New Fic written for mary_russell11. She wanted John/younger Rodney and all the implications of their relationship...as long as it ended in hot sex (basically). So, little one, here you are. I hope you enjoy it.

Title: Sweetheart Deal
Pairing: John/young!Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Words: ~ 15,000
Warnings/Spoilers: This is younger Rodney and John at his age in Atlantis, so AU for that, but the story takes place in Atlantis after the beginning of S4 so I'd say some vague spoilers for the first part of S4
Legal: I own nothing
Thanks: I had a lot of wonderful help with this fic - many thanks to the lovely perfica for her awesome help with science and technical questions, to gaffsie for being my guinea pig, and lastly to lavvyan for the beta, for shoring me up when I needed it, for her keen mind and for just generally being awesome. I couldn't have done this without her.
AN: Even though I had lots of help, I obsessively self-edited afterward so any and all remaining mistakes are down to me. Also, the title is a vague wave at Aimee Mann's song, The Moth; however, there is a blatant nod to the song in the fic and if you know it, I'm sure you'll be able to spot it. It's so cheesy to say a song inspired you, but that song did inspire the central theme of the fic, particularly the line, nothing fuels a good flirtation like need and anger and desperation.
Summary: For just a moment, John let himself remember how it felt to be young and cocky, full of himself and wanting something out of his reach.

Sweetheart Deal

The controls were like a pliant lover in his hands as John leaned with the turn and banked the jumper in a desperate effort to draw the fire away from the event horizon. Was it too much to ask these days for a mission to go off without a hitch?

Eyes glued to the gate ahead, his voice crackled in the air. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. We're coming in hot, clear the gateroom and stand by to raise the shield as soon as we're through, I repeat, stand by to raise the shield."

The wormhole held his breath. He exhaled as they hovered safely inside the gateroom, the event horizon dissolving into nothing seconds later. John's shoulders slumped into the seat back as he taxied the jumper to the bay.

Like an unwelcome tune, the familiar pounding returned to John's temples as he and his team descended the steps from the jumper bay.

"Well, Colonel, that certainly didn't take long." Colonel Samantha Carter stood outside her office door.

"Wraith," John spat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kinda put a damper on things."

Carter nodded.

He waved Teyla, Ronon and Dr. Robson on ahead and stepped over to join Carter. "Can I have a word, Colonel?" he asked, following her inside.

She looked at him expectantly. "Is everyone okay, John?"

"Yeah," he said absently. "We managed to make it back to the jumper and almost back to the gate before detection." Scrubbing the back of his neck, he paced in front of Carter. "I need a new scientist, someone I can depend on," he blurted out, deciding to forego the pleasantries.

"I thought Dr. Robson was working out fine," she offered.

John shook his head. "She's too slow, and besides, she doesn't seem too sure of herself. If we're going to continue to check out alternative energy sources... couldn't we spare Zelenka for just--"

The look on Carter's face was one John had yet to become comfortable with. It meant no. And not no like Elizabeth's no, not no until you can talk me into it, but no and it won't do you any good to try to talk me into it.

"I'm afraid not, Colonel. Not until we can get all systems back online in the outlying parts of the city and completely assess the damage from the landing." She continued through John's pout, "However, I may have a suitable solution."

"Which is?"

"I've extended an invitation for a new scientist to join the expedition." She walked around the desk and took her seat. She motioned for John to sit, but he just shifted his weight and rested his palms on the butt of his P-90. "Actually, he was one of Dr. Weir's top candidates when choosing members for the original expedition, but the work he was doing at the time couldn't wait. He's an expert in ZPM technology."

"I thought Radek was the authority."

"Dr. McKay has spent years in this field of study for the SGC, the last few working on possible integration with Asgard technology in an effort to make ZPM power more efficient."

John nodded. "You say you extended an invitation, the guy hasn't made up his mind?"

"The last report I received from the SGC seemed to indicate his acceptance, but knowing McKay, he wouldn't want to leave any loose ends."

"Sounds like our guy." His head continued to pound as he turned for the door. "Keep me posted."

Sam called him back. "John, I need to mention one more thing." Her face was a little pinched, like she knew she'd saved the worst for last. "I've worked with McKay. He can be a bit acerbic, a little hard to take at first, but believe me, once you've been around him for a while... he's only slightly more tolerable."

