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Comfort (Uncomfortable Territory Prologue)
Author: Ras Elased
Spoilers: Pegasus Project
Summary: "I keep one with me at all times. It's just a comfort to know it's there."
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate: SG-1 or Stargate: Atlantis in any way, shape or form, nor do I take any credit for their ideas, characters, and universe. This snippet contains dialogue from The Pegasus Project, which I also don't own. No money made, only borrowed for the enjoyment of it.
Author's notes: This is the prologue of what I expect will be a 3-parter. Episode tag to TPP. McShep, McMitchell
oOo
It had started out as a joke. Sheppard had grabbed a lemon from the mess one morning when Rodney was being particularly annoying due to lack of sleep and sufficient caffeination. He kept it with him on the mission as a reminder that he had a surefire way to shut McKay up if he really had to, but he'd never actually had to threaten McKay with it. He'd been too busy trying to rescue the man from their latest would-be allies. Again.
McKay's "amazing" brain hadn't been able to determine that said brain was in danger, and had followed the latest blonde, leggy pseudo-scientist into the clutches of the local government, who wanted said brain for undoubtedly nefarious purposes. He was getting really sick of chasing after Rodney every time he let his libido lead him into a trap when the natives felt his brain was too much of a goodie to pass up.
John decided that in the interest of all their livelihoods, he would resume the cockblocking as soon as this mission was over, Rodney's righteous indignation over Norina be damned.
During the mission, he found his hand unconsciously resting on the lemon in his pocket whenever he was worried or tense, its weight somehow grounding him. When they got Rodney back with nothing more than a few scratches and a bruised ego, he forgot all about the lemon, and went on about his business as usual.
Bringing the lemon on the second mission was an accident. He had forgotten it was in his pocket, not finding it until he was digging through his pockets in search of an extra epipen. Teyla sat with Rodney's head in her lap, stroking his hair through the worst of the convulsions. John had felt useless, watching Rodney's lips slowly turn blue and unable to do anything about it. He shifted the lemon from palm to palm and paced, just to give his unoccupied hands something to do, to ease his feeling of helplessness. When Ronon finally returned with Carson and they had stabilized McKay, John silently tucked the fruit back in his pocket. The irony that he had found solace in a lemon while Rodney went into anaphylactic shock was not lost on him.
After that, the lemon became a regular part of his gear, even making it into his unofficial pre-mission checklist. Extra powerbars for Ronon and McKay? Check. Extra hair clip for Teyla, because she always lost it? Check. Trojans for…well, just in case? Check. Lucky Lemon? Check.
In the field, his hands had developed familiar resting places that they seemed to gravitate to unconsciously. One was on the hilt of his P-90, the other was on the lemon tucked securely in his vest. When one started to go bad or, as happened on occasion, got squished, he simply got a new one from the mess. Eventually, he decided it just wasn't worth it to keep shifting the lemon from his field gear to his uniform, so he just kept it in his jacket pocket. Sometimes he would forget it was there, then find his hand resting over his pocket at odd times. During mission briefings, when Rodney droned on and on about whatever the hell Sheppard was busy tuning out. When he was hanging out in the lab, and McKay's eyes lit up in some silent understanding that only he could comprehend. When they got into the inevitable trouble on missions, or even just hearing Rodney's voice check in over the radio.
So he wasn't really surprised to find his hand placed over the familiar weight of the lemon in his pocket as he followed Colonel Mitchell out of the briefing room. Mitchell seemed like an okay guy, somebody John might actually enjoy hanging out with if he was stationed with him on Atlantis. He knew he could trust Mitchell to take care of McKay, or at least trust McKay to take care of himself. Still, it seemed wrong to send Rodney off to play with nukes and black holes and not be there to watch his back. He'd already given Mitchell a few tips on the Do's and Don'ts on how to handle Dr. Rodney McKay, but he figured one more tip couldn't hurt. "Listen," he said, "if McKay gives you a hard time, just…"
"Shoot him," Mitchell finished dryly.
"Yeah," John smirked. "Also, he's mortally allergic to citrus."
Mitchell looked over his shoulder curiously. "Really?"
John smiled, pulling the lemon from his pocket. "I keep one with me at all times." He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before handing the lemon over to Mitchell. "It's just a comfort to know it's there."
Mitchell peered at the little yellow fruit. "That's good intel. Thanks," he said, sounding genuinely pleased.
Sheppard just gave a little nod before walking off. He heard McKay mutter something to Mitchell as he headed back to his quarters, and found his hand drifting to his now empty pocket, trying to ignore the odd feelings of loss suddenly rising in his chest.
On to Uncomfortable Territory: Part 1
Also: I'm looking for potential beta readers. If anyone's interested, let me know in the comments. :D