Work Text:
Chapter 1
“Earthers are weird.”
To anyone else, the remark would have seemed to come from nowhere, but Ronon figured Teyla was getting used to his abrupt way of starting conversations. That he would start one while they were practicing with the bantos rods was more unusual, but he wanted a private conversation, which was surprisingly difficult to have in Atlantis. Their practice times early in the morning tended to be one of the very few times they could talk without feeding the rumor that they were sharing blankets. The Earthers were as bad about gossip as any other small community he’d run into.
“I expect they find us equally strange,” Teyla replied mildly, bringing her left arm up and blocking his attack while countering with a hit from the right.
Ronon grunted his agreement as they drew back to circle each other. “The Earthers haven’t exactly been slow to point out how weird they think everything in Pegasus is. Of course, they think they have the right to change whatever it is that they don’t like.”
After what he’d learned recently, he wasn’t feeling very charitable toward the aliens…aliens who hadn’t even figured out that they were the aliens in this galaxy, not the other way around. He was already sick of being called “that alien guy on Sheppard’s team.”
“They have had the luxury of doing as they please for thousands of years in their galaxy.” Teyla didn’t pause when Ronon attacked in a flurry movement, easily matching him blow-for-blow. “They have not yet learned how to be members of the Pegasus community.”
“Ha!” The bark of laughter slipped from him in his surprise. Teyla must have had an especially frustrating run-in with someone to be so sharp-tongued.
If anyone from Earth had heard Teyla say that, they might have been surprised at what sounded like criticism. They would not understand that being known for doing as one pleased over a long period in the Pegasus galaxy meant the person was acting like an ill-mannered child who needed to spend many hours working with a firm taskmaster. Not being a productive member of a community was a horrible insult; it meant they were a drain on community resources without returning anything of value. Such behavior was viewed as the ultimate form of both arrogance and uselessness.
“You’re much nicer than I want to be most of the time,” Ronon growled, most of his attention on their fight.
Ronon wanted to beat most of the Earthers until they figured out they weren’t entitled to anything in this galaxy. Just because they had better technology—though the really advanced stuff wasn’t actually theirs—they thought they were superior to everyone in Pegasus. He’d like to see how superior they felt after their world and their people had been culled almost to extinction.
When Ronon failed to fall for the false hole in her guard, Teyla suggested, “You are an excellent sparring partner. You should offer to assist with training others in hand-to-hand fighting.”
He snorted. “For thinking they’re so much better than we primitives are, they could use all the help they can get.”
It was an idea, and he’d get to vent some of his frustrations on the worst of them…except he’d actually have to train the bastards while he was at it.
Though Ronon wasn’t a cruel man, he was extremely pragmatic. Surviving so long as a Runner hadn’t let him be anything else. If feeding some of the most obnoxious Earthers to the wraith would save himself or his team, so be it. Though maybe it would help if the wraith-bait had better skills since it would mean he and his team would make it farther before the wraith came after them. Huh. He’d have to consider it.
There was silence for some time but for their breath and the striking of wood-upon-wood.
“Was there something specific that caused your earlier observation?” Teyla finally prodded.
Ronon watched her through narrowed eyes as she spun under his attack, maneuvering him closer to the edge of the mat and into a defensive position. It was irritating to have someone so much smaller outmatch him as much as she did.
“The kysra.”1
Teyla started, nearly dropping her guard in truth this time. “The kysra? I admit you have surprised me, Ronon.”
The matter of the kysra was a deep pain all peoples of the galaxy felt, but no more so than the Satedans. Only once had Teyla broached the topic with Ronon not long after he’d joined the AR-1 team.
While on a trading mission to one of the friendlier worlds, after the evening meal and after drinking several cups of the strong alcohol native to the planet, Teyla had privately asked Ronon if he thought there was any possibility any of the kysra might have escaped the destruction of Sateda. He’d done his best not to be unkind to her, but he’d made it plain he didn’t want to talk about it. Ever.
Ronon scowled and counterattacked, getting into a better position.
“McKay finally told me the reason he and Shepard don’t share blankets is because Earther laws don’t allow warrior-mates to be together that way. Get married either.”
Teyla gave him a narrow-eyed, skeptical look. “Is that truly what Rodney said?”
Ronon carefully didn’t smirk. Teyla was one of the few people he was sure suspected Ronon wasn’t as simple as he pretended to be. He had been a Specialist on Sateda—a rank equivalent to a Lieutenant or a Captain in Earth terms from what he could figure out. One did not reach that rank of command, especially at the age of twenty, by being either simple or uneducated.
“Well, he said the stuff about people not being allowed to share blankets,” Ronon admitted, barely getting out of the way in time to avoid a bantos rod to the knee.
Teyla was vicious and took pleasure in leaving him with bruises, something he could respect as a warrior. In another life, they might have worked as bedmates. Not now, though. Not knowing what he did.
“I just figured that he was talking about him and Sheppard. I’ve got eyes. McKay looks at Sheppard the same way he looks at that stupid coffee he keeps locked up.”
“While you may have the right impression about Rodney, I do not believe John looks at him the same way,” Teyla said, choosing her words with care. “In any matter, it is none of our business.”
“Huh.”
Teyla was confirming what Ronon had seen too. He’d first assumed that Sheppard and McKay were sharing blankets, but the longer he’d watched, the less sure he’d been. He’d started to think Sheppard might be sarex2—one whose desires for touch and love were not sexual. While not common on Sateda, there was certainly nothing wrong with being sarex. He just wasn’t sure how Earthers felt about such people. Until he was, he wouldn’t say anything.
Ronon’s distraction cost him. Teyla drove him back with a series of rapid movements, ending her attack only when he tried to spin away, and she struck his shoulder hard enough to make him wince slightly.
Ronon snarled and whirled, his irritation at taking a hit enabling him to move half again as fast. His longer arms gave him enough advantage land a glancing blow to Teyla’s hip. She defended and deflected the next, though she nearly had to overextend herself to do so.
This time the noise Ronon made was satisfied.
Teyla laughed, slightly breathless as she slipped inside Ronon’s guard, then ducked and twisted behind him to deliver a resounding thwack to his backside. She laughed again at Ronon’s indignant yelp.
“The kysra are not lost,” he growled. He figured hitting him in the ass was her version of helping him get to the point. Ronon hated to admit that it was effective. Annoying, but effective.
The single sentence stopped Teyla in her tracks and nearly made her stumble. She gasped, her grip loosening just enough that one rod went flying from her grasp with Ronon’s next attack. She shook off the emotion freezing her brain and body barely in time to keep from ending up on the floor as she had on one memorable occasion.
“What? Stop, Ronon. Stop!”
He obeyed since she looked more shaken than he had ever seen her, and he couldn’t blame her.
Ronon stepped back, though his body remained taut and ready. It wasn’t until they both lowered their weapons and took another step back that he rolled his shoulders and lost his aggressive stance.
“Are you certain, Ronon?” Teyla demanded.
“Yes.” Ronon turned away abruptly, not allowing himself to express his feelings about it. He moved to the back wall and located his water bottle and towel he had brought with him and set out of the way.
Teyla stood with her mouth open but entirely unable to speak for several moments.
“When did you first discover this? How is it that you have never mentioned it before?” She followed him and laid her hand on his forearm. “The news of the survival of one of the Satedan Beloved could change many things in our galaxy.”
“Wasn’t sure until couple weeks ago.”
Never comfortable with another’s touch for long, Ronon stepped out of reach. He retrieved a second towel and water, tossing her the towel right away. He waited until he’d returned to her side to hand her the water bottle, their sweaty hands brushing. His eyes met hers, then went to the water before he stepped back again.
The nod of thanks she gave him was only partly for the water. He’d made certain to let her know that his aversion to touch wasn’t an aversion to her touch alone. He’d wanted that to be clear after he’d found out about her wraith DNA and the way her own people had reacted.
Ronon knew she’d start demanding answers as soon as her mouth caught up to her brain, so he offered, “Caught some Earther military guy being an ass to that guy who’s always in the gateroom. That one who’s from the same tribe as McKay.”
“Chuck?”
“No, not him. That other guy. The really quiet one.”
Teyla had to stop and think. There were only a few people permitted in the control room, so perhaps it was one of the science officers. “Oh, the one called Robins? Or is it Robin?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Ronon agreed, gulping down more water. “I didn’t understand what that military guy said, but I didn’t need to from the way Robins was acting—all afraid and ashamed.”
“Cruelty does seem to be a universal language,” Teyla replied grimly. “What did you do?”
Ronon bared his teeth like a particularly vicious quivox.3 “Told the military guy I needed a sparring buddy and dragged him to the gym so I could kick his ass until Sheppard heard about it and made me let him go.”
“Effective as long as he is aware of the reason for his punishment.” Teyla said, lips twitching.
Ronon understood the need for physical reprimand, though he shot her a look of disdain that expressed just how much he didn’t care about the military guy’s understanding.
“I was going to let it go once I thought he got how stupid it was to bully the guy who can lock us out of Atlantis when we’re on missions, but then Sheppard showed up and wanted to know why I was kicking the guy’s ass.”
“I assume you explained.” Teyla twisted her hair up to get it out of the way so she could dry her neck. Her skin, and Ronon’s too, almost steamed in the cold morning air. Not surprising since they’d been practicing for nearly two hours.
“Yep.” Ronon took another drink. “Told Sheppard that the military guy had backed Robins into a corner. Then told him what he’d been saying. The more I told him, the madder Sheppard got until he had that same look he gets when he hears someone say stuff about you being part wraith.”
Teyla paused in the midst of wiping the sweat from her collarbone. “That bad?”
Ronon grunted and stripped off his own tunic to scrub his towel over his neck and shoulders. He’d like to give more than a dirty look to those who talked about Teyla like that, but Sheppard had told him no. It would make too much paperwork. He’d almost offered to show Sheppard how to dispose of a body completely with just a few chemicals, but that wouldn’t fit with his not-so-smart persona.
“Sheppard assigned the military guy to me for an hour every day for the next four weeks, supposedly to work on his hand-to-hand skills.” Disgust and fury contorted Ronon’s features before he wrestled his emotions back under control. “Then he dismissed the guy and explained what the guy had been saying. He said that there are people called deltas on Earth, and that prejudice against them is worse than against warrior-mates. He said that deltas—or delts as they’re called—are considered unnatural, like something went wrong when they were being formed inside their mothers. What that guy was saying to the gateroom guy—Robins—wasn’t illegal, and a lot of people wouldn’t even think it was bad for him to say it.”
“But wait,” Teyla frowned, one hand going to her hip. “I have heard the term ‘delt’ before. We have watched several movies in which we have seen delta characters. Are they not the beautiful but sex-obsessed men and women? The ones who are always determined to share blankets with or destroy the hero? If not that, then they are foolish and think of nothing but breeding, often to gain years of support and compensation from the father of the child?”
“Yep.” Ronon shifted his weight to one leg and tossed his towel over his shoulder. “Sheppard said that’s how they’re almost always portrayed in Earther entertainment.”
“Yet Robins is one of these delts?” she clarified. “He is not unintelligent, nor have I ever observed or heard that he was sharing blankets with anyone. He does not have even one child that I know of, much less the brood of ill-mannered younglings the deltas in the movies have.”
Ronon nodded once, his jaw clenching, eyes hot with fury. With the speed of what Dr. Weir called the “rumor mill” on Atlantis, there would be some hint if he were similar to the deltas from the movies.
“I guess Earthers don’t let little things like reality get in the way of their prejudices. Sheppard had to explain what delta meant. Teyla, deltas are kysra.”
Teyla’s eyes went wide and she gaped at him. Her hand flew to her breast as if her heart were suddenly beating abnormally.
“I—it—surely it cannot be! You must be incorrect.” She shook her head. When Ronon did not immediately take it back, she sank to the padded floor. “I do not understand. How could this happen, Ronon? As you said, Robins is from the same place as Dr. McKay. How could there be kysra in their galaxy?”
“Sheppard says Earth is the only planet they have found to have delts,” he practically snarled the word. “How they got there… I read histories when I was growing up on Sateda that said Sateda broke with those this galaxy calls the Ancestors because they kidnapped many of our kysra. The stories said that before they were called Ancients, they were called Alterans. They only took on the title of Ancient when they heard our tales of the Vedaeus,4 the Old Ones5 who had created the kysra.”
For once, Teyla’s expression was showing every bit of her dawning understanding and horror.
“And so as they took the title Ancient from the Old Ones, they took the title Ancestor from the kysra because one meaning for kysra is ‘dawn of life’ or ‘bringer of life.”
Ronon nodded sharply, but he didn’t mention that the very word Satedan meant “the children” or “the descendants.” By calling themselves “ancestors,” the Alterans were denigrating the titles for the Vedaeus, the kysra, and all Satedans. He wanted to scream and rage, to destroy everything and everyone over the injustice of it all because, in their elitism and arrogance, the Alterans had set themselves to be treated as gods. They had stolen kysra from their rightful planet and taken them to another galaxy where they were treated as subhuman.
As if that wasn’t enough, the kysra were gone in Pegasus because of the so-called “Ancestors.” The same Alterans who had stolen the kysra for genetic experimentation had later experimented with the iratus bug, resulting in the wraith—the beings that would one day murder the last of the kysra in Pegasus. To him, the Alterans had left nothing but a legacy of death behind. If he could travel back in time, he’d kill them all without a second thought.
Teyla whispered, “I do not know what to say.”
She pressed her towel to her cheek, bantos rods long forgotten on the floor. Ronon almost felt bad for telling her, but someone besides him needed to know. What if he got killed someday? Someone needed to know who the “delts” really were.
“Ronon, the Athosians still pray in the language of the Ancestors—the Alterans. No wonder the gods stopped hearing us if we use the tongue of those who were responsible for such travesty.”
Ronon didn’t know what to say to that. The Old Ones belonged to Sateda and the Satedans. He’d never cared much about who the other planets prayed to or how they did it. He figured most of them prayed to the “Ancients.” That’s all he’d seen as a runner.
Despite being abandoned by the Alterans for thousands of years, much of the Pegasus galaxy still were in awe of or outright worshiped the Ancestors. The only planet that refused to do anything of the kind was Sateda. It was ironic that one of the Alterans’ creations had destroyed Sateda except for him and the galaxy’s fading memory of the Satedan kysra.
Teyla stared blankly at her hands, trying to regain a bit of her composure. “If the people of the galaxy knew this about the Alterans… I suspect it would cause further rifts among societies and even in families.” She raised her head and looked at Ronon, begging with her eyes. “Are you certain, Ronon? Did you speak with Robins?”
“No,” Ronon replied, squatting down next to her, leaning his back against the wall. “Partly because of what you said. We Satedans always kept our beliefs quiet because we knew what it would do. The wraith kill enough of us. They don’t need us to help by killing each other over what the Alterans did to Sateda.” He was silent for several seconds, then added. “I haven’t asked Robins because, as much as there is a part of me that hopes there truly are kysra on Earth, there is another part of me hopes I’m wrong because—” Ronon swallowed several times and looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes when he knew his own were filled with grief and fury. “—because treating the kysra with such disrespect is anathema. Knowing it happens so often that it’s accepted and expected is a crime against all peoples, here and in the Earthers’ galaxy.”
Teyla studied Ronon intently. “I assume you did not explain this to John.”
He shook his head. “From Sheppard’s reaction, he doesn’t like or agree with the way deltas are treated, but he can’t do anything about it officially. He told me that kysra on Earth are forced to choose a gender. They don’t even let them be called by a word that describes who they are. They have to pick male or female. He said some have some kind of operation to ‘fix’ their bodies so that they can live as men or women.”
Teyla drew her knees up and laid her forehead against them. She looked near tears or about to be sick. He knew she prided herself on being strong, but he’d never blame her if hearing this did make her ill. It was too much for anyone to think about, even him.
He didn’t understand how the kysra could be denied their very nature. How could any society, especially one as advanced as Earth, treat a portion of their own people with cruelty worthy of a wraith? Then again, how could generation after generation of people in his own galaxy worship the Alterans or even the wraith? It was sickening.
After thinking for several moments, she raised her head. “From speaking with Elizabeth, I know that Earth’s government will not change without a very good incentive. If we told Dr. Weir, she would be obligated to tell the IOA. At most, learning of our legends and beliefs would simply give the IOA reason to become more closely involved with Atlantis.”
They exchanged a look. They knew how well having the IOA more involved would work out for the people of Pegasus.
“Most of Earth doesn’t even know about the gates much less Atlantis.” Ronon’s expression twisted in disgust. “Of the few who come here who respect our traditions, none believe in them. Why would this be any different, especially if it meant changing behavior that most don’t have a problem with?”
Crushing the empty plastic water bottle in his hand, he continued grimly, “I know Earth has its enemies in its own galaxy. What if we told Earthers of the kysra, but they decided to use them for their own benefit? What if they decide that an easy way to defeat their enemies would be to force the kysra to call down the Five6 on their behalf?”
“We would be the ones responsible for giving them the information to enslave the kysra if the Vedaeus chose not to free them. Perhaps the Vedaeus cannot even work in the Milky Way galaxy since they have not done anything to free the kysra until now.” Teyla tilted her head to look up at him and sighed heavily, the weight of the ages upon her shoulders.
Ronon let his head tilt back and thump against the wall. “I don’t think Sheppard would believe me if I told him that all Satedans carried the memory of the creation of the kysra. Even if he did, what could he do? It would just force him into conflict with his own people.”
“I fear you are correct,” Teyla reluctantly agreed. “The legends of the kysra are sacred to all our peoples; more so even than the legends of the so-called Ancestors, and we must protect them, ourselves, and our friends.”
“Yeah, but we have to figure out a way to talk to those we think might be deltas who come to Atlantis. If they really are kysra, then we have to protect them,” Ronon stressed. “The wraith can’t find out kysra are on Earth, or they will be even more determined to find it. I won’t be the one responsible for the death of the kysra in that galaxy.”
Teyla nodded and murmured, “That is the least we can do for the Beloved of the Vedaeus.”
“Starting with Robins.” Ronon sighed and stood, offering her a hand up. “Want to go with me to tell McKay about that military guy first? I figure we can say he was being an ass to one of the scientists.” Ronon’s sharp smile showed almost as many teeth as a wraith did.
Teyla’s laugh was flavored with uncharacteristic malice. “I would love to. It will provide a necessary lesson to one individual and will allow Rodney to direct his current frustrations toward an appropriate target.”
*~*~*~*
Several months later, though Teyla and Ronon had managed to seek out Robins and verify that they zy was a descendant of the stolen kysra of Sateda, nothing had really changed in day-to-day life. Robins had been more freaked out than anything, so they’d eventually decided to stop trying to talk to zyr when it just made zyr more uncomfortable.
Time passed, and while Teyla never forgot that particular discussion with Ronon (How could she when it had changed her entire view of the Alterans?), battles and emergencies forced her to leave it at the back of her mind. She assumed it was much the same for Ronon until they again spoke one morning at the gym.
Ronon had been very distracted of late, so she knew there was something he needed to discuss even if he did not particularly want to. It was possible he was reeling from the discovery and subsequent betrayal of three of his people, but she did not think so. Ronon had spent many weeks trapped in his grief and pain after the incident on the wraith ship, but he had seemed to recover. He was changed, but it would have been impossible not to be changed after such a horrific thing.
Ronon had started to laugh again, and he was back to teasing McKay until the scientist would yell and threaten to shut off his hot water or send him into an unexplored lab and lock the door behind him. John pretended to be irritated with them both, but his shoulders relaxed, as if he too was relieved to see the playful, mischievous Ronon return to them. That was why it was perplexing when Ronon again became more withdrawn and silent. Teyla was determined to find out what was bothering him so she could either help him resolve it or help him bear the weight of it.
“Will you tell me what is really on your mind?” she finally asked when it seemed they would leave without her having helped him at all.
When he eyed her warily, she tilted her head and sighed. “Ronon, you are my friend. I will keep in confidence anything you wish to say.”
“Even from Sheppard and McKay?” he asked.
Her brow furrowed. She couldn’t help being concerned, but she understood that not everything was meant to be shared, despite how they seemed to live in one another’s pockets half the time. There were things she did not share, despite what others might think.
“Yes, even from them.”
Ronon took another gulp of water and wiped his face again before saying, “I want to start a family.”
Teyla blinked in surprise, then smiled in genuine pleasure. “I did not know you had a partner, but I wish you all happiness, Ronon. Is this what caused you to change your hair?”
She just hoped that Ronon had not made his recent, drastic change to his appearance for his partner. Anyone who demanded he change was not worthy of his affection.
Teyla had been shocked when Ronon cut off all his long dreadlocks—a change so extreme that even the least observant had noticed. Now his hair was a little longer than hers and could be tied back or braided easily in a single tail at the nape of his neck. On occasion, he even wore it loose.
“It surprised me to see you after you first cut it. I didn’t realize your hair was so curly and beautiful. Were I a vain woman, I’d be jealous,” she teased.
Ronon grinned at her. “You’re vain about some things—like your abilities as a warrior.”
“Yes, well, I work hard to perfect my skill.” She laughed then. “What is it McKay says? ‘It is not arrogance if it’s true?’”
Ronon snorted. “Maybe, but McKay is arrogant about everything. And no, I didn’t cut off my dreads for anybody. If I’d known how weird people would get, I’d never have done it.”
Teyla nodded, able to understand why he would say such a thing. Even she had not known what to make of the change at first. Sometimes she caught herself searching for Ronon in a room but looking right past him because she had automatically been seeking his distinctive dreadlocks. New arrivals definitely responded to him differently too. She had caught Ronon looking very irritated at their attention several times, especially the less subtle.
Doctor Keller immediately came to mind. Despite being a competent doctor, the young woman was oblivious to the discomfort her inept flirting caused. Dr. Keller might be one of the more irritating, but others who had not previously given Ronon a second glance now wished to gain his attention. She was very glad he had not given his heart to one such as those.
Ronon interrupted her musings. “I don’t have a partner. I cut my hair because of how heavy it got. Finally figured out that was what was making my neck and head hurt all the time. And because, after that desert planet and the sandstorm we got stuck in, I kept finding sand everywhere.” He gave a dismissive shrug and laid the towel around the back of his neck. “It got irritating, and McKay kept screaming at me every time I got close to his computer stuff. He said I was getting sand in it. Probably was. I didn’t want my hair totally gone, but I couldn’t take any more sand either. After I cut my hair, well,” he ran a hand over his stubble, “I figured I might as well.”
“It must have been difficult to make such a change, but I understand why that wretched sand might have been the last straw, as those from Earth say, that prompted you to do so.” Teyla remembered her own struggles after that planet, annoyance flickering over her features. “My hair is not nearly as long as yours was, and I found it a chore to get clean after Sadalis. I underestimated at first and made the mistake of simply stepping into the shower when we returned. I did not realize that the sand changed texture when it became wet. I felt as though I had a mud brick on my head until I swallowed my pride and asked a friend for help. The two of us finally got it cleaned and untangled.”
Ronon grinned. “Kanaan?”
“Perhaps.” Teyla smiled a secretive little smile, not surprised Ronon had figured out her feelings for her childhood friend.
Sliding gracefully to the floor, she began to work through a series of stretches. Ronon was not in a hurry to speak his mind, so she needed to stretch before her muscles tightened painfully. Their sparring match had not gone as long as usual, but she planned to meet with John later in the day. It would not do to make her friend overconfident simply because she was slow and inflexible due to soreness. The wraith never had “off” days.
Ronon followed her lead. It seemed easier for him to talk about stuff when his body was occupied with a task. He’d only recently started staying to cool down with Teyla.
“We spoke of the kysra that time,” Ronon began with unusual hesitance.
“Yes, I recall it well.”
“I don’t know if any of my people are still alive. Even if there are, I follow the ways of the Five. I have to believe that they would want Sateda reborn from one of their kysra.” Ronon went silent and glanced toward her, then away.
Teyla hmm’d thoughtfully. For all that Ronon was a strong fighter, he was remarkably sensitive about certain things. Teyla knew pushing too hard would make him bolt like a tauffen7 from an Athosian hunter, so she stayed silent and waited.
“All the time I spent running from the wraith, I believed I would never have the chance to have a family. My intended died before my eyes the day Sateda fell.”
Teyla’s heart went out to him. “And you did not have time to mourn her—”
“Zyr.”
Ah, that made a great deal of sense. A kysra. “—zyr until you came to Atlantis.” It must have felt like a betrayal to have his love killed and then to come to a city where zyr kind weren’t respected like men and women were. “Now you are no longer a runner and finally can choose to have a family. The kysra live, but not in this galaxy,” Teyla said, immediately seeing the problem.
She stretched forward over her legs, curling her fingers over her toes and leaning forward even more until she could touch her forehead to her knees. The muscles in her lower back and in the backs of her legs ached pleasantly.
“So how will you find and court a kysra from Earth? We agreed that day not to speak of them, even to our friends.”
“I went to Earth with Sheppard to help rescue McKay and his sister,” Ronon told her. “I found out that I can immediately tell who is kysra and who is not. I don’t know why.”
“How remarkable!” Teyla set her left foot flat on the floor just on the outside of her right knee, stretching her hip and side. “I thought they were protected from immediate identification.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re only protected here, or maybe I’m supposed to find a kysra there.” Ronon paused and somewhat reluctantly added, “Honestly, I want it to be the last thing.”
He shook himself and used his left hand to pull his right elbow across his chest. He winced, and she wondered if he’d pulled something in his shoulder. She would ask later. He was prideful, but not stupid. They both knew how dangerous going on a mission with an injury was.
“I’ll figure out a way to go again. I’m not sure how I will find zyr with someone looking over my shoulder the whole time,” he told her.
“Even if you were able to find time alone with zyr, how would you convince zyr to come to Atlantis to bond with you? Are not the Earth people still ignorant of the stargates and people on planets beyond their own?”
Ronon looked away. His cheeks flushed slightly, and Teyla immediately knew the answer was one she would not want to hear.
“I don’t intend to tell zyr.” His chin went up as he met her eyes, his own bright with challenge. “The only way they are going to let me bring back a kysra is if zy is with child. They won’t deny me when I am the last of my people. I don’t know yet how it will work out, but I have to trust my devotion to the Five will be rewarded. They will have to give me the chance, and I will pray the kysra will not hate me when zy finds out I want to bring zyr to a new galaxy.”
Teyla knew she looked as if she’d been hit with a stunner. She attempted to speak several times but was unable to find a single word in her mind.
“Ronon!” she finally exclaimed. “Surely you cannot mean to seduce a kysra! They have such terrible reputations on Earth through no fault of their own. Do you really wish to play into that?”
“No, but what else do you suggest, Teyla?” Ronon’s voice was sharp with frustration. “There are no kysra left on Atlantis since Robins left. If I’d known no others would come, I could have asked zyr to stay, to enter a bond with me until we could decide if we were suited to marriage. But I didn’t.”
“Ronon, by the time either of us knew, zy was already on zyr way back to Earth on the Daedalus.” That had been unfortunate timing all around. Perhaps if Teyla had spoken to zyr more openly… But there was no changing the past, and she suspected Robins had not been of a temperament that would make a good partner for Ronon. “And even the scientists who have come to Atlantis are all male or female. I have tried to pay attention since our last discussion.”
“I know. So I’ll go to Earth and have faith the Vedaeus will provide the right person to return to Atlantis with me.” Ronon sounded determined.
“But once you do, are you not concerned that zy will not be treated well once zy is here?” Oh. Like a light suddenly turning on, Ronon’s decision to confide in her made sense now. She heaved a sigh. “If there is anything I can do to help you, you must know I will. I promise your bondmate will have a friend and confident in me if zy desires.”
“Thank you, Teyla. I’ll owe you.” Ronon’s relaxed noticeably, his stretches becoming deeper and more fluid once he released the tension he’d been carrying all morning. “I’ve been…concerned. I’m not so arrogant,” he shot her a smirk, “to think that I’m the only one zy will need.”
“No, Ronon. There is no debt between friends. You know that.”
When they had finished their stretching, Ronon stood and gave her a hand up, closing with her to lean his forehead against hers. As much as Teyla hoped things turned out the way Ronon was planning, she had none of the Satedan memories and lacked his faith in the Vedaeus. All she could do was support him and his bondmate when, and if, the time came.
Chapter 2
“DiNozzo,” the new director snapped.
“Sir.”
“You’ve been reassigned. Agent Afloat the USS Ronald Regan. Pack your bags. You fly out Monday.”
*~*~*~*
“Gibbs?” Tony called as he descended into his boss’ basement. He felt like he’d had the rug ripped out from under him, and he needed reassurance—and help—from his friend and mentor.
It had been all he could do to bite his tongue and keep his expression neutral instead of lashing out at the asshole who’d come to take Shepard’s place. Though this wouldn’t be the first time someone had been punished for following orders, it sure as hell stung that Vance, the smug, self-righteous asshole that he was, would make his first orders splitting up the MCRT. And exiling Tony.
“Down here, DiNozzo.”
Huh. Tony’s instincts made him pause briefly. There was something off. Gibbs sounded far too calm for a man who’d just lost his team and buried his boss-slash-former lover.
As Tony had half expected, Gibbs was working on his boat.
“Boss.” Tony said as he reached Gibbs’ side. “You’re taking the news better than I thought you would be. Did you know ahead of time?”
“Nope,” he said simply and kept working, his calloused hands guiding the hand plane in smooth, even strokes over the surface of the board he was working on. Tony had seen this scene a hundred times, and he couldn’t help but notice there was a unusual, coiled tenseness in Gibb’s back and shoulders.
Tony ran his fingers through his hair and looked around the basement as if some dark corner held the answer to the right way to draw out Gibbs. It was a futile exercise, and he knew it.
“You can’t be just planning to let him get away with this,” Tony tried again, dropping his hands to his side.
Gibbs didn’t even look up, merely continued to work on his latest creation. “He’s the director. Pretty sure he can do what he wants with the teams.”
Tony snorted incredulously. “You can’t expect me to believe that’s all you’ve got to say about it! If Jenny had tried breaking up the MCRT—”
“Jenny is dead,” Gibbs snapped, finally deigning to look at him.
Tony reared back as if struck. Oh. That. Wow. He hadn’t expected the anger in those cold blue eyes. Anger that was directed at him instead of just in his general direction.
Gibbs abruptly moved to his workbench and tossed down the plane. He dumped out the screws and nails and splashed a finger of his cheap bourbon into the jar he kept there for that purpose.
He didn’t offer it to Tony.
Gibbs knocked it back, and he and Tony stared at each other in a tense stalemate for several seconds.
“Challenging Vance this early in the game would be suicide,” Gibbs finally said. He turned to add another double shot to his jar. “I can’t do anything for you, DiNozzo.”
Tony dropped his gaze to his shoes, wanting to fidget but knowing he should stay still. He supposed Gibbs was right, even if he was being weird and kind of an ass about it. Vance was like some male dog coming in to spray everything in sight and prove his ownership and dominance over all in his territory.
Still, this wasn’t how Tony had thought talking with Gibbs would go at all. Wasn’t Gibbs angry at Vance? Why was all this aggression being aimed at Tony? Was Gibbs blaming him for what happened to Jenny? Had Tony screwed up somewhere else, and that was what Gibbs was pissed about?
Tony told his brain to stop with the rhetorical questions already. He had a better chance of winning the lottery than he did of getting straight answers from Gibbs when the man was in this kind of mood.
“I can’t get stuck on a ship, Boss. I’ll die out there,” he confessed, dropping his gaze, unable to look directly at the man and unwilling to say why he was so sure he wouldn’t make it. “Think Ducky would be willing to protest on medical grounds?”
That actually was a possibility he’d wondered about. Surely putting a plague victim with weak lungs on a perpetually damp ship wasn’t a great idea.
“Ask him, not me.”
The angry, clipped answer made Tony glance up, but Gibbs’ expression was even more inscrutable than usual.
“If Ducky won’t give you an out, are you going to take the assignment or just quit?”
There was a challenge in Gibbs’ tone that Tony didn’t understand.
“Boss, you know me better than that: DiNozzos aren’t quitters.” Tony tried to shoot him one of his trademark, cocky grins, but it came out more a grimace. So much for the humorous approach. “I know going in there like a bull in a china shop would be a bad plan, but do you think you could—”
Blue eyes flashed, “I can’t do anything for you. Besides, I’d think an Agent Afloat assignment would be right up your alley.”
Tony blinked. “What? Since when?”
Gibbs glared at him coldly. “You know, a different rented convertible and a different woman in every port, and you get to walk away at the end. You’re good at that. Walking away.”
Okay, what the fuck?
“You’d be long gone before you had to deal with any consequences too,” Gibbs continued relentlessly. He gestured vaguely with his drink. “You sure as hell don’t seem worried about how your actions affect others around here.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Boss,” Tony said, genuinely confused. What the hell? Was Gibbs blaming him for Jenny’s death? Sure, his negligence played a part, but he had been following orders.
Gibb’s laugh was as cold as ice; his eyes twice as hard.
“Of course not.” He raised the jar and swallowed half of what he’d poured, all without taking his eyes off Tony. “I’ve been told about what went on while I was in Mexico. Of course, I had a feeling from the way the team fell apart that something more had been going on than what I’d been told…and what’s been going on since then.”
Wait a minute. How many times had he and Gibbs used this tactic—imply you know something and let the suspect convict himself through denial of a specific—on people to get them to confess? And since when had this become an interrogation?
Tony watched and waited, not willing to open his mouth until Gibbs gave him an indication of what, exactly, he was accusing him of.
Gibbs shook his head and barked mirthless laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t think that’d getcha, but ya can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”
“It’d help if I knew what I was supposed to be confessing to, or alternately defending myself against,” Tony finally said warily. Unable to move toward Gibbs and unwilling to retreat, he shifted nervously in place.