"Troublemaker?"

"Genius. I hate to admit it, but he's one of the best minds at the SGC and we're damn lucky he's even considering us." She leaned forward, balancing on her fingertips. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that he's... well, he has a bit of an attitude."

John snorted. "Didn't we all? He'll get over that soon enough."

Sam didn't look convinced, but her smile was a bit more believable. "Good. As long as you're aware of it, I don't think we'll have a problem."

~~~~

John optimistically disregarded the warning buzzer and flashing red light on the HUD. If he could just hold this bird together for a few more minutes...

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Slight problem. Have Zelenka meet us in the jumper bay, ETA three minutes. Sheppard out."

What he couldn't ignore were McCallum's and Ronon's raised voices from the rear compartment. He turned just in time to catch a waterfall of sparks out of the corner of his eye. God help him, Dr. McCallum was better than Robson in the field, but apparently no help with the jumper.

It had been two weeks since his talk with Colonel Carter and their trip to M7X-339 was the latest in a shitload of problem missions. Where was the guy Carter promised? Genius or no genius, dammit, he really needed a team scientist, like yesterday!

~~~~

Trailing the rest of the team from the jumper bay, he was hot, tired and dejected at yet another difficult mission. Praying the debriefing would be short and sweet, John wanted nothing more than to hide away in his quarters until dinner. His mind was full of hot showers and cool sheets as he stopped by Carter's office to let her know they were back. Only she wasn't alone.

When the man turned around, it wasn't the smirk John noticed first, it was his eyes. They were vivid blue, but everything else about him, from the way his arms crossed his chest to the sideways slant of his mouth, screamed indifference. In fact, his entire body seemed to be one giant smirk.

Usually that would annoy the hell out of John, but he passed on that in favor of a quick survey of the stranger. He was young, maybe mid twenties. On the one hand, he looked like he hadn't lifted anything heavier than a pencil for years, but a second look drew his attention to the curve of the man's bicep and the way the denim hugged his thighs. His civilian clothes - and that had to be the tackiest plaid shirt in the history of plaid shirts - made it hard to tell to which department he might actually belong.

With no regard and without a word, the man turned his back on John and even though he tried not to, John stole a glance at his ass, then looked over to Carter. "Sorry, we'll debrief in five," he said quickly, ducking out before she had a chance to say anything.

John flopped down in his chair like a petulant kid. He reached for the water pitcher and tried desperately to keep the argument between Ronon and Dr. McCallum from worming its way into his brain. One thing was certain, the proper sequence for flaying the moose-like animal found on M7X-339, was not an image he wanted to carry around for the rest of the day, or ever for that matter.

He'd just raised the glass to his lips when Colonel Carter entered the conference room, the young man with the nice ass in tow. John just managed not to choke when she introduced Doctor Rodney McKay.

John set the glass on the table and tried to appear nonchalant as he leaned back in his chair. Truth was, from the start, something about McKay made him... what... Uneasy? Nervous? Uncomfortable? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but before he could think too much about it, McKay's hand loomed in front of him.

John stood and extended his own. McKay's grip was firm and this time John spent a little more time looking into those eyes. They didn't waver and it was John, himself, who looked away first, then proceeded to stumble over the introductions of his team.

