![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: The Trouble With Principles
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Stargate:Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard/Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagen
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not…anything?
Summary: “Let me get this straight,” Rodney said, “I either fuck your daughter or you kill me?”
Word count: 919 words
Challenge: for the cliché_bingo, wild card: Prompt: Fuck Or Die.
Author’s Notes: You probably should never leave me alone with an hour to write, a deadline and a pile of cliché prompts.
~*+*~
“Let me get this straight,” Rodney McKay said and tugged at the rough hemp rope wrapped tightly around his wrists. It was futile, he already knew that. He wouldn’t manage to escape, and he didn’t want to rub his skin raw, either. Those wounds would hurt like hell, besides, he didn’t want to know what kind of infection he could get from the rope. Just thinking about it gave him a bad feeling at the pit of his stomach.
“So…I either can fuck your daughter…” Rodney nodded sharply in the general direction of the young woman. “Or you’re going to kill me?”
The Chieftain of the little alien tribe that had kidnapped Rodney during their latest mission nodded earnestly.
“Oh. Okay.” Rodney frowned unhappily while turning to look at the Chieftain’s daughter again.
She was good-looking, he had to admit that, even if he did it just to himself. Long, blonde hair that was in several neat braids, her eyes a bright blue that reminded him of the ocean surrounding Atlantis, and she was smiling invitingly at him while allowing him to look down her cleavage.
It was a very nice cleavage, too, Rodney thought, and the Chieftain’s daughter seemed like a really nice person, too. Not many women looked at Rodney like this. That was more Sheppard’s area of expertise. Rodney was the one of their team who was the very, very, very, very, very smart one, thank you very much, and John was the playboy who flirted with the Chieftain and his daughter and got kidnapped or chased away for it, leaving his team to rescue him.
John.
Not Rodney.
Rodney was the one who got to make fun of John afterwards, when they were safely back at Atlantis and Rodney was sure that John was really okay.
And now? Here he was, faced with the decision – fuck or die. Die a horrible death at the hands of these barbarians who didn’t even know what basic hygiene was, not to mention things like mathematics or physics or any other real science.
“Decide. Now!” the Chieftain growled – what a Neanderthal, Rodney thought with disgust – and two of the tribe’s warriors poked him in the ribs with their very primitive, but also very pointy and sharp weapons.
Rodney yelped in protest, but at the same time, his thoughts raced. He had been taken by these Neanderthals two days ago. They hadn’t left the planet, and it shouldn’t have been a problem for his team to track him down and rescue him.
And yet, here he was, still a prisoner.
“What is your decision?” the Chieftain asked sharply.
Rodney glanced again at the woman in question. She was smiling, triumph shining in her eyes, and she was tugging suggestively at the neckline of her fur dress, while one of the armed men who were standing in a loose circle around Rodney glared at him as if he wanted to kill him with his looks alone. If Rodney interpreted it correctly, it wouldn’t matter what he picked. He would die anyways.
He grimaced. “Look,” he started, “I’m sure your daughter is a nice woman…but…I’m not even sure, with this kind of pressure, if I’d even be able to…perform, if you know what I mean…and you never know where she’s been and some of the space STDs I’ve seen around are pretty nasty and I’d rather not…”
“So you chose death,” the Chieftain interrupted his rambling impatiently.
Rodney lifted his chin stubbornly.
“Yes.”
~*+*~
“Damn it, Rodney,” John hissed between tightly clenched teeth while pressing a bandage tightly enough against the shallow cut across Rodney’s throat to make his fingers turn white. “Couldn’t you, for once, take the easy way and not insult the aliens that kidnapped you?”
Rodney glared at him defiantly. “This was the easy way,” he snapped. “I trusted you to rescue me before these barbarians actually sacrificed me! What took you so long?”
“Close call,” Ronon grumbled behind them and carefully checked his weapon. He’d shot the Chieftain just as he’d started to slit Rodney’s throat, and Rodney wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask if Ronon’s weapon had been set to stun.
“What if we’d been five minutes later?” John asked, and Rodney blushed and ducked his head. “I’m not sleeping around,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “I have standards.”
“Rodney,” Teyla interrupted smoothly, before John could tell him what he thought about his standards. “Should this happen again, please do us all a favor and accept the Chieftain’s offer.”
Rodney looked miserably from John to her and back. “But I’m with you guys.”
The pressure on his neck grew until it reached a painful quality as John leaned his whole weight on it, to brush his forehead against Rodney’s, and Ronon growled quietly behind him. Teyla only gave Rodney a warm smile.
“I would rather know you alive while lying with somebody else than dead,” she announced. “Is that sufficient to soothe your fears?”
Swallowing, Rodney nodded, and John gave him a slight nudge. It was just a brief touch of his elbow, but Rodney knew John well enough to understand the message.
He could read it as well as he could decipher Ronon’s stance and the look on Teyla’s face. It had taken him long enough to learn this particular language, but he was fluent in it now.
We love you, their bodies said.
We’re glad you’re okay.
And: don’t do anything this stupid ever again.
And Rodney’s body answered with a fierce promise.
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Stargate:Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard/Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagen
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not…anything?
Summary: “Let me get this straight,” Rodney said, “I either fuck your daughter or you kill me?”
Word count: 919 words
Challenge: for the cliché_bingo, wild card: Prompt: Fuck Or Die.