Another silent standoff, and Tony was starting to feel like it was high noon at the O.K. Corral. Too bad he’d left his six-shooter in his other dueling holster.
“Let’s just say I got a new perspective on some things I’ve been wondering about for a while.”
Tony’s temper flared. A new perspective on what?
“Never mind,” Gibbs tossed back the last of his bourbon. He thumped the jar onto the bench and then crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, if you really wanted out of the agent afloat assignment, all you’d have to do would be take responsibility for your actions here. Can’t ship off a married man without the spouse’s agreement, and courthouses are still open until five.”
“What the hell, Gibbs?!” Tony finally snapped with a flailing gesture. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“I’m talking about Ziva, DiNozzo!” Gibbs snarled.
“What does my assignment have to do with Ziva? I thought she was going back to Israel!”
Gibbs practically came unglued. “She is! And you know damned well she doesn’t want to, but you’re not going to man-up and do what it takes to keep her here. She’s good enough for you to seduce and break Rule 12 with when I wasn’t here to protect her, but you’re not going to do a thing for her now?!”
Tony’s jaw dropped.
“Are you insane?” he yelled. “I have never broken Rule 12, and certainly not with Ziva David! I don’t know who told you that, but they’re either lying or crazy!”
For the first time in all the years they’d worked together, Tony really thought Gibbs was going to lose it and punch him in the face. He flinched, ready to take the hit.
Gibbs’ face twisted, and he picked up the jar he’d been drinking from and whipped it at the wall. Glass shattered and dropped to the cement floor.
“Dammit, DiNozzo!” Gibbs yelled. “Ziva told me herself! I knew you’d been lording your authority over the team and trying to do it to Abby while I was gone, but I didn’t know you’d actually managed to seduce Ziva. If I had…” He trailed off, letting Tony fill in the consequences for himself.
Tony shook his head and made negating motions with his hands. “No. No fucking way, Gibbs! I didn’t lord anything over anybody! In fact, I was working my job, their jobs (which they refused to do part of the time and didn’t show up for half of the rest), and working The Frog undercover op for the director. I didn’t have time to sleep except a couple hours a night while I was sitting at my own goddamned desk!”
Tony was so far beyond furious that he was pretty sure his brain was going to explode Mt. Vesuvius style pretty soon. He’d worked himself to death trying to keep the team together until Gibbs got back because they all knew he would be back after he’d finished his tantrum down in the land of cervezas and sunshine.
“And I’ll say it again: I have never ever in my entire life fucked someone I worked with. People might think I’m a dog, but I have more integrity than that!” He snorted and shook his head. “Besides, if I were gonna break Rule 12, it’d be a hell of a lot more likely that I’d break it for you, and I wouldn’t do that because I’d be too terrified I’d get knocked up, and—”
Tony stopped mid-sentence, suddenly aware of what he’d just said. He watched, wide-eyed as Gibbs’ face went red then white in fury. Oh shit. There were no words for how epically bad this was going to be. Well, this was actually what he wanted to talk to Gibbs about, but not like this. Even his brain hadn’t come up with this worst-case scenario. He was dead.
*~*~*~*
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Specialist Dex.” Lt. Colonel Freemont frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I understand your desire to experience Earth culture, but I’m not comfortable sending you to the planet alone.”
Ronon tucked both hands in the pockets of his Earth trousers and pressed his arms to his sides. He slouched, purposely making himself as nonthreatening as possible. Well, as nonthreatening as it was possible for a 6’5” warrior to be.
“Why? I was gonna have Sheppard come with me, but he went to see his brother. Don’t think anybody else wants to hang out with me and watch that thing. Cable TV.”
Though he would not wish the death of a parent on anyone, he couldn’t help but be grateful for the opportunity to travel to Earth with Sheppard. His discussion with Teyla felt like it had happened too long ago, and he was being driven to search out his kysra. He’d been dreaming the memory of the Old Ones creating Kysra every night for weeks. He was going to go crazy at this rate. Crazier. Whatever.
Freemont’s second, Major Wu, gave him an incredulous look. “Surely there are enough movies on the Atlantis server.”
Ronon ignored Major Wu to answer Freemont. Freemont was the one with the power to grant his request, not Wu.
“I’ve seen plenty of movies. I wanna watch cable TV. And sit in a warmtub.” Ronon crossed his arms and gave them a smirk. “I’m gonna order room service.”
Hopefully this would be one of those times that the Earthers would forget Ronon had been educated in more than the art of war on Sateda. He put a good amount of effort into keeping people from knowing the truth. He was certain Sheppard did the same thing to keep people from seeing how smart he was. Ronon figured Sheppard would understand if he suspected Ronon was more than he pretended. Ronon knew Teyla suspected, but she kept it to herself, even if she did side-eye him at times when he was on the edge of going too far with playing stupid. McKay, well, everyone was stupid compared to McKay. Ronon really didn’t understand most of the science McKay talked about, so McKay would never care about Ronon’s intellect in other areas.
If the flicker of amusement on Lt. Colonel Freemont’s face and the way he turned away to rub his hand over his mouth was any indication, he was buying the “stupid alien” routine.
Huh. Maybe Sateda’s Five were with Ronon even in the Milky Way.
“Hot tub,” the Colonel corrected. He and Wu stared at each other for a while. Ronon was perfectly aware that they were communicating, but he didn’t know either well enough to anticipate which way they would go.
“The Adams Hotel, sir,” Wu suggested, albeit reluctantly. “They have excellent security, and someone could go with him to check in. Get him a room with a nice view, a big bathtub, and a TV.” Wu shrugged. “No one would know anything about it.”
“Until the government got the bill,” Freemont reminded him with a wry look.
“He is one of the last surviving member of his planet, sir, and the only one who is allied with Atlantis.” Wu pointed out. “We could say he’s an ambassador. We’ve certainly footed the bill for allied dignitaries before.”
Ronon ducked his head, trying to keep his expression neutral. It appeared Major Wu had decided which way he was going to jump and was going to do all Ronon’s work for him. He wasn’t “stupid alien” enough to fight that.
Freemont and Wu looked at each other some more before Freemont sighed loudly. “Alright, Wu. You make the reservation, set it up so everything is billed to his room in case he accidentally wanders into the spa or the bar,” he pinned Ronon with warning glare, “and go with him to get him checked in. Make sure they know he is a foreign dignitary who is unfamiliar with American idioms and customs just in case.”
Perfect. Tell them he’s an idiot. The people there had probably worked with worse. After all, they had to deal with politicians on a daily basis. Politicians were wraith-fuckers no matter what planet they were on.
Lt. Colonel Freemont turned to Ronon. “And you. Absolutely no visible weapons. Leave the gun on the ship, and try not to make me regret this. If Ellis comes down on me, I’m going to come down on you, got it?”
Ronon grinned. “Yup.”
He knew he would probably get Freemont in trouble, but it would be worth it to bring a life-bringer back to Pegasus. A life-bringer with Ronon’s baby already cradled safely within zyr womb.
“Major? Make sure he has luggage. No one is going to believe he’s a dignitary without at least one suitcase.”
Ronon was a little surprised at how well that had gone. Ignoring Freemont’s griping about how at least “the caveman” had cut his hair so he didn’t look like such an uncivilized bastard anymore, Ronon followed Wu to find out what he’d need to blend in for this particular hunt.
*~*~*~*
Ducky hadn’t picked up his phone. Paranoia said he was avoiding Tony so he wouldn’t have to refuse to give him a medical waiver. Logic said he was just busy doing something for his mother and didn’t have his phone with him. Tony hadn’t quite been able to believe Logic, especially if Ziva had been feeding Ducky the same bullshit story she’d fed to Gibbs. Tony had tried Brad, but he was apparently at some medical something-or-other in South Africa and wouldn’t be back for another month.
Tony finally had to admit he was out of options. He seriously considered resigning until he remembered something that Gibbs had said during his rant: Tony couldn’t be assigned as Agent Afloat if he was married. It occurred to him that marriage wasn’t the only circumstance that would excuse him from AA duty. There was one other possibility. It was a Hail Mary play, but it was possible. He could use that part of his biology he’d hated since he’d understood what it meant to be a delt. He could get pregnant.
Tony debated about it while he showered, only making a final decision as he dressed. He slid on a pair of expensive jeans that hugged his ass just right, and a pristine, white dress shirt that would go under his favorite navy jacket. He’d always thought the combination made his eyes look especially green. His favorite Bulova watch went on his wrist. It wasn’t his most expensive (that’d be the Cartier), but it was the one he wore when he needed good luck. Whatever gods cared about delts knew that Tony would need all the help he could get. Hopefully, they were listening tonight.
“’Luck, if you’ve ever been a lady to begin with…’” he sang softly as he finished getting ready. If only luck could be guaranteed so easily. Somehow he doubted a little singing and dancing would do the trick for him. “’Luck be a lady tonight.’”
Tony could have gone to a club where he would be sure to find someone either interested enough or drunk enough to want to fuck him. But it hit him that he’d be fucking bare for the first time ever, and he definitely wanted a good look at the—ah—merchandise to make sure there weren’t any visible signs of STI. He wasn’t that stupid. Yeah, he planned to ask before he let the guy take a ride, but people were liars…especially XYs looking to get laid.
Also, Tony wanted a sperm donor with more than two brain cells to rub together. Even if Einstein Jr. were at the club, Tony doubted they’d be able to have much of a conversation someplace where the music was so loud the walls throbbed with the beat. If the pregnancy had to be the product of a one-night stand, Tony should at least have DNA from someone he knew was capable of coherent conversation.
Tony rolled his eyes and took his shirt back off when he realized he hadn’t done anything with his hair yet. He didn’t plan to do much but put a little product in it to control it, but he didn’t want that sticky goop on his shirt either.
While he styled the short, rebellious cowlick at his crown, he considered just going to an upscale jazz club he liked. Unfortunately, there were problems with that place too. Namely, he didn’t want to chance picking a local and running into the guy again. Tony wanted DNA, not commitment.
“If I don’t want to see him again, I need to make sure he’s from out of town. Way out of town,” Tony grumbled, giving up on that damned cowlick and going back into his bedroom for his shirt.
Out of town. Huh.
“Hey, what about the Adams?” he asked his reflection in the full-length mirror.
The Adams Hotel catered to the rich and elite of the world. More importantly, it catered to international businessmen who would be around for a few days at most before they jetted off without a thought for the stupid delt they’d fucked and left behind. As much as he needed this to happen, Tony didn’t want to find himself tied to a virtual stranger for life.
He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that the man he chose might be cheating on his spouse, but he ruthlessly suppressed it. He would avoid those who were obviously married, but he wasn’t giving up his plan. He’d also have to be careful to choose someone who was young enough that it was unlikely he’d had a vasectomy. Asking would be awkward and suspicious.
The ride in the cab he’d called unfortunately gave Tony enough time to think and to let himself feel the hurt Gibbs had caused. His heart ached knowing there’d never be a chance at having Gibbs included in his family. Seeing how good Gibbs was with kids way back when Tony had started at NCIS had made Tony consider for that he might want to have kids who grew up learning woodwork from their Uncle Gibbs. That would never happen now. Hell, if things went according to plan, Tony would never see the man again much less work with him. Gibbs had been very clear that he’d never forgive Tony for “lying about being a real man.” In his boss’ mind, lying for years about that meant he was lying about breaking Rule 12 with Ziva too.
Tony hadn’t gotten past revealing he was a delta—an XYD—and Gibbs had blown up. For a functional mute, the bastard sure could yell. Tony had been so shocked that he’d just stood there and taken it. Oh, he’d certainly seen hints of that Gibbs, but never aimed at him. Tony hadn’t had a clue previously about Gibbs’ prejudice. Even if he had, nothing could have prepared him for the pure venom his boss had unleashed on him. By the end of that encounter, he’d found out it really was the end of it all, of everything.
“Get out.” The order was so loud it made Tony’s ears ring.
“What?”
“You deaf now, DiNozzo? Get the hell out of my house!”
“Get out. That’s all you’re going to say? We’ve worked together for years. We’ve had each other’s sixes, trusted each other—"
“And you were lying to me the whole time!” Gibbs snarled. “I hired a man, not a mutation, a genetic mistake. Wouldn’t have brought you here from Baltimore if I’d known. Did Ziva even know what you were when you slimed your way into her bed?” Gibbs made a disgusted noise. “No. No way. I won’t have you on my team now, even if Vance doesn’t ship your ass out to sea.”
“Boss,” Tony whispered, his chest hurting worse than anything that had landed him in the hospital. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
A mutant? A genetic mistake? That was what the diehard haters called delts. They were the ones who advocated prenatal genetic testing and mandatory abortion of all delts. To hear that phrase from Gibbs killed something in him.
“Not your boss, DiNozzo.” Gibbs went back to his booze and sloshed more into his spare jar, since the first one was in pieces on the floor. “Not going to repeat myself either. I’ll take care of Ziva. Lock the door on your way out.”
Gibbs hadn’t turned back around, and Tony hadn’t known what else to do. He was a fighter, but how much could you fight when you knew the war was over? Tony had walked away from a dead friendship almost ready to just give in and do his duty to his assignment.
Duty, ha! Punishment was more like it. But that didn’t really matter anymore, did it? He’d admired and respected Gibbs for years, even those days when he didn’t like the man very much. Unfortunately, Gibbs had made it abundantly clear that Tony had burned his bridges with a single sentence. Even if Vance were willing to put him back on the MCRT eventually, Tony wouldn’t go. He refused to work with someone who hated him for his biology. Not to mention that Tony couldn’t trust Gibbs on his six. Not anymore.
Being XYD didn’t change who he was fundamentally. It didn’t change all the years he’d spent serving and protecting people and solving crimes. Why was it okay for him to brag about his dates and flirt with every female in sight during that time, but his behavior became shameful evidence of a genetic aberration and morally perverse nature once Gibbs found out Tony was a delta? An XY could fuck a hundred women, but let a delta smile, and they were out to infect “real people” with their corrupt genetics.
The double standard sucked, and it would be much, much worse on a ship with 97% XY males. Shit, delts didn’t even try to get into the armed forces anymore. There had been too many cases of hazing that had led to death for anyone to want to try. He wouldn’t, couldn’t be trapped aboard a ship as an Agent Afloat. A delta cop on a ship of 5,000 who would hate him for one reason if not the other? No way. Tony might be crazy occasionally, but he wasn’t suicidal. He really would quit if that was his only option.
If his plan tonight worked, he’d be outed at NCIS, which would make his life more difficult; however, Tony didn’t want to give up everything he’d worked so hard for. Also, if he quit, that ass Vance would win, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. No, Tony planned to be the reason Vance choked on his damned toothpick.
Delts might not have the same rights as men and women, but pregnant delts…well, once hired, a delt who became pregnant could not be terminated from employment during the pregnancy. Nor could they be coerced into taking an assignment away from their obstetrician, which meant NCIS couldn’t just assign him as Agent Afloat. The laws had at least improved that much.
So. Tony would get pregnant. Delta-freaky fertility guaranteed it could happen in a night or two, which was good since a night or two was all he had. Then he would tell Vance and watch his head explode. Vance wouldn’t be able to assign him away from an OB, so Tony wouldn’t have to leave D.C. Vance didn’t need to know when he’d gotten pregnant, just that he was.
The all-knowing, LeRoy Jethro Gibbs wasn’t likely to tell anyone that his SFA of nearly five years had managed to pull the wool over his eyes, so he’d have to pretend he’d known Tony was a delt. Gibbs could hate him all he wanted in private (and he would, no doubt about it), but he wouldn’t let it get out. It supposedly wasn’t politically correct to hate deltas anymore, so if pride didn’t keep Gibbs’ mouth shut for the first reason, it would for the second. It was the perfect solution.
Ok, well. Maybe not perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than anything else he could think of. As exhausted and emotionally wrecked as he’d been for months on end, it was a wonder he could string two thoughts together.
The cab rolled to a stop. Tony took a deep breath and pushed down the hurt and shame with efficiency born from decades of practice. He couldn’t believe he’d spent the entire trip letting himself have a private pity party. Ridiculous. He’d save the pity party for after he was sure he was knocked up.
Tony paid the driver and made his way into the hotel bar, automatically checking his pockets to make sure he had his phone and his keys. He chose a stool at the dimmer side of the bar itself, just a few seats away from the wall. It was early yet, and he wanted to be able to watch the patrons before he made any decisions.
“What can I get you?” the bartender, a dark-haired man in his late twenties, asked with a polite smile.
“A Mulligan for the entire day?” Tony flashed a well-practiced charming-yet-weary grin and watched in satisfaction as the bartender’s smile became sympathetic. “No, really, I’d love to see your wine list, uh…”
“Of course, and I’m Andrew,” he replied easily, quickly producing the requested list. “There’s nothing better than a good wine at the end of a bad day, and it sounds like you’ve had that.”
Tony had to stop himself from making a rude noise. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”
He quickly read through the list and was happy to see something familiar.
“Normally I’m more adventurous, but I think I’ll stick with something reliable tonight.” Tony handed the list back. “A glass of the 2007 Tenuta dell’Ornellaia Masseto Toscana, please. I’ve had it a few times now, and it’s been very good every time.”
The bartender gave him a brief nod, taking the list. “That’s a great wine—one of the best on the list, in my opinion,” he said. “I’ve never run into a bad bottle.”
Tony was glad his selection had gotten that reaction. It certainly wasn’t the most expensive wine on the list, but it really was one of his favorites. He actually had two bottles at home that he was hoping to hold onto for a few years to see how they aged.
Back with the bottle less than a minute later, Andrew opened and poured. Tony purposely picked up the glass with his right hand, which gave him a chance to make sure the bartender saw his unmarked inner wrist.
Delts were marked at birth with the distinctive five-dot pattern that looked like the fifth face of a die, so most people automatically looked for that. Tony was running a tab instead of adding to his room bill, so he was going to be watched anyway. If he’d had the delt mark, he certainly would have been suspected of being a prostitute and asked to leave. Luckily, marking hadn’t been required when he’d been born. It wasn’t until the big DNA registration push had happened that states started requiring delta infants to be marked. Almost every delt born after 1988 had the fiver, as it was called.
Swirling the inky, purple-black wine gently, Tony smelled it and smiled. The first taste was exactly right: rich, fruity, and spicy with dark chocolate hints.
“Perfect, thank you, Andrew.” Tony tilted the glass in a mock toast. “To reliability.”
Andrew smiled, tiny wrinkles forming at the outside corners of his brown eyes. “I’ll keep the bottle handy if you want another glass, sir.”
That had gone well. A little innocent flirting with the bartender got the man to let his guard down so he wouldn’t be as watchful and would be far less likely to have security check him. Getting kicked out was not part of the plan, and he only had two nights at most to do this. It was a damned good thing delts could “catch” so easily and knew within hours if they had. Because of stupid fucking Vance, there wasn’t time for anything like waiting two weeks and confirming with a doctor.
Tony took another sip, and the wine slid down smoothly all the way to his stomach. He looked down and methodically flattened out the napkin he hadn’t realized he’d crushed in his fist. He needed to chill out. It wasn’t like he’d never been fucked before, just rarely and never bare. Though if he were honest with himself, it had been so long since he’d let anyone do that to him that he might as well be a virgin.
Women reacted better than men to finding out he was a delt. Probably because they had their own birth control methods as well as the condoms Tony always brought. No birth control designed for XX females worked for XYDs. Pharmaceutical companies weren’t interested in wasting money trying to find birth control medications for people who were promiscuous and probably not smart enough or responsible enough to take the medication correctly.
At least, that was the impression most of society had. The reality had more to do with improper testing and lawsuits that broke more than one company.
Still, it meant that any male who fucked a delt without a condom had better be prepared for a kid. At least the DNA registration push had made it impossible for a man to deny he was the father. All the delt had to do was request the baby’s DNA be run through the national database. Deadbeat dads were finally a thing of the past.
As Tony had heard a disgruntled marine from Montana put it, ‘If ya wanna ride cowboy, ya better be prepared to buy the damned horse.”
Was it any wonder then that almost all XY men tended to run from anyone whose chances of getting pregnant were in the 98th percentile if the condom broke? Better to stay away from “breeders” lest they be trapped by paternity suits and twenty-one years of child support payments. To Tony, it seemed strange that they were willing to trust condoms to prevent STIs, but not paternity suits.
Personally, Tony thought a lot of XYs were unbelievably selfish lovers. In his experience, men didn’t think it counted as sex unless they could stick their dick in someone to get off, and they weren’t all that concerned about making sure their partner enjoyed it either. Maybe that was why Tony never had a problem getting a date. He was perfectly happy with a handjob or blowjob, and he was definitely willing to reciprocate. Well, that and he always treated his partners with respect no matter what did or didn’t happen in the bedroom.
The only time Tony had been with XYs was just after Wendy had ripped out his heart. That made it what, six or seven years ago? The sex hadn’t been good, much less great, making it easy to give it up and pass as a straight male. How ironic that he was looking for a man to fuck him after his heart had been ripped out yet again. It was in a different way, sure, but having his perceived family ripped away from him hurt just the same.
Huh. Gibbs was all about loyalty, “no such thing as an ex-Marine,” and “never leave a man behind.” But only while it suited him. Gibbs had ripped into Tony before, but it had never been like today. After today, Tony had to question why he’d been the loyal St. Bernard so long. Was it really because he felt that close to Gibbs, or was Tony infatuated with the idea of his boss being a surrogate family because Gibbs had been the only one to tell him he was worth anything? Either way, Tony couldn’t respect or follow a man who was that hateful toward more than 2% of the population based on their genetics, could he?
Oh, 2% might not sound like much, but the world population was 6.7 billion. Two percent of that was 134 million delts, 6.1 million in the US alone. That was a hell of a lot of people to hate over something they have no control over. Even the “corrective” surgeries out there weren’t going to “fix” their DNA. Tony didn’t have much hope that Gibbs would change his mind any time soon, either.
Tony finished the last of his wine and signaled the bartender for another. Thinking about the past was a waste of time. There were way more people in the bar now, and it was time to start looking for the right walking sperm bank.
“On it, Boss,” he mumbled bitterly.
Chapter 3
Ronon wasn’t positive he would find the kysra he was looking for, but he’d seen plenty of Earther movies (not including the porn he’d accidentally found on the server that one time before McKay cleaned it off and screamed at everyone for days on end) that said it should be possible. Ronon also needed zyr to conceive that night, which shouldn’t be a problem. From what he figured out, Earther kysra couldn’t control conception like Satedan kysra could.
Ronon couldn’t dwell on that, though, because it proved the accounts of genetic experimentation and manipulation by the Alterans were true. After their memory of the creation of the kysra had become active, all Satedans were required to learn about how the Alterans had pretended to befriend the Satedans and instead had stolen their people, their kysra. Everyone read an edited version of the account from the kysra who escaped.
Ronon had been required to read the unedited records once Melena had agreed to marry him. At nineteen, he had been considered a man, but the torture inflicted on the stolen kysra had made him shake, had made him physically sick. If he had to choose, Ronon would prefer to be a captive of the wraith than of the Alterans.
He felt some guilt that he was going to use the genetic modification the Alterans had forced on Earther kysra to his advantage. He didn’t feel guilty enough to give up his task; he was determined to see the kysra return to Pegasus. He just had to figure out who was the right kysra when he met zyr.
He made his way into the hotel bar, irritated that he was getting there so late. By the time Wu had gotten everything arranged and Ronon into the room, it was only an hour to midnight. That left Ronon very little time to find his kysra, if there even were any. He had to remember that nothing was guaranteed. He hoped the Five were with him, but he couldn’t know for sure.
Relieved to see the bar very full, Ronon noted distractedly that it looked exactly like he expected except for a lot more bottles of brightly colored liquor on the wall behind the bartender. Seriously. A lot more. He hadn’t even known it was possible to make that many kinds of liquor and in so many strange colors. He’d have been tempted to experiment if he hadn’t had another outcome in mind.
Despite being so busy, the large room was comfortably cool and dim. Most of the Earthers were wearing suits or what Sheppard had called a dress shirt and dress pants. Ronon’s trousers weren’t the same material as theirs, but they were dark. He figured he fit in well enough.
Very few people looked up as Ronon moved up to the bar. Of those who did, only one gave him more than a second glance. He carefully pretended not to notice the not-so-subtle appraisal from the individual sitting at the more shadowed end of the bar. It made him curious, curious enough to choose the only open stool only next to him—no, zyr.
Ronon’s heart skipped a beat before returning to normal.
There was an unused napkin still on the bar directly in front of him, so the seat hadn’t been empty long. Not surprising. The kysra was handsome. Just the thought of zyr in his bed had Ronon’s body interested. He certainly wasn’t the only one who was imagining being with zyr. The man on the other side of zyr had said something, gaining zyr attention, so Ronon ordered a drink from the bartender and watched them out of the corner of his eye while he used the reflections on various surfaces to study the others in the bar.
He quickly came to the conclusion that there were only two kysra there: one far too young, and the alluring kysra who’d had his attention from the moment he’d walked in. He’d thought there would be more. The movies certainly had made it seem like kysra were more common in bars than tava beans in Atlantis.
In a way, it was a relief to find the movies so wrong. It made figuring out which kysra was meant to be his much easier. Since he was sure the Vedaeus wouldn’t give him a young thing whose giggles grated in his ears, the kysra to his right had to be the one. With the kysra’s short hair and distinctly masculine clothing, zy appeared to be “passing” (an Earther term Ronon had learned from Sheppard) as a male.
Clothes were just coverings and hair was just hair, but Earthers made arbitrary rules about which gender wore what and cut their hair which way. Ronon didn’t quite get it. When his hair had been long, twisted into thick locks and his beard had been wild and untamed, he’d been the same man that he was now that his hair was shorter and his facial hair shaved much closer. His body parts hadn’t changed, nor had anything else.
He figured it was another of those things that made Earthers weird. Well, maybe not just Earthers. There were plenty of planets in Pegasus where females were treated as lesser. He thought they were stupid too, and most of the time he sat back and laughed while Teyla kicked their asses. But none of his thoughts on the stupid peoples of the galaxies was going to win the kysra’s attention.
“His” kysra looked decidedly annoyed when zy turned zyr head forward again. Zy set zyr forearm on the bar, blocking any further attempts from the man at zyr right. Good. No competition there.
When zyr glanced to zyr left Ronon purposely let his eyes connect with zyrs. Once he had, he gave a zyr slow smile. All irritation vanished behind a mask, and zy dropped zyr gaze to zyr drink, smiling a little. Curious. His kysra was playing at being interested. Zy might actually be interested, but there was something else going on too.
Well, Ronon had been a warrior and a hunter all his life. He didn’t mind putting effort into the chase. Actually, he liked the chase. He had to stop himself from grinning.
Ronon was admittedly a larger than average man at 6’5”, but his kysra wasn’t exactly small. Sitting so close meant their shoulders touched, and their knees brushed even though they were keeping to their own space as much as possible. All Ronon had to do was put less effort into controlling his limbs, and his knee was pressed against zyrs, their shoulders brushing.
“Hi.”
Zy turned, not at all surprised to have him talk to zyr. Zy straightened and smiled the way Sheppard did when he was talking to IOA members. Understandable if zy had been chased a lot tonight. Even the sleekest, fastest meura8 didn’t want to run all the time.
“Hello. Tony,” zy offered with a small nod.
Ronon gave his own name and smiled slightly. Tony’s voice was as appealing as the rest of zyr. He was hoping this really was the one the Old Ones meant for him. There was something about zyr, something that attracted him beyond the physical, though zy was very beautiful.
Zy was definitely a few inches shorter that Ronon was, but not so much he’d have to break his neck to kiss zyr. Zy had light brown hair and light eyes. Though the room was too dim to tell for sure, he thought they might be green, which pleased him too.
The only thing he would have changed about Melena had been zyr brown eyes. Kysra looks tended to run true in their children, and Ronon very much wanted a child with green eyes like his sister’s had been. Though if zy agreed, Ronon certainly wouldn’t object to having several children. Maybe one of those could have his darker coloring instead of zyr’s.
Ronon rested his left arm on the bar, dropping his gaze briefly to the liquor he was casually swirling in his glass.
He was nervous, which he hadn’t anticipated. He was here, and he finally had a chance to coax his kysra into his arms and his bed. He found himself sending up a plea: ‘Old Ones, don’t let me blow it.’
He let Tony drink and study him. He had the feeling he’d make zyr nervous if he went after zyr blatantly. Okay. He’d tamed the most skittish of a nidos9 of meura once. He’d spent hours simply sitting still and accustoming the meura to his presence, then to his voice before it had allowed him to get anywhere near it. He’d wait and let Tony do the same.
Just a few moments later, it paid off.
“So what has you in our not-so-fair city: business or pleasure?”
Ronon set his empty glass carefully on the white paper napkin he’d been provided. “Both.” He shot Tony a mischievous smile. “Neither.” He was curious to see how zy took that.
Tony smirked. “Sounds confusing. Or maybe you’re just confused.”
Ronon explained, “A friend, well, someone I work with too, needed me here earlier this week, but now the situation has been taken care of.”
Tony arched a brow. “And where is this friend-slash-coworker now?”
Zyr tone was teasing, but Ronon knew what zy was really asking.
“He’s got his family to deal with, and he didn’t need me for that.”
“Nor did you want to get involved,” zy said confidently, eyes bright with suppressed amusement.
“I’m sure his family is great, but I’m good with not being needed.”
Ronon thought Teyla would be proud of his diplomatic answer. Well, less abrasively honest answer anyway. Unless Sheppard wanted him to kick his brother’s ass, there wasn’t much he could do for his friend. (He would have happily kicked the ass of Daffy or Davy or whatever-his-name-was, but Sheppard had said no and left Ronon on the Apollo when he went back to see him.)
“I see,” Tony said nodded. “So you’re at loose ends.”
“For now,” Ronon agreed.
Ronon wondered where the bartender had gone. He had to admit he was enjoying the smooth taste of whatever he’d been served. Zelenka’s vodka from the still everybody pretended not to know about wasn’t nearly this good. McKay had made fun of Zelenka for harassing the botanists into growing earth potatoes. He’d stopped when Zelenka had seven different people drop off a full pound of Earth coffee when the last Daedalus shipment arrived. Two more people had brought bags of chocolate things called Milky Way. Ronon had stolen a few of the little bars and liked them a lot. Too bad Zelenka was getting sneakier about hiding them.
Tony sipped zyr wine, still watching Ronon but less wary than zy had been. At least zyr curiosity was enough to keep talking, anyway.
“What about you? Business or pleasure?”
Tony shot Ronon a flirty look from under zyr lashes and smirked. “Business, definitely. Pleasure…” zy paused, blatantly looking Ronon up and down, “…maybe.”
Ronon knew this was unwise at this point, but he couldn’t help himself. “I have a very nice room here,” he suggested lowly. “I would love to help you with the pleasure part. If you’re interested.”
Tony looked away and zyr shoulders tensed again. Damn. Zy hadn’t been prepared for an aggressive response. That, or zy had already heard too many lines like that tonight.
Patience, he reminded himself. Like a skittish meura, Tony had offered bait. It was a suggestive look instead of a tufted tail, but the result was the same. Try to grab the tuft, and you’ll get stung and scare off the meura; verbally grab the kysra, and you’ll scare zyr off too.
“Hmm… Not ready to leave just yet,” Tony murmured, looking distractedly at the liquor wall. “I definitely don’t know you well enough to go anywhere with you.”
“Alright,” Ronon accepted without question. Tony’s metaphorical tail was curled back around zyr, tuft totally hidden. ‘Back off, Dex. Give zyr time.’
They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. Ronon figured it was a good idea to let Tony get comfortable with him in zyr space again. It wasn’t until Ronon noted Tony’s glass was empty that he made another move.
He finished the last of his own and signaled the bartender, who brought the correct bottles and filled both their glasses. Once he’d left, Ronon made a second try, though he moved back to safe ground by commenting on the seemingly endless variety of liquor he’d noticed earlier.
“They do have a decent selection here.” Tony’s head tilted, curiosity back in zyr expression. “Not like that where you’re from?”
“No,” Ronon shook his head, again thinking of Zelenka’s home-brewed vodka. “Not even close.”
“Well, you’ve got good taste. That vodka you’re drinking—Imperial Collection Super Premium—is a couple grand per bottle, easy.”
Ronon didn’t need to be an Earther to know that was a lot of money. Just the way Tony said it told him. That was an interesting piece of information, though. Tony either had money or spent a lot of time with people who did.
“Nah, I just told the bartender I like vodka and not to give me the cheap crap.”
Tony let out a single, startled laugh.
“What?” Ronon teased with a slight smile. “Are you surprised I didn’t know what it was, or that I didn’t pretend to know when I really didn’t?”
“Both,” Tony admitted, zyr expression more open and relaxed.
Ronon just grinned.
“You must not be paying the bill then,” Tony stated after another, shorter silence.
“Nope.”
Tony raised a brow. “You have one hell of a good friend.”
Ronon chuckled. “Yes, but he’s not paying either. Your government let me come with my friend and is paying for my room while I’m on my own. I’m sure I will be on my way home tomorrow.”
Both Tony’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How’d you manage that? The US government isn’t exactly known for its generosity.”
Ronon shrugged one shoulder. “I’m part of an alliance; I’m an ambassador or something like that. They said something about having taken care of the bill for visiting dignitaries before.”
Tony looked intrigued. “Really? You must be close to a military base, and you speak English extremely well, but I don’t recognize your accent.” Zy leaned closer as if zy were confessing, “I’m usually pretty good at that sort of thing too.”
So the tufted tail makes a second appearance, Ronon thought, amused. He would be smarter about it this time.
“Nah, you wouldn’t.” Ronon leaned close too and murmured mischievously, “I’m from ‘a galaxy far, far away.’”
Sheppard had said everyone on Earth knew that reference. Hopefully Tony would get it too. Come closer, pretty meura. I promise to pet your fur just right.