Sam explained she wanted to quickly introduce him before he met with Zelenka. McKay then excused himself and during the remainder of the briefing, John tried to forget just how blue those eyes were.

~~~~

Breakfast before a mission was normally a quiet time for John. It was the time he missed a newspaper the most. He was making do with Major Lorne's mission reports from the previous week when the clatter of another tray and a strange voice startled him. Looking up, the fresh, clean-shaven face of young Doctor McKay greeted him, along with a much too chipper, "Good morning, Colonel."

"McKay." His deadpan would never, ever be confused with chipper, but he did try to make it friendly. This was the guy who was going to help him out after all.

"Sam, uhm, Colonel Carter tells me I'm coming along on one of your missions this morning."

John eyed him. "That's right. You don't have to, but I'd appreciate it."

"No problem." He glanced at Sheppard before taking a big gulp of coffee. "An audition of sorts. Carter says you're looking for a scientist for your team."

"You could call it that. The trip today is strictly humanitarian and you'll be coming along as a member of the science department." John watched him dig into the small mountain of food on his tray, thinking the mess inventory was going to take a serious hit with both Ronon and McKay on the base. "That okay with you?"

"Sure," McKay replied around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

John winced. It was like a train wreck; he wanted to look away, but... "Carter says you're somewhat of an expert on ZPMs."

McKay didn't seem to be paying attention; he was more engrossed in the datapad he'd brought with him. "Hmm, yes."

John checked his watch. Not really wild about watching McKay eat, he began to gather his things. "You can meet us in the ready room at 0900. We'll get you geared up."

McKay snorted. "Geared up?"

"We have standard equipment for all off-world missions," John said patiently.

Still scrolling through whatever he was reading, McKay waved John off and mumbled, "Right.. ready room, 0900, I'll be there."

As John deposited his tray and dishes at the cleanup station, there was a loud and distinct "Cool!" from across the room. He huffed a little laugh and thought of that first day the city had come alive beneath his feet, how it had made him feel. He shook his head slightly. Cool, indeed.

~~~~

Their trip to P7H-449 couldn't have gone better. No problems, no setbacks, no mishaps. John would have been ecstatic if not for the urge to smack McKay's hand away from the jumper's console. Jesus, this was a grown man, but his first trip in a puddlejumper had him equally captivated and restless, and John totally ignored the snorts of derision at the name "puddlejumper". The only time McKay was quiet was when he was poking around on his datapad.

"So, Colonel, how'd I do my first day?" McKay asked out of nowhere.

"Fine, just fine," John replied, though he was actually amazed that Ronon had resisted stunning him thus far.

"Kind of hard to tell, I suppose. Not much heavy lifting," Rodney said, calling up the HUD, again, rubbing John's last nerve dangerously raw.

"I didn't think hard work was your thing," John gritted.

McKay turned to him. "Well, I just mean you could have taken someone without even one Ph.D. along to do what I did today."

John mused over that. "A waste of your time, then."

McKay's eyes shone with a certain haughtiness. "Yes."

John turned and stared straight ahead, his jaw working. "The reason I wanted you along was in case something came up we couldn't handle. Just yesterday, we had to limp back to Atlantis because we couldn't troubleshoot a problem with the jumper. I'm sorry you feel--"

"Okay, okay. I get it. I just thought I'd be doing something more…"

John cut his eyes sideways. "Glamorous?"

"Important, actually." He sniffed and fiddled with the datapad.

