staff like to cook on Thursdays made out of those eggs from PX-447. The least odd bit about that dish being the blue colour of the egg yolks.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any weirder, along comes the SGC off-world team leader benefits package. 'Included with rank and headaches : sex with civilian scientist! Offer extends to Pegasus galaxy!'

When word comes down the SGC gossip grapevine a couple of months later that Dr Jackson and Lt. Colonel Mitchell are fucking - rumour is this particular gem is courtesy of Teal'c - he can't say he's surprised. The weirdness factor of the SGC dating scene has been trumped this month by the circulation of the pictures of SG-1 in leather trousers.

The ones of Colonel Mitchell are the most popular. They tend to be accompanied by comments of "See! See? I told you!" "Humans are superior!" and his personal favourite, "Are you sure those of you who worked in Area 51 never saw a little white funny-looking two-seater module?"

END

Comments

[cetpar.livejournal.com]

This was cute, and I didn't see the SGC good luck tradition coming. Thanks.

BTW, I added this story to my Lorne fic list (http://kheryn42.livejournal.com/2707.html).