Tony lit up and angled on zyr stool to face Ronon instead of the bar. “Ah, Star Wars! The epic creation of George Lucas. I take it you’re a fan?”
“Yeah, of the first three. That next one, the something Menace, I think it was?”
Tony nodded.
“The only menace in that was that terrible Jar Head thing.” Ronon made a disgusted noise. “I kept hoping it would die.”
A burst of honest laughter escaped Tony. “I think you mean Jar Jar Binks.” Zy cleared zyr throat, trying to suppress zyr laughter. “A jarhead is either an insult or a nickname for someone in the US Marine Corps. Which one depends on who’s saying it.”
Ronon’s lips curled in amusement at his mistake, but he mostly was transfixed by Tony. He stared as zy laughed, and a wave of warm want traveled through him for the first time since the wraith destroyed Sateda. Zy was a beautiful person without doing anything, but seeing zyr laugh roused in him protective and possessive instincts he’d thought long dead. He wanted to be the one to make zyr laugh like that the rest of their lives.
It occurred to him that this was the first time he’d thought of wanting Tony rather than wanting a kysra.
Tony was still chuckling helplessly. Then zy cleared zyr throat again, flushing a little when zy noticed the interest of the other people. Zy succeeded this time at stopping the laughter, though zy was still smiling, and zyr eyes gleamed with delight.
“You must live near a Marine base.”
He shouldn’t say anything yet, but he knew he was taking Tony back to Atlantis if at all possible.
“Very,” he agreed with a nod.
“Huh,” Tony grinned. “But you’re going to make me guess where, is that it?” Zy turned fully toward Ronon and now studied him. “And what’s my prize if I get it right?”
“Anything you want,” Ronon retorted immediately, making Tony raise zyr eyebrows and grin again.
“Oh really? Anything, huh?” Tony studied him with narrowed eyes. “What if I get it wrong? Is there a punishment?”
Ronon mirrored Tony, then rested his right hand just above Tony’s knee and barely managed to keep his smirk from becoming a leer.
He flicked his gaze over Tony from eyes to knees and back before drawling, “Anything you want.”
Tony blinked in surprise and sucked in an audible breath. Zy flushed hotly but didn’t turn away. “You’re not very subtle, are you?”
It was interesting how flustered and almost shy Tony got when Ronon pushed back. He’d have to ask why someday. Preferably one day when they were fondly remembering how they’d met, and their kids were whining that they’d all heard the story a million times already.
“I don’t see the point.” Ronon murmured lowly. “You might not be interested. You might punch me in the face. But I’ll never know unless I ask.”
“Oh really? And just what are you asking?” Tony tilted zyr chin up, daring Ronon to come up with a line to get Tony into his bed in a way that didn’t make zyr sound like a cheap hooker.
Ronon’s meura wasn’t ready to crawl into his lap, but zy wasn’t going to run away or claw up his face either. Yet. Ronon chose to take it as a good sign and keep playing the game until Tony was willing to be caught.
Ronon studied zyr openly. “Hmm… I’m not sure you’re ready to hear that,” he said quietly, careful to sound playful. “I like talking to you; I don’t want to scare you away.”
Tony snorted and rolled zyr eyes. “I bet I’ve heard it already. Heck, I’ve probably used whatever line you’ve got next, so go ahead. Let’s have it.” Zy made a ‘come on’ motion with one hand, zyr proud chin jutting out again.
“Hmm…” Ronon rumbled, his thoughts racing to find the right combination to seduce without scaring off his meura now that zy had come within range. “I would ask…let me have you. Let me take off the clothes you wear like armor and touch your skin. Let me find all your sensitive places—the pulse at your throat,” he trailed two fingers over Tony’s pulse and then forward along zyr jaw “your lips,” he continued, barely brushing the tip of one finger over Tony’s bottom lip, “the inside of your wrist.”
Ronon slid his hand down Tony’s arm to lace his fingers between Tony’s and brought zyr wrist to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed a kiss there, his lips parting just enough to give zyr racing pulse a fleeting lick with the tip of his tongue.
Wide-eyed, Tony shivered but didn’t pull away. Zy was obviously shocked but not offended or scared off. Not yet. Zy had tensed, but zyr lips had parted, and zyr breathing quickened in arousal too. Ronon could tell zy would either run or let zyrself be caught this time. There’d be no third chances.
“Let me find out exactly what makes you moan. Will it be a light touch to back of your knee, or firm pressure on the inside of your thigh?” Ronon’s right hand was at Tony’s hip, urging zyr nearly into his lap.
He leaned in and whispered directly into zyr ear, “Let me uncover those places that are too sensitive to be touched by my fingers. That’s where I will touch you with my breath, my lips, my tongue.” Ronon exhaled hotly against Tony’s jaw and privately cheered when zy trembled.
“I want to see your eyes go dark with arousal; your nipples draw into tight peaks. I want to taste the proof of your pleasure, slide my lips over your cock and suck you deep ‘till you come…the first time, that is. Then I’ll follow the trail of honey-sweet slick from your thighs to your core until I can give you the slowest, most intimate kiss.
“I’d love to hear my name on your lips. Do you think you’ll cry out for me then, or will you be too lost in sensation? What about when I slip my tongue inside you and lap your sweetness straight from the source? Can I make you come from that alone?
“So that’s what I’m asking: what makes your body sing…” Ronon leaned back enough to capture Tony’s spellbound gaze. It looked like zy had nearly stopped breathing. “and will you let me be the one to find out?”
Tony shuddered and slammed zyr eyes closed, clenching zyr teeth. A soft whimper escaped, but zy ruthlessly cut it off. Sensing he’d overwhelmed zyr, Ronon slid his hand around the back of Tony’s neck and drew zyr close to rest zyr head against him.
Tony breathed out shakily, and zyr hands fisted in Ronon’s shirt at his sides.
“Easy, kysra,” Ronon murmured, shooting a vicious glare at the arrogant bastard at a table adjacent to them. Asshole had had the audacity to stare at them and then visibly adjust himself in his trousers. Ronon’s upper lip lifted in a silent snarl, and the fool went pale and quickly looked away. Good. Disgusting thing. Ronon would hate to get his clothes dirty by killing it.
Tony took a deep breath and pulled away. Ronon reluctantly let zyr go. Zy ran a hand over zyr face, flushed in embarrassment, and zy couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Well, uh…” zy turned away and hunched over the bar, shifting uncomfortably. Tony cleared zyr throat, then tossed back the last of zyr wine.
Ronon squeezed zyr shoulder gently. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
Tony side-eyed him and scoffed, “I might believe that if you didn’t look so damned smug.”
“You’re probably right,” he admitted. Ronon was sure he did look like a smug jerk, despite his efforts not to. He was worried he’d ruined his chance and Tony was going to run. “I can’t deny liking how I can affect you. Everything I said was true, but I got a little carried away.”
Tony turned zyr head to consider Ronon through narrowed eyes. “Everything?”
“Of course,” he responded easily. “I don’t offer if I don’t intend to follow through.” What was it he’d said that zy didn’t think he’d do? He’d thought it was the situation more than what he’d said, but maybe not. Interesting.
When Tony seemed to be wavering, Ronon said quietly. “Tony, I want you every way you’re willing to let me have you, but please know that you’re safe with me. I won’t do, or ask you to do, anything you don’t want.”
Ronon could tell Tony was thinking about it. He waited for zyr response, hardly daring to breathe.
Tony finally nodded once. “Yeah, okay.”
Ronon grinned victoriously and probably too much like a predator with the prey in sight. Still, Tony didn’t run. Zy waited while Ronon stood and motioned for the bartender, instructing him to bill both tabs to his room. Then he drew Tony to zyr feet and guided zyr from the bar with a hand at zyr waist.
Ronon cautioned himself: Tony had let him sneak beneath zyr defenses for now, but that didn’t mean zy wouldn’t run at any time. Zy was not truly caught until Ronon’s child was cradled within zyr body. Even then, Tony might choose to stay on Earth. Ronon could only ask, never demand. That was the law with the Old Ones’ Beloved. Ronon could not afford to forget.
Chapter 4
Tony hadn’t anticipated that it would happen this way. He really hadn’t thought he’d attract some capital-letter Alpha Male. The thing was, Ronon was a much bigger man than Tony’d been looking for. Not that Tony was small, especially for a delt, but Ronon was taller by several inches and significantly broader at the shoulders. Tony had definitely noticed the way Ronon’s shirt sleeves barely fit around his biceps, and it wasn’t due to fat. He could probably crack walnuts with those things.
Tony would have preferred to find someone he could be certain he’d be able to physically overpower if it became necessary. Granted, he’d never had to before. Nothing had ever happened to him, but he’d heard the stories. Deltas were much less likely to report sexual assault than any other gender, no matter their sexual orientation. Even when they did, a conservative estimate said that only one in fifty ever resulted in conviction. Which was why Tony was extremely careful. Usually. Tonight…well, there were mitigating circumstances tonight. Still, he was nervous. His mind couldn’t help but flash back to different investigations he’d worked where deltas had been brutalized and left for dead.
He wouldn’t have considered going with Ronon if the man hadn’t approached him and been so open about what he wanted without being a jackass. Even then, he normally would have declined, but Tony had been sitting there for long enough that he was starting to get worried. He’d been hit on, of course, but none of them had been right. Hell, he didn’t think he would have been able to tolerate any of them touching him, much less fucking him. That one guy had set off every internal alarm Tony had and made him want to get his ID just so he could look him up in the federal databases. Tony had no doubt that if he’d gone with that guy, he’d have ended up on Ducky’s slab the next day.
It was strange. Tony’d had a good feeling about Ronon when he’d first seen him enter the bar, and that hadn’t changed. Ronon oozed sex appeal. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He could joke and tease, but he could be intense and sensual. He smelled good too—something masculine and spicy. He could form a complete sentence and had made Tony laugh. Ronon had also made Tony more than half hard just talking about what he wanted to do to him.
When Ronon had first made his interest plain, Tony’s biggest concern had been figuring out a way to let him know he was a delt. Somehow, Ronon already seemed to know. Tony had even managed to keep Ronon’s interest long enough to make sure his internal alarms didn’t start screaming, which they hadn’t so far.
He’d been a little concerned when Ronon came onto him so fast, but the XY had backed off and hadn’t been offended, which was a good sign. Everything about Ronon seemed to be okay so far. He even seemed to want to take Tony upstairs and do more than just use him as a living fucktoy.
Warmth pooled low in Tony’s belly despite his nerves when he remembered everything that had been whispered into his ear. If Ronon followed through with any of that, Tony might even be able to enjoy himself until they got to the real fucking. A lot would depend on what happened after they were in the room. If Ronon actually wanted to kiss a little first, there might be a chance Tony could relax a tiny bit. If he just pushed Tony to his knees or shoved him face-down on the bed and went for his pants…well, Tony wasn’t above running, with or without his pants if it came to that. Tony had few illusions about what could happen to him.
By the time they reached the room and Ronon was sliding the magnetic key to unlock it, the reality of what he was doing had set in. He told himself he just needed to get what he need from Ronon before he froze or ran. The only thing keeping him from obeying the ‘flight’ part of his ‘fight or flight’ instinct was the thought of months or years as an Agent Afloat. He had no doubt Vance would leave him out there a decade if he could get away with it. And if Tony survived that long.
Tony was oblivious to the opulence of the room, the room service that had already been delivered, and the way the bedside lamp—the only lighting in the room—made everything seem warm and welcoming. He completely missed Ronon’s perceptive glances. Tony let himself be guided past the seating area to the huge bed, where Ronon tilted his face up with two fingers under his chin.
“Tony?” Ronon looked concerned. “I know I pushed, but I don’t want to push so hard you regret being with me. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
It could have been an act, but Tony didn’t feel like it was. Some of his tension (be honest, his fear) drained away, and he was able respond.
“Yeah. I’m exactly where I want to be.” He laid one hand on Ronon’s chest and slid the other around the back of his neck. It was very strange to need to tilt his head up to kiss someone.
Surprised but pleased, Ronon welcomed him, and the kiss started slow, mostly sharing breath and lips gently pressing together. Ronon’s arms came around him, holding firmly without confining. Tony relaxed further.
This was…it actually felt good. Really good.
Ronon began to flick his tongue against Tony’s lips, but he didn’t force anything. He waited until Tony willingly parted his lips on a sigh and met the questing tongue with his own. He retreated, and this time Ronon followed inside, their tongues sliding together easily. Tony hardly heard the eager little sounds he was making as the kiss turned deeper, hotter.
By the time they had to pull back to breathe, Tony’s anxiety had been replaced by arousal. He was holding onto Ronon just as tightly as Ronon was.
“I think I promised to kiss you here.” Ronon gently kissed Tony’s jaw and down to the rapid pulse at his throat. He sucked hard. Tony’s breath hitched and his hips jerked, making them both aware of just how hard they were already.
Tony moaned, arching his neck to give Ronon better access. Ronon sucked again, then bit down. That distracted Tony and made him tense.
Tony had always had an aversion to biting, thanks to his mother’s Louis XV phase that resulted in Tony’s nightmares about vampires. Then, after the time he’d been accused of murder based on bite marks, it became a full-blown phobia. It didn’t make sense, not even to himself, but Tony hated teeth touching him at all, and he couldn’t even think about biting someone else.
Ronon laved the spot before kissing it very softly—an apology and promise without a word being said. Huh. That was very different. Even the women Tony had been with had thought his aversion to teeth weird.
Ronon adjusted his hold, one arm around Tony’s shoulders and the other at the small of his back, pressing them tightly together. Tony found himself arching his back and hanging onto broad shoulders to keep his balance. Ronon found that oh-hell-yeah spot just beneath Tony’s jaw and opened his mouth over it, licking and sucking until Tony was sure there was going to be a mark. Somehow, he didn’t really care.
Tony moaned, and Ronon made an answering rumble, sounding like a giant cat as much as anything. Tony had no doubt he was in the arms of a predator, but the feeling that he was safe persisted. The deadly claws were sheathed, and muscles strong enough to break only supported Tony’s weight when Ronon lifted his head and slid their mouths together again.
It was so odd to be the one being held rather than doing the holding. Odd but kind of nice. Maybe. He hadn’t decided yet.
Still, he had to make sure. Better to know what would happen now that he was basically a sure thing. Tony determinedly took control of the kiss. To his surprise, Ronon permitted it. He even encouraged him, sucking on Tony’s tongue when Tony decided to explore Ronon’s mouth.
When they stopped for breath this time, they made quick work of the buttons on their shirts by unspoken mutual consent. They were quick to shrug them off, neither caring enough to see where their clothing landed.
“Lie down with me?”
The open desire in Ronon’s eyes like a warm touch all its own. Tony found himself hoping he’d been able to look at the women he’d been with the way Ronon was looking at him now—with honest lust and anticipation that let him know he was wanted without making him feel cheap.
Tony nodded. Shoes and socks were kicked off, and Ronon tossed away some of the decorative pillows while Tony pulled back the blankets on the huge bed. He felt a brief moment of trepidation before stretching out on the bed and raising a hand to tug Ronon down beside him.
They slotted together easily, as if they’d been doing it for years. Ronon cupped Tony’s face brushing his thumb over Tony’s bottom lip.
“Much better,” he smiled. “Gravity is annoying.”
Tony laughed, surprised, which he was sure was the point. He was proven correct when Ronon made a pleased noise and kissed him again. Lying down was better, Tony had to agree. Now he was free to explore all the skin revealed to him, stroking over broad shoulders, impressive biceps, strong neck, and ridiculously muscular chest, without worrying about falling on his ass. He stroked and kissed caramel skin, reveling in the ability to touch as he pleased, and he allowed Ronon to do the same.
Tony had no idea how long they lay together making out like teenagers. Eventually, though, the constricting jeans made the way their hips were grinding together more painful than pleasurable. Ronon shedding his jeans and underwear barely fazed Tony. He was again lost in Ronon’s kiss when some part of his brain noted his own jeans, and boxer briefs with them, being slipped down his legs.
“Uh, wait!” Tony broke away and panted, making grabbing motions for the pants Ronon was about to throw off the bed.
Once Tony had them back, he dug into the pocket and withdrew the small, silver packet, then allowed Ronon to take it and the jeans from him. A muted thump on the thick carpeting said they’d landed somewhere on the far side of the room.
“What is this?” Ronon asked looking from the packet to Tony.
“Single-use lube,” Tony replied. Ronon’s brow furrowed. “Lubricant,” he clarified. Maybe Ronon wasn’t familiar with the term.
“No, I know what lube is. Why would we need it?”
“Because I don’t…you know.” He flushed and made a vague gesture toward his groin, “I don’t get wet enough.” Everything was going so well that Tony wanted to just keep going.
Ronon made a derisive noise, tossing the unopened lube carelessly at the bedside table.
“If you’re not wet enough, I’m doing something wrong.”
He slipped his arms back around Tony, ready to pick up right where they left off.
Tony swallowed uncertainly. “Uh… I guess?”
Ronon’s confidence was suddenly much less attractive to Tony when it was actually something important he was dismissing. Though part of him wanted to freak out, he made himself roll to his back and shift to allow Ronon to settle between his thighs. Reservations or not, he was going through with this.
Ronon pause to stare into his eyes for several seconds before apparently deciding he didn’t like what he saw. He frowned and moved off Tony to the side again before capturing Tony’s hands and pressing a kiss to each palm.
“Tell me,” he demanded softly.
Grasping futilely for his animated frat-boy mask, Tony shook his head and tried to reclaim one hand. “It’s nothing. How about—”
Ronon just leaned in and kissed him silent. “Do you want to have sex with me, Tony?” he asked bluntly, releasing Tony’s hands to squeeze his shoulder.
Tony replied immediately. “Yes. I want this.”
Bitterness at his inadequacy twisted in his chest. Damned stupid XY! Shut up, stick it in, get off, and go away! Couldn’t the man just take it at face value and not make him spell out his inadequacies? So he failed at being a man and at being a proper delt. Get over it. Move on.
“Good. Then tell me what I did to upset you.”
A big, warm hand glided down Tony’s chest and lower, moving over his bare flank—the caress meant to be soothing rather than arousing.
There was a piece of Tony’s brain that was laughing hysterically. Nothing went right. Nothing. When he wanted a man to love him, he got the metaphorical finger and a sore ass. If he was lucky. When he just wanted enough come inside him to get knocked up, he got a wannabe lover. His fucking life.
Tony tried to work himself up to a better deflection, but stupid, observant Ronon just raised an eyebrow in an “oh, really?” expression that said it would be pointless.
Finally, Tony huffed and gave in.
“We’re going to need the lube,” Tony snapped. Because I am defective and fail at life, he finished mentally.
“Why?” Ronon asked, honestly perplexed.
Tony rolled his eyes, though he knew his face was had to be Magnum P.I. Ferrari red from shame. “I’ve never been able to get very wet, okay? Even with lube, being penetrated isn’t exactly…comfortable. Sometimes.”
Ronon’s eyes narrowed and he hmm’d. “It hurts.”
“Some, yeah,” Tony reluctantly admitted, glaring a hole in Ronon’s shoulder and refusing to meet his eyes. Why did he have to pick the one guy in the universe who wouldn’t just fuck him? Seriously, what was it about him that made everything he tried fail spectacularly, epically even?
“What about when you touch yourself?”
“What?” Tony could feel his eyebrows doing some crazy what-the-fuck dance. “What does that have to do with it? The last time I knew, jerking off did not end with a dick up in me.” (Thank the Great Hitchcock.) Maybe there was more of a language barrier than Tony had thought there was.
“Is it painful when you use your fingers inside yourself?” Ronon persisted.
Tony’s expression turned even more bewildered. What?
“I don’t do that. I tried a few times, but…” He shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t do anything for me.” He looked away when he caught the flash of anger. Great. Someone else to point out that Tony was a fucking breeder. Not being able to get wet was pathetic for a supposed nympho XYD, blah, blah, blah.
“Tony, we can do whatever you want.” Ronon was running his hand up and down Tony’s side and hip, trying to calm him. “I told you ‘anything you want’ earlier. I meant it then. I mean it now.”
Okay, that tone said Tony wasn’t going to get fucked unless being fucked over by the universe counted. Tony’s brain declared a Red Alert. Maybe he should have looked for someone a little less observant.
“I know, I know,” Tony started his own petting, trying to coax Ronon into believing what he said. “but I want this, Ronon.”
Right. Figure out what will reassure the proverbial gentle giant. There was no way Tony could go back to the bar to try to find someone else. They’d been gone long enough that the people would make assumptions about why Tony had been there in the first place.
“I want you inside me.” Desperate for Ronon to believe him, Tony pulled Ronon’s hand down to the curve of his ass. “Really. Maybe it’s stupid, but I felt like I could try this again tonight with you. Something about you makes me feel like it will be good with you, like you’ll take care of me better than they did.”
Oh! A flash of something in Ronon’s eyes that might be jealousy. That’s it! Play to the protector and the competitor.
“Okay,” Ronon agreed eventually. “You have to promise that if I’m really not able to make you wet enough that I’m sure I won’t hurt you, I won’t fuck you, and you won’t push me to either.”
That made Tony pause because that… That was going to be a problem.
“But you think you won’t have a problem?” Tony threw out to see if the challenge would bring back the predator. That guy had seemed like he’d have been perfectly happy bending him over a table back in the bar. That was who Tony wanted right now.
“I knew I wanted you when I first saw you,” Ronon growled, eyes dark and intense. “I wouldn’t have brought you to my bed if I weren’t certain I could make it very, very good for you too.”
Okay, good. Perfect. This was more familiar territory. Just keep playing the game, DiNozzo. Give the XY another little shove, and he’ll forget all about unimportant stuff.
Forcing a smirk, he trailed one finger down Ronon’s chest, just skimming his nipple. “You’re pretty sure of yourself. Never had any complaints, huh?”
Ronon arched a brow. “The only complaint I ever had was because my lover was too exhausted to do anything but sleep the next day. Unless you have to work tomorrow, I can guarantee your satisfaction.”
Bingo.
Tony laughed, so relieved. “Well, I don’t need to be anywhere at all tomorrow, so I’ll be sure to give you an honest evaluation of your skills.”
Oh yeah, the predator was back in full force. Yet instead of proving his dominance, Ronon abruptly flipped them over until Tony was on top. He smirked at Tony’s expression even as he smoothed his hands down Tony’s sides and thighs.
“I just remembered I made you a promise earlier.” Ronon settled with his head on a pillow and urged Tony up on his knees, then coaxed him forward with his hands on Tony’s hips until Tony had to brace himself on the headboard to keep from toppling into the wall. Still, it took several seconds for him to catch on to what Ronon wanted. When he did, he flushed with arousal, and his cock went from barely interested to rock hard.
“Seriously?” The half-question, half-exclamation slipped out. Because no way. No way was some body-builder, XY alpha male going to let him fuck his mouth.
“Told you I never promise anything I don’t intend to deliver.”
Completely willing to suspend his disbelief, Tony let Ronon angle his hips forward and his cock down until Ronon’s tongue flicked over him. Kiss-swollen lips pursed to press a kiss to his tip, then slowly open and stretch around him, pushing his foreskin back and drawing him into Ronon’s mouth.
Tony threw his head back and groaned. Wet heat, suction, and an agile tongue swirling around him. Fuck, yeah. He really, really hadn’t thought Ronon would be willing to follow through with sucking him off, and certainly not with Tony above him and in control.
Tony gripped the headboard and let himself enjoy it. He soon found out that while he might be on top, Ronon was definitely the one in control. He sucked Tony deep, making him choke on his next breath before pulling off and truly getting started.
Ronon licked, sucked, and stroked, evaluating each of Tony’s reactions until everything he did seemed like it was specifically meant to drive Tony out of his mind. Ronon especially liked playing with Tony’s uncircumcised foreskin. He used his hand to pull the loose skin forward to cover the head, then took Tony’s cock in his mouth. His lips closed just behind the flared ridge of Tony’s cockhead, he wriggled his tongue in between the tip and the foreskin, sucking hard and furiously licking the inside edge of that protective flesh.
“Oh, shit,” Tony groaned, his hands flexing on the headboard. Each flicker of Ronon’s tongue sent pleasure zinging up Tony’s spine.
When Tony started to get close to coming, Ronon made a tight, almost painful, ring with his thumb and forefinger finger at the base of his cock that brought him back from the edge. Satisfied Tony was back under control, Ronon flicked kitten licks from the seam between his balls all the way up the big vein to the tip of Tony’s cock. Then he stopped and looked up at Tony.
“Ronon, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
Ronon’s amused rumble vibrated from his chest up Tony’s thighs to settle in zyr balls. “Gorgeous kysra, we’re not even close to done. I just like to look at you.”
He started jacking Tony slowly, making him grunt and his stomach muscles shiver.
“Just can’t help myself. You’re so sexy. Like to look at your pretty cock too. It’s long and thick, but not too much.” Ronon’s free hand was roaming Tony’s body, up the inside of his thigh, tracing the line where it joined his body, then back over his hip to cup and squeeze his ass.
“Oh really,” Tony voice was hoarse as he moved his hips and tried to get Ronon to go faster. It didn’t work. Ronon just moved with him.
“Mmm,” Ronon agreed wordlessly. “I don’t think it’s so big that it won’t fit down my throat. What do you think?”
Tony was sure his heart stopped. Would Ronon really…? A spike of pleasure and anticipation slammed through him.
“Hell yeah. You really want me to beg, is that it? Then please, please, Ronon.”
The bastard gave him a slow, wicked smile. “Don’t worry, Tony. I’ll get you there.”
Matching action to word, Ronon moved both hands back to grip Tony’s hips, which was probably a good idea. Tony didn’t actually want to choke him to death after all. Tony let his hips be moved and pelvis tilted down. He groaned when Ronon took him back into his mouth.
Tony was allowed a few reflexive thrusts before Ronon tightened his grip and eased him forward until his cock was almost at the back of Ronon’s throat. Ronon swallowed.
“Nnnghha!” Tony bucked and flailed, slamming his elbow into the wall before regaining his grip on the headboard. Arousal had him so high he didn’t even feel the pain.
He was pushed back, and Ronon swirled his tongue around him, chuckling. Then he pulled him forward and sucked firmly. Back and forth, deeper every time. Tony had just about gotten the rhythm when Ronon pulled him forward and tilted his head, opening his throat and swallowing Tony’s cock completely, burying his nose in Tony’s sensitive, smooth pubic mound.
Tony’s eyes rolled back in his head. He yelled something, but he had no idea what. Ronon held him there mercilessly and swallowed around him repeatedly until he was a whimpering mess. Tony’s balls drew tight, and his thighs started to shake.
Of course, Ronon pulled off and immediately halted Tony’s orgasm with an iron grip around his cock and another around his balls, pulling them down sharply.
Tony’s breath left him on a yell of frustration, He gasped for air. That bastard. That fucking bastard.
“I hate you,” Tony complained once he could breathe.
Ronon just grinned, like Tony was the most amusement he’d had in years.
“No you don’t. You might in another ten minutes though,” he taunted, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Sadist!”
“I don’t even know what that word means.”
Tony wasn’t sure if Ronon was serious, but the man didn’t wait for an explanation. Ronon just sucked him in again and slipped one hand between Tony’s legs, pressing two fingers firmly against his perineum, making his hips buck and his cock hit the back of Ronon’s throat again. Ronon didn’t pause. He kept licking, sucking, and working over Tony’s cock with the kind of skill Tony had never experienced before. It was so very, very good.
Until he realized Ronon was never going to let him come.
Tony would get within a heartbeat of coming, and Ronon would pull off and use that death grip to stop Tony from coming while Ronon licked at the join of Tony’s hip and thigh or up to his bellybutton. He’d let Tony have control to go as slow or fuck as hard as he wanted, then he’d grab hold of Tony’s hips and force him still so Ronon could torture him with his tongue. Or pull him forward so he could suck his balls and roll them on his tongue. Once he even forced Tony still so he could lick and suck his perineum as Tony knelt over his face.
Tony wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Ronon in the face or hold him down and fuck his mouth until he came. It didn’t matter since he couldn’t ever get his brain to coordinate his limbs enough to do either. It wasn’t until Tony was nearly screaming in frustration that Ronon did something that cooled the fire in his blood: he touched the pad of one finger to Tony’s entrance.
It was like being yanked back from the precipice. Tony shivered, his muscles immediately pulling inward and tight. He waited for the burn of penetration, but it never came.
Ronon simply started layering sucking kisses up the thick vein running along Tony’s cock until he reached the glans. There Ronon used his tongue to play with Tony’s sensitive frenulum, flicking it back and forth, then sucking and stretching it with tightly pressed lips.
Tony couldn’t help but respond to the spark of electricity along his nerves, and the finger became less important. Tony felt the flicking motions end, and Ronon’s tongue began to trace circles over his glans, from the flare at the base to the tip and back. Tony moaned, tension coiling once more. It was a heartbeat before he realized that Ronon had started circling his finger around Tony’s opening in exactly the same motion his tongue was swirling around his cockhead.
Tony’s instincts didn’t quite know what to do with that. His muscles would flinch and pull away, then relax before going rigid again until Tony’s mind and body finally figured out there wasn’t any discomfort. Not yet at least.
As soon as he stopped flinching away from Ronon’s finger, Ronon sucked in Tony’s cockhead and started to work his tongue between the shaft and foreskin, a familiar, fantastic sensation. This time, though, he curled his tongue to press the fragile skin between his tongue and his lip.
Similarly, that determined middle finger (slick now—when had that happened?) dipped barely inside and lightly pressed and teased at the tight muscle at Tony’s opening.
Ronon slurped off Tony’s cock but began working his tongue insistently against the slit, making Tony’s muscles clench and quiver in reaction. Again, it was different because Ronon’s finger mirrored the movement, dipping in and sliding back and forth rapidly just as his tongue was pressing into his slit. Tony would have started thrusting if Ronon’s hand weren’t pressed against his pubic bone, his thumb and forefinger tight around his cock, holding back his hips.
“Ronon…” Tony moaned. It felt so fucking good, the danger of penetration was forgotten, and Tony wondered if his heart was just going to give out when he came.
If he ever got to come.
Stupid bastard!
Tony probably yelled that at some point. Maybe a couple of times.
His nerves were on fire, and he didn’t have the concentration to listen to what stupid sounds he was making. He knew he had bitten his own lip raw from trying not to make noise after the second time Ronon had stopped him from coming. After that, Tony had given up. He didn’t care what noises he was making or who heard them.
Ronon sucked in the head of Tony’s cock and eased his finger in to the first knuckle. His tongue, forcing the cockhead against the textured roof of his mouth, began firmly working back and forth. He started making a rumbling sound deep in his chest that traveled up Tony’s thighs and into his balls and ass. Tony whimpered. Ronon’s finger slipped past the tight ring and into his body, going a little deeper each time Ronon sucked his cock deeper.
Tony’s lower stomach muscles flexed and refused to relax, forcing him to curl over Ronon’s head to rest his forehead on his own hands where they gripped the headboard. He trembled, whimpers and choked off exclamations being torn from him every time another surge of lust and pleasure moved through him.
Finally, finally, Ronon gave control back to Tony, letting him move as he pleased. Though barely able to think beyond his next breath, Tony’s pleasure-drugged brain quickly figured out that what happened to his cock in Ronon’s mouth would happen to Ronon’s finger inside him. Tony’s cock and his ass formed a circuit of pleasure that had him making so much noise that it was a good thing all rooms at this level were soundproofed.
Sweat was dripping into Tony’s eyes as he fucked Ronon’s mouth, his movements shaky and uncoordinated. When Tony started to get frustrated, Ronon tilted his head just so to allow Tony’s cock to slide deep in his throat once more. At the same time, the finger inside Tony glided deeper and curled to touch a place that made all Tony’s muscles seize. Ronon’s arm came up around Tony’s waist, holding him still as Ronon’s throat massaged Tony’s cock, his finger relentlessly working that spot within him.
The air left Tony’s lungs in a burst, as if he’d been sucker-punched. He was wracked with shudders as he came, and lightning and electricity sizzling along his nerves. When it ended, Tony was gasping in desperately needed oxygen, and his legs and arms were shaking.
Ronon slipped his finger from Tony’s body and guided him down on his back on the bed. When Tony could finally open his eyes, Ronon was working his sore jaw with one hand and looking ridiculously pleased with himself. Tony couldn’t begrudge him the right. Not that he could protest, even if he wanted to, what with being occupied with gasping in desperately needed oxygen.
Ronon’s gaze softened as he licked his swollen lips and watched Tony catch his breath. He rested his big hand briefly on Tony’s thigh.
“Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
Tony watched Ronon saunter into the bath. When he came back out, he had a wet washcloth and a dry hand towel. He stopped at the low table in front of the sofa where there was a large, covered serving tray and several bottles of water. Ronon filled a plate with a variety of the fruit, grabbed a water bottle, and came back to the bed, setting the plate on the bedside table, tossing the water bottle on the bed, and casually settling down at Tony’s side.
Huh. Either Tony hadn’t noticed it earlier, or someone had brought it in while he was getting his brains sucked out his dick. He really hoped it was the former, not the latter.
Unbelievably, Ronon was completely ignoring his own cock, which was huge and so hard the head was almost purple. Ronon’s cock had stayed pressed flat against his belly even when he walked. Even his balls, large and heavy, looked tight enough to be uncomfortable.
Tony sure as hell did not have that kind of will power. What, did Ronon think he had to earn the right to come inside Tony or something? Tony knew he was staring, but it was kind of difficult not to. Ronon was a big guy—well over six feet. His cock was proportional. The way it was all hard and angry red right now, it looked way too big to fit in Tony’s ass without a hell of a lot of lube and possibly a prescription muscle relaxer. And maybe a numbing cream.
Dammit, don’t even think about that, DiNozzo.