"Listen, McKay, being responsible for the safety of this team is the most important job we have." He nodded back to where Teyla and Ronon were sitting. "Something you'd do well to remember." Rodney said nothing and John turned back to see the space gate ahead of them. "Stand by to dial."

~~~~

The winds picked up as the team and a detail of Marines stood in the center of a small, green clearing. They were back on M2R-775 to continue the exploration they'd begun weeks before and John barked orders for everyone to keep in tight formation.

"And we're here, why?" Rodney asked, walking past Sheppard.

McKay had shown up late for the mission and John was quickly losing patience with the doctor's boredom-laden air of superiority. "We're here because Dr. Robson picked up some strange readings on our last trip, but we kinda got interrupted, so now we're gonna check them out."

"Interrupted?"

"A culling," John stated matter-of-factly.

"Hmm, yes. The Wraith," McKay said absently. He shifted his attention to his handheld scanner and began to wander away from the others.

John sighed and headed in his direction. "It'd be nice if we all stayed together, McKay."

Rodney looked back casually. "Yes, yes, of course. Especially since you've brought me to a Wraith-infested planet without providing me a means of defending myself."

John caught up to him. "And until you get some weapons training, it's going to stay that way. You're not a regular member of the team, yet, McKay. It's our job to protect you," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the others, "and we can't do that if you're gonna disregard orders."

Rodney stared at him. "Suppose for some reason I was separated from the team, what then?"

"Exactly my point," John said with a sarcastic smile. He turned, hoping McKay would get the message and follow him. "And I didn't plan on this being a picnic, either... you any closer to locating that signal?"

"Yes, yes. I've got it, but I wouldn't get too excited. I don't believe it's the Holy Grail. Granted, I can see why Dr. Robson would have been interested, but it's no ZedPM."

John turned around. "And how do you know that?"

"Well I don't know... exactly. Call it a hunch, but I don't believe the signal here is the right frequency." He held up the scanner for John to see. "Probably just some low-level radiation--naturally occurring from a rock or mineral bed."

John eyed him carefully and looked around to make sure Teyla, Ronon and the other Marines were still on the perimeter. "Are you sure?"

McKay pulled a face. "Uh, yeah, pretty sure. I mean, my expertise is why you brought me along, after all, but if you want to waste your time checking this out, I'm not going to argue with you."

John took a few steps closer. "That'd be a real good idea, McKay."

He pointed over John's shoulder in the direction of the reading. "Lead the way... Colonel."

John's chest tightened a little. "Teyla," he called, "watch him! Ronon, you take our six." With one last glare at McKay, he turned and stalked past the others, leading them into the interior of a tall canopy of trees.

It didn't take long to track the signal to its source - a small stream running atop an indigenous rock formation.

On the trip back to Atlantis, the jumper was eerily quiet. Even McKay seemed to pick up the vibe that Sheppard was unhappy with another failed search. John glanced behind him. McKay busied himself with his computer tablet.

Seconds later, there was a muffled clunk, a wicked vibration and then John had his hands full of the jumper controls, the jumper itself pitching badly. Adrenaline sped through his veins. "McKay?"

"Just... uhm, you've lost the inertial dampeners."

"I got that. Why? What's going on?" John wrestled the controls, finally able to level the jumper's flight path.

"I don't--just give me a minute."

"Colonel," Teyla interrupted, pointing to the HUD. "There is a hive ship--"

John cut his eyes at the screen. "We don't have a minute, McKay."

Ronon leaned forward. "They're heading back to the planet."

"Yeah," John replied, glancing at Teyla. "Maybe we can run a little interference?"

"Are you crazy?" McKay's voice rapidly approached a pitch only audible to dogs. "You can't even control--"

"I can fly her, you just get the damn dampeners back online," John ordered.

"Colonel, you cannot be thinking--"

"Teyla's right. How about you commit suicide on your own time," McKay called, then his voice sank as if dropped down a well, "Oh my God... we're losing other systems."

"We're coming in too fast," Ronon cried as they approached the space gate.

John checked the HUD. Ronon was right. "You hear that McKay?"

No answer.

John swallowed hard, pushing his heart back where it belonged. They needed to get out of there before they were detected.

Then the lights went out. The HUD disappeared. Dammit.

"It's okay," McKay yelled and John could tell he was no longer behind him. "The auxiliary power should kick in about... now." And it did, as a faint greenish glow lit the jumper.

As they neared the space gate, nothing had changed. "Still too fast, McKay... we're almost--"

"Yes, yes I know that. Working on it... can't you make a loop or something, Jesus, I just need..."

Cold sweat hung about John's neck. "What the hell are you doing back there anyway?"

McKay's voice turned to grating metal. "You just fly the jumper, Colonel. Don't worry about me."

"Teyla, what's going on?" John asked as he manhandled the jumper around for another approach.

"He appears to be working on the main crystal array. I believe he has it connected to his datapad."

John hoped to hell he knew more than McCallum. "Any sparks?" he asked ruefully.

Teyla didn't answer. She became still, her eyes staring. "John, the hive--"

Ronon's hand stabbed the air between them. "Darts!"

"McKay?" John called, turning the jumper back in the direction of the gate. "This ain't no joyride anymore, when--"

There was another thump and the jumper's pattern was smooth again. The HUD sprang back to life indicating all systems back online.

"Son of a..." McKay called from the rear. "Go, go, go."

~~~~

At the debriefing, McKay gave his account of the mission and the likely problem with the jumper. John didn't understand all of the jargon, but he got a good look at the crystal McKay fished from his pocket, the center split with a streak like black lightning. McKay excused himself, saying he wanted to run some diagnostics on the crystal, then glancing at Sheppard, he added, "And since I'm not a regular member of the team, you have all you need from me, I think."

Sam nodded, looking sharply from McKay to Sheppard. When the briefing ended, she asked John to remain behind.