Author’s Notes: You probably should never leave me alone with an hour to write, a deadline and a pile of cliché prompts.
~*+*~
“Let me get this straight,” Rodney McKay said and tugged at the rough hemp rope wrapped tightly around his wrists. It was futile, he already knew that. He wouldn’t manage to escape, and he didn’t want to rub his skin raw, either. Those wounds would hurt like hell, besides, he didn’t want to know what kind of infection he could get from the rope. Just thinking about it gave him a bad feeling at the pit of his stomach.
“So…I either can fuck your daughter…” Rodney nodded sharply in the general direction of the young woman. “Or you’re going to kill me?”
The Chieftain of the little alien tribe that had kidnapped Rodney during their latest mission nodded earnestly.
“Oh. Okay.” Rodney frowned unhappily while turning to look at the Chieftain’s daughter again.
She was good-looking, he had to admit that, even if he did it just to himself. Long, blonde hair that was in several neat braids, her eyes a bright blue that reminded him of the ocean surrounding Atlantis, and she was smiling invitingly at him while allowing him to look down her cleavage.
It was a very nice cleavage, too, Rodney thought, and the Chieftain’s daughter seemed like a really nice person, too. Not many women looked at Rodney like this. That was more Sheppard’s area of expertise. Rodney was the one of their team who was the very, very, very, very, very smart one, thank you very much, and John was the playboy who flirted with the Chieftain and his daughter and got kidnapped or chased away for it, leaving his team to rescue him.
John.
Not Rodney.
Rodney was the one who got to make fun of John afterwards, when they were safely back at Atlantis and Rodney was sure that John was really okay.
And now? Here he was, faced with the decision – fuck or die. Die a horrible death at the hands of these barbarians who didn’t even know what basic hygiene was, not to mention things like mathematics or physics or any other real science.
“Decide. Now!” the Chieftain growled – what a Neanderthal, Rodney thought with disgust – and two of the tribe’s warriors poked him in the ribs with their very primitive, but also very pointy and sharp weapons.
Rodney yelped in protest, but at the same time, his thoughts raced. He had been taken by these Neanderthals two days ago. They hadn’t left the planet, and it shouldn’t have been a problem for his team to track him down and rescue him.
And yet, here he was, still a prisoner.
“What is your decision?” the Chieftain asked sharply.
Rodney glanced again at the woman in question. She was smiling, triumph shining in her eyes, and she was tugging suggestively at the neckline of her fur dress, while one of the armed men who were standing in a loose circle around Rodney glared at him as if he wanted to kill him with his looks alone. If Rodney interpreted it correctly, it wouldn’t matter what he picked. He would die anyways.
He grimaced. “Look,” he started, “I’m sure your daughter is a nice woman…but…I’m not even sure, with this kind of pressure, if I’d even be able to…perform, if you know what I mean…and you never know where she’s been and some of the space STDs I’ve seen around are pretty nasty and I’d rather not…”
“So you chose death,” the Chieftain interrupted his rambling impatiently.
Rodney lifted his chin stubbornly.
“Yes.”
~*+*~
“Damn it, Rodney,” John hissed between tightly clenched teeth while pressing a bandage tightly enough against the shallow cut across Rodney’s throat to make his fingers turn white. “Couldn’t you, for once, take the easy way and not insult the aliens that kidnapped you?”
Rodney glared at him defiantly. “This was the easy way,” he snapped. “I trusted you to rescue me before these barbarians actually sacrificed me! What took you so long?”
“Close call,” Ronon grumbled behind them and carefully checked his weapon. He’d shot the Chieftain just as he’d started to slit Rodney’s throat, and Rodney wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask if Ronon’s weapon had been set to stun.
“What if we’d been five minutes later?” John asked, and Rodney blushed and ducked his head. “I’m not sleeping around,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “I have standards.”
“Rodney,” Teyla interrupted smoothly, before John could tell him what he thought about his standards. “Should this happen again, please do us all a favor and accept the Chieftain’s offer.”
Rodney looked miserably from John to her and back. “But I’m with you guys.”
The pressure on his neck grew until it reached a painful quality as John leaned his whole weight on it, to brush his forehead against Rodney’s, and Ronon growled quietly behind him. Teyla only gave Rodney a warm smile.
“I would rather know you alive while lying with somebody else than dead,” she announced. “Is that sufficient to soothe your fears?”
Swallowing, Rodney nodded, and John gave him a slight nudge. It was just a brief touch of his elbow, but Rodney knew John well enough to understand the message.
He could read it as well as he could decipher Ronon’s stance and the look on Teyla’s face. It had taken him long enough to learn this particular language, but he was fluent in it now.
We love you, their bodies said.
We’re glad you’re okay.
And: don’t do anything this stupid ever again.
And Rodney’s body answered with a fierce promise.
~end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-30 11:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-03 10:20 am (UTC)But I'm really glad that this works, especially with the voices - halfway through, I caught myself wondering if Rodney would really make this choice, and had to justify the whole thing :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-03 02:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-04 12:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-05 03:22 am (UTC)Thank you so much for showing that Sheppard's not the only one to get all the space skanks thrown at him! You'd think that in Pegasus, brains would be more desired than mere looks.
;)
Awesomecakes.
-----}-@
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-05 03:50 am (UTC)