“Alright?” Ronon asked as he used the ultra-soft washcloth and towel to wipe the sweat from Tony’s face and body.
“Holy shit.”
Ronon grinned. He didn’t say anything though; he just re-stacked the pillows so that he and Tony could brace themselves against them, mostly sitting up with Tony tucked under Ronon’s arm and against his chest.
As if the night hadn’t been surreal enough, Ronon proceeded to open the water and hold it to Tony’s mouth. He probably would have objected to being treated like a delicate flower or fainting maiden if he’d thought about it, but his brain was still come-dumb. And he was really thirsty from all the gasping and yelling he’d done, so why bother pretending now?
When Tony declined any more of the water, Ronon downed the rest himself before capping the empty bottle and pulling the plate over to them. He made sure Tony wasn’t allergic to anything, or didn’t have any “foods that could kill him,” as Ronon put it, and they shared the plate with Ronon hand-feeding Tony bites of all the fresh fruit.
There were strawberries, grapes, pineapple chunks, papaya and mango chunks, and kiwi—all artfully sliced. There was even a little dish of pomegranate arils, for the love of Spielberg! How did anyone get ahold of pomegranates in DC in February?
Not that he was actually complaining, Tony decided as he contentedly licked mango juice from Ronon’s fingers. He just felt like he was getting rewarded for having an amazing orgasm. Except…well, he wasn’t exactly against that either. What red-blooded guy would be?
“You think too much.” Ronon’s voice was definitely deeper and more raspy.
“What?” Tony managed, tilting his head to the side and back a bit so he could see Ronon’s face.
“You only looked wiped out for about three minutes. Then I could tell you were back to thinking.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Should I not be?”
“You can,” Ronon replied with easy confidence. He held another bit of fruit to Tony’s lips. “You just don’t have to. I’ll take care of you.”
Tony really didn’t have a reply to that since he’d told Ronon before that he’d felt like Ronon would take care of him. The way he’d said it, it had probably sounded like that’s what he was asking for.
Tony studied Ronon as he tried a kiwi and seemed to be fascinated with the green fruit.
Ronon raised both eyebrows. He held up another slice and stared at it. “What’s this one?”
“Kiwi,” Tony replied, moving onto his side. He was pretty much done with the food for now.
He’d never had post-orgasm pampering before, and it felt weird. Not bad, just strange. Besides, any more pampering, and he’d want to sleep. The endorphin buzz he had going on made him want to do that anyway, but he couldn’t. Not until he was sure the baby batter had been mixed.
“You don’t have those where you’re from?”
Ronon obligingly shifted so they were reclining more, which made it easier for Tony to curl one arm around him and rest his head on his chest.
“Nope,” Ronon replied. “I like it. Some of the other ones are too sweet. This one—” he gestured with another kiwi slice, “—is a little tart. It’s better than those. I like the little red ball things too.”
“Pomegranate,” Tony automatically supplied. He hummed thoughtfully. “Have you ever had cranberries?”
Ronon tilted his head to the side as he considered. “I don’t think so. Are those tart or sweet?”
“Tart. Very tart. Most people can’t eat them plain at all. They put them with another fruit or a lot of sugar. Sometimes both.”
He thought about the cranberry-blueberry sauce one of his parents’ cooks made for Thanksgiving when he was little. He’d liked that, but he hated the supposed cranberry jelly that came in a can from the store. That crap was what Remington had served every year for the few staff and students stuck on campus.
“Maybe we’ll ask room service for that next,” Ronon said.
Tony smiled against Ronon’s shoulder. Ronon might not be from the US, but he had acclimated to room service pretty quickly.
He trailed his fingers over Ronon’s chest and his ridiculous abdominal muscles. The man had beautiful golden skin that made Tony’s mouth water. He also had as many scars as Tony did, if not more. Tony recognized the knife wounds and a couple that must have been bullets, but there were others that looked like burn marks. Whatever he did, it was dangerous.
“So where are you from?” Tony asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “I don’t think you ever told me.”
There was a long pause while Ronon studied him. Ronon finally replied, “I was from Sateda, but they let me live on the military base now.”
Tony was immediately curious. Interesting. It seemed like such an innocuous question, but Ronon had seemed to be debating about telling him the truth or not. From the way he phrased it, it didn’t take much to figure out that Sateda, which Tony had never heard of despite his decent knowledge of countries and military base locations, was either gone or taken over by hostile parties and renamed. Maybe Sateda was a tribe?
“So you’re a local guide for the military now?”
Ronon hummed noncommittally, chewing the last slice of kiwi. When he’d finished, he propped himself up on one hand so he could set the plate and the empty water bottle on the other bedside table. He looked back to Tony, a gleam in his eyes.
“Think you’ve recovered enough?”
Chapter 5
Tony’s lips curved in a slow, seductive smile, and he let Ronon toss most of the pillows out of the way again. He gave a full-body stretch, arching and stretching each limb, then purposely going limp with both arms over his head. He snickered at the ravenous way Ronon was staring at him. It seemed his lover wanted to feed a hunger for something other than food.
“I think I could be persuaded,” he purred shamelessly, wetting his lower lip with his tongue.
“Good. Just let me put a towel under us.”
Tony was bemused but let Ronon situate the towel beneath him.
Ronon moved over him, and Tony palmed his lover’s cock. “You are definitely ready.” He slid Ronon’s foreskin over his glans, though it was already almost too tight to stretch that far. He grinned wickedly, swiping the bead of precome onto his finger and sucking the finger into his mouth.
Ronon growled.
“I don’t think you want to wait for how long it would take to stretch me without lube. Are you sure about that?”
Ronon’s expression went from heated to smug.
“Can’t believe you doubted me, my kysra. I had two fingers in you while I was sucking you. The only time I was even a little concerned I might hurt you was when your whole body jerked right before you came.”
Tony’s jaw dropped open, his seduction attempt forgotten temporarily. “Wait, what?”
Ronon’s fingers were long and nicely shaped, but they were not skinny. He couldn’t believe he’d had more than one inside him. There hadn’t been any pain. Tony shivered as Ronon eased himself on top of him, matching his body to Tony’s but propping himself up on his elbows so Tony could still breathe.
“You’re thinking again,” Ronon pointed out, then he lowered his head and kissed him.
Tony fully approved of Ronon’s behavior modification technique. Tony’s body was even more on board with anything Ronon wanted. It recognized the touch of the man who’d given more pleasure and had shown more care than any previous lover, especially the males. Arousal and anticipation surged through him, making his heart beat faster.
Tony parted his thighs, letting Ronon drop between them and making him growl and nip the nipple he was worshiping. Tony yelped, automatically shoving Ronon’s head away from his chest.
“Sorry,” Ronon apologized immediately. “No biting?”
Tony shrugged ruefully. “No biting,” he confirmed. “I know it’s stupid, I just don’t—”
“Hey, nuh-uh,” Ronon scolded him mildly, moving up for a thorough kiss. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Everybody has stuff they don’t like. I don’t like spanking. Or slapping. Pretty much hitting of any kind in bed, even if it’s just playing.”
Tony relaxed muscles he hadn’t realized he’d tensed. “That works for me.”
In fact, Tony was happy to agree to that, especially when doing so earned him another kiss, which led to another and another. With the way he kissed, Ronon’s mouth was probably illegal in ninety-three countries. His tongue the other hundred. Even though Tony had never thought of kissing as a warmup to sex, Ronon kissed with all-consuming focus, like kissing was the main event, and everything else was the encore.
Ronon kissed Tony until they ran out of oxygen, and then he traced the tip of one finger over Tony’s lower lip and his upper lip cupid’s bow. He did it so lightly Tony could barely feel it, which left his lips incredibly sensitized. Then when Ronon slid their mouths together again, Tony whimpered, and his cock throbbed in reaction.
It was absurd. Tony “Sex Machine” DiNozzo found himself clinging to his one-night stand just from a bit of kissing. Thankfully, no one would ever know. Ronon would be gone tomorrow, back to whatever military base he lived on.
Tony quickly shoved that thought aside without considering why it bothered him so much.
Ronon lay a string of kisses from Tony’s lips down his neck to his chest until he again hovered over the previously bitten nipple. Tony took nervous breath, but there was no need. Ronon was careful and quickly figured out that while pressure from sharp teeth made Tony uncomfortable, he definitely loved having his nipples licked and sucked.
“Good?”
“Nnnmm. Yeah,” Tony moaned, arching his back, offering up his chest and aching nipples.
Ronon got to his knees between Tony’s legs and scooted forward so he could drape Tony’s long, smooth legs over his own thighs, tilting Tony’s hips and leaving him open to his touch. As if sensing Tony’s nerves, Ronon simply began stroking Tony’s skin, adjusting the pressure of his touch depending on what got the desired reaction.
It turned out Tony’s sides weren’t ticklish, but he only liked firm touch from an open hand. He didn’t want to be scratched, but careful pressure from short, smooth nails being drawn over his skin made him moan and shiver, his skin prickling in a wave of goosebumps almost every time.
To his own surprise, Tony discovered that although teeth were a huge turnoff, he actually did like having his nipples gently pinched and rolled between thumb and middle finger while the nail of the index finger flicked the very peak. Ronon somehow coordinated that with sucking and licking the alternate nipple, rubbing it with the flat of his tongue until Tony’s breath hitched and his cock throbbed.
“Ah, fuck!” Tony groaned.
Ronon hummed against his skin and kissed his way down the center of his chest to flick his tongue around the rim of his bellybutton. He spent an inordinate amount of time kissing and licking around Tony’s bellybutton until it finally clicked: Ronon was using his tongue to trace the outline of the delt mark every delta was born with - a large square set on its point in the center with smaller squares connected to the top, bottom, left, and right. Lastly, he laid down kisses to form the outer square that contained all the rest.
It should have felt weird. And it did, just not in a way Tony could have ever anticipated. It felt almost reverent. Before he could ask, Ronon had moved on and was stroking Tony’s whole body with long, gentle sweeps of his hands.
“So gorgeous,” Ronon murmured. “Doing alright?”
Oh. That time already, was it? Tony nodded and swallowed down his concern. Not fear. Right. Concern. That was it. It was so much harder to forget how much being fucked hurt when he was spread open and waiting for someone to do it again.
Ronon tilted his head and studied Tony as he continued caressing his body. “You’re not, sweet liar,” he crooned. “You’re scared, but it’s going to be okay. Tony, you’re safe with me, and I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise.”
Ronon slid a hand up Tony’s thigh to his ass. Tony tried (very unsuccessfully) not to tense when a single finger trailed down his perineum and touched his hole. The finger slipped barely inside him, making him gasp sharply, then drew a line of slick on the inside of his thigh.
“Feel that, Tony?” Ronon’s expression was gentle.
“What, your finger?”
“No, m’kysra, your slick. You told me you can’t get wet, right? Well, I haven’t opened that stuff you brought with you.”
“What?” Tony blinked stupidly. He’d assumed that Ronon had opened the lube at some point while he was tormenting Tony’s cock. Tony didn’t get wet, not enough to get one finger inside much less the two Ronon claimed, and he said as much.
Ronon’s jaw clenched, and he looked away. Tony could see his nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths. Crap. Was Ronon angry? Tony’s gut clenched; his hands came down to cover himself.
When Ronon turned back, his expression was controlled again until he saw Tony’s face. “You look like you’re afraid of me, Tony. Do you really think I’d hurt you?”
Tony’s legs were still draped over Ronon’s, and he felt really fucking vulnerable with Ronon sitting in the ‘V’ of his thighs.
“No.” He swallowed nervously, wishing that had sounded more confident.
Ronon’s eyes moved over him, taking in his tension. His gaze softened, and he grasped Tony’s hands, pulling him to sit up. Ronon’s arms wound around him, hugging him close, Tony tucked his face into the curve of Ronon’s neck.
Oh, this was better. Ronon was so warm, and he smelled so good. Tony breathed him in as he slid his arms around Ronon’s neck. As he did, some of his worry receded.
“Not sure what I did to make you afraid of me, but nothing has changed between us.” Ronon tilted Tony’s chin up. “I just didn’t understand until now that you actually think there’s something wrong with you. I don’t know what happened or who hurt you, but I swear they were the ones who were wrong, not you.”
Tony flushed, embarrassed, but he refused to look away. “Ronon, I don’t know what you think you know, but I’ve never been forced or hurt.”
“Okay,” Ronon accepted after a long pause. “I want you. I want you any way you’ll let me have you, so don’t be afraid of me. What I need to know is what do you want tonight, Tony?” He ran the backs of his fingers against Tony’s cheek.
Tony curled his fingers over Ronon’s. He leaned into Ronon’s palm as his hand opened.
“I want this. You said you’ll make it good for both of us, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I want to try,” Tony whispered, closing his eyes and kissing Ronon’s palm. “I want this, and I want it to be you.”
Tony opened his eyes, surprised at his own words. That last part was actually true. He did want it to be Ronon, not just any man.
“Alright, kysra. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise.” Ronon leaned in and kissed him gently, not like he was fragile, but like he was special. Like he mattered.
Tony let him, his one hand curling around the back of Ronon’s neck, and the other going to his shoulder. This was familiar, welcome territory.
“You’ve called me that before,” he murmured when Ronon moved down and kissed his jaw, nuzzling him to encourage him to tilt his head back. “What does it mean? KISS-ruh?”
Ronon hummed against his skin. “It’s a Satedan word. Something like darling in your language.” Ronon lifted so he could meet Tony’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow, a bit of the arrogant predator returning. “But better, because a Satedan knows how to properly make love to his kysra.”
An amused snort escaped Tony. “Okay, darling, show me what makes Satedans better lovers than Americans.”
Tony found himself being kissed again, passionate and all consuming. Ronon’s fingers trailed down his neck, traced his collarbone, and finally started to circle his nipple. Tony sighed into Ronon’s mouth. Both Tony’s arms were around Ronon’s neck, clinging and trembling a little.
Ronon drew back only to take Tony’s face in both hands. He pressed on Tony’s bottom lip with his thumb.
“Love your mouth, Tony. The only thing almost as good as kissing you is watching you moan in pleasure from my touch.”
“Oh yeah?” Tony held Ronon’s hand still and turned his head. He sucked Ronon’s thumb hard once, then curled his tongue around it and sucked more gently, flicking his tongue over it and treating the thumb as if it were a cock while he stared into Ronon’s eyes.
Ronon groaned and cursed in his native language, making an obvious effort to switch back to English. “Shit, dahrym!10 Someday maybe you’ll suck my cock like that in your sweet mouth, but I can’t—”
He trailed off and withdrew his thumb, angling his head and licking into Tony’s mouth, his lips and tongue conquering invaders. Not ready to submit, Tony teased his lover. He pulled away, pretended to surrender, then turned his cheek, forcing Ronon to chase him.
He laughed when Ronon growled and bore him back into the pillows. Ronon’s eyes were lit with desire and pleasure. Apparently he liked a little resistance. Tony was summarily pinned and kissed into submission. Their cocks rubbed together, and he was back to full hardness by the time Ronon pulled back.
“My gorgeous, amazing kysra,” Ronon panted, “Just relax for me. Let me take care of you. Let me prove my Satedan superiority when it comes to making love.”
Tony smiled into Ronon’s kiss and tried to obey and relax. Ronon’s focus shifted from Tony’s lips to his body, and he began slowly caressing every inch of Tony’s skin. Working from shoulders and arms down, Ronon ran his hands over each area lightly to see the resulting shiver, or just firmly stroking to soothe. There didn’t seem to be any particular rhyme or reason to what Ronon was doing, but Tony didn’t protest.
Moving down from Tony’s torso, Ronon skipped his cock and shifted focus to Tony’s thighs. Instead of going directly to his ass and starting to stretch right away like Tony had expected him to, Ronon used the backs of his fingers and began sweeping from inner thigh out to Tony’s knee, then starting over again. It felt good, but Tony had to wonder when they were going to get down to business.
As if he’d heard Tony’s thought, Ronon told him, “If you were a virgin, it would be easy to play your body’s hot spots and make you come, then slide inside you while you were relaxed.” His eyes flicked up to meet Tony’s. “I know what you said, but whatever happened with your previous lovers, your body tells me it’s expecting me to hurt you.”
He shifted, his hands going behind Tony’s knees, drawing them up and pressing them apart. “So even when your brain says this is different, your sense memory says otherwise.” He leaned to kiss the inside of Tony’s thigh. “There has to be trust between us. Your mind and body both have to believe my hands on you will feel good.”
“Hmmnn.” It did feel good. Tony let his eyes close, deciding just to let Ronon do what he wanted.
Ronon shifted closer, sitting on his heels. He gently pushed Tony’s thighs open farther until he was completely exposed.
Tony sucked in a breath, and his eyes shot open.
“Easy, Tony. Your body’s trying to brace itself and protect you from pain. But you don’t need protection from me. No need to protect yourself when I’m only going to give you pleasure,” Ronon assured.
“Right.” Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to let go. “Right,” he repeated.
Ronon began the soothing caresses again, this time starting from Tony’s knees and moving inward to where his hip leg met his body at his groin. He kept going when Tony expected him to stop, continuing to move up Tony’s pelvis all along that long tendon that connected knee to thigh to groin to pelvis.
“You’re gorgeous, m’kysra, everywhere.”
Seeing the way Ronon looked at him when he said it, Tony could almost believe it. Something in him—tension or fear or whatever—accepted Ronon’s words and relaxed. The massage continued, but it slowly moved from relaxing to arousing. This time when Ronon reached the highest point of inner thigh, his fingers glided to Tony’s perineum. Ronon stroked him there, searching his face, waiting for his response. When the pressure was right, Tony choked on a wordless exclamation.
“That’s it, Tony. It’s supposed to feel good.”
Tony moaned. He forced his hands open, flexing his fingers in the sheets.
“Just like that,” Ronon praised him. “It’ll get even better. Prostate massage can be amazing from the inside and the outside, but we’re not there yet.”
“I’ve had prostate exams before.” Tony, said somewhat breathlessly. He made a face. “Gotta say I was not impressed.”
Ronon huffed indignantly. “Having a health check from your doctor and being caressed by your lover should not feel anything alike. If they do, you need either a new doc or a new lover.”
Tony snickered, “You’re probably right.”
Gentle fingers slowly trailed down until they just barely brushed over Tony’s hole. This time Tony didn’t tense much. Still, Ronon continued on to caress and knead Tony’s ass.
‘Gluteus maximus,’ Tony suddenly remembered from a long ago anatomy class. His lips curled into a smile, amused at his random memory.
Ronon moved from Tony’s buttocks to his entrance, where he circled and pressed inward with two fingers enough for Tony to feel the pressure, but not enough to force him to open. Then he stroked outward along Tony’s cheek.
As Ronon continued, Tony realized he was aroused again, his cock hard against his belly. He could actually feel the slick—his slick—being spread with each outward stroke of Ronon’s fingers. Soon he was breathing shallowly, his breath catching every time Ronon pressed gently against his entrance.
Tony started to feel the strangest empty feeling, like he wanted, needed something inside him. He’d stopped flinching away from Ronon’s fingers a while ago, but now he was feeling to urge to open and draw the fingers inside himself. No doubt it helped that Ronon had already had fingers inside him once tonight. Still, he hadn’t had thought he would ever experience this. He’d thought it was something that only happened to deltas in those supermarket-shelf romances.
Not that Tony ever read those.
When a single finger slipped inside him, Tony anxiously sought Ronon’s eyes. He sucked in a breath, but couldn’t seem to let it out again, and his hands again clenched into fists.
“Shh,” Ronon soothed him. He pried the sheets from Tony’s fingers and took Tony’s hand in his.
Tony clung, grateful for the contact and suddenly able to breathe again. “Keep breathing, Tony. I’m not hurting you, am I?”
It wasn’t a question, not really. Once Tony got past that initial reaction, he was able to feel the press and slide of Ronon’s finger within him. No, it didn’t hurt at all. The more he relaxed into it, the more he felt that strange urge to open himself to more, to deeper penetration.
“Ronon?” He didn’t even know what he was asking for, but Ronon seemed to understand.
“I’ve got you, Tony, you can let go,” he encouraged. His calm voice and Tony’s uneven breaths were the only sounds in the room. “Let your body tell you what it wants.”
Giving in to those strange new urges, Tony tilted his pelvis up into the touch. His slick-drenched muscles grasped at the intruder and tried to draw it further inside.
Tony’s breath left him in a soft oh. That felt—oh damn, that felt—
He shuddered, the sensation was strange but so, so good. He moaned and clenched again. And again. Instead of lying there and letting Ronon touch him, he began to move with him, tightening and relaxing as he figured out what felt good.
His eyelids fluttered closed, so he missed the way Ronon had to take deep breaths and visibly calm himself.
One finger soon became two. Tony knew. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice, but that second finger hadn’t changed how good everything felt. There might even have been more pleasure because there was more for him to tighten around when his instincts told him to.
“Perfect, Tony,” Ronon purred, his voice thick with arousal. “So hot and slick. So beautiful like this—all stretched out and trusting me, letting me inside you.”
Tony’s eyes opened slowly. Familiar arousal was coiling at the base of Tony’s spine, but there was something else—a new heat pooling deep inside. Two fingers was good, but then Ronon skimmed across Tony’s prostate. Tony’s whole body spasmed, and he cried out sharply, clenching down tight. Ronon grinned triumphantly and repeated the internal caress with his first and middle fingers while he began to massage Tony’s perineum from the outside with his thumb and ring finger.
Oh, fuck! Fuck! Tony gasped and whimpered. Ronon was right about that prostate massage. That was going first on Tony’s list of favorite things right now.
“No!” Tony protested when Ronon began to withdraw his fingers.
Ronon flattened their joined hands on Tony’s abdomen, holding him in place. “It’s alright. I’m coming right back.”
Three fingers this time, and Tony trembled. He laced his fingers together with Ronon’s and held on so hard his knuckles turned white with strain. His other hand grabbed and twisted the sheets.
“Too much?”
“No,” Tony denied, eyes closed and brow furrowed as he focused on the feel of it. “Stretches, doesn’t hurt. Don’t stop.”
“Alright, just keep breathing.” Ronon continued easing his fingers deeper, spreading them and stroking the silken walls. He found that perfect spot again and repeated his magic touch inside and outside.
“Ah, fuck! Yes!”
Tony arched his back until his shoulders came up off the sheets and he was balanced between his head and his ass. He ground down on Ronon’s fingers within him. His rock-hard cock flexed away from his belly, dripping precome onto his and Ronon’s joined hands. He never in a million years would have thought he’d be so close to coming just from having Ronon’s fingers inside him.
Tony couldn’t hold it for long and had to let himself to drop back down to the bed. His heart was racing. His breaths were shallow, quick pants. He felt like he was spinning out of control, but he didn’t want to stop.
“So damned gorgeous, Tony. You’re so responsive. Don’t know how anyone could see you like this and leave you afterward.”
Ronon released his hand, and Tony opened his eyes in time to see him pulling down viciously on his own balls, his cock an angry reddish purple. At the back of his mind, Tony knew Ronon had to be suffering blue balls big time by now, but the man had never let on. Even now, Ronon kept his focus on Tony, moving his fingers within Tony’s body and carefully stretching his tight muscles as if he had all the time in the world.
Before long, Tony was so aroused that the precome on his stomach was dripping into and then overflowing his bellybutton. Every time Ronon withdrew his fingers even an inch, Tony could feel his slick escaping from him, spilling onto the towel beneath them. He could smell himself too: heat and sweat combined with the salty-sweet musk of an aroused delta’s slick. Physically, it felt messy and weird. Emotionally, there was a part of him that was preening, proud of being capable of responding to his lover’s touch and not needing the synthetic lube.
The tip of Ronon’s fourth finger was a definite stretch that rode the edge of pain. Tony gritted his teeth. He clutched at his pillow beneath his head with both hands, rocking his head from side-to-side, trying to force his body to obey and open.
“You’re alright,” Ronon soothed him, slipping that finger out and going back to three.
Tony whined, a sharp, desperate noise. It was so good, it was so much, but he knew this wasn’t all there should be. There was something missing, and he wanted it. He needed it.
He gasped, “I want it. I want you!”
“We’ll get there, I promise.”
Despite the intensity and lust burning in his eyes, Ronon’s voice was calm. That helped. Ronon’s confidence gave Tony something to hold onto emotionally the way the pillow gave him something to hold onto physically.
The fourth finger returned, but this time Tony’s muscles yielded and accepted it into his tight channel. He moaned and watched from beneath his lashes, alternately looking down his body to Ronon’s hand between his legs and up to Ronon’s face to search his eyes. Had anyone ever looked at Tony with such intense focus before? He doubted it.
Ronon curled his fingers, pressing firmly now, stretching and easing Tony open. Tony couldn’t help but move with him. Ronon would touch him just right, and he’d undulate sinuously, his body and mind responding automatically, believing that sex with Ronon was going to be good in a way it never had been with anyone else. Tony didn’t even realize he was steadily riding all four fingers until the fingers were gone and he was suddenly pulled from his sensual haze.
His eyes snapped up to meet Ronon’s, and he whined before he could stop himself.
“Easy, amalecto.11 I’m right here,” Ronon assured him, encouraging Tony’s right leg up over his hip and pressing Tony’s left back almost to his chest with a hand behind his knee.
“Just stay relaxed for me,” Ronon instructed when the first touch of his cock to Tony’s entrance made him tremble. “Breathe, Tony. I’m going to make you feel so good, I promise.”
Ronon hadn’t broken a promise yet, so Tony tried to obey. His heart was pounding, and he could only catch shallow gasps of air. He clutched at Ronon’s bicep with one hand and laid the other flat against his lover’s abdomen—not to stop him, but to make Tony feel like he had more control.
Ronon held his gaze and pressed forward. Tony’s breath hitched, then shuddered out of him when his rim spasmed, surrendered and allowed Ronon’s cock to slip past that first muscle.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. It was…
Ronon went perfectly still. He was sweating and shaking with the strain of not moving.
“Okay?” he asked tightly.
Tony was immensely grateful for all the time Ronon had taken using his fingers to stretch him. The man’s cock felt larger than four fingers, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to do this. Several seconds went by before Tony started slowly relaxing around the intrusion. He licked his dry lips and nodded to let Ronon know it was okay. For someone who could never shut up, it was ironic that he couldn’t speak.
“Good, Tony. That’s it,” Ronon praised him, his relief obvious. He pressed forward again. “That’s it, my sweet kysra. Just stay relaxed for me.”
Tony tried. He forced himself to take deep breaths, each one allowing him to let go and relax a little more. It didn’t hurt after that, not really anyway. There was still a stretch, but the burn let up, and then it didn’t feel all that different from the way Ronon’s fingers had, though the stretch just kept going deeper inside him.
Ronon was being so careful with him that he didn’t freak out, not even when Ronon shifted over him to prop himself up on his left forearm, and Tony realized that he was purposely pinning Tony, keeping him still (helpless, his mind translated). Unless Tony really fought against him, he couldn’t move much. He had to trust Ronon would keep his promise.
They stared into each other’s eyes as Tony was filled inch-by-inch. Finally, Ronon was all the way inside. Ronon’s head dropped forward, and he groaned loudly. Tony could actually feel Ronon’s cock throb inside him. It was thick and hard and felt weirdly right to hold that part of Ronon within himself. Tony could feel the fine tremors running all through Ronon’s body as the man fought the urge to thrust. It was costing Ronon to be so careful and let Tony set the pace. That knowledge made Tony feel valued, cherished even. Definitely the first time he’d ever felt that way during sex.
That thought broke the dam, and words suddenly came in a rush. “Ronon. Ronon. Please move. Please,” he babbled. Every part of him, body and soul, wanted Ronon, wanted this act with him. Ronon hovered over Tony’s flushed face as they both gasped for air. Then he rolled his hips, and Tony could feel his scrutiny as he watched Tony’s expression for any reaction. Tony transferred his grip from the pillowcase to Ronon: one arm hooked around his neck and the other curved around his ribs.
“Hang on to me, Tony. Yeah, just like that. That’s it. So good for me.”
There was more in the same rough tone of voice. The words weren’t in any language Tony recognized, so he just let the sound wash over him and become one more level of sensation.
Ronon was moving his hips, withdrawing a fraction before sinking back in, giving Tony a chance to get used to the feeling. Then he started to pull back and thrust carefully. Tony jolted and cried out the first time Ronon’s cock hit that perfect place inside him.
Ronon groaned as he withdrew and slid home again. Tony moved with him, rolling his hips into the thrusts and making incoherent sounds he knew he’d be embarrassed about later. Tony drew Ronon down to him with a hand on the back of his neck. He desperately wanted to be kissed, and Ronon did so with unrestrained passion that made Tony aware of just how much Ronon was still holding himself back. The contrast just made everything that much hotter.
Ronon started thrusting harder, and Tony could only clench around his cock and moan into his mouth. His own cock was hard and drooling on his belly, the friction of their bodies moving together the only stimulation needed. Tony wanted to come, but he also wanted this never to end.
Eventually they were moving more by instinct than by design. They clung to each other. Sweat made their bodies slick, Tony could taste the salty flavor on Ronon’s lips when they kissed. The next thrust hit Tony’s prostate dead on and made his whole body shudder and sparks go off behind his eyes.
“Fuck!” He couldn’t help it after that. He started begging with every breath as Ronon thrust into him.
“There! Yeah. Please. Ronon. Ronon. Ohgodplease! Please!” Tony clutched at Ronon’s back and shoulders, straining to find that sensation again.
Ronon snarled something and fucked into him harder, hitting that spot nearly every time. The strength of his thrusts kept Tony from being able to do anything but cling to him. He was vaguely aware that his short, blunt nails were digging into Ronon’s skin, but he couldn’t make himself loosen his grip—not even when he knew he had to be clawing welts into Ronon’s back.
Ronon was saying something, but Tony didn’t understand it. He couldn’t hear over the pounding of his own heart whether or not the words were English.
Then Ronon added a snap of his hips at the top of each thrust, and Tony couldn’t think at all. His abdominal muscles locked down, curling his body so hard that his shoulders lifted off the bed. He tried but couldn’t stop himself from making the sharp, desperate noises every time Ronon fucked balls deep inside him. He could feel his orgasm careening wildly toward him.
Ronon let go of Tony’s leg in order to slip his hand between them and fist Tony’s cock hard and fast. Tony’s world exploded. His whole body went taut, frozen in ecstasy. His head went back, eyes unseeing and neck straining with a silent scream as he came in thick pulses all over their stomachs and Ronon’s hand.
Ronon growled something, and Tony felt it when he began to come even while he was trapped in the midst of his own orgasm. Knowing Ronon was coming inside him released a primitive part of his nature that set off that strange, wild heat deep inside him. Liquid fire suddenly became a raging inferno that sent flashes of flame shooting through already raw nerves. He shook, crying out as his body spasmed again and again.
By the time it ended, Tony was coming dry. He had to push Ronon’s hand away from his oversensitive cock as soon as he was coordinated enough to do so. Tony gasped desperately for air in the aftermath. Aftershocks nearly as forceful as a normal orgasm kept catching him by surprise, making him shudder as his muscles spasmed all over again. He had stripes of come all over his front—even on his neck and chin.
Ronon was still pressed tight against him. His head dropped to Tony’s shoulder while his cock stayed buried to the hilt inside him. Ronon’s own aftershocks made him grunt and grind his hips against Tony’s ass as if he could get any deeper. Tony didn’t know how long they lay there still intimately joined, but finally Ronon slowly withdrew, groaning low in his throat. He barely managed to collapse beside Tony, one arm draped over him, headless of the mess.
Tony stared blankly at the ceiling, his ears ringing the way he’d been told could happen when someone came really hard. He thought “really hard” was an understatement for what he’d experienced. Hell, he felt like he was still shaking inside and out.
It had been, he decided once he could pull together a coherent thought, the best, the most intense orgasm of his entire life. Hands down. A definite win. Even the Swiss judge would have agreed. Plus, he’d gotten what he wanted. He was certain that his biology, combined with the sheer amount of semen he was positive Ronon had shot inside him, would guarantee the desired result.
Now he just needed to lie there a few minutes while he regained the ability to move. Then he would figure out where his clothes had gone—and what he was going to say to Ronon. Somehow he didn’t think, ‘hey, thanks for your sperm and for making getting knocked up a good time’ would go over very well. Nor did he want to treat Ronon so callously. Not when he’d been so good to Tony.
Ronon was incredible. If only he weren’t going to leave the next day. If only Tony could go with him. If, if, if… “If wishes were fishes, we'd walk on the sea,” one housekeeper used to say to him when he was little. He’d learned back then that there was no point in wishing. Besides. Ronon deserved far better than Tony.
Underneath everything was a whisper of a thought that maybe Ronon was right and Tony wasn’t the one who’d been the problem all this time. Admittedly, no man Tony’d ever met prior would have had the patience to deal with his hang-ups, but that still didn’t mean Tony was the one who was lacking. Maybe Tony deserved better than he’d always accepted.
Tony regretted that this was the way things had to be. He found himself wishing despite himself. Wishing…well, wishing for things he knew he couldn’t have.
Chapter 6
Ronon lay curled against Tony’s back, his arm around zyr waist. He was feeling a mess of emotions: triumph, satisfaction, warm affection, possessiveness, and fear. (Though he’d never admit to the last, not even under threat of wraith.)
Earlier, he’d made a necessary trip to the bathroom, both to wipe off and to use the facilities. By the time he’d gotten back to the bed with a towel and hot washcloth for Tony, zy was curled on zyr side, sound asleep. Admittedly, Ronon had taken time in the bathroom to smugly admire his back in the mirror, which showed several sets of welts where Tony’d clawed the crap out of him, and a couple of places where zy’d broken the skin. He hadn’t taken that long, though.