"Well, that was awkward. How's it really going with you two?"

John didn't look her in the eye but mumbled something about fine and know-it-all and attitude. Finally looking up, he said, "But he knows his stuff. I don't want to think where we'd be if he hadn't been on board."

Sam nodded. "So, it's not his ability you have a problem with?"

"No," he replied, making it a three-syllable word.

"John, I did tell you about his attitude. Maybe you should give him a little more time. Rodney's not used to working with others."

"No kidding," he snorted.

"He's always worked alone or had underlings he could crush with a single glare." She smiled. "Perhaps if you included him in some of the team's activities, or... if you're not satisfied with Dr. McCallum, why not ask McKay to join your team?"

Oh yeah, that's just what he needed, a smart-ass bastard to deal with on life and death missions. "The guy's a walking ego trip," John said, as if that was explanation enough. McKay was also kind of hot, but, of course, Carter didn't need to know he thought so.

She pushed off from the conference table and walked over to Sheppard. "John, if you had a background like McKay's, if you knew you were smarter that most everyone else, you might be too. That's what I'm trying to make you understand. Rodney hasn't led a normal life. Maybe a little normalcy is just what he needs."

John raised his eyebrows.

"Look, Rodney and I have our differences of opinion and I think he's an annoying son of a bitch at times, but if we're to locate additional sources of power in this galaxy, and harness them, McKay's the best shot we have. I'm just trying to think of some way to help make him more... palatable."

~~~~

The following weeks brought a few more missions, though John still hadn't asked McKay to officially join the team. They were batting 0 for John-had-lost-count in their search for alternative power sources, but he was starting to get a little hopeful at McKay's constant assurances of what he could do once they did find a ZPM.

Ronon was a bit ambivalent when it came to McKay. He'd been unsuccessful at all attempts to get him into the gym, and didn't give the impression of having an opinion one way or the other, except that McKay was "smart" and as long as he stayed out of his way, Ronon was happy.

Teyla had tried to teach McKay the importance of winding down, but he apparently hadn't nailed down the mechanics of meditation, said it worked wonders for helping him think of new ideas. Teyla had reported he'd just laughed at her insistence that he was supposed to clear his mind.

As for John, he'd taken Carter's advice to heart and included McKay in some of the team's activities. They often all ate together and movie nights were... interesting, to say the least. Watching McKay first eviscerate and then be awestruck by 2001 was exhausting, and his theater etiquette was terrible, speaking out loud during a film as though everyone else was just as interested in his analysis. Something he and John were perpetually at odds about, no matter what movie was playing.

But, McKay had brought along THX-1138 and a copy of the Director's cut of Blade Runner, so John was a little forgiving, except when it came to the popcorn bowl. Whenever John looked for it, it always seemed to be in McKay's lap and John found it increasingly uncomfortable to reach between McKay's legs whenever he'd grin and nod at the bowl.

Somehow, though John's irritation didn't keep him from sitting and listening to McKay talk about his Asgard integration theories, or anything else for that matter, until long after both Ronon and Teyla had gone all bug-eyed and retreated to their quarters for the night.

After a night like that, John lay in bed and tried to convince himself he wasn't attracted to Rodney McKay. His reasoning laid out nicely in an ethereal bubble that hovered above the interlaced fingers across his chest: McKay was too young, McKay was annoyingly arrogant, McKay was probably as straight as the proverbial arrow, and McKay didn't seem to like him much anyway.

But then something McKay had said, or a stray thought - the twist of McKay's mouth as he explained some esoteric theory, the way his hands never stopped moving - would wander in and burst that imaginary bubble, leaving John with thoughts of McKay's hands on him, McKay's mouth wrapped around his cock, capable and eager and that was McKay all over... eager to please.

Some nights John would simply counter those thoughts with a cold shower, but on others... well, on others, he'd just kick the covers back, dig his heels into the mattress and enjoy the ride.

~~~~

The sun blazed, searing the small crescent of flesh between John's shirt collar and his hairline. He could almost smell it cooking as he knelt and carefully removed the shoe and sweaty sock from McKay's left foot.

Bahalora was a devout village with long-standing trade relations with both the Athosians and Atlantis. Their chief product, the j'ana bean, was the closest thing to a true jolt of caffeine they'd found. It was the only crop that grew well in the arid, desolate atmosphere.