Zy didn’t even wake when Ronon wiped zyr down with both cloth and towel, nor when he gently slid zyr upper leg forward so he could check zyr cloa to be sure he hadn’t torn zyr. He’d been concerned. Despite the time they took to open zyr with his fingers, Tony had been very, very tight, and Ronon had not been careful or gentle toward the end. He was relieved when he saw Tony was perfectly fine, though undoubtedly tender.
With zyr masks gone in zyr sleep, Tony looked beautiful and vulnerable. Zy still seemed tense, though, zyr eyebrows drawing together in a frown. It compelled Ronon to curl around zyr and cover them both with the blankets. There was something about Tony that triggered every protective instinct Ronon had.
He nuzzled his nose into the fine, sweat-damp hairs at Tony’s hairline. It probably had a lot to do with zyr being the first kysra Ronon had actually spent time with since they all been murdered in Pegasus, but there was something more there too. Tony seemed heart-sore.
It wasn’t that he thought he needed to protect zyr physically. From zyr muscle tone and the scars on Tony’s body, zy obviously knew how to fight and survive. Trying to tell a kysra zy needed to be meek, mild and stay home having babies and wearing soft clothes was a good way to get a quality ass-kicking—and sleep alone for all eternity. Ronon would no more suggest such a thing to Tony than he would to Teyla.
Although, if he was being honest with himself, Ronon did have to admit he wanted to protect Tony when it came to sex. Zy could say all zy wanted about not having been hurt, but zyr body told a different story. It shouldn’t have been surprising, since he’d learned how Earthers thought about and treated the kysra, but it still had been. Tony might not have been forced, but it was clearer than the waters of New Lantea that no one had ever given a damn about Tony’s needs.
Kysra were designed to be sensual, sexual creatures. Somehow the kysra on Earth had been made to feel ashamed of their bodies and their needs for so long that they, and the rest of society, just accepted that disgusting attitude as the truth. Ronon didn’t understand how that could have happened, but it had. He was certain it had to have been the so-called Ancestors’ faults, those wraith-fucking cowards. Tony was no exception to that wrong thinking, yet by the Five, zy was amazing. All he’d had to do was treat zyr kindly and take the time to show Tony zy could trust him, and Tony went from tense and wary to beautifully responsive. Ronon was afraid his ego would be too large to fit through the gate if he thought too much about how he had been the first to show zyr how extraordinary zyr body was.
Ronon had been shocked when Tony had told him zy didn’t even use zyr fingers inside zyrself. More so when he realized Tony had never experienced any pleasurable penetration much less multiple orgasms. He’d bet his particle gun it had never even occurred to Tony that a cloa orgasm was possible, which made Ronon feel a little crazy. Crap, the stupid Earthers probably didn’t even call a kysra’s cloa by the right name. Idiots probably called it—and thought of it—as an anus. Yet another thing to lay at the feet of the Alterans, he’d bet.
How did Earthers think kysra got pregnant if their opening functioned the same as an anus? Unlike idiotic Earthers, every Satedan knew the Five had designed zyr to be the best aspects of both men and women. Kysra could sire and conceive, and they could control when, or if, they chose to do either. The Old Ones always indulged the kysra and blessed them and the villages where they lived, whether that was with a plentiful harvest or safety from warring clans. Many kysra became healers, spreading the Old Ones’ blessing directly to the Satedans who were born, lived, and died under their care. Just as the name implied, Satedans were in every way “descendants of the kysra.” Sateda was simply the “place of the descendants.”
The kysra were Lifebringers, and all Satedans knew if they wished to become a kysra’s lover, they’d better be prepared to prove themselves as generous lovers, providers, and protectors. No kysra would tolerate a man or woman who took zyr for granted. That had been true before the Alterans came, and it was even more so after the Alterans and the wraith destroyed the prosperity of Pegasus’ worlds.
Though it wasn’t required, the kysra’s chosen mates tended to be above average in intelligence as well. Ronon found that ironic, since the Earthers assumed he was anything but. They had no way of knowing he had earned what he estimated was the equivalent of Earth’s Master’s degree in literature and historical studies, all while he was training and working his way up to Specialist.
Ronon didn’t know how much, if any, of that mindset had survived in Earther kysra, but he knew he only had one night to prove himself. He could tell that Tony thought it was weird for Ronon to feed zyr and take care of zyr like he had, but hopefully some part of Tony wouldn’t want to give that up. Still, proving himself as a generous lover and provider was easier than figuring out how to prove himself a good protector. Although, it was true that protection didn’t always mean physical protection. Ronon figured he’d just continue to take care of Tony as he had been. Surely that would be enough to set him apart from any lovers zy had taken previously.
Ronon nuzzled Tony’s shoulder, wishing he could actually smell Tony’s distinctive kysra scent instead of the Earther perfumed products zy used. A selfish, primitive part of Ronon wanted to mark Tony with his own scent too, but that would have to wait. Tony needed zyr rest.
Ronon sighed quietly.
From the way Tony acted, and even from the way Ronon’s Earther friends talked, it was clear that the Alteran disdain for sensuality had lasted all the millennia they had been gone, which Ronon just did not understand. Hell, by the time Ronon had been thirteen, he’d figured out that the best part of having a body was discovering out the myriad of ways you could use it to get off and otherwise experience life’s pleasures. Sure, he didn’t overindulge, but bodies were made to be enjoyed. Sex was fun. If you forgot that, you ended up becoming fools who did shit like combining bug and human DNA to create the wraith.
See, look at that. If the Alterans had spent more time fucking, the wraith might never have existed. Billions and billions of humans could have been saved from agonizing death if only the fools had worried more about pleasure and less about doing their insane experiments just to prove they could. Instead, Pegasus had the wraith, and the worthless bastards who couldn’t be bothered to get rid of the problem before becoming impotent busybodies. The dickless-wonders.
Ronon grit his teeth. He’d better stop that train of thought before he disturbed Tony. Better to think about the beautiful kysra sleeping in his arms. Ronon’s hand drifted low to rest over Tony’s belly where he hoped that his child had been conceived and was growing cell-by-cell even now. The Old Ones truly had been watching over Ronon to permit him the opportunity to woo such a stunning kysra. He just hoped that Tony felt Ronon was worthy of zyr. Even if zy had conceived his child, Ronon would not—had no right to—force zyr to come to Atlantis. He had to trust Tony would want to do so once zy knew how zy would be treasured.
Ronon did have to wonder why Tony had been searching for someone tonight. All zyr reactions said zy was afraid of zyr cloa being touched or penetrated, yet Tony had said zy had come to the bar wanting that very thing. Zy hadn’t even suggested they use something to prevent children either. While it was possible that zy had intended to request it but had forgotten, Ronon doubted it. Tony had almost panicked when Ronon had suggested there were other things they could do together.
The only explanation that made sense was that Tony had come to the bar with the intention of conceiving a child. But why?
Perhaps zy had not found anyone worthy of spending zyr life with, but zy was ready to have a child of zyr own. That had happened on Sateda at times. Even as unfamiliar with Earth culture as he was, Ronon could recognize the hotel as a place for the rich. If Tony were seeking a wealthy sire for zyr child, it was a logical choice. If that was the case, Tony would be horribly disappointed in him. Ronon didn’t even own the clothing he’d been wearing tonight.
That question would have to wait. Tony’s breathing began to change and zy began to wake. Ronon kissed the back of zyr neck. He felt the instant zy woke and became aware zy was not in bed alone, and then the instant zy remembered where zy was and, Ronon hoped, with whom.
Tony rubbed zyr eyes and yawned.
“Hey,” Tony’s voice was husky with sleep, and no wonder. Zy hadn’t slept more than an hour or so.
Ronon lifted his head and propped himself up on his elbow.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, capturing Tony’s hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss.
Tony’s lips quirked, but zy allowed the tender gesture. “Like I’ve gotta use the restroom. Do you mind if I…?” Zy made a vague gesture to the bathroom door.
“Course not,” Ronon assured zyr.
He reluctantly didn’t follow when Tony sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed and pushed to zyr feet, heading into the bathroom.
Ronon too got out of bed, though for a different reason. He placed a call to room service and was promised everything would be at the room within a few minutes. Since he assumed he should be wearing something when he answered the door, he located the long robe that had been packed for him in the suitcase.
It was amusing to see what Major Wu had managed to come up with for him on such short notice. The robe was a little short on him, but it covered him to his knees.
Tony was still in the bathroom when the room service arrived. Ronon had been about to knock on the door to make sure zy was alright, but now he would have to wait.
He was pleased that, as had happened the first time he’d placed an order, the young man with the cart was very good at his job. Everything was set out, the previous tray and plates were removed, and the man and his cart were quickly out the door.
The Major had given Ronon several pieces of paper that took the place of precious stones or metals when trading or making payment. He’d also explained the concept of giving someone a “tip,” so Ronon gave one of the papers to the room service man, who left looking very happy. Ronon gave a mental shrug.
Tony finally came out of the bathroom just as Ronon was closing the outer door.
“Someone at the door?”
As Tony moved toward him, Ronon noticed zy had found one of the long, fluffy, white robes that he’d seen folded on a counter in the bathroom when he’d been in there.
“Yeah, I ordered food.”
Tony looked like zy was about to protest, so Ronon lifted the cover to reveal the two hamburgers and fries. Tony’s stomach growled before zy could say anything. Ronon grinned, and Tony rolled zyr eyes.
“I’m hungry, so I figured you must be too. I didn’t know what some of the stuff on the menu was,” Ronon admitted, “but hamburgers seemed pretty safe.”
Tony didn’t deny it, but zy seemed hesitant. Zy did join Ronon on the sofa, so Ronon called it a win.
The burger was two or three times as thick as the ones they got on Atlantis, and it tasted different than he’d expected. It was really good though. Not cooked so long the meat had dried out. The fries had weird little green bits on them. Tony didn’t seem surprised, so Ronon just assumed it was spice of some sort.
Ronon hadn’t thought about trying to talk while they were eating. He was so used to being the silent one at the table. (McKay talked enough for everyone.) He didn’t know what he’d do if Tony asked much more about his past or where he lived now. He didn’t want to lie or tell zyr it was classified, which was what Sheppard had told him to do if anyone asked, but he didn’t think he could just tell zyr about being from another galaxy. Zy would probably think he was crazy.
Ronon had always thought that the Earther governments keeping information about the stargate from their people like they did wasn’t a good idea, and now it was making his life more difficult. Fortunately, Tony mostly seemed interested in eating. Unfortunately, there was a tension about zyr that Ronon didn’t know what to do with. Oh sure, Ronon knew that kysra would not expect to be treated the same as men and women on Earth, but knowing something in his head was one thing. Seeing the evidence of it before his eyes was completely different, especially when zy was the kysra he’d made love to not long ago.
Ronon was Specialist Dex, a protector. He always would be. There was no way for Tony to know that, though. As far as Tony knew, Ronon was an Earther, so zy had no reason to expect him to treat zyr as more than a hole to be fucked. Tony had a great mask and was good at pretending, but Ronon was quite aware of the confusion that flickered across zyr features when Ronon did or said something zy wasn’t expecting. Well, he would go on as he’d begun and trust the Old Ones to take care of the details.
“You alright, Tony?” Ronon finally asked. He had finished his food minutes ago, and Tony was merely picking at the other half of zyr burger. Zy’d hardly touched the fries.
Tony looked up, startled, before attempting to cover with a smile. “Of course. I was just thinking I’d better get going.” Zy shrugged one shoulder.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Ronon hoped he’d done a better job disguising his panic than Tony had zyrs.
Tony blinked, zyr brow furrowing and a wary look settling over zyr features.
“Oh?”
Ronon cocked his head to the side and studied his lover. What had he said now to make zyr look at him like that?
“I’d really like it if you stayed with me. You don’t have to, of course. I’m just selfish and want you as long as I can have you, m’kysra.”
“There’s that Satedan word again,” Tony deflected. At least zyr smile was less forced now. “You’ve already had me, so you don’t have to try to seduce me anymore, Ronon.”
One side of Ronon’s lips quirked up. He reached for Tony’s hand, gently tugging zyr next to him on the long sofa. Ronon kissed zyr softly. He pulled back only to slip one arm around Tony and cradle zyr cheek in his other hand, his thumb a back-and-forth whisper of a caress.
Tony was clearly bemused, but zy permitted it.
“I’m not from here: I actually know how to treat my lover.”
Tony snickered at his arrogant declaration. “True. I promised you an evaluation, and I definitely give you 10 out of 10.”
“But you can’t yet. The night’s not over—” Ronon raised an eyebrow. “—unless you want it to be.”
“Maybe not yet,” Tony said slowly, studying Ronon.
“Good. I want to kiss you some more.” He tilted his head so their lips could meet, the taste of their very late snack not a deterrent at all.
“I wasn’t totally honest with you earlier,” Ronon confessed when they parted for breath. “Kysra is far more than just a pet name to call your lover in bed. It’s the word for what you are.”
A series of expressions flickered across Tony’s features. Confusion. Wariness. Guarded curiosity.
Ronon took hope from that last one and went on, “Kysra is the word for what your language calls ‘deltas,” he almost snarled the term and had to get control of himself quickly, “but it’s so much more than just a word for your gender. Kysra also means ‘beloved,’ yet it is only ever used respectfully and reverently for one who is kysra.”
“What?” Tony was clearly baffled.
“I can tell by your face it seems very strange to you, and that breaks my heart.” Taking Tony’s hand, Ronon pressed the palm over his own heart. “To understand, you need to know how someone like you is viewed by my people. My people believe that our Vedaeus, our Old Ones—what you might think of as gods—combined a man and a woman, keeping only the best parts of both natures. From parts of their names came a single name: Kysra.
“The Vedaeus made it clear that Kysra was their chosen, their beloved. From that time forward, any children who were naturally born the way the Old Ones had created Kysra were called by the same name in order to remind us all to treasure them as the people from that time treasured the first Kysra.”
Tony shook zyr head, looking puzzled. “Crazy. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Any culture I’ve ever heard of views deltas as a quirk in the gene pool at best and an oddity to be eliminated at worst. Stalin and Hitler certainly tried their hardest. So did many others throughout history.”
Ronon’s expression turned dark. “I know there are a lot of good things about people, but for their treatment of kysra, I hate them. If any one of my people treated kysra as they are commonly treated in your culture, that person would have been exiled.” If they made it to exile, he thought with grim satisfaction. “Satedans respect and adore our kysra, Tony, as you should be respected and adored.”
“Wow.” Tony’s eyebrows shot up nearly to zyr hairline. Zyr natural curiosity had taken over. “In America, we can’t even get most people to agree that there is discrimination against us most of the time.”
“I know,” Ronon murmured, kissing zyr, merely a brush of lips. “Your culture doesn’t even have a proper way to refer to you. They make you choose ‘him’ or ‘her’ when there should be another word just for kysra. Satedans, we say ‘zy’ and ‘zyr.’”
“Huh,” Tony looked intrigued. “So you’d say, ‘Zy has brown hair, and I think zyr eyes are green?’”
“Exactly. So when I call you kysra, I’m honoring your nature and that you are the beloved of the Old Ones. There is a variation of the word, though. When a man or woman is so fortunate as to be taken as a kysra’s lover, they still call zyr kysra, of course, but they might also say m’kysra—my beloved, my heart.”
“You’ve said that to me,” Tony said quietly, vulnerability in zyr eyes.
“Yeah, I have,” Ronon readily agreed, coaxing his kysra onto his lap. “You’re a beautiful person who lives in a world where you have to worry about how you will be treated, yet you came to my bed, trusted me with your body. You took pleasure at my touch, and in turn, let me take pleasure within you. How could I experience that and not adore you?”
Tony flushed from the tips of zyr ears all the way down zyr throat. Zy turned zyr head, forcing a laugh. “You weren’t listening earlier when I said you don’t have to seduce me, were you? Your country’s kysra might need all that stuff, but I don’t.”
Ronon slid his right arm around zyr and used his left hand to tilt zyr chin back to him. “I’m only telling you the way I see things. You might not need me to say it, but you deserve to know that I treasure how you’ve shared yourself with me.”
He bent his head and touched their lips together again, swallowing Tony’s sigh as zy put zyr own arms around him and kissed him back. Ronon was quite certain he was right about something else, too: Tony might say zy didn’t need sweet words, but zy wanted them just the same.
Ronon nuzzled Tony’s cheek, placing a kiss there. “Will you stay with me tonight, Tony? I’d like to keep you with me even if it’s just to sleep, though I freely admit I’m hoping you’ll let me have you again.”
Tony’s answering nod and smile were small but real, and Ronon couldn’t stop himself from kissing zyr again. He was sure Tony’s lips would feature in his fantasies for a long time.
“You should finish your meal, though. You’re going to need the energy,” Ronon teased eventually.
Tony laughed and squirmed a bit, glancing at zyr plate. “Oh, really? Well, I was actually done, but now I see how it is. If you feed me, it means you want to keep me. When you quit, it’s time for me to go home.”
“If that’ll work so you let me keep you, I’ll order everything on the list.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “How long are you thinking to keep me here?”
“For as long as you’ll let me,” Ronon responded promptly, knowing Tony had no idea how serious he was.
Green eyes glittering, Tony flashed him a wicked smile and stood, turning to saunter toward the bed. Part way there, the white robe dropped to the floor.
“Well, what are you waiting for, a written invitation?” Zy sprawled out on the soft sheets, stretching out and arching zyr back, one hand going to zyr cock and stroking it to full hardness.
Ronon found himself naked on his knees, prowling up the length of Tony’s body before he’d made the conscious decision to rise. He nuzzled zyr belly on his way up and flicked his tongue out to taste. Tony must have washed in the bathroom earlier because zy no longer tasted of their sweat and sex. It bothered Ronon more than it should have. Base instinct urged him to mark his lover once more.
Tony welcomed his kiss, opening sweetly to him. There was only a little of that odd hesitancy followed by desperation, as if Tony was afraid that if the kiss wasn’t a battle, it would be over. Ronon wasn’t sure Tony even realized zy was doing it, but he’d figured out the key was to make slow sweeps with his thumb against zyr jawline. The gentle touch calmed zyr until zy relaxed and allowed a more sensual give and take.
Ronon drew back enough to purr, “You are so gorgeous, so perfect. If I said I truly wanted to keep you, would you let me?”
Tony’s laugh was a little breathless. “Now I know that’s your dick talking. I’m not perfect.”
Kissing his way to that sensitive place on zyr neck, just beneath the hinge of zyr jaw, Ronon sucked to darken his earlier mark, remembering just in time to keep his teeth away from Tony’s skin.
“Well, whoever told you that was an idiot who couldn’t see what was right in front of his face.”
The wry smile that twisted Tony’s lips was full of self-depreciation. “I highly doubt that.”
Ronon kissed him tenderly before telling him, “A fool is a fool, whether alone in his foolishness or with a thousand like-minded, Tony.” He cupped Tony’s cheek and pressed kisses to zyr forehead, zyr cheeks, and the tip of zyr nose. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt, but don’t let that fool cast his shadow onto your heart.”
Tony held Ronon’s hand to zyr face as zy nuzzled into it.
Zy snickered.
“What is it?”
Zy shook zyr head, kissing the base of Ronon’s thumb.
“Someone I know doesn’t believe in apologies. He actually has a rule about it: ‘Never apologize. It’s a sign of weakness.’”
Ronon rolled his eyes and gently mocked, “Didn’t we just get finished talking about fools?” making Tony laugh again.
Ronon rolled to his back, pulling Tony on top of him as he said in exasperation, “Honestly, I don’t know how your culture has survived this long. It’s the biggest fool of all who cannot admit his error, nor feel and express genuine sorrow to those he has hurt. In my language, we’d call someone like that sa’te wreth.”
“What’s it mean?” Tony asked, intrigued.
“It’s profanity, obviously. Kind of like if you called someone worthless son of a whore in English,” he explained. The literal translation was actually ‘descendent of a wraith’ or ‘wraith hidden in human skin,’ but that wouldn’t mean much to Tony. “It’s meant to say that the person is someone who sucks life from others without regard for the harm he does. It’s pretty much the worst insult there is in my language.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Fighting words, huh?”
“Yep. Definitely.” Ronon smiled, brushing his thumb against Tony’s cheek. “How about we leave the fools out of our bed?” He aligned their hips and began grinding against zyr. “I’ll keep thinking you’re perfect, and you’ll at least consider the idea. In the meantime, we’ll see how perfectly our bodies come together when we make love.”
Tony laughed aloud . “Sappy and way over the top, but…” zy gave Ronon a slow, heated smile, “I think I can live with it for now.”
Tony initiated the kiss this time, and Ronon allowed himself to let go and revel in the fire that burned so brightly between them. He smoothed his strong hands down Tony’s back to zyr hips and back up. They thrust together, their precome slicking the way for their cocks to slide against each other.
Ronon wanted to see Tony fall apart, but he didn’t want it to be so fast this time. No, this time he would show zyr what zyr body was truly capable of.
Tony was eager, moaning and rocking against him confidently. Ronon wondered if half his excitement this time was the way Tony didn’t flinch, didn’t even hesitate as they touched and pleasured each other. In fact, Tony was clenching zyr fingers so hard zy probably was leaving bruises on Ronon’s skin as zy moved against him. If so, Ronon would wear them with pride, just as he wore zyr marks on his back.
Ronon slid his hands down Tony’s back, this time following zyr body’s natural curves until he reached the vulnerable heart of zyr.
Tony broke away on a moan and spread zyr legs, opening zyrself to Ronon. He rewarded zyr by slipping his middle finger inside to test the give. A shudder went through zyr.
“Yessss…” Zy hissed zyr response into Ronon’s throat and arched zyr back, wanting more.
Tony must have washed here too, otherwise there still would have been a mixture of Tony’s slick mixed with Ronon’s seed escaping zyr cloa. Well, Ronon would soon help zyr bring back zyr slick, and he fully intended to come inside zyr at least once more.
With Tony eager instead of wary, Ronon didn’t have to be nearly as careful. He still made sure every touch brought zyr pleasure, but it was easier now. He pushed Tony higher and higher, and Tony was as enthusiastic a participant as he could’ve ever hoped for. Zy quite happily took zyr turn at exploring, sitting astride Ronon’s hips and rubbing over his cock without allowing him to penetrate. Tony laughed when Ronon got frustrated enough he growled and fliped them to take his turn at teasing.
Only when Tony had lost any inhibition and was demanding Ronon fuck zyr “now, dammit!” did Ronon finally coax zyr onto zyr side, facing away from him. He moved Tony until zyr bottom leg was curled forward, and the top was nearly touching zyr chest. Then he eased behind zyr, halfway on his knees to give him leverage.
As he’d promised, if only to himself, Tony’s buttocks and thighs were damp and tacky with zyr slick. Tony arched zyr back deeply and keened when Ronon entered zyr in one slow, smooth stroke. He held there until Tony snarled at him.
“Fuck me, Ronon! Now! If you don’t let me come, I will kick your ass!”
Too bad Tony couldn’t see Ronon’s feral grin. This was his kysra. His kysra should never be afraid of what zy wanted, nor hesitant to demand zyr due. He slid his arm beneath zyr, trapping both of zyr arms against zyr chest. His other hand went to zyr shin, which he pulled tight to zyr torso.
Having already gotten Tony nearly to the edge twice, Ronon made no attempt to go slow now. He thrust with short, hard strokes that grazed zyr prostate. Snarls became moans of relief, but those soon turned to curses when Tony realized zy was trapped in Ronon’s hold, unable to touch zyr cock to give zyr that final push that would let zyr come.
Ronon licked the sweat from Tony’s neck and sucked a bruise there. Zyr scent was intoxicating—spicy, yet sweet too—and so much better now that the Earther perfumes were finally being overpowered. Ronon almost wished he’d put zyr on zyr knees so he could lick and suck the salty-sweetness from zyr cloa. Next time, he promised himself.
“So hot, so wet,” he purred. “No one else has seen you, felt you like this, have they? They’ve never felt your cloa grip their cock as you take your pleasure.”
“Bastard!” Tony hissed.
Ronon chuckled, vibrations traveling from his body to zyr, and he sucked another mark into being, this time closer to zyr shoulder. “I know. I’m an ass. I shouldn’t be glad your previous lovers were worthless in bed, but I’m selfish. I admit it. I like knowing you’re only this hot, this wild with me.”
Feeling Tony’s inner muscles begin to quiver, Ronon snapped his hips, his pace becoming almost brutal. He and Tony would probably end up with corresponding hip and thigh bruises.
“I’m glad because none of them deserved to know you like this. None of them saw you. None of them treasured you. But I do. I always will. You’re perfect. Beautiful. Mine!”
Tony gasped sharply and came untouched, cock spurting over zyr stomach and both their arms as orgasm shook zyr.
“So good for me, m’kysra. My amazing, perfect lover.”
Ronon slowed his thrusts and shifted them until they were mostly on their stomachs. He needed better leverage to keep going. His own body was screaming at him to hurry and finish, but he willed it under control. He’d be damned for a wraith if he didn’t share this with Tony while he had the chance.
“You didn’t come?” Tony panted, shuddering on every inward thrust.
“Not yet,” he growled. He felt like his blood was on fire. He was just barely able to control his desire to bite and pin his lover that way too.
Both Ronon’s arms held Tony and trapped zyr arms in place as well as bracing Ronon up and keeping him from smothering zyr.
“Want to show you something.”
Tony half groaned, half laughed. “A’rdy did,” zy mumbled in protest, rubbing zyr flushed cheek on the mattress. Still, zy let Ronon position zyr as he wanted.
“No,” Ronon disagreed. He sucked on Tony’s earlobe, then followed the curve of it with his tongue. “Make you come again.”
Tony moaned and rolled zyr sweaty forehead against the bed, muffling zyr words. “Can’t. ‘mpossible.”
“Sounds like you’re challenging me,” Ronon rumbled, keeping his slow pace. He’d never actually gotten to experience this. He knew it was possible, but only if Tony trusted him at a subconscious level that would allow zyr body to respond. From all he’d read, and from what those who were mated or married to kysra had told him when he’d become engaged, the cloa multiple orgasm was supposed to be intense and amazing for both partners.
Tony just groaned.
Ronon got his weight on his right knee so he could get his other leg between Tony’s. He widened his stance, forcing Tony’s legs farther apart too. He adjusted his grip on Tony’s upper body, slipping his forearms beneath zyr until he could curl his hands around Tony’s shoulders to keep zyr from sliding up the bed.
“Just trust me,” he murmured into zyr ear.
He began with a few shallow thrusts to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally hurt Tony in this position. Zy moaned softly, so he thrust deep and began rolling his hips, barely withdrawing before thrusting in hard. Ronon knew he had to stay as deep as possible to stimulate the places that only became sensitive enough to react this way during and just following a kysra’s orgasm. Despite his body’s urging, Ronon forced himself to stay inside, struggling to find the right spots. It was incredibly difficult not to just give in and pound Tony into the mattress.
Tony had started whining, zyr hot, slick cloa grasping at him. He stayed pressed tight to zyr, his feet and knees digging into the bed as he churned and rolled his hips, his cock throbbing within zyr. He kept moving, and, just as he’d been told he would, he could feel those stronger, deeper muscles begin to tremble around the head of his cock every time the angle and pressure were just right.
“Ronon!”
“You’re perfect, m’kysra,” Ronon reassured zyr. “S’posed to happen. Just let it.”
Tony sobbed, beginning the full-body trembling Ronon was expecting.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he promised.
Tony didn’t respond but dropped zyr head back to the mattress, mewling and whimpering incoherently. Tony started to shudder, zyr body giving in and telling Ronon zyr orgasm was about to be triggered, for which he thanked the Five. He was going to lose his own mind if he didn’t get to come soon.
Tony was making soft whining noises that went straight to Ronon’s cock and made him want to just give in and fuck zyr, but he forced himself to continue with the constant rolling motions, changing the angle slightly when he had to reposition because his knees were sliding on the sheets again.
That did it. Tony began to jerk in sudden, spastic movements as if zy’d been struck by lightning. Zy howled and dug clawed fingers into the bedding and Ronon’s arms. Tony gasped in desperate breaths and keened helplessly, high in zyr throat, then went silent as zy finally shattered.
Ronon lost control and began to come as Tony’s cloa seized tight around him, clamping down and making it impossible for him to move at all. Zyr internal muscles began convulsing around his cock. It felt like being swallowed repeatedly, each rhythmic contraction forcing another surge of come from him. He had no idea how long it went on, just that it soon became both agony and ecstasy.
Ronon squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. His forehead dropped to Tony’s shoulder, sucking in oxygen whenever he could, unable to move, to do anything but feel. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Tony’s orgasm went on and on; even the smallest movement from either of them prompted another round of internal convulsions and spasms that shook them both.
Ronon couldn’t think. He could only gasp and grunt against Tony’s shoulder until the white glittering at the edges of his vision took over completely.
*~*~*~*
Ronon blinked, quickly coming back to himself. He must not have been out long because he was still out of breath. Tony’s cloa had mostly relaxed around his cock, thank the Five, though fine shivers still traveled through zyr body, making zyr clench down on him randomly.
Slowly, gingerly, Ronon withdrew his cock from his lover’s body, hissing at how oversensitive it was. His balls ached as if every drop of come he’d ever produced hand been forcibly sucked out of him. Damn, he’d seriously underestimated how intense that would be. He felt dazed, like he’d been given the really good drugs. He could only imagine what Tony was thinking and feeling right now.
There would be plenty of time for whimpering in bed later. Right now, he needed to take care of his kysra.
“Tony? M’kysra?” The only sounds from his lover were zyr uneven, hitched breaths that sounded far too much like sobs. Ronon worriedly turned zyr onto zyr side as gently as possible. He winced when he saw the tears still trailing from beneath zyr lashes onto zyr cheeks. He had no way to know if it was distress or a physiological response. Tony was in no shape to tell him either.
Pulling himself together, he grabbed one of the smaller towels he’d put next to the bed and gently wiped the sweat, come, and slick from Tony’s trembling body. Ronon’s own hands were none too steady yet, but he was able to move zyr to the other side of the bed and cover zyr with the blankets. Then he took care of wiping himself down and getting rid of the towels. He was glad he’d moved Tony because the towel he’d put under them hadn’t done much to prevent the big wet spot.
If he’d had the energy, Ronon might have preened at being the cause of so much slick. Like the whimpering, the gloating would have to wait until later too. Instead, he turned the light out and got in bed himself, taking Tony into his arms and cradling zyr against him. He stroked zyr back and kissed face and lips, murmuring loving words no one else would have even believed he knew.
“’Uh-Non?” Tony finally slurred.
At hearing what he thought was the last part of his name, Ronon released the tension he’d had since he’d regained his senses.
“Tony, amalecto, are you alright? Did I hurt you?”
Tony hmm’d softly and burrowed into his chest. Zy seemed exhausted now instead of in shock like zy’d been before.
Going with his instincts, Ronon didn’t speak. He just kept stroking zyr back and hips, soothing zyr and easing zyr back into the world.
“Sl’p no’?” Tony mumbled, eyes shut and half way there already.
“Yeah, m’kysra, we’ll sleep now,” Ronon agreed, ready to give in to his own exhaustion.
As they lay there, it occurred to him that he’d become more emotionally attached to Tony in a single night than he ever had anyone else. Ronon held zyr a little tighter. Even if his plan didn’t work, if somehow Tony did not conceive, Ronon would still push to get the Earthers to allow zyr to come with him. He wanted Tony with him in Atlantis. There was something special about zyr, something in addition to zyr being a kysra that made Ronon want zyr. He could easily see falling in love with Tony; he just hoped zy would see him as worthy of zyr love too.
Chapter 7
Tony woke gradually. He could tell it was early yet, and he was extremely grateful. He was lying on his side, his limbs were heavy with exhaustion, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. He wasn’t sure why he was awake even now, which made him feel cranky. Ronon definitely had not been kidding about his bedroom prowess. (And where exactly was Mr. Energizer?)
His head was impossibly heavy, and his brain was fuzzy with residual euphoria that made him feel like he’d been blackout-drunk the night before, but without the nasty hangover. No need for the DiNozzo Defibrillator today. His brain was sending him every possible signal it had to tell him he’d done exactly what he was designed for. If he’d had any question about what that was, the throbbing ache in his ass would’ve cleared that right up.
It dawned on him that, from the sheer amount of endorphins rushing through his bloodstream that left him feeling so out of it he could barely count to one, there was about a ten-billion-to-one chance he wasn’t pregnant. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or terrified.
He drew his knees up, his breath catching as his body reported in with a multitude of complaints. His abdominal muscles felt like he’d spent the previous night doing set after set of crunches. His hip joints and thigh muscles ached worse than that time he’d taken an advanced pilates class to impress someone.
His jaw ached from clenching it to hold back the more ridiculous noises he tended to make. His throat was sore, and he was pretty sure it was because he’d failed miserably at the whole not screaming his head off thing. Even his fingers ached from where he’d had them clenched tightly around the headboard. And in the bedding. And in Ronon’s back.
That didn’t even begin to cover the bruises he could feel. Ronon had never been rough, but he was damned strong. He had, in the heat of the moment, gripped too tight and held too hard a few times. Especially that second (or did it count as the third?) time when he’d pinned Tony on his stomach and made him orgasm so hard he’d nearly lost his mind. Tony had never had an anal orgasm much less one that lasted for what felt like hours. That had been… Tony didn’t even have words for what to call it.
Yeah. He was certain most of the bruises were from that, but he couldn’t complain after coming so hard for so long he’d lost IQ points. Frankly, he’d come hard enough last night that he wouldn’t be surprised if he really had lost brain cells. Ronon had done things to him that he hadn’t ever dreamed would feel good much less make him come like that.
Tony blinked to clear his blurry vision, again wondering where Ronon had gone. If he’d had the energy, he would have groaned. He didn’t, so he just closed his eyes again, hoping to fall back asleep. He didn’t even have the energy to pull up the blankets from where they’d slid low on his hips. His dick was barely covered, but he couldn’t be bothered to care at this point.