"Well, I can see you haven't been spending any time with Ronon in the gym," John said, carefully turning the foot.

"Ow, sonofa--" Rodney held his tongue but couldn't hide his balled fists nor his set jaw. "How the hell was I supposed to know I'd be expected to fight?"

"That's why you should have listened to Ronon in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Ronon knows these cultures, so does Teyla." He eyed McKay. "Although, I'd expect someone as smart as you to know better than to argue the existence of the Bahaloran's chosen god... and with the high priest no less."

"That entire display was utterly--imagine, having to participate in some archaic--in exchange for the opportunity to view an item of Ancient--"

"Save it, McKay, I don't believe in any of that mumbo-jumbo either, but you're in another galaxy here, pal."

Rodney gripped a handful of brittle grass as John rolled his foot in the other direction. "So how come they just let us go?" he asked through gritted teeth. "I thought sure they were planning to roast my ass for dinner."

"That was Teyla's doing. She's well known in Pegasus, kind of a of a good will ambassador." He looked up. "Can you move your toes, move your foot back and forth?"

McKay winced as his toes jerked slightly.

"And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have her make a career out of cleaning up after you." John carefully laid McKay's foot on the ground and rummaged through the pack Teyla had left with them, fishing an elastic bandage from the med kit inside.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... what are you doing?"

John glared.

"Oh my God, that's painful," McKay moaned as John rested the foot between his bent knees. "What's taking them so long? I can tell you, Colonel, I am not overly fond of dying on some godforsaken--"

"Quit your whining, McKay." John began to wrap the bandage. "You're not dying--sprained ankle at best."

A gust of vapid wind set the tall, dry grasses whispering around them. McKay leaned back, chin in the air, seemingly satisfied that John couldn't do too much damage.

"In the future if Teyla or Ronon tells you something's a bad idea, I suggest you heed that advice... for everyone's sake."

"Yes, yes. I understand. Team work... I get it."

"You don't like that much, do you?" John asked as he continued to wrap the flesh-colored cloth around the swollen ankle.

McKay winced again. "I prefer working alone, yes."

John stared at him a moment. "Well, you know what they say, McKay?"

"Hmm, no, Colonel. What do they say?"

John stopped wrapping and looked him in the eye. "There's no 'I' in Team," he said, breaking into a ridiculous grin.

Rodney groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh, how inspiring. I bet you learned that from your high school football coach."

"As a matter of fact, I did." He finished the bandage off just above the ankle. "Listen, the best advice I can give you for missions like this one is just smile, be nice to the villagers and keep your mouth shut... if that's possible."

Rodney scowled.

"Unless of course, they're chasing after you with crossbows," John said, securing his handiwork.

"They have those--ow, hey watch it."

John let go of McKay's foot. He had a snappy retort on the tip of his tongue, but genuine misery seemed to cloud those blue eyes. "Hmm, you think you got it bad," he said instead. "I once had a giant bug attach itself to my neck."

"A giant bug?"

John nodded. "Think Alien meets the Fly."

Rodney made a face. "Seriously?"

John busied himself stuffing things back into the pack. "Yep. Oh, and we were in the jumper, stuck halfway through a space gate at the time."

Rodney's eyes went wide. "Jesus, what happened, I mean how'd you get rid of the bug--how'd you--"

John nudged one shoulder lazily into the hot air. "My crew killed me," he deadpaned.

McKay stared at him.

"And when they couldn't revive me, they dragged me into the event horizon to wait it out," John said, standing up.

"Jesus," Rodney said again. "Well how, how were you... because, obviously..." Rodney waved his hand back and forth between them.

"Zelenka. We'd taken a hit and the damn drive pods wouldn't retract. Radek and his team finally figured out the correct sequence for manual retraction and the rest is history."

"Yes, but with no forward momentum..."

John dusted off his hands and set them squarely on his hips. "Had to blow the rear hatch to send us forward, and not a second to spare."

"Huh," Rodney smirked. "I gather I'm supposed to be impressed." They both looked up when they heard the jumper overhead.

John scooped up their gear and slung the pack over his shoulder. "Nope," he said wryly, helping McKay to his feet. "But it did stop your bellyaching for five minutes." John turned to him. "How's that ankle, still hurt?"

Rodney eyed him a moment, then the barest curve of a grin lifted the corner of his mouth. "Yes, like a sonofabitch."

John grinned back. "You'll be fine. We'll get you back and have Keller take a look."

The hatch of the jumper lowered and Ronon loped toward them, followed by Major Lorne. Ronon took up a position on McKay's other side and John handed off some of the gear to Lorne.

"So, did that really happen or did you just make it up for my benefit?" Rodney asked as they headed for the jumper.

John wrapped his arm tighter around McKay's waist, taking the brunt of his weight. "Mission reports are in the archive, go read for yourself."

McKay smiled again. "Yeah, don't think I won't."

~~~~

That night, John lay in bed thinking of McKay's performance over the past few weeks, wondering what it was that was keeping him from asking McKay to be part of the team. He was obviously brilliant. He was just what John had asked for, a scientist he could depend on, his attitude aside. Although, McKay's biting wit and caustic manner was more of a turn on than an irritant these days.

Not to mention those damn blue eyes that always made McKay look like a kid on the verge of pulling a prank, and the many grimaces, grins and angles he could twist that mouth of his into? And what was it with the uniform jacket? It was like McKay hated to wear it, always removing it whenever he was around John, showing off his arms. But the real problem was McKay's ass. It was getting harder and harder to avert his eyes every time McKay bent down to investigate some odd energy source on missions, or when he stood on ladders to check out Ancient devices, or just coming into a room finding him bent over some console.

If John didn't know better, he'd think McKay was doing that on purpose.

He sighed heavily into darkness kissed by the soft lights from the city. Inviting McKay to join the team was trouble. It was trouble and it was temptation. And that was it right there. All it took some days was a look from McKay to get him hard, and Jesus, what did that make him?

John slipped his hand beneath the sheet to press the heel against his stirring cock, and then he was gone. The spark of skin on skin, fueled by thoughts of McKay, kindled a fire John couldn't stop until and it ended in a full blown, mind-numbing orgasm, the only kind he'd had since first setting eyes on the stranger in that god-awful plaid shirt.

~~~~

It had taken John all day to admit to himself what he already knew, what he'd known for weeks. McKay had more than proven himself and deserved to be part of the team, officially, and the only thing standing in the way was John's own attraction.

He knew what he had to do. It wouldn't be the first time in his career he'd have to work with someone who was strictly 'look but don't touch'. The team was the important thing.

McKay hadn't been in the mess for lunch, which was no big deal, but when he didn't show again for dinner, John became a little concerned. It wasn't like McKay to miss a meal. He grabbed a couple of sandwiches, a fruit cup and chocolate pudding and headed off toward the labs.

Following Zelenka's directions, John found Rodney in one of the research labs, parked in front of a bank of computers, white board at his side crammed with equations and formulas. Rodney glanced his way as John walked in, but immediately turned his attention back to the screens in front of him.

John sidled over to the table where McKay was working. "Didn't see you in the mess for dinner." Sandwich wrappers, empty applesauce and pudding cups littered the table. He held up the fruit cup. "I guess you won't be needing this," John said, setting food down in the one clean space he could find.

McKay looked up. "Are you kidding, I'm starving. Dinner? What time is it?" Checking his watch, he groaned. "Shit."

John looked around the room. There was no sign anyone else had been there. "How long have you been cooped up here anyway?"

Rodney rubbed his eyes and straightened his back, which brought on a huge yawn. "Hmm, all afternoon." He groaned again as he rolled his neck. "At least I have a high tolerance to turkey sandwiches," he said, smiling and unwrapping one of the ones John brought.

He stood by and watched McKay down half of it in an alarmingly short amount of time.

"So, no missions for you today?" McKay asked, trying to open the fruit with one hand while groping around on the table for one of the several plastic spoons lying there.

John shook his head. "Actually, I was kind of putting them off until..." He pointed, indicating McKay's ankle. "How's it feeling?"

"Much better. Keller says I can start putting more--wait a minute, is this your way of asking me to join the team, Sheppard? Have I finally passed muster? Hey, does that mean I'll get a gun, and the gene therapy? I could fly the jumper and--"

"First, McKay, all you'll get is some weapons training. Actually, I mostly just want you for your brain."