Shit, if he was this wiped out despite all the endorphins, he really didn’t want to know what he’d feel like without them.
“Hey.” The bed dipped, and Tony opened his eyes reluctantly as Ronon sat next to him. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Tony grumbled something unintelligible. He hoped Ronon understood it meant, “More sleep now.”
“It’s still really early. I have to make a call, but we have a plenty of time. You could go back to sleep,” his lover said quietly, his gaze a warm touch trailing down Tony’s body. It was amazing how such a huge guy could look at him with such gentle affection. Was it any wonder Ronon had caught Tony’s attention and gotten into his pants last night?
“M’kay,” Tony managed, closing his eyes again. He hummed contentedly when Ronon drew the sheet and comforter back up over his too-cool skin, tucking them around him. Maybe when he woke up next time, he’d think up a plan to keep Ronon in DC for a while.
*~*~*~*
Ronon noted with amusement that Tony seemed to fall asleep between one breath and the next.
Once he was sure Tony was sleeping soundly, he found the little portable communicator he’d been given in case of emergency and entered the codes he’d memorized that would let him talk to Sheppard. There was a ringing sound a few times, then Sheppard’s voice.
“Sheppard.”
It was obvious Sheppard had just woken up but was trying not to sound like it.
“Sheppard, hey.” Ronon said.
There was a pause, then an incredulous, “Ronon?!”
“Yeah. Need your help.”
“Of course. Where are you? How are you even calling me?” A pause and then, disgruntled, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Good. The Adams Hotel in some city; Freemont would know. Kept that thing—phone—you gave me. And…” he paused, pretending to need to find a clock. “… 5:03.”
Another pause. Clearly, Sheppard didn’t know how to take that. Ronon felt cruel sometimes, but Sheppard would never believe it was him if he just started explaining things and using words with more than two syllables.
“Okaaay,” Sheppard drawled. “Maybe we should start with the easy stuff. Why are you in an Adams Hotel on the East Coast, since that’s what time it is there?”
“Talked Freemont into letting me stay in a hotel overnight so I could watch cable TV and order room service.”
Silence.
“Ronon, did McKay put you up to this?”
Ronon could almost see that squinty look Sheppard got sometimes when he suspected someone was trying to pull crap on him but wasn’t sure enough that he could kick their asses without feeling guilty.
“No,” Ronon answered gruffly. “Why would McKay care if I ordered room service?”
It was too easy sometimes.
A huge sigh. “Okay. Right.” Another sigh. “So let’s just assume I’m going along with this. You’re still in the hotel, right?”
“Yeah.”
Sheppard rattled off quickly, “Have you killed and/or maimed anyone, been wounded yourself, or are in immediate danger of any sort?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I guess that’s good. But you still need my help.”
Ronon was silent. Usually Sheppard was a little better at this, but he sounded tired. He’d probably been up late talking with his brother. He probably wasn’t as tired as Ronon was. If he hadn’t absolutely had to be awake, he’d have killed anyone who tried to get him out of bed and away from his kysra.
“Okay.” Sheppard took a deep breath. “So what can I do for you, Ronon?” he asked with forced lightness.
Ronon allowed himself to make a face. This was so unnatural, but it was necessary. He’d have to stick to Earther terms until he could explain properly.
“I went down to the bar last night. Found a delta. Drank expensive vodka. Seduced my delta. Now he’s asleep in my bed, pregnant with my baby, and I wanna take him back home with us.”
There was an enormous crash, several loud thunks, and the distant sound of someone choking.
Ronon waited patiently through the additional noises of the phone being slid along a smooth surface, picked up, dropped, and picked up again before Sheppard came back on.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, “you—I—what?!?”
Ronon just sighed loudly into the phone.
Seriously. He was going to have to work out a compromise that let him drop some of his I’m-an-idiot act. This was going to take forever at this rate.
Ronon looked over his shoulder at the bed. Thankfully, Tony was so deeply asleep that zy was making soft, breathy sounds that weren’t quite snores.
“Are you sure McKay didn’t put you up to this?”
“I’m sure.”
Sheppard let out a self-pitying moan.
“I’ve gotta be completely honest, Ronon, I’m a little out of my depth. I’m going to need to talk to you and, well, talk to him. How about I get dressed, get back to the base, and get Caldwell to—um—bring me to where you are?”
“Yeah, okay,” Ronon agreed. “But maybe not too fast. I told Tony I’d let him sleep for a while, and then I thought I’d see if he’d be willing to try out that ‘shower sex’ thing with me, because that looks fun in all those movies, and—”
“Stop! No. Do not tell me anything else about your plans for the morning,” Sheppard ordered. “I will be there in two—no! Three! Three hours! Please make sure everyone is fully dressed, alright? And I need his name. We’ll have to do a security clearance check.”
“Okay,” Ronon said. “Three hours. Fully dressed. I only know his first name. Gotta find ID.”
Sheppard whimpered, then there was a repeated thumping noise like Sheppard was banging his head on something. He probably was. After that, Sheppard sighed and was silent while Ronon located Tony’s pants and found a wallet. “It says Anthony D. DiNozzo,” he said and read off the address and license number as well. “Got all that?”
“Yeah,” Sheppard replied, aggrieved. “Three hours, remember that and be dressed. Both of you.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll order breakfast,” Ronon said and hung up on him.
Well, that went well. He actually had no intention of having sex with Tony again this morning. Zy was going to be way too sore. Hell, Ronon’s own balls were too sore for anything. Saying that had been a calculated risk to distract Sheppard. The ‘overshare’ technique didn’t always work, but it usually did. The man was private by nature, so he generally didn’t want to hear anybody else’s private business any more than he wanted to share his own. It was useful at times.
Ronon happily tossed the phone back in the suitcase. He set his internal alarm to wake him in about three hours and slithered back under the blankets to curl around Tony.
Chapter 8
The next time Tony woke, it was to the feel of Ronon again sitting next to him, sliding his fingers through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.
“Mmmmm,” he purred, slowly opening his eyes. He felt a little less groggy, which was a good thing. He still wasn’t overly eager to try to move, and he definitely wasn’t going to sign up for a pilates class any time soon. Or any time that decade.
Ronon gave a low chuckle, his expression fond as Tony nuzzled into his palm like an overgrown cat.
“Morning.”
“Hey,” Tony replied, yawning hugely. “Wh’ time’z’it?”
“Almost 8:00,” Ronon replied. “I wish I could let you sleep longer.”
Tony yawned again. “Nah, s’okay.” He blinked sleepily and tried to convince himself to get up. Try to get up, he amended.
“I got the bath ready for you. I figured you might want to soak.”
Tony snorted. Understatement of a lifetime. “Yeah, just give me a minute.” He blinked a few times and realized Ronon had already showered. His hair was wet, and he was shirtless but dressed in different jeans than he’d had on last night. He must’ve been up for a while.
Ronon shook his head. “I’ll take care of you. Think you can get your arms around my neck?” he asked as he flipped back the sheet and comforter and brought Tony’s arms up as he leaned down, preparing to pick him up.
“What? No. You can’t carry me to the bathtub. I’m not a Victorian maiden, Ronon,” Tony scolded.
“I don’t know what that is,” Ronon said mildly, picking him up as if he weighed about the same as the average house cat. He had him half way to the bathroom before Tony even managed the first alarmed squawk.
Only putting down a firm (metaphorical) foot got him to set Tony down next to the toilet and leave him alone long enough to take care of necessary business. Then Ronon was back and helping him into the shower because Tony insisted he wasn’t getting in the bathtub to sit in his own sweat and other bodily fluids. Ronon watched him like a hawk, but he let Tony stand long enough for a brief shampoo and shower.
Back by Tony’s side, Ronon guided him to the huge soaker tub that was the centerpiece of the room. Tony might have protested had he not slipped the second he put his foot on the bottom of the tub. Ronon caught his flailing arms, picked him up, and eased him down into water just the right side of too hot. Tony moaned.
“I put in some oils that should help with soreness. I don’t think we’ll have time for me to give you a massage.”
A massage. Seriously? Was this guy for real?
Tony grunted out an acknowledgment and lay back…well, he kind of propped himself on one hip and lay against the towel that had been put down to keep him from slipping and drowning himself.
Huge was not an adequate word for the tub. Heaven might have worked better, Tony thought. He sighed, letting his head fall back onto the bath pillow.
The tub itself had to be more than five feet long and had room enough for Tony, Ronon, and at least one other person. Two if they were cozy. It was shaped a little like an oblong bowl and was deep enough that Tony was completely covered up to his shoulders. He could feel the water circulating, so it probably had a filter and heater. Tony was in love, though the chandelier hanging above it might have been a bit much. There was extravagance, and then there was just ridiculous.
“Feels amazing.” Oh, did it ever. It smelled great too, kind of herbal but without the chemical sweetness of most commercial bath oils. Actually, it smelled a lot like Ronon. “Let me soak for a while, and I’ll be good as new.”
Ronon grinned and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t fall asleep, m’kysra. I’ll go order breakfast,” he said as he turned to leave, closing the door most of the way but not latching it.
“Mmmkay,” Tony agreed belatedly, eyes already closing.
He had no intention of falling asleep, but he did want a few seconds to himself to assess how he really felt. Saying that his ass was sore was like saying the Atlantic Ocean was a little wet, but Tony couldn’t even pretend to be unhappy about that. Being with Ronon had left him with absolutely no doubt about his capacity as a sexual being.
It wasn’t just the heat of the water that made him flush as he remembered. The last time Ronon had taken him had been early this morning. When he’d awakened to Ronon kissing his neck and stroking his hand up Tony’s inner thigh, he’d been certain he wouldn’t be capable of another orgasm, but he hadn’t protested. On the contrary, he’d been hit with the reality that this would be the last time he’d ever be with Ronon, so he’d readily welcomed him, and it had been amazing. Again.
Tony had lain on his back, arms and legs wrapped around Ronon, ankles locked at the small of Ronon’s back. Ronon had stretched out over him, braced on his elbows. They’d clung to each other, so close they’d been sharing breath as they alternately kissed and stared into each other’s eyes.
Every thrust had been slow and deep. Neither had said a word; the only sounds had been their uneven breathing, the occasional quiet moan, and the sticky-wet noises of Ronon’s cock sliding in and out of Tony’s body as they’d moved together.
It had been a sensual, almost dreamlike, experience. Orgasm hadn’t been electrifying or earth shattering. The other times had been shocking lightning strikes and exhilarating fireballs of sensation, but this had been the inexorable pull of the moon on the sea. It had been an incoming tide of pleasure that swelled with every kiss, every breath, every touch. A loud gasp and a low cry, and they were locked together at high tide, an easy, sweet climax flowing through them.
Neither had wanted to part afterward. They’d kept kissing and touching each other almost reverently until sleep had refused to be held at bay any longer.
“Hmmm… Hope you’re thinking about me, m’kysra.”
Tony’s eyes snapped open and his heart rate shot through the roof. He was floundering, half drowning himself before he realized Ronon had returned.
“Easy, easy, it’s alright. I knocked, so I thought you heard me.” Ronon rushed to kneel beside the bath, reaching out to catch Tony before he ended up braining himself on the side of the tub.
“Shit!” Tony cursed. He sat up and pressed his right hand over his heart. “No, I didn’t hear anything. You scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry, m’kysra,” Ronon apologized, rubbing Tony’s back. “I can be mean sometimes, but I promise I never intentionally try to drown people. Well, not the ones I like. Not most of the time, anyway.”
Tony barked a laugh and gave up trying to glare. “Well, that’s good to know, I guess.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his heart finally calming down. He squirmed until he could relax back again.
Ronon grinned, the hand on his back supporting him until it had to move or get squished between him and the bath. It was about the point that they were smiling stupidly at each other that Tony realized Ronon’s other arm was still in the water, hand low on his abdomen, fingers splayed protectively.
His gaze flickered down and back up to Ronon.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
Tony somehow doubted that it was a coincidence that Ronon’s hand rested over the area between Tony’s hips and just below his bellybutton as if he could sense the new life already growing there.
Suddenly Tony’s brain was working in double time, flipping through the things from last night that hadn’t set off any alarms but damned well should have:
Ronon knowing without being told that Tony was a delta.
The many times Ronon had made certain Tony had wanted to be there, had wanted to have sex.
The absolute lack of anything remotely resembling a reference to condoms.
Ronon feeding him.
Ronon pampering him.
The way Ronon had snarled “mine!” while he’d been inside him.
Ronon saying he’d keep feeding Tony if it meant he got to keep him.
Ronon flat out asking him, “If I said I truly wanted to keep you, would you let me?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, the entire explanation of kysra.
Where the hell had his brain been for that? Three glasses of wine and maybe a half of a fourth over several hours didn’t dull his wits that much.
Tony couldn’t accuse Ronon of being dishonest or hiding what he wanted. Tony had been so focused on his own idiotic plan that he couldn’t see that Ronon had had one of his own.
He could tell from one look at Ronon’s face that Tony didn’t even have to say anything. Staring at Ronon now, Tony wondered why his brilliant plan seemed so completely irrational the morning after. The only possible excuse was that with everything that had happened over the last several months, Tony’d been a little out of his mind. Clearly.
What was supposed to be just a one-night stand had become something else completely. Obviously, Ronon had purposely chosen to fuck a delta, and he definitely wanted the resulting child. Whether or not he actually wanted Tony remained to be seen, but there was no way Ronon was going to let his unborn child out of his sight any time soon. Thanks to his own stupidity, Tony’s career, hell, his life was over.
Tony closed his eyes tiredly.
“What’s wrong? Tony, what’s wrong?”
From the alarm in his voice, it was not the first time Ronon had called his name.
“Nothing.” Tony opened his eyes to see Ronon studying him with a worried frown.
“You’re sure?” he demanded. “You went white and looked like you were going to puke. I thought I caught you fast enough, but maybe you hit your head.”
Immediately, strong hands were holding Tony still as they carefully felt his head for any lumps or sore spots.
Tony sighed and sat up, batting away his hands. “No, I’m fine. I just. I guess you could say I had a paradigm shift.”
Ronon didn’t look any less worried. “I don’t know what that is.”
Refusing to let himself remember the first time he’d heard Ronon declare he didn’t know what something was, Tony sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s when you suddenly realize something fundamental to how you see everything in life has changed.”
“Okay. Was it a good shift or a bad shift?”
Tony tilted his head and gave Ronon his best ‘unimpressed’ look. “I’m pretty sure you know what I realized.”
Ronon’s expression cleared. “Oh, you mean that you’re with child?”
“No,” Tony laughed humorlessly. “I knew that within seconds of waking up. I realized you want the baby.”
Ronon frowned in confusion now. “Of course I want the baby. I want you both. Doesn’t mean I can have either one, though, not unless you let me.”
Tony finally met Ronon’s eyes, surprised by the honesty there. “But…you can. The laws would support you, especially since you’re a foreign dignitary. The current laws put all the power in your hands.”
He covered his belly with both hands. “I now have no control over my life, hell, over my own body for the next nine months at minimum. Even after that, I have to do what you say if I want any access to my kid.”
The more Tony talked, the more upset, then enraged Ronon looked.
“No,” Ronon stated emphatically. “No. I don’t care what stupid laws exist here. You are kysra, and I will kill anyone who tries to treat you like you’re a slave. I want you. I want our child.” Ronon’s face was a mask of cold fury as he ground out between gritted teeth, “but I’m not a rapist, a thief, or a slaver. I never will be.”
Tony reared back and his jaw dropped. A frisson of fear raced down his spine. Was this the same man who’d been so sweet and patient with him last night? Tony wasn’t ashamed to say that the glimpse he’d just gotten of this other Ronon scared him. It was a little too Jekyll and Hyde for his taste.
He sat in stunned silence as Ronon rose and collected towels and another of those thick robes Tony had worn briefly last night.
Returning to the bath, Ronon set the robe and one towel on the edge and opened the other towel, tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned down to Tony.
“Come, m’kysra,” Ronon said flatly as he held out his arms. “My friend John Sheppard is going to be here soon so he can tell you about where we live so you can decide if you want to go with me or go back to your life here.”
Tony was confused. Ronon was angry with him, so why was he still calling him kysra and taking care of him? Not stupid, Tony kept his mouth shut and let Ronon help him out of the bath onto the thick mat, where his thigh muscles promptly rebelled and sent him stumbling into Ronon.
“Shit!”
“I’ve got you; you’re alright,” Ronon reassured him as he steadied him. He handed Tony one towel and knelt to dry him with the other, working from his feet up his legs.
“Yeah, you ‘having’ me is what got my muscles all tired out in the first place,” Tony joked, watching Ronon cautiously.
Ronon huffed, but the look in his eyes when he glanced up was pleased, self-satisfied. Of course he was. Who wouldn’t be if they had worn out their lover?
“Now you can rate me 10 out of 10,” he said, lips curling up in amusement.
Tony snorted a laugh as Ronon took the first towel from him, dropped it on Tony’s head, and had him bundled into the robe before Tony could convince his arms to lift high enough to get the towel off his head.
Ronon rubbed the towel over Tony’s hair, half drying and half massaging. Tony closed his eyes and steadied himself with both hands on Ronon’s shoulders.
“Can you walk?” Ronon asked, shifting his weight as if to step back. Tony couldn’t tell if he was joking again or not.
“Wait, Ronon.” Tony put his pruney hand on Ronon’s chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I don’t think—I mean, I’m just…” He frowned and closed his mouth with an audible click. Why couldn’t he get the words out?
“Scared,” Ronon finished for him, expression going soft, understanding.
Tony shrugged, tense and unhappy, dropping his gaze to Ronon’s chest. He’d done something incredibly stupid. Idiotic beyond words. He could and would suffer the consequences, but he couldn’t help what he felt.
Ronon reached out, one hand going to Tony’s hip and the other to his shoulder. With a sigh of relief, Tony stepped into his lover’s arms. He really, really loved the way Ronon hugged him. There wasn’t any of that macho guy chest-bump, shoulder-slapping crap. Ronon put both arms around him and pulled him into a full-contact embrace, letting Tony tuck his face into the crook of Ronon’s neck.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clinging hard.
“Shhh,” Ronon rubbed Tony’s back and held him just as tightly. “It’s not like I didn’t know it was bad here for kysra, but every time I think I’ve seen the worst, there is something more. You’re so amazing, so beautiful and passionate that it’s easy to forget you’ve never been cherished the way you should have been.”
Oh. So did that mean the fury from before was about him instead of aimed at him?
They were silent for a heartbeat, then Ronon plead with him, “Promise me, Tony, promise me that no matter what you choose to do, if our child is a kysra, you will cherish zyr and teach zyr to value zyrself and teach zyr to honor you as well.”
Tony’s breath hitched and his eyes burned. Okay, that made more sense.
“Yeah. I can do that. I promise. I promise.”
If he was honest, he really hadn’t thought that far ahead. He hadn’t thought at all about raising the baby once he had it. Dammit! What kind of parent was he going to be if he could bring a kid into the world for such selfish reasons?
Tony lifted his head from Ronon’s shoulder. “Ronon,” he began, hesitantly. “What do you want, I mean really? What were you looking for when you came over to me last night?”
Ronon took a deep breath and smoothed his big hands down Tony’s back and over his ass and back up.
“You. I was searching for you.” Ronon caught Tony’s hand and kissed the palm before sighing and looking around, leading Tony to the wide chaise lounge once he spotted it. He settled Tony on it and then knelt at his feet, taking both of Tony’s hands in his own.
“I think I scared you with how angry I just got. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Ronon dropped his gaze and kissed Tony’s knuckles. “Everything I’ve told you is the truth, but it’s not is the whole story.” He took a deep breath. “Sateda fell to our enemies almost a decade ago. Not content to destroy who we were, they hunted down all our kysra and murdered them or dragged them off to be tortured and murdered later. The kysra I was supposed to marry died in an explosion right in front of me.”
Tony’s eyes went wide. Holy shit.
“Ronon. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine…” he trailed off and squeezed Ronon’s hands.
Ronon squeezed back and went on. “Very few of my people survived. I found three others a while back, but they are gone now too. Again, destroyed by our enemy.”
“You’re talking genocide.”
“Yes.” Ronon acknowledged, his eyes dark with grief. “As far as I know, I’m the only Satedan left. If there are any others, there’s no way to find them now.” He took another breath and reached up to trace his fingers over Tony’s face—a whisper of touch over his eyebrows, nose, jaw, and lips.
“When my friend, John Sheppard, found me, I was on the run. I’d been on the run for the seven years since my people had been massacred. Until he found me, I figured I’d be on the run until I was finally captured or until I ended my own life. I never dreamed it would be possible to live among another people and call them my friends. I’ve lived with them for almost three years now, and they have become my friends, my chosen brothers and sisters. But now I want more. I want a family of my own blood.”
Tony’s mind was racing. Of course Ronon wanted his own family. He was the last of his people. If there were to be any more Satedans, they’d come from Ronon himself. So it made complete sense that he’d chosen a delta—a kysra—the one chance he had while among non-military. If what he was saying was true, the very last of an entire people group were right there in the room with Tony, one of them inside him. If anyone deserved to keep the baby, Ronon did.
Tony’s thoughts began to race. What if…what if Tony could be assigned to the base where Ronon lived? If it was a naval or marine base, it should be possible. Did he really want that? Did he want to give up everything he’d worked so hard for to go trailing after Ronon like some lovesick soap opera delta?
“I admit when I came to the bar last night, I was hoping to meet someone who was what my friend calls delta and I know as kysra.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “The movies aren’t real, you know.” He turned his head a bitter smile curving his lips. “Despite my behavior last night, we’re not all sex-crazed or prostitutes.”
Ronon knelt up and shouldered his way between Tony’s thighs so he could frame Tony’s face between his hands. “No. There is nothing wrong with you. I wanted you last night as much or more than you wanted me. I want you now. If you weren’t too sore and we weren’t out of time, I would spread you out on this bench right now and follow through with all the things I promised but didn’t get to last night. There is nothing wrong with either of us.”
Pressing his lips together as if he was trying to keep himself from saying something else, Ronon released him only to take both his hands again.
“I know the movies are lies, but—” He tilted his head. “—it’s true I thought I might come here and meet a kysra who would be willing to think about coming home with me. I admit that knowing how kysra are treated in your culture played a part, but not like you might think. Knowing that kysra are shamed instead of cherished here just gives me an ‘ace in my hand,’ I think is the way you say it.” Ronon shrugged one shoulder, somehow apologetic and unrepentant at the same time.
“An ace in the hole,” Tony absently corrected. Too long correcting Ziva had him doing it automatically.
“Tony, you weren’t the only kysra in the bar, but you were the one I was drawn to. There was something about you, aside from your obvious beauty, that made me want you. I wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve been honest and told you what I wanted. I almost did a few times when we got to the room. I didn’t, though, because I wanted you. I wanted to take you to bed even if you chose never to see me again. I didn’t lie when I told you I’m selfish.”
“Maybe, but you’re not alone in that,” Tony said, feeling ashamed of his own reasons for being in the bar that night. “You probably shouldn’t want me. You want a delta—uh, kysra—to create a family with. I was in the bar because my work wants to assign me somewhere I don’t want to go, and I knew if I was pregnant, they’d have to change it. I wasn’t thinking beyond that. I’m the selfish one, Ronon.”
Ronon opened his mouth to reply, but a yell from the main room interrupted them.
“Ronon? You’re supposed to be here. Where’d ya go?”
Ronon frowned and yelled, “Gimme a minute, Sheppard. We’re getting dressed.”
Tony raised a brow at the “Gah! No, no details, just hurry up!” The man in the other room—presumably John Sheppard—nearly whined. “I gave you three hours. You said everybody would be dressed.”
Ronon got to his feet and grabbed Tony’s clothes from where he’d set them on the counter.
“Here, let me help you. Oh,” he paused with a self-conscious expression, the first that Tony had seen on the man. “uh, you should know that my friends think I’m kind of… Uh, McKay calls me ‘Ronon the barbarian,’ and Shepard sometimes calls me ‘Chewy.’”
Both Tony’s brows went up as he slid on his boxerbriefs and then started pulling on his jeans.
“They think you’re, um, not smart?”
Ronon nodded once before finding his own shirt and slipping it on. “Being on the run for so long, I lost part of myself for a while. I couldn’t stay long enough anywhere even to talk to people. When Sheppard found me, I was…a mess.” He snorted. “I didn’t even remember how to use forks to eat. I figured out pretty quick that they wanted me for my ability to fight and shoot, not my brain, so I went on pretending I was a big, dumb fighter for the most part.
“I didn’t ever say anything to change what they thought of me. I should have.” He frowned. “I don’t know why I didn’t when there have been so many times I wished they knew I could do more than grunt and fight.”
“It’s easier,” Tony said as he buttoned his shirt. He empathized far more than Ronon probably thought he would. After all, Tony had been the stupid jock for so long that he’d begun to think he’d never be anything else. “It’s easier to let them think you’re not too smart. It makes people underestimate you. Putting on a mask or a fake personality gives you distance from them too.”
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
Tony bristled, but when he looked up, the look on Ronon’s face was curious not challenging. Ronon stepped close and smoothed Tony’s shirt over his shoulders.
“I do the same sort of thing,” Tony glanced away, afraid Ronon would see all the past pain in his eyes. “I do it for more than one reason. First, I’ve been passing as a straight male for all my life. Part of that is pretending to be a womanizer. Then by the time I was twelve, I’d figured out that being too smart would end with me getting my ass kicked too, so I learned to pretend to be just smart enough that the meanest assholes wouldn’t bother with me.”
“And now?”
Tony smiled bitterly. “In college, I learned how to be the stupid party boy athlete who always knows how to have a good time. It worked so well that people actually liked me for once. So I kept doing it. I’ve been pretending to be that person ever since.”
Ronon cupped Tony’s cheek in his hand. “How about we help each other stop pretending.”
“I don’t know if I can be anything else anymore,” Tony admitted barely above a whisper.
Ronon leaned his forehead against his Tony’s.
“I don’t know if I can either. But we can try.” When Tony didn’t reply, Ronon kissed him softly, then took his hand and led him out to the other room.
No matter what happened later, Tony had to meet this John Sheppard guy and hear what he had to say.
Chapter 9
It turned out that John Sheppard was actually Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, and he easily could have passed for Tony’s older brother in another life. John looked thinner, lankier, but that could have been because Tony’s body carried weight differently because he was a delt—uh, a kysra. Otherwise, they were almost the same height, had similar eyes, and even their hair spiked up similarly. If not for the very obviously platonic, almost fraternal relationship between Ronon and Sheppard, Tony would have wondered if he was just a pale imitation for the other man.
“Thanks for ordering breakfast,” Sheppard said once they were sitting down to a family-style breakfast at the low table.
Ronon and Tony had taken the sofa, and Sheppard was slouched in an adjacent chair.
“I like room service,” Ronon announced.
Tony nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. Yeah, he’d never heard that particular ‘dumb jock’ voice from Ronon. He wouldn’t have even believed the other man could come off that way. It was a good thing he’d had warning.
Sheppard shot Ronon an amused little smile. “I just bet you do,” he said. “And second breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“Lord of the Rings fan?” Tony asked with a grin.
“Sometimes. Not of the orcs though. They creep me out.”
“Understandable. They are creepy,” Tony agreed, wrinkling his nose. “The movies made them look like they were about two seconds away from cannibalism.”
He politely pretended not to notice the look Ronon and Sheppard exchanged.
If there was anything Tony was good at, it was inane conversation. He masterfully, if he did say so himself, got them through eating breakfast with a variety of movie quotes and innocuous questions, though his own stomach had started to churn about half way through.
As soon as Tony gave up on eating and set his plate down, Ronon took his hand and interrupted with an abrupt,
“Get to it, Sheppard. They said checkout is at ten.”
Sheppard gave him a half-hearted glare but sighed and set down his own plate, brushing the toast crumbs off his hands and his shirt.
“Alright, since you’re in a hurry, Ronon,” he sighed. “So I talked to a variety of other people this morning, none of whom appreciated being woken early on a Saturday, let me tell you. Colonel Caldwell especially is not your number one fan right now.”
Ronon shrugged, unfazed. He moved closer to Tony and put his arm around him, which had the added benefit of letting Tony lean to the side enough that he was resting almost on his hip rather than on his sore ass.
Sheppard rolled his eyes at them both. “Alright, so that aside, there are a couple things Mr. DiNozzo—or actually, Agent DiNozzo—needs to clarify. The first of which is his birth date.”
Tony blinked. “Um, what?”
“The thing is, our background check found two dates of birth for you. Can you explain that?” Sheppard asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
It suddenly dawned on Tony what Colonel Sheppard was talking about. Shit, he’d thought that had been buried long ago.
“Wow, your people are very thorough. Even NCIS missed that.” He laughed, but it was devoid of any humor. Kind of like his childhood. “Hell, even I had forgotten.” Tony scrubbed his hands over his face.
“So my real date of birth is actually three years after what appears on all my records.” Tony looked away and sighed heavily. “My father wanted to ship me off to a boarding school after my mother died when I was eight, but he kept me around for a couple of years so it would look like he was being a good father. Besides, he couldn’t legally do it until I was fourteen.
“He managed to wait until just after I turned eleven. One day, he handed me a new birth certificate. He told me that was my new birthday and to forget anything else. And oh, by the way. I was going to be starting school at Remington in the fall. As a freshman.”
Sheppard’s face was very carefully blank. “I assume your father is the one who changed your gender from delta to male on it too.”
“I assume so,” Tony said. He hadn’t ever really thought about that part. “I didn’t even know I was a delta until puberty, which was just as I started college. My father was so ashamed at having sired a delt that I was only ever referred to as male. I’d be extremely surprised if my original birth certificate read delta. I’m sure he bullied or bought that much from the beginning.”
“So,” Sheppard said, his head tilted. “You’re actually thirty-three, not thirty-six. That’s only three years older than Ronon.”
“We didn’t actually get around to discussing our birthdays, believe it or not,” Tony said with a leer at Ronon, who was practically vibrating with fury beside him.
Tony made a mental note never to introduce his father to Ronon…or possibly to introduce them ASAP. It would depend on whether or not Ronon had diplomatic immunity.
Sheppard rolled his eyes. “Feel free to share never.” He shifted and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Okay, that’s taken care of. Your interesting background aside, we do need to talk about whether or not you want to know what you’d need to know in order to come with us.
“First, we live on a top-secret base. There are nondisclosure forms about two inches thick that you have to read just for us to tell you about it.”
The Colonel looked to Ronon, his eyes shuttered and his face a mask. “You need to be very sure you want him, Ronon—” he raised a warding hand. “—no, I know he’s carrying your kid. That isn’t the issue. If it’s just the baby you want, we can come back in nine months and get it. You need to be sure about the delta.”
“He’s mine!” Ronon roared the same time Tony jumped to his feet and snarled, “You’re not taking my baby from me!”
The intensity of Tony’s reaction shocked him. It had to be the hormones already affecting his brain chemistry. An hour ago he’d been regretting his idiotic plan to get pregnant. Now the mere suggestion of someone taking his baby from him made him want to go on a murderous rampage. Welcome to crazy delta genetics.
One hand unconsciously covering his flat belly, Tony growled, “Don’t you dare treat me like some kind of TV drama money-hungry slut. I didn’t trick Ronon into sleeping with me. He knew before we ever came up to this room that I’m a delta—a kysra, as he calls me. We made the choice to sleep together anyway.
“I don’t give a damn who you are or where your super-secret base is, my baby is not going there without me.” He turned furious eyes on Ronon. “You promised you wouldn’t do that to me. You promised, Ronon.”
Ronon stood as well, one arm going around Tony’s back and the other covering Tony’s on his belly. He nuzzled Tony’s temple. “I know. I meant it,” he said firmly, turning his head to glare at Sheppard who had gotten up and backed away, putting the chair between them and him. “If it comes to that, I will stay here with you. No one will treat you like a breeding slave.”
“Easy, there, buddy,” Sheppard said, hands up in surrender, placating instead of challenging. The jackass was smart to have gotten behind the chair instead of still sitting on it. “That’s what I figured, so take it easy. I was ordered to put the option out there and encourage it. I thought it was a stupid thing to say too, but I did what I had to. It’s over now. Let’s figure out what’s really going to happen, okay?”
The way they were standing, Tony couldn’t see Ronon’s expression, but it must have been something fierce because Sheppard joked, “Just remember, you go tearing off and rip somebody limb-from-limb, and I’m going to be filling out paperwork for days. You know how much I hate paperwork.”
Ronon snarled something in another language that made Sheppard wince.
“Yeah, well, I’ll let you work with the new Marines when we get back. Getting a few of them to cry will have you chipper again in no time.”
Ronon grunted.
Tony’s ears had perked up at the mention of Marines. If the base had Marines, then surely they had an NCIS agent.
“If you’ve got Marines, you have an Agent Afloat, right?”
Sheppard looked down and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Uh, not so much. Our super-secret base really is that super-secret. However, one of the options people have discussed is assigning you there as our NCIS Agent Afloat.” He braced his hands on the back of the chair.
“You need to know that coming with us will mean being cut off from your friends and family. You will not be able to tell anyone where you are—not your friends, your former coworkers, your family, nobody. Not even NCIS’ Director.
“If that is what you decide, your assignment is going to come down from somebody far up the food chain, possibly the President. It will be classified above top secret. If you leak anything about us or our location, you will be charged with treason and dumped somewhere—without Ronon or your baby—that makes GTMO look like a five-star resort.”
“You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
Ronon spoke then, though he seemed reluctant. “M’kysra, Sheppard is right about you being cut off from everyone. It would be like you don’t even live on Earth anymore.” He paused at the warning look Sheppard was sending him. “What? It’s true.”
“It will be dangerous,” Sheppard eyed Tony, gaze dropping to where Tony’s and Ronon’s hands still covered Tony’s abdomen. “We keep the base as safe as possible, but it isn’t perfect. People have died. I’m not going to lie to you. You and Ronon have to decide if it’s right for you as a family unit, if you want your kid growing up there.”
“I have to decide before I read all the non-disclosure agreements?” Tony asked incredulously. He turned toward Ronon and looked up at him. “How can I make that decision without even knowing where I’d be going?”
“I told you I was being selfish when I chose you.” Ronon reminded as if he were trying to be nonchalant, but the way his arm curled tightly around Tony’s waist told another story.
Tony sank to the sofa and leaned his elbows on his knees, putting his face in both hands. He felt the cushion next to him shift as Ronon sat down. Ronon didn’t say anything; he just rubbed his hand gently over Tony’s back.
Tony was freaking out. He knew he was. It was only through sheer will power that he kept himself from running away. What the hell had he gotten himself into? The whole point of this had been to avoid being an outcast on a ship. He’d wanted to stay in DC. He had friends here… Well, Jimmy was a friend. Ducky and Abby were friends as much as their obligations and personalities allowed them to be. He wasn’t sure what Tim was, and Ziva sent so many mixed signals that he wasn’t sure if she wanted to fuck him or kill him most of the time. Still, they were teammates, and he didn’t want to lose any of them.
He was pretty sure Vance was doing what he was as a show of power, but even he’d get sick of Gibbs’ asshole routine and bring the team back together eventually. Not that it would mean anything for Tony seeing as Gibbs had made it clear that Tony would never have a place on his team. Still, it was clear that if Tony chose Ronon, he might never even see them or DC again. The threat of being cut off from everyone was almost too much.
“What about my job?” Tony asked grimly, looking up at Sheppard. “If this is all so secret, there can’t be a lot of traffic between here and there. Are you really offering me an assignment with authority, or will my reports and reprimands never see the light of day? Because I’m not that kind of cop. I’d rather you tell me up front and let me do something else than get there and realize it’s just for show, and the guys I write up for raping someone are never going to get more than KP for a week before they’re back out like nothing happened.”
Sheppard tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. A few moments later, he blew out a gust of air and retook his seat. “I’m going to be completely honest with you, Agent DiNozzo—”
“Just Tony.” Tony waved him off and sat back. He winced and adjusted his position. He wanted to be back in the bathtub soaking his sore ass…and sore everything else.
“Okay, then. Tony,” Sheppard agreed with a brief nod. “Like I said, I’m going to be completely honest. You’re right. There isn’t a lot of back-and-forth traffic from the base. I was allowed back because my father died, and Ronon came with me for support.”
He gave Ronon a narrow-eyed look that suggested they’d be discussing Ronon’s other motives another time. “In addition to the secrecy, there is the fact that we really need every able-bodied person we can get our hands on. We are stationed in a war zone, which I can tell you’d already figured out. We’ve never had an NCIS agent. There aren’t any other deltas…” he made a vague gesture toward Ronon, “or kysra? on base. Adding to all of it the fact that you’re pregnant… I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy for any of us.”
Tony frowned. That really didn’t make it sound appealing.
“No, it’s not going to be a typical Agent Afloat position,” Sheppard warned him. “First, the position would be over all armed service divisions since we have the Air Force and the Army there too.” He smiled a little at that. “I’m actually an Air Force pilot, or I started there at least. Second, there are some things we overlook that might be serious problems on other bases.”
“Like Zelenka’s vodka still,” Ronon interrupted with a grin.
Sheppard snorted. “Exactly. We overlook it because no one officially knows it exists. We won’t officially know it exists unless there is a problem. But that wasn’t exactly what I was thinking of right now since Zelenka is one of our civilian assets.
“Speaking of which, you’d have authority over the civilians and foreign troops. That’s point number three, and the one thing I requested if you are assigned with us. My request means, though, that the order must come down from somebody pretty damn high up, if not the president himself. I want it clear to you and everyone else that if we’re going to have an official law enforcement body out there, then the laws are going to apply to everyone equally without respect to branch or status.
“That you were a cop and then a detective before you went to NCIS is actually a point in your favor because I suspect we will have to generate an official, international law code for the base. The base commander felt the same way when we discussed it previously, so I can reasonably assume the same applies now.”
Tony’s jaw almost dropped open. Wow. Sheppard just shot way up in Tony’s estimation. There were a lot of great commanders, but it seemed like there were just as many crappy ones who didn’t care about silly little things like equality under the law. There were even fewer who would trust that kind of authority to a delta of all people.
“But,” Sheppard continued, raising one hand, “I’m getting ahead of myself because we need to go back to the things I’d categorize as ‘petty grievances,' things like small-time gambling, having an off-duty drink from the non-existent still, or the thriving black market trade in coffee and chocolate. I freely admit that I traded for some of that coffee myself the last time our shipment was delayed.”
Ronon scoffed, “You did it for McKay so he’d stop making everybody around him cry.”
Sheppard gave a lazy shrug, not denying it, and Tony had to wonder who McKay was if a Colonel was willing to buy from the black market for him.
“Some of those things you’re going to be asked to not notice. We can’t afford to lose people because of stuff that doesn’t hurt anyone.” He studied Tony as if waiting for an objection. When Tony just nodded once and leaned into Ronon instead, Sheppard’s lips twitched up in approval.
“Now, that’s not to say that you’re agreeing to look the other way if something gets out of hand. If the price for that black market coffee suddenly becomes coercion to do something a person normally wouldn’t or shouldn’t do, then obviously I wouldn’t ask you to overlook that. Also, if there seems to be a pattern of stupid or reckless behavior, then I’d appreciate it if you would speak with me or another appropriate person so that we can see if it’s possible to work out some kind of in-house reprimand and restitution.”
Sheppard smirked at Ronon. “I’m not at all opposed to giving the offender to Ronon or Teyla, another of our local experts, and letting them kick the crap out of them until they’ve learned their lesson, or until they’re rotated out, whichever comes first.”
Tony glanced at Ronon and caught his evil grin. “I’m guessing this would be listed as ‘training’ not ‘punishment?’”
“Exactly,” Sheppard drawled. “It usually only takes them one lesson to figure out that additional hand-to-hand combat training isn’t exactly what they expected.”
“Or they’re like Lewis. She decided she liked it and trains with Teyla all the time,” Ronon interjected.
Sheppard huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but Lewis is terrifying, and her situation was a little different. She didn’t realize that the new enlisted kid had taken her seriously about stealing something for her from McKay’s stash. Teyla’s helping her learn to read people better. And McKay turned off her hot water for almost a month, so she was still suitably punished.”
Sheppard shook his head like he couldn’t believe the stuff he had to deal with some days.
“Okay, so on to the nasty stuff—rape, assault, theft, drugs, murder, sale of weapons, technology, or medical supplies—that kind of thing. All that will be left in your hands to proceed with as necessary.” He paused, his eyes locked on Tony’s. “I’d like to believe none of that happens on my base. Of course, I’d also like to believe that clowns don’t exist.”
Tony choked on a laugh. Sheppard was not what Tony would have expected from an officer high up in a top-secret military base. He would have expected some hard-nosed bastard who barked orders and expected everyone to anticipate exactly what he wanted before he asked for it. Huh. Someone like Gibbs.
“Since my nephew just told me all about his love of clowns and made me admire his collection of both circus and rodeo clowns, I’m forced to admit that avoiding the truth and avoiding clowns won’t make either cease to exist. The only thing I will demand of you is that you do your absolute best to investigate and either disprove the accusation or get enough evidence to charge the individual and make it stick. Since I know you didn’t get where you are at NCIS by being an idiot, I expect you to bring your brain with you to the base.”
Tony studied Sheppard, but he couldn’t detect anything false in what the man had said. If anything, Sheppard had come closer to spelling out the ‘unwritten rules’ Tony had been forced to pick up on everywhere he’d ever been. Tony wasn’t prepared to stick his nose where it wasn’t needed, but he also wasn’t going to stand by and let some asshole get away with something just because of his rank or his daddy’s last name, and it sounded like Sheppard was good with that.
“Oh, one other thing,” Sheppard said suddenly. “According to US regulations, nobody asks, and nobody tells. However…” He paused when Tony raised an eyebrow. “I guess what I’m saying is that as far as homosexual behavior is concerned, you are going to be the least observant person on base. Unless it is non-consensual, I will not ask, you will not observe, and nobody will tell anybody else anything. Got it?”
“Colonel Sheppard,” Tony pasted on his best smart-assed smirk and folded his arms over his chest. “If you told me I was required to report that kind of thing to you, I’d tell you to kiss my ass and then go report yourself for violating regs.”
Sheppard grinned, and Ronon rumbled a laugh.
“Fair enough,” Sheppard inclined his head. “Anything else you’re concerned about? I might not be able to answer fully, but I’ll tell you what I can to help you make your decision.”
Tony’s amusement faded, and he dropped his gaze to the tattoo on Ronon’s left forearm. Nine rows of ink triangles pointing down with eight rows of unshaded triangles pointing up spaced evenly among them. It wasn’t a small tattoo, and he had to wonder what it meant.
“M’kysra.”
Tony blinked and looked up, realizing he’d been staring.
Ronon’s expression was hopeful and worried both. “What about me? I’ll tell you anything I can.”
Tony had to clear his throat to give himself time to yank his thoughts back on track. “What about living space? Would there be a house on base? I gotta tell you, I don’t think I’d do well with tiny quarters or a tent.”
“We’d have quarters, but mine are probably too small for both of us.” Ronon looked to Sheppard, who tilted his head and tapped his finger on his knee as he thought.
“Honestly, I hadn’t gotten that far, but there aren’t any houses. There are larger, uh, apartments for married housing. You’d have to check, but I’m sure there is something that will work for you both.
“Only married? Won’t that be a problem since I’m…” Tony gestured vaguely and trailed off.
Ronon answered that, his arm again around Tony, his fingers tracing an abstract design on Tony’s upper arm. Ronon was an incredibly tactile man, Tony thought, not for the first time.
“There is a ritual my people used.” He cocked his head and studied Tony. “But if you want a ceremony with your friends and family, we can go through your ritual too. I won’t deny you your traditions.”
“Really?” Tony was taken aback. A marriage ritual he assumed, because he was not on board for any crazy bloodletting or some shit like that. “I take it deltas can get married in your country? You’re ready to make that kind of commitment to me already? We’ve only known each other a day.”
Sheppard’s eyebrows shot up, and Ronon was looking at him like he’d suddenly lost his mind.
“Tony, we’re having a baby together,” Ronon said slowly, drawing it out like he thought maybe Tony really had hit his head in the tub, and it was just now affecting him. “We’re already committed to each other.”
Oh. Oh, yeah. Right.
That made him pause. He kept forgetting - well, not forgetting really. Tony knew in the abstract they were having this conversation because he was pregnant, but it wasn’t really real to him yet.
But it was true. He was pregnant. He was pregnant and having a baby. He was having Ronon’s baby.
Oh, fuck. He could feel his face drain of color as his brain started spinning in circles. What had he done? What had he been thinking? How had he decided getting pregnant was the best possible option out there? How had he separated the concepts of being pregnant and having a baby?!
“Tony, are you alright?”
He didn’t even know Ronon’s last name! How stupid could he be? He couldn’t just get pregnant, get a new assignment, and then not be pregnant. (A baby!!!)
“Breathe, m’kysra. Just breathe.”
This wasn’t like getting the flu or even the fucking plague and getting over it. This was a very small human being inside him. It was going to live and grow like a particularly hearty parasite until it had to come out. (He was having Ronon’s baby!)
“Tony, Tony breathe.”
What would he do with it then? He couldn’t even take care of Kate the fish. (He was having a baby!)
“Sheppard—freaking out.”
He knew what it was to grow up unwanted; with the drunk, absent, and abusive examples he’d had, what could possibly have made him think he was even capable of being a parent?
“M’kysra, you need to breathe. Tony, breathe.”
Ronon’s voice beside him, telling him to breathe. Why? He was breathing, wasn’t he? (He’d only told people he’d kept Fish Kate alive, but there had actually been three Kate the fishes. Kates the fish?)
“—panic attack.”
How had he decided that the solution to his problems was to bring another life into this fucked up world?
There was a hand between his shoulders pressing his face toward his knees. What?
“I’ll—find—paper bag.”
What did he know about loving and caring for someone who would be completely dependent on him?
“What the—paper—breathe? Earthers—crazy.”
This was a very, very small person who would rely on him twenty-four hours a day, every day for years! Decades!
“—hear me, Tony?”
Him! Anthony Darius DiNozzo! (Three? Maybe four Fish Kates? No, three. But that wasn’t the point!) Oh, dear gods, the baby had to come out! Hell, someone who was completely dependent on him at this very moment, even if it was just a couple of cells right now.
Breathing? Wait. He was hyperventilating. That’s why his head was all light and floaty.
Was he really considering going off to some top-secret military base to play at being a husband and father while he was also the only cop for what sounded like an entire community? People he’d worked with for years hadn’t trusted him to lead a team of trained investigators.
A baby. A part of him. (Kate the fishes sounded better, didn’t it?) What would he do when they found out what a failure he was? Where would they send him then?
He tried to sit up, but a strong hand moved to his neck, keeping him pressed down.
How long would it take before Ronon saw him for the perpetual screw up he was? Ronon would be living with him, would have a front seat to the continual disaster he made of his life.
A cop for a whole community and raising a baby. (Kate-the-fishes. It should definitely be hyphenated.) Give Ronon a few months, and he wouldn’t want him either. (No, dammit! Four! He’d lost two Kate-the-fishes during the whole Frog thing, and he still hadn’t gotten a new one.) He’d decide Tony was unworthy of being a parent to his baby.
Adrenaline surged.
Oh, God, the baby. Ronon would take his baby from him!
He fought the one trying to pin him.
“No!” Was that him, or someone else?
Someone else grabbed at him, forcing his arms down, restraining him.
“No!”
Cold glass.
Something squishy on his hand.
He fought, punching and kicking at his attacker.
Glass shattering against metal.
“Ronon, let him go!”
Muted thumps and cracks. Incoherent yelling.
Falling. Can’t breathe. Something hot-wet on his knees.
“I noticed! But—broken glass—”
“No, don’t try to move him!”
It all sounded so far away. The smell of coffee. Boss? That you?
Don’t get pinned. Fight. Can’t breathe. Have to get away.
“Tony! Tony!” An urgent voice, but he can hardly hear it.
Need air! Can’t breathe!
Protect the baby.
“Just shove everything out of his way!”
“—another piece—”
Pain in his hand. Can’t breathe.
“Shit!”
“Bring him out of it—”
Pain. No air. Blue lights.
Can’t…
“Don’t—dare—him—"
Breathe…
Blue…
Can’t…
Lights…
Bre—
…
Chapter 10
Tony woke with a gasp, totally disoriented. He sat up in bed and looked around frantically; he was so sure he was going to see the blue lights and the empty hospital beds around him. Fears and memories were juxtaposed against what his eyes were telling him. The dissonance made his brain hurt.
Not a hospital room, a fancy hotel room. No blue lights, just the sun coming in the window and the light from the lamps on the bedside tables.
“Back with me, Tony?”
A man’s voice, but gentle. Asking, not giving him an order he wasn’t sure he wanted to obey. Tony blinked and looked up. Blinked a few more times, shook his head, then rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the cobwebs. He groaned as everything came back to him in a flood. Holy shit, he hadn’t had an episode like that in forever. What the hell was wrong with him?
He flopped back on the pillows. “Ronon?”
Ronon’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Yeah. You okay if I sit by you?” he asked, far more tentative than Tony had seen him before.
He was shirtless again and had changed into his pants from last night. Tony flushed when he realized Ronon must have stripped him of his clothes as well. He was only wearing his boxerbriefs beneath the sheet and comforter.
“Yeah, of course.” Tony waved a hand at the side of the bed.
Ronon sat and reached out to touch his arm cautiously, his eyes dark and worried. “How are you feeling?”
Tony huffed. “Like an idiot. I owe you and the Colonel a huge apology.” Tony scrubbed his hands over his face again, noting for the first time the neat bandage on the fleshy part of his left palm, between his thumb and his wrist. He cringed. He was vaguely aware of the sound of someone cleaning up the dishes and food he must’ve wrecked during his panic attack. His face burned in shame.
“It’s alright. You didn’t know.” Ronon gave a discrete glance toward whoever was cleaning up the mess. “We let the hotel know you had an allergic reaction to something room service brought us—Sheppard thinks it was the lemon in the water—so they’re letting us stay until you’re feeling better. They also took your clothes to clean since the airport lost your luggage.”
Ah. Nice of them to cover for him. An allergic reaction was much less humiliating than a panic attack, lost luggage better than an extended one-night stand.
Tony gave him a wan smile. “Yeah, this trip hasn’t quite worked out how we thought. I’ll fly KLM next time. At least they have that cute dog.”
A quick knock followed by the soft beep of the key card reader, and Sheppard was peering around the doorway, only walking in and letting the door shut behind him when he saw Tony was awake.
“Hey, there,” he said, completely unruffled. “Glad to see you doing okay. I got everything straightened around with the hotel. They offered to call a doctor, but we’re having ours come to check you over instead.”
Tony groaned. He slapped the hand Ronon wasn’t holding over his face again.
“I’m so sorry, Colonel Sheppard.”
Sheppard came closer to the bed, hands in his pockets. “Well,” said mildly, “just be more careful about your allergies. I didn’t notice the lemon in the water carafe either until it was too late. Also, it’s John. I think that one of us going into anaphylaxis in front of the other calls for more familiarity. So just John. Or Sheppard if you prefer.”
“That mean I get to call you John too?” Ronon joked, smirking.
“Of course. This has been a bonding experience for us all,” Sheppard—John—snarked back. “And all that without a tribal dance or harvest festival. Everyone should be so lucky.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just do the dance next time, if it’s all the same to you.”
John shrugged and bounced on the balls of his feet. “It’s up to you, but I gotta say, this was definitely faster with only a tiny bit of flying food and crockery. I’m not even going to get a proper black eye,” he said.
Tony’s eyes snapped to Sheppard’s face where the man was indeed getting a nice bruise on the top of his cheekbone. Tony yanked the pillow out from under his head and tried to smother himself with it.
“Hey, now. None of that. I was trying to be helpful. Reassuring even.”
Tony took the pillow off his face, but he had to wonder if Sheppard was a little bit crazy.
The two hotel staff who were cleaning up the mess finished. The young man—Tony suspected he was a delta— shot Tony a sympathetic smile.
“I’m sorry about this, sir,” he said softly. “The living area has been cleaned as best as we can for now, so we’ll get out of your way.”
“Thank you,” Sheppard nodded to them both.
Tony was surprised when Ronon was the one to follow them to the door, thank them again, and give them what looked to be a very good tip if their expressions were anything to go by.
“What?” he demanded when he turned around to find both Tony and Sheppard staring at him. “Wu told me you have to give these pieces of paper to hotel people who do stuff for you. Not my fault if you didn’t do it.”
Well, that would explain why anything Ronon ordered showed up immediately. He probably had the staff battling it out to be the one to deliver it and get the big tip. Tony just smiled and kept that to himself. He’d also keep to himself his question about where the hell they were stationed that Ronon didn’t recognize paper money.
Shifting his focus to John, he discovered the man was staring at Tony’s chest. Looking down, he was immediately reminded of just how many bruises and love bites he had. His nipples were swollen and red too. Ronon definitely had an oral fixation.
Tony flushed hotly. “So do you think I could have one of those fluffy robes? As much as I love sitting around in my underwear…”
Ronon gave a low, roguish laugh and slid onto the bed, facing Tony. His mischievous smile told Tony he was planning something. Ronon sucked his finger into his mouth and got it wet, then leaned close and traced it over Tony’s nipple, circling the areola, making it draw tight and making Tony’s breath hitch.
“I’ll go get one.” John immediately bolted, the tips of his ears going red. Maybe he hadn’t realized he’d been staring.
“Stop that!” Tony hissed. He pushed Ronon’s hand away and drew up the comforter to cover his chest. “I’m not into exhibition.”
Ronon raised his eyebrow in question.
“I don’t participate in sexual acts in front of other people.”
“I wouldn’t share you anyway, m’kysra,” Ronon murmured, his hand covering Tony’s on top of the covers. “I was teasing you.”
Tony glared. Ronon attempted to look apologetic. He must not have had much experience, because he couldn’t pull it off very well. “I might have been punishing Sheppard just a little for looking at you.” He turned his head toward where Sheppard had disappeared into the bathroom. “Sheppard! Might as well get out here with that robe. Tony won’t let me play while you’re here.”
“Thank god!” Sheppard muttered, but he did bring out the robe as well as a wet hand towel. “Here. Figured you’d want to get the coffee off you before you put anything else on.” He threw both robe and towel at Tony before striding over to the window, resolutely ignoring them both.
Ronon chuckled. “He already gave me crap about my back, so don’t worry. He won’t say anything to anybody.”
Ronon, of course, was determined to help Tony wash off and put on the robe. He also insisted Tony be tucked back into the bed—which, unless Tony was seriously mistaken, had fresh sheets. He wondered if that was what Ronon had been doing while he’d been soaking in the bathtub earlier.
“Your back?” Tony questioned, perplexed.
Ronon turned enough that Tony could see the myriad of scratches and welts.
“Holy shit! It looks like you’ve been mauled by a wild animal!”
Ronon turned back to him, laughing. “Well, you did kind of remind me of a meura.”
“I just can’t believe I did that to you.”
“Feel free to whisper quietly about your sex life any time!” Sheppard said pointedly. “I do not need to know these things about my friends. You could put on your own shirt, you know, Ronon.”
“Relax, John, I think Tony’s good with not talking about it at all right now, and I’ll put on my shirt once Tony is back in bed.”
Tony was suddenly glad he’d been in the bathtub when housekeeping came to change the sheets and unconscious when the two staff were cleaning up his panic attack mess while Ronon’s back was in plain sight. It wasn’t that he didn’t want people to know what they’d been doing. It just felt like what he and Ronon had shared should be more private than anything he’d done with other people.
Tony let Ronon fuss since there wasn’t a whole lot of stopping him when he got it in his head he needed to take care of him. Tony yawned as he lay back against the pillows Ronon had stacked for him. He’d had a panic attack, that’s all. He wasn’t dying; he just felt like he might die of mortification. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he wasn’t in a Shakespearean play, and that was the only place that kind of thing happened.
Once Ronon found a t-shirt in his suitcase, he put that on and returned to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked at Tony with a mixture of affection and concern.
Ronon ran his fingers over the pristine fold of the sheet. “Tony, m’kysra, will you tell me why you freaked out before?”
Tony rubbed his fingers over his mouth and tried to order his thoughts.
“It wasn’t any one thing,” he said finally. “Everything just suddenly hit me: I’m going to have a baby. Your baby. I don’t even know your last name, Ronon!” Tony’s laugh was slightly hysterical and he had to take several deep breaths to get himself under control. One panic attack was enough for the day, thank you very much. “But there we were planning a possible future somewhere so secret I’m not even allowed to know about until I agree to live there. I just… I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and I panicked.”
“Dex. My name’s Ronon Dex.” Ronon studied Tony intently. “Do you want us to have a future together?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Tony countered. He dropped his eyes to where he was folding and refolding the sheet and comforter over his lap. “Because I get the feeling that these people where you live are pretty damned serious about their security. I don’t think there’s a return or exchange policy. If you take me home with you, you’re stuck with me.”
“I’m sure.” No hesitation. “What about you? Don’t think about it, just answer. What do you want?”
“Nothing I can have.” Tony groaned inwardly and gave himself a mental headslap.
“Nothing? or do you mean no one?” Ronon was tense, his eyes guarded.
“I—” Tony hesitated, feeling both Ronon’s and John’s eyes on him, but he had to be honest about this. “I don’t know. I thought it was a person, people really.” At Ronon’s look, he clarified, “Not a lover or anything, but a lifetime friend and a pseudo family with the people I worked with. The more I think about it, I wanted the security of the place and the job. No matter what I do, those two things are gone.”
Sheppard came to stand awkwardly beside the bed. “You’ve been the Senior Field Agent on your team for a long time. Is that where you wanted to stay? I know you were offered promotions.”
“The promotion offers came at bad times,” Tony shook his head. “Though there were days I wished I’d accepted them.” He paused to really think about it. “Not that long ago, I would have said I wanted to work for Gibbs on the Major Crimes team until Gibbs retired, then take over as senior agent.” Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s actually kind of a surprise to realize that isn’t true anymore. Maybe it hasn’t been for a long time now.” He barked out a pained laugh. “I think this is the first time in a long time that I’ve actually thought about what I wanted. Usually I work my ass off and accept whatever I get. And Isn’t that pathetic?”
Tony couldn’t look at either of the men in the room. He hated admitting weakness, and he’d just admitted to that and more.
“Well, it sounds to me like this is a prime opportunity for you to think about it and make a real decision instead of going along with whatever life hands you.”
Surprised at the sympathetic tone of John’s statement, Tony looked up at him and found a matching sympathetic expression. He chanced it and looked to Ronon. He too looked far more understanding than Tony had expected. But, well, maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Ronon knew what it was like for delts most places and in the States especially. He’d been angry about the discrimination, so he’d understand why Tony was afraid of making too much noise.
So what did Tony want? He couldn’t go back to being Gibbs’ second. His experience at being the team lead had been a miserable from the first because he hadn’t had subordinates or a lab tech who respected him. Trying to be a team lead and work an unsanctioned—though he didn’t know it at the time—undercover op had been hell. Things with Jenny had only gotten worse when he’d refused to seduce Jeanne, and that was about the only good decision he’d made during the entire clusterfuck. He couldn’t imagine how furious Jeanne would’ve been if he’d been her lover instead of her queer eye for the straight gal. She’d tried to pin the murder of her father on him as it was.
“So if not that, then what do you want?” Ronon said once more.
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Tony replied in a distracted tone.
What was keeping him in D.C.? Tony pressed his lips together as he considered it. Even a week ago, he’d have said Gibbs and the team. Not now. Gibbs would never accept him—hell, he didn’t even respect him anymore, just because he was a delta.
No, Gibbs had Abby for his surrogate daughter, and she had him as the father figure she needed. Ziva was going back to Israel. Ducky had his mother and his weird friendship with Gibbs. McGee didn’t need him, hadn’t respected him even when he did need him. Jimmy made friends easily; he’d be fine. Besides, Tony was sure he could talk someone into letting him email or write even if the letters had to be screened.
Looking at John and Ronon, Tony said slowly, “I think what I wanted never actually existed, though I don’t know that I would have faced that fact without someone pushing me out of the nest, so to speak. To be honest, there’s only one guy who’s really a friend.” He shook his head in disgust. “How pathetic is that? Out of everyone I know, there’s only one person I’d like to keep in touch with.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Ronon said solemnly. “I’m sorry people here are such worthless assholes, but I’m not sorry if not having ties here means you’ll come with me.”
There wasn’t much Tony could say to that. It wasn’t a comforting statement, but it was honest. Tony could use some honest people in his life.
“What about my friend? Is there any way I could keep in touch with him? Letters, emails?”
“Maybe,” John said slowly. “I can’t promise anything, and you’d have to agree to have everything screened—incoming and outgoing.”
Tony just nodded. “I assumed that much.”
That dealt with, there truly wasn’t anything holding him to D.C. except his memories and a lot of unrealized hopes. It made him feel a little like old Miss Havisham.
He shuddered mentally. Great. Now he had mental images of himself in an old, yellowed wedding dress sitting at the feast-that-never-was. Urgh. He would never be able to un-see that.
But if not D.C., then did he truly care where he went? Well, as long as it wasn’t a claustrophobic ship? That part was still true. In addition to the delta problem, Tony couldn’t take being assigned somewhere he’d be expected to sleep in the equivalent of an open coffin. That was Abby’s kink, not his. No matter where he went, he had to feel like he could breathe…as evidenced by his latest humiliating panic attack.
Yeah, he wasn’t going about things the right way, but when did he ever? He had someone who wanted him and the baby they’d created together. Was it worth giving up everything he knew to go to the super-secret base with Ronon? He wouldn’t know for sure unless he went. Whatever he decided now, the other choice would always be the road not taken, and he’d probably wonder what would have happened.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know about giving up everything and moving somewhere foreign. He’d been forced to do that when his father had sent him to Remington. The second time had been when his leg had been broken in college. Then when he’d decided to become a cop, and his father had disowned him—for the second time. Then again when Wendy had jilted him, and his partner had turned out to be a dirty cop. At least now he would be going toward something rather than running away from everything.
Or, well, not just running away from everything.
This time was different because Ronon wanted him. Nobody had ever wanted him. He’d always pursued them, fallen in love with them. He was a convenient fuck, a good listener, a dependable teammate. Yet no one had been willing to give up anything to keep him. No one had even been willing to go out of their way to get him in the first place. The closest was Gibbs who’d damned him with faint praise on one hand while smacking him with the other, then cast him out completely once he’d found out his secret.
Ronon, though. Ronon was more than willing. He’d chosen Tony. Ronon had cared enough to make sex good (really, really good) for Tony instead of treating him like a convenient hole or an interactive blowup doll. Ronon had risked his friendship with Colonel Sheppard. It was obvious that he’d asked Sheppard to intercede on his behalf so he could take Tony with him in a capacity Tony could live with. Even then, he’d said he’d stay in D.C. with Tony and give up everything he was fighting for wherever it was to do it—to stay with him and their baby.
Ronon looked at Tony like he mattered to him. He had shown Tony more care, more loyalty, more devotion in one night than Tony had seen from anyone else in years. Maybe ever. And Tony would be able to keep his job. Sort of. No, it wouldn’t be like in D.C., but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
When he thought about everything like that, there was really only one thing to say.
“Can I bring my piano, my movies, and my clothes?”
Ronon opened his mouth to reply, but then turned toward his friend.
“Well? Can we do that?” he asked, his expression clearly saying the answer had better be yes.
John made a face, but he seemed to relax. Maybe he actually wanted Tony to agree to go with them. Maybe Tony freaking the fuck out had made John believe that Tony hadn’t intended to trap Ronon.
“I’ll make it happen, but you’ll owe me Ronon. A piano is not small.” He eyed Tony. “Just tell me it’s not a grand piano.”
“Baby grand.” Tony said sheepishly. “But I play it every day. It keeps me sane, and I’ll need it. You’ll want me to have it, believe me.”
“Of course you do.” John gave a longsuffering sigh. “Just make sure you find quarters far away from everyone or quarters that are soundproofed or can be soundproofed easily. I’m not going to protect you from sleep-deprived grunts and squids.”
“Tell anybody who complains to come see me.” Ronon turned back to Tony and asked cautiously. “Does that mean you’ve decided?”
“Just tell me one thing; this top-secret base isn’t a ship or an aircraft carrier where men are stacked eight to a room a quarter of this size, is it?”
Ronon’s disgusted, “They do that? Seriously?” was enough that Sheppard’s “No.” almost wasn’t necessary.
Tony took a deep breath and slid his hand over Ronon’s. “Then okay. Yeah. I’ve decided.”
“You’ll go with me? You’ll marry me?” Ronon clarified further, a grin forming slowly.
Tony couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah. Yes I will.”
Ronon grabbed both Tony’s hands. “You will? You’re sure?”
“Yes, I decided. Yes, I’m going with you. Yes, I’ll marry you.” Tony laughed. For all that he was committing himself, he felt freer than ever. “Bring me the paperwork and a pen. I have a feeling it’s going to take a while.”
Tony found himself immediately pinned to the bed being kissed so passionately his toes curled.
If not for John’s exasperated throat clearing, he had no doubt that he and Ronon would have been celebrating his decision sans clothing.
Ronon pulled back, grinning widely, his eyes bright and body nearly vibrating with joy. Tony laughed breathlessly just to see it. Had anyone ever been that happy to have him?
Shooting an evil smirk toward John, he pulled Ronon back down for another kiss.
“Oh, come on you two!” John complained, making them snicker into each other. “I can tell already I’m going to have to requisition another dentist. I’m going to choke on the gooey sweetness and ruin my teeth every time I’m around you guys. Probably get diabetes.”
Despite John’s words, Tony could tell he was happy for Ronon. He was smiling, even as he continued bitching about needing insulin shots and brain bleach and therapy for all the poor marine and navy squids and their poor, scarred psyches.
Somehow, Tony ended up in Ronon’s lap with his arms around Ronon’s neck, but he didn’t care. There was so much relief and happiness that it made him feel slightly intoxicated.
Still holding Tony tight, Ronon looked up at his friend. “Sheppard—John! I’m getting married!” He announced gleefully, “You’ll stand with me as family, won’t you? Stand as witness for me?”
John’s expression melted into a lopsided grin as well. “Of course, Ronon. I’d be honored.”
And then Ronon was standing, picking up Tony in his arms and whirling them both around the room. “Woohoo!”
Tony hung on for dear life and half laughed, half protested.
On one of the whirls, Tony caught a glimpse of John. He looked like he had tried to cross his arms over his chest, but he’d had to bring the top hand up to cover his mouth as he tried to hide his laughter. He couldn’t hide his eyes or the way he was shaking though. Tony flipped him off, but Ronon spun unexpectedly, and Tony yelped as he tried to gain a better hold so he didn’t get accidentally dumped on his ass.
John was laughing even harder the next time Tony spotted him.
Only the knock on the door and the announcement of housekeeping got a dizzy Tony set Tony back on his feet. He was relieved until he realized he was right next to the door, which Ronon whipped open, scaring the person on the other side half to death.
“M’kysra! Your clothes are back!” he announced unnecessarily, taking the garments from the wide-eyed young woman. “Forgive me,” Ronon stage-whispered, “My beloved has finally agreed to marry me, so I’m a little excited.”