Rodney's face fell briefly, but then it lit up again, that playful smugness coming through. "Oh, well, of course you do."

"Uh huh." It was feeding an already overblown ego, but just this once, John figured he could afford it, if it flattered Rodney into joining the team. "I mean, anybody who can get up to speed on Ancient tech the way you have--"

"So, no flying the jumper right away. Pity, especially if I'm successful with my latest project," Rodney said pointing to one of the screens.

John could make out a few of the words, and the... "That's a diagram of a jumper."

"Indeed it is." McKay stood up, bouncing a little on his one good foot. "I'm attempting a few modifications, weapons, propulsion. Wanna take a look?" He motioned for John to take his seat.

As John sat down, McKay hovered behind him, standing so close his body heat prickled the hairs on the back of John's neck and suddenly the whole room felt awfully warm.

"Just let me... start 'er up here," McKay was saying, leaning across John to press a few keys on the center laptop. As he did, Rodney's stiff jeans (the ones he insisted on wearing off hours) brushed against John's shoulder. "There, now just watch." He seemed much too pleased with himself and he was still standing too damn close, making it difficult for John to focus his entire attention on the screen.

The simulation appeared to be an attempt to increase the power of the jumper from a dead stop by modifying the main thrusters - something John had to admit was a good idea, since it was usually evasive maneuvers that saved his ass in a pinch.

Then Rodney leaned in again.

He was right at John's ear, arm outstretched, pointing to something on another screen. The movement stirred the air around them, filling it with a warm, spicy scent. Reluctantly, John took a deep breath.

Goddammit, what was McKay doing? He couldn't not know what he was doing... could he?

Rodney was still talking, edging his crotch into John's shoulder and when he moved as he spoke, John found it wasn't just McKay's jeans that were stiff. And, fuck, that shouldn't cause heart palpitations or the sweat beading across his brow, shouldn't make his chest rise and fall rapidly or make his own dick stand at attention either, but it did.

John cut off the technobabble in mid-stream. "What kind of game are you playing, McKay?"

"Who me? No game, the simulation's a legitimate--I'm sure I can--"

John turned to him. His eyes slipped to Rodney's crotch then back up. "You know what I mean."

Rodney grinned. "It's no game, Colonel." Despite the grin, there was no mirth in his voice. "About time you caught up. Christ, I've been flirting with you for weeks."

John cleared his throat. "Yeah," he replied, pretending to know that. He cleared his throat again, trying to swallow down the thick, dry coat. Was McKay saying...

"What? You're surprised I'm attracted to you? I thought--"

"No," John lied. The temperature of the room made his head spin and, shit, he really needed to get out of there, only that would require standing up, and then he'd be so busted.

"Huh, I think maybe you are."

John's breath caught as McKay's hip brushed his shoulder again; their combined heat crawled all over him. Tiny beads of sweat broke free and trickled away from his hairline. Fuck this.

John stood abruptly and shoved his hands into his pockets. He took a few steps away from McKay. What was wrong with him? Jesus, just get the guy on the team and get the hell of there - how hard was that? "So, you interested?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, Colonel, I'm interested."

"In the team," John stressed.

Rodney cocked his head. "Hands cold, Sheppard? I'd say it seems a bit warm in here."

John narrowed his eyes and ignored the question. "You'll need to know how to handle a weapon. Can you shoot?"

Rodney shook his head and stepped closer. "No, but I'm sure you could teach me." Another step. "I'm a real quick study."

John took a step back, making a vain attempt not to make it appear to be a retreat, shifting his weight and ducking his head, like it was something he meant to do all along. "All right. What about tomorrow? Meet me in the armory?"

"Doing some mock-ups on this jumper thing with Zelenka in the morning. That could take hours. To be safe, why don't we say after dinner?"

John glanced around, anything not to have to look into those eyes. Because if he did, he might lose that last little thread of willpower he was hanging onto, the only thing that stood between walking his ass out the door and bending McKay over one of those goddamn lab tables. "Fine, sure," John said, turning for the door. "After dinner."

He couldn't get back to his quarters fast enough.

Part Two