She giggled, glancing from Ronon to Tony. “Congratulations to you both.”
“Ronon, really?” Tony tried to look serious, but he couldn’t keep it up. Ronon held out the clothing, but he wouldn’t hand it over until Tony had given him a chaste kiss on the cheek, making the woman laugh behind her fingers.
“Thank you for getting that done so quickly,” Ronon said as he handed over a ridiculous amount of money for a tip.
The woman grinned brightly. “I wish you many happy years together!”
Ronon chuckled, shutting the door as she practically skipped down the hall.
John was already back staring out the window to give Tony a little privacy as he dressed. (They’d even washed his socks, color him impressed!) It turned out that Ronon’s shirt had been laundered with his things. Tony could only imagine what he’d managed to spill on him during his panicked fit.
“Here,” he held out the button-up shirt to his intended. “This one is yours.”
“Yes,” John drawled. “Everybody get dressed so we can get out of here. There’s a lot to do before we can head home.
“Oh, crap. I didn’t think about that. When are we due to ship out, fly out, whatever we do to get wherever we’re going?”
“We have some flexibility, but I need to notify people so your assignment can be made official,” Sheppard answered, some of the Lt. Colonel authoritative personality coming through. He turned back to them now that they were dressed and Ronon was busy throwing his things into his suitcase. “To be completely honest, I know Ronon, so this is how I anticipated things turning out, minus the panic attack.”
Tony grimaced. Ronon thumped the packed and zipped suitcase on the bed and slid his arms around Tony’s waist from behind, kissing his way up his neck and jaw. Tony put his own arms over Ronon’s and leaned back against him, tilting his head back and parting his lips for the inevitable kiss.
“Ugh, no!” John objected, but he was smirking.
“Then don’t be mean to Tony,” Ronon warned.
“Fine, fine! Anywaaay… My plan right now is to head to your place to let you pack whatever you think you’ll need immediately: clothes, bath products, coffee.” Sheppard shot them a smirk at the mention of the ‘black market’ item. “Then we’ll assign people to pack the rest and get it transport-ready. While I thought this was how things would turn out, I didn’t anticipate a piano. I’ll need to see if we have some people who’ve moved pianos before.”
“Alright,” Tony agreed. “I don’t have a ton of stuff. I’ll need to talk to my landlord and see if I can get out of my lease.”
Sheppard shook his head. “No, don’t worry about that. Our people will take care of it and see to it that you get a fair amount back from your deposit. This isn’t our first rodeo.”
“What about clothes?”
Tony tilted his head back to smirk at his lover. “I have plenty of clothes, believe me.”
“Yeah,” Ronon agreed, sliding his palm low on Tony’s abdomen. “For now, but what about when the baby gets bigger? You’ll want stuff that will be comfortable five, eight, nine months on.”
Tony and Sheppard both looked like they’d been smacked with a fish.
“Oh,” Tony finally said stupidly.
“Shopping?” John offered very reluctantly, his expression more like he’d just offered to be drawn and quartered.
“Okay.” Ronon shrugged. “I have McKay’s credit card. He said as long as I don’t spend over $150,000 in one day, it should be fine.”
John choked. “Rodney loaned you his card? Rodney McKay?”
“I just told him I was going with you and might need to bail you out of jail if you killed your brother.” Ronon’s grin was evil.
Tony snorted. “Well, I suppose the mall is the best place. We might as well go there first.”
“Can we go there second?” Ronon asked.
“Sure.” Tony raised a brow in surprise. “Where would you like to go first?”
Ronon turned Tony to face him. “I want to get married first,” he said, cupping the back of Tony’s neck and drawing him in for a slow kiss. “I want to know I’m yours and you’re mine,” he murmured into his ear.
“Okay.” Like Tony could do anything but agree. Then he gave himself a mental shake. “We can’t get married, though. I think it has to be a civil agreement to cohabitation since I’m a delta.”
“What’s the difference?” Ronon asked against his lips, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin behind his ear. Tony probably would have forgotten the question in favor of more kissing had John not cleared his throat very pointedly.
“Ah,” Tony stepped back. “Marriage is for men and women. Same sex pairings can have civil unions. Deltas are considered a genetic aberration, so we’re not allowed the big celebrations or whatever. There aren’t any rings or vows or anything like that. It’s basically just signing a tax document. Some officials won’t even witness delta unions.”
Ronon’s eyes narrowed. “What.”
Tony winced. “You know what it’s like in America—most countries, for that matter—for deltas.”
“Yes. Every country on this planet is stupid. I’m beginning to think all the people are too.”
“Not all of them,” John grumbled. “Look, not to get in the way here, but are we going shopping or to a court house. If it’s the latter, then I need to make a call and see if I can get Ronon’s ID sent. We…” he stopped with a groan, probably realizing Ronon and Tony were no longer listening to him.
Ronon had pulled Tony back into his arms and proceeded to kiss him until Sheppard started threatening to have them dropped in the Antarctic Ocean.
Tony’s laughs were silent puffs of air against Ronon’s. He obligingly stepped away.
John looked up at the ceiling with a long-suffering sigh. “Want me to get Ronon’s ID sent?”
Tony glanced at Ronon, who raised his eyebrow at him.
“When we get to your country, would it be a real wedding?”
“Very. You can bring your tax paper if you want, and we can sign it there. You will be honored in the traditions of my people.”
Tony gave Ronon one of his rare, real smiles. “I’d like that. Let’s just go shopping and then go to my place. That sound good?”
“It’s a plan.” John said with some relief, then grimaced as if he’d just realized he’d willingly agreed to go shopping.
Tony very kindly refrained from laughing in his face.
Chapter 11
Tony thought shopping was an awesome idea right up to the point that zy realized zy was going to be ‘out,’ as zy put it, for the first time in zyr entire life. Zy had been excited when they took Ronon’s things to zyr apartment to leave them for later. Somewhere between zyr apartment and their destination, Tony’s feelings changed. Ronon almost had to drag zyr out of the smelly yellow transport when they arrived.
“You don’t have to do this,” Sheppard reminded them as they stood outside the huge building.
Ronon shot him a steely-eyed glare, squelching Sheppard’s hopeful look before Tony saw it.
“Tony will need clothing and things to make zyr comfortable when zy is heavy with child.” He would not have Tony lacking the things zy needed, especially when zy was carrying Ronon’s baby
Tony and Sheppard both turned to look at him when he used the unfamiliar pronouns. Ronon knew exactly when Tony remembered their conversation about it because zy ducked zyr head and smiled a little.
“Right,” Sheppard conceded the point reluctantly, either ignoring or postponing a conversation about it. “We don’t have to go a ton of places, Tony. We may be able to work out a system to get stuff faster so you can place orders or something later, but right now, we’re looking at anywhere from three to six months before you’ll be able to get anything new.”
Ronon knew Sheppard was thinking of McKay’s gate bridge, but that was months away if it happened at all.
Ronon stepped forward and framed Tony’s face in his hands, meeting zyr uncertain gaze. Zyr hands came up to rest on top of his.
“Tony,” he said with quiet intensity, “you are kysra. You are a lifebringer, a beloved of the Vedaeus. Let nothing any fool says touch you; you are above them all.”
“I’m not like this. You met me in the bar. I’m not some weak, melodramatic delt who has to be reassured every three seconds by the brave hero,” zy complained, pulling away and rubbing the back of zyr neck. “I’ve faced murderers and serial killers without blinking. I’ve put arms dealers and drug traffickers in jail with no problem at all. I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve almost been killed, and I didn’t flinch. What the hell is wrong with me that I’m shaking at the thought of shopping?”
Sheppard cleared his throat, interrupting them. “Just a thought, but you faced all that as an XY. Now you’re out as an XYD for the first time. You’re probably tired too, since I doubt you and Ronon did a whole lot of sleeping last night.”
Tony and Sheppard both flushed, but Ronon smirked. He’d never tell details to anyone, but he couldn’t help being a little smug. “No, not much at all, if you want to know.”
“No, I don’t.” Sheppard immediately said. “Tony, give yourself a break. You’re starting a new life, so be whatever you want. Ronon and I aren’t going to criticize you.”
Tony sighed, then straightened zyr shoulders determinedly. “Alright. Let’s do this thing.”
Ronon loathed the mall immediately. He’d never seen so many people in his life! A great many of them were young, not quite adult, and a large amount those were rude. It was like none of them had ever heard of personal space, though they tended to at least notice him. Even the adults kept running into and brushing up against his kysra, which made him clench his teeth. It didn’t matter that Earth was supposedly safe. It was crowded, abnormally bright, and way too loud. Even in the city where he’d lived on Sateda, there hadn’t been so much noise. Ronon really wanted his damned gun.
“Hey, dial it down a little,” Sheppard admonished out of the side of his mouth. “You’ve already got security looking at us like we’re possible terrorists. I really don’t want to have to ask Landry or Caldwell to come bail us out of jail. I’m not entirely sure they wouldn’t just leave us there for a week to punish us.”
Ronon grunted, but he did try to relax. It helped that Tony too noticed his discomfort and stuck close to his left side, leaving Ronon’s dominant hand free. Just in case.
They walked through the crowd past several market vendors until they reached one that specialized in something called ‘maternity wear.’
“Uh, that way?” Sheppard asked, jerking his chin toward one corner of the store.
“Yeah,” Tony replied, looking unhappy at the prospect of entering the place the bright lettering proclaimed to be Gap Maternity. “I think that looks most likely.”
“At least there’s more room to move in here,” Ronon grumbled as they moved toward the far back of the store.
They were all still looking at the clothing displays as if expecting wraith to pop out of them at any moment when they were approached by a woman with tag pinned on her shirt. It said Colleen, so Ronon assumed that was her name.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she smiled. “Can I help you find something?”
Ronon watched in fascination as Tony transformed before his eyes.
“Hi!” zy grinned. Ronon wondered how the woman couldn’t see the smile was charming but completely fake. “We’re looking for maternity clothes for a friend of ours. He just found out he’s pregnant, but he lives overseas where his partner is stationed. It’s a pretty remote location, and he’ll probably be there for his whole pregnancy, so we thought we’d see what we could find for him. I’m thinking we’ll get a variety of sizes for him so that he has stuff for as he gets bigger.”
Colleen was no more immune to Tony’s flirting than Ronon was, and he had to restrain himself from saying anything nasty. Or backhanding the bitch. If this was how Tony wanted to handle everything, this was what they’d do. Ronon would suck it up and go along with it. It helped that he knew Sheppard was suffering too. He still wanted his damned gun though.
“How sweet of you to help the poor thing,” she practically cooed, laying her hand on Tony’s arm. “I’d be happy to help you. Do you know his sizes right now?”
“Uh,” Tony glanced at Ronon, who raised one shoulder in a mini shrug. “We’re really close to the same size. Have been all our lives. Does that help?”
Dark brown eyes swept over Tony appreciatively.
Ronon’s trigger finger itched.
“Absolutely. If you’re willing, you could even try some of the early things on to see what you think.”
Tony laughed and wrinkled zyr nose. “Well, if I have to, I guess I could.”
“Great!” The seller started moving toward one of the racks of clothing, taking Tony with her. “Let’s start here and see what you think.”
Sheppard held onto Ronon’s arm. “You can’t kill her,” he reminded him in an undertone.
Ronon just frowned. He didn’t want to kill her. He just wanted to rip off her arm and gouge out her eyes.
And feed her to a wraith.
Okay, yeah. He wanted to kill her. But he wouldn’t.
Yet.
Both Ronon and Sheppard followed Tony, doing their best to ignore the seller’s fawning over Tony even as she blithely insulted deltas. The entire thing was annoying and a lesson in endurance for them all. From the way Tony’s smile kept getting more rigid, zy felt the same way.
Unfortunately, Gap Maternity ended up being one of the better places they stopped. The one called Hatch was almost unbearable. Sheppard nearly ended up tackling Ronon to the floor when the seller blatantly groped Tony under the guise of checking the fit of the pants. Only a strategic “accidental” tripping over a rolling clothes cart that just happened to fly into Ronon at the same time Sheppard slammed into him from the other way saved that seller from certain death.
The seller glared at them all until she saw Ronon’s face. Her eyes went wide, and she eeped. Amazingly, it took mere minutes from that time for them to have everything bought and bagged and be heading back out into the mall proper.
“How about shoes?” Sheppard suggested tentatively. “I was hoping to buy a couple pairs of running shoes so I could be even more humiliated when I ran in the mornings with Ronon. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea. I know there’s a Fleet Feet Sports one level up,” Tony said with something approaching enthusiasm for the first time since they’d arrived. “They’ll have running shoes, which I’ll need a few pairs of too. I like to run in the morning when I can, and you said it did get pretty chilly that time of day. I should get some UnderArmour gear. They won’t have maternity, but I can get a couple of sizes since it stretches. It’ll actually work better for keeping nursing pads in place than a bunch of those delt half-shirts she was trying to sell me”
“Sounds like a plan then.”
Ronon started to feel like this next store wouldn’t be so terrible. Stupid Earthers. Why did they have to make everything involving kysra so difficult? If they just valued them as they should, or even as regular people, Tony wouldn’t be dreading everything so much. He couldn’t wait to get zyr to Atlantis. They’d have to give him his gun back when he got home.
Ronon let John carry the bags, and he slipped his arm around Tony’s waist as they made their way to Fleet Feet Sports. Zy looked up at him and smiled faintly.
“Not what you thought you’d be stuck doing today, is it?”
“I didn’t know places like this existed.” Ronon paused and considered the question. “No, this isn’t as fun as other things, but I’d never deny you anything you needed, and you need stuff from all these places.”
He glanced at Tony, smirking, “And this next place has Sheppard excited enough that it should be fun. I could even get some of those shoes like he was talking about. Maybe they’ll make me even faster.”
Tony snickered. “Well, you do deserve some kind of reward for not killing that last lady.”
Ronon wasn’t sure if the feet place was better or worse. Sheppard and Tony both bought shoes, and Tony talked Ronon into getting a couple pairs too. Then Tony kind of went insane. Zy bought t-shirts and shorts and sleep shirts and sleep pants. Zy made Ronon try on something called a muscle shirt, though that ended up being a good thing because Tony let Ronon pin zyr to one of walls in the little room and kiss zyr while Sheppard distracted the seller.
Ronon bought four of those shirts.
Compression clothes sounded uncomfortable, but Ronon quickly decided Tony should have as much as zy wanted after zy put one on. Sheppard had to distract the seller again. Then there were underwear called boxerjock. Tony refused to open the package to try those on, but zy did agree to get some in increasing sizes as long as Ronon agreed to get some too.
Then Tony wanted to look at jackets and running pants that were soft and ones that zy said were supposed to break the wind (whatever that meant) and keep the rain out if Tony was running outside. Sheppard bought some of that kind of thing too. Gloves, hats, and socks followed, and Ronon wondered if it would ever end.
It was worth it, though, because they ended up with a bunch of clothes that Tony said would be comfortable all through zyr bearing time. The only bad thing was that they were all carrying bags as they left, and Ronon couldn’t keep Tony close and protect zyr from the idiots. He made Tony walk between him and Sheppard instead, much to Sheppard’s amusement.
They were almost done when Tony paused in front of a baby store.
“I know you said I’d have time -”
“Go,” Sheppard interrupted. “Leave me with all the stuff. I’ll just wait on the bench over there, and you and Ronon can buy whatever your heart desires.”
“Thanks,” Tony said, shooting Sheppard a grin. “You coming, Ronon?”
Ronon just lifted a brow. Tony chuckled and reached for his hand.
The store was filled with tiny, tiny clothes.
“Zy will be this little?” Ronon asked, holding up a pastel blue thing with long sleeves and snaps at the bottom. There was a weird animal thing with big ears and an arm-like nose printed all over it in a darker blue.
“Yeah, better be,” Tony said, looking at what Ronon was holding. “Zy? Not him or her?”
“Zy,” Ronon repeated distractedly. “Every Satedan hopes their child will be a kysra, so we say zy until the birth.”
Tony studied him, emotions flickering across zyr features so fast Ronon couldn’t tell what zy was thinking.
“I think,” zy said finally, “that I am really glad this baby will be born where zy will be welcomed, no matter zyr gender. Did I say that right?”
Ronon smiled. “Yes.”
They didn’t buy that much at the baby store, but Tony seemed happy with what they did get: a few things the baby could wear right away, and many more for up to eighteen months, all in a variety of colors.
“We’re not going to stereotype zyr,” Tony said firmly. “Zy will wear blue, pink, green, yellow, and whatever else no matter if zy is male, female, or kysra.”
Ronon just shrugged. “Okay. I don’t think the kid is going to care about color. Zy’s going to want stuff that’s soft.”
“Exactly. I’m not worried about getting much for newborns because the baby’s daddy is a big guy, and zyr papa is a giant.”
Ronon snorted. “The Satedan word for what you are to our child is daetor,” Ronon explained, pronouncing it DAY-torr, rolling the ending “r.” “It means giver, as in life-giver. Littles usually say ‘dada.’ Just in case you want that. I won’t push.”
Tony’s lips curled upward in a soft smile. “That…that actually sounds perfect.”
*~*~*~*
They were all feeling worn out and were grateful when Tony suggested that they take their bags back to his apartment and eat before they went anywhere else.
“Next time we should just buy a bunch of cloth and have the—uh—the people who are friends with us sew stuff,” Ronon stated as they put all their bags in the covered back part of another yellow transport—a cab, Sheppard called it—catching himself before he said ‘the Athosians’ just in time.
Curiosity brought some life back to Tony’s weary features. “You work with the locals?”
“Sometimes,” Sheppard interjected with a warning look at Ronon.
Once back at Tony’s apartment, Sheppard went into more detail as they ate.
“The locals have some very skilled craftsmen among them for clothing, leatherworks, things like that. Our people tend to buy their stuff as gifts for friends on the base.”
“How do you pay them?”
“Eh, there’s a lot of bartering that goes on: our clothing, which they use to design new things with their own style, jewelry, personal supplies of coffee, candy. I know of one woman who has an ongoing agreement with one craftsman. She traded him an mp3 player. She agreed to charge it three times a week for the next three months to pay for the handcrafted martial arts weapons. Half the weapons were actually to barter with another person on how to use those weapons. Basically whatever isn’t on the forbidden list, and yes, there is an actual forbidden for bartering list that you’ll get a copy of when we get to Atl—base.”
Tony looked intrigued. “Huh. So if I did take cloth or leather, they might make me something if I traded them part of the material itself to pay for their work?”
Ronon nodded. “That would work. Or high quality wool that they can spin and weave.”
Privately, he thought any artisan on New Athos would beg for the chance to make Tony anything zy wanted. It would be a huge honor to be able to say the kysra had commissioned and wore something they had produced. He didn’t mention that, though.
“How much stuff can I bring? I mean, space can’t be unlimited.”
“It’s not,” Sheppard admitted. “We’re already making an exception for you to bring your piano.” He waved a hand at the large black thing in the room. It didn’t look like any instrument Ronon had ever seen. He couldn’t wait to hear Tony play it.
“Why?” Tony asked. “Why are you making exceptions for me when everybody probably thinks I’m just a stupid delta who got knocked up by one of your assets?” He shook his head when Ronon tried to say otherwise. “Don’t say it. Ronon, I know you don’t think that way. John, you’ve been far kinder to me than even my best-case scenario, but I know that’s not the way most military think. I’ve seen the bodies of a few deltas who tried to join the military—either on a coroner’s slab or in case file photos.”
Sheppard flinched and looked away, setting his food down abruptly. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, unable to meet Ronon’s eyes, which set off alarms for Ronon.
“What does that mean? What’s a coroner?” Ronon demanded, looking from Tony to Sheppard and back.
“A coroner is someone who examines a person’s body after they’ve been killed,” Tony explained. “Most often, it was a murder or a very violent death.”
Ronon clenched his teeth. “You mean that people murdered a kysra? Military people?”
Tony nodded, pressing zyr lips together in a tight line. “Ugly, brutal murder after they had sexually assaulted them,” zy said, clearly haunted by the memory.
Ronon thunked his takeout container on the table and shot to his feet. He paced the length of the room, rage like he had not felt since Sateda fell filling him. Adrenalin surged in his veins as stormed back and forth. He tried to comb his fingers through his hair and ended up ripping out the band holding it (and some of his hair besides). He gripped his head in both hands, hardly able to think.
He knew he was making his kysra uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help it.
“Was that what happened to Robins?” he snapped, stopping at Sheppard’s chair. “Was it?!”
“Ronon, take it easy,” Sheppard said, sliding out of the chair, keeping it between them as he raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No. That’s not what happened.”
Ronon heard Tony curse, rising from zyr chair too, but he couldn’t touch zyr yet. Not while he was so furious he might accidentally bruise zyr if he gripped zyr arm or hand too hard.
“Swear it!” he demanded, backing Sheppard to the wall. “Swear no kysra was hurt—” His voice cracked. “—on Atlantis. Swear it!”
“I do! I do swear it, Ronon. That didn’t happen, I promise you.”
His chest heaved as he searched Sheppard’s face to make sure he was telling the truth.
“Ronon,” Tony said softly, approaching him from the side cautiously. “Don’t be angry with John. I believe him. I bet he even protected that kysra.”
Sheppard nodded. “You know I did, buddy. I made that guy who bothered Robins spend weeks training with you every single day for what you heard him say. I made him an example and made it clear to every single person on Atlantis that I would not tolerate verbal harassment of deltas, much less anything worse.”
“Yeah,” Ronon agreed more quietly, closing his eyes and trying to calm down. “Yeah, I remember.”
A hand on his bicep made him open his eyes again to see both Sheppard and Tony watching him as if they were afraid he was going to lose it. He wasn’t. The redness had receded from his vision, and he turned, drawing Tony into his arms, one arm around zyr waist and the other hand cradling the back of zyr head.
He barely noted Sheppard sliding along the wall until he could escape past them into the center of the room.
“I’m so sorry if I upset you, m’kysra,” he whispered, holding zyr tightly but taking care not to hurt zyr. “The thought of a kysra, any kysra, being hurt like that… It made me crazy.”
“I’m fine,” Tony whispered back. “Oddly enough, I’m a little relieved to know that you are so fierce in your protection of kysra.”
“I am, and I’ll be even more fierce about protecting you. Never let anyone hurt you, Tony. Never.”
“Uh,” Sheppard cleared his throat, making Ronon look up. “Need me to give you some time alone?”
“No.” Tony pulled back and urged Ronon to go back to the sofa with zyr. “No, don’t leave. I still want an answer to my question.”
“About the exceptions for you, right?” Sheppard verified, sighing when Tony nodded. “Has Ronon told you anything about our situation? Or maybe I should say his situation?”
“He told me he’s the last of his people, the Satedans, if that’s what you’re after, but that’s basically it.”
“Right. Well, when he talked himself into staying at the hotel last night, I guess he used that as a bargaining chip. So that’s what I’m doing too. We’re treating you as the spouse of a foreign ambassador of a people who have an alliance with us. Because of that, I was able to pull strings to get you privileges that you wouldn’t otherwise have.
“There may be some blowback once we get on base, but I honestly don’t expect that much. Everyone respects the hell out of Ronon. They know what he’s been through and what he’s survived. He’s been a huge help to us every day he’s been with us. I might talk about sending people to him for punishment, but he really does do a lot of training—training that has enabled the survival of several people I can name off the top of my head. Even if they don’t care about you, they won’t put up a huge stink about Ronon receiving special treatment.”
“So even if they think I’m useless, they’ll be okay as long as I’m Ronon’s plaything?”
“It sounds so harsh when you say it like that,” Sheppard complained with a wince.
“Harsh but true is what it sounds like.” Tony picked up a still-wrapped fortune cookie from the tabletop and tossed it back and forth in zyr hands as zy thought. “I wouldn’t have so much of a problem with it if I weren’t going to be the NCIS/AFOIS agent. How can people respect me if they think I’m just Ronon’s toy.”
“It’s going to be a challenge, as I told you this morning. You’re not going to be able to just go in and start cracking a whip like you might be able to on an aircraft carrier that’s used to having a law enforcement agent. The first thing I’d recommend is meeting with the base commander. I respect her more than anyone else I’ve ever served under, and I know she’ll do everything she can to make this work for all parties involved.”
“She? That’s kind of a surprise.”
Sheppard flashed a wry smile. “Our base isn’t like anything or anywhere else you’ve ever been.” He held up a hand. “I’ll tell you more once we’re in a secure environment and you’ve signed the NDAs.”
“Right, right.” Tony sighed. “Changing the subject, sort of, I’m going to trust you to tell me if I’m pushing the boundary of what you can sweep under the diplomatic ambassador rug. Just be up front with me, okay?”
“I can do that.”
“Good,” Tony said with a decisive nod. Then zy switched topics. “Now. It’s after three. I really liked the idea of having barter goods, so I want to buy some bolts of fabric and whatever they sell leather on. Can we do that now, and then hit the closest Target store? It occurs to me that along with all the clothes, I’m going to want a bunch of socks and underwear. I’ll grab some of those bags that you can use to pack and shrink clothes, and I’d also like to start stockpiling diapers.” Zy made a grossed-out face. “I know it’s better for the environment and whatever, but I am so not the cloth diapers type. Hey, we can probably even use them as cushioning around the piano.”
“Are you going to be okay spending that kind of money?” Ronon asked, wondering what other kind of diapers there were.
He and Sheppard got up and helped Tony carry all their empty takeout stuff to the trash and put leftovers into dishes for the refrigerator. “You didn’t want to use McKay’s credit card.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tony assured them. “I actually have a trust, which is money inherited from my mother. I’ve never touched it, and she’d probably be happy to see me put it toward making a new life for myself. I also have a decent savings account and a credit card of my own that I can charge up and just pay off later. I even have a few bonds I could cash in if I really needed to.”
“Okay,” Ronon accepted Tony’s word about the money even if he didn’t know what zy was talking about. He just assumed Tony knew what zy was doing.
“Alright,” Sheppard agreed. “Let me call for a car or something though. I’m not riding in another taxi cab if I can help it.”
Ronon grunted his own agreement. Those cab things had smelled like McKay’s lab after he’d had Athosian spiced beans and ale. It was not something Ronon wanted to experience again any time soon.
Tony shook zyr head. “I broke down and bought an SUV to replace my car that exploded earlier this year, so no need.”
Ronon raised both eyebrows. “You’re going to have to explain to me how that happened.”
“Sure,” Tony agreed, “But not until we are no longer in the country.”
“Great!” Sheppard interrupted. “Why don’t you and Ronon head down? I’ll make a quick call so I can have some packing crates delivered while we’re gone. I think that will help you know what you have to deal with for space restrictions.”
“Okay, but don’t think I’m going to forget about that story you owe me, Tony.” Ronon was only agreeing because he thought Sheppard would be calling to have the crates beamed down.
“I do have good ideas occasionally,” Sheppard grumbled. “While I’m thinking about it, I’ll find out where we are on getting the piano moved. Do you care if people come in to get that started while we’re gone?”
“No, that would be fine,” Tony responded, surprised. “I’d rather people don’t touch my closet because I have some very expensive suits and my gun safe in there, but pretty much everything else is fair game for packing.”
Sheppard nodded, “I’ll mention that.”
Shopping with Tony for leather and fabric wasn’t that different from shopping with zyr for clothes. Zy might not know exactly what zy was looking for, but zy had a good idea of where to go to get started. Once there, zy interrogated Ronon on the types of raw materials and fabrics available and what he thought would be useful to people. Zy asked questions about colors and textures Ronon would never have thought of. Ronon was actually pretty surprised he had noticed as much as he had over the years with AR-1.
As a result of the interrogation, Tony bought a variety of high quality plain cottons, silks, denim, and heavy mixed fabrics that felt like the stuff Sheppard’s uniform was made from. Zy added even more fabrics that had images printed on them. Some were of weird things that Ronon had never seen, but he just assumed it was Earther stuff. Then zy paused in front of a bunch of incredibly soft fabric bolt things. Zy called it fleece.
Maybe I’ll take up sewing when I’m too big to move,” zy said with a sheepish smile.
“Can you make this into clothing for the baby?” Ronon asked. He ran his fingers over some and ended up spreading his whole hand over it. It really was irresistibly soft. “I only know about repairing my stuff or trading for new. I don’t know anything about what little ones need.”
Tony petted the soft fabric wistfully. “I know there are patterns for clothes. This fabric wouldn’t be good for much that way. I was thinking it would make great blankets. All little kids should be allowed to have a special toy or blanky they keep for comfort.”
There was no doubt in Ronon’s mind that Tony had wanted a blanky and been denied at some point in zyr life. He hoped yet again that there would be time for him to make a side trip to meet Tony’s sire. Ronon didn’t enjoy killing, except for wraith, but he was pretty sure Tony’s sire would be an exception.
“So get a bunch of the blanket fabric, a sewing machine and whatever you need to make them,” Sheppard said reasonably. Even he had been tempted into petting another of the fleece rolls. “You can make one for your kid and probably trade more to the locals. I haven’t spent time with any of the kids, but I’m fairly certain they don’t have this kind of material, but they’d love it.”
“I don’t know. I doubt I could make anything worth trading.”
Ronon couldn’t help it. He rolled his eyes and snorted loudly. “Tony, they’ll be happy to trade with you. Trust me.”
Tony hesitated, so Ronon picked up the roll Tony had been petting and dropped it into the cart. “Okay, what other ones do you want?
“How about Finding Nemo?” Sheppard asked. “It’s nicely gender-neutral.”
Ronon stared at him blankly. “Who’s Nemo and why do we want to find him?”
Tony laughed. “Oh, we have so many movies to watch. Remind me we need to buy some of the ones for kids.”
Ronon didn’t mind being laughed at when it was Tony. Zy wasn’t nasty about it and looked forward to sharing the movies so Ronon could see why zy was laughing. That was different from the Earthers who tended to laugh at him on Atlantis for the things he didn’t know. They were just laughing because they were assholes; Tony wanted to share the joke with him.
They found Nemo—turned out he was a fish, weird—and a few other fleece rolls like that. Then Sheppard hunted down the seller. Ronon was afraid it was going to be like shopping for clothes all over again, but it wasn’t. The man was old with glasses almost as thick as Ronon’s little finger, but he was smart and kind, and he answered all Tony’s questions about the machines and everything zy’d need to go with it.
In the end, Tony had bought the machine zy liked best, which happened to be the second most expensive in that shop along with more fabric, various threads, needles, closures, cutting mats, cutters, and plastic measuring lengths in different shapes. The old man had looked like he was about to kiss Tony’s feet even before they got everything totaled at the payment counter.
Tony even bought a few sets of leatherworking tools to go with all the leather and skins along with a million other things Ronon would never have thought of. Tony had just shrugged it off and said that zy couldn’t assume the people zy was trading with wouldn’t need those things or want replacements for what they already had.
Tony had looked up something on zyr phone, and the next thing Ronon knew, they were at a farm for weird animals called sheep and alpaca. Tony practically bought out the place, again, including a bunch of wool already spun into different colored yarns of all different thicknesses. They had sets of needles that didn’t look like needles and hook-looking things for other stuff, so Tony bought up all of those. After that, they’d had to return to Tony’s building where they’d hauled everything up to the apartment.
When they arrived, the piano and all the furniture was gone, and military crates took up all the empty space. There was even one in Tony’s bedroom. In addition, there were several people packing and filling the crates, which Tony was amazingly calm about. Zy turned over their new purchases to them and asked that a significant section of one crate be left for diapers and coffee, which made one military guy grin.
Tony was unusually quiet on the way to Sam’s Club, which Tony said zy’d decided would be better for the huge diaper purchase zy was about to make. Despite all he’d seen on Earth so far, Ronon’s jaw dropped as they walked into the huge warehouse. He’d never imagined so much stuff existed and in such huge quantities.
They made a beeline for the baby section, and Tony made good on zyr threat to wipe out most of the diaper section for the first several sizes. Ronon could already tell zy was going to fill up the entire back of zyr SUV. Again. Tony had said they might even have to open the boxes so they could take out the plastic-wrapped diaper packs inside to make them more easily. Ronon didn’t understand why they came in huge boxes if they were in sealed bags inside anyway. Wasn’t that just a waste of space and box material? Whatever. He’d never understand Earthers.
After zy determined the formula would still be good when zy needed it, Tony added a couple cans of the six types they had along with bottles. Zy said it was just in case zyr milk didn’t come in or zy wasn’t able to nurse. Zy also tossed in weird looking things called pacifiers.
Ronon had no idea what pacifiers were supposed to do. The only time he’d heard the English word “pacify” was when Sheppard was talking about pacifying McKay. Atlantis had always translated that for him into the Satedan word that meant the same as pacifying a mob during a riot. The things Tony was buying didn’t look like they’d be much help.
That finished filing the pallet Sheppard had insisted on pushing around. Tony had said they wouldn’t need it, but it turned out Sheppard was right. Ronon’s cart was next. Tony filled it entirely with baby care stuff, including something called “butt paste.” Ronon didn’t ask. He figured he’d learn when he needed to. Sheppard, on the other hand, couldn’t contain his curiosity, or his disgust at the name.
“What the hell is ‘butt paste?’” Sheppard asked, looking almost afraid of the answer.
Tony took one look at his face and laughed for several seconds before zy could answer.
“Sorry, but the expression on your face is priceless, John,” zy explained once zy had calmed down. “Butt Paste is a cream some parents swear will cure diaper rash within hours. Don’t worry. I got some other kinds just in case this one doesn’t do the job for Baby Dex.”
No matter the topic, Ronon couldn’t help the stupid grin he got when Tony said Baby Dex. The thought of another Dex in the galaxy was…he didn’t even have words for that feeling. Still, he was obligated to tell Tony it didn’t have to be that way. He took advantage of the time Sheppard went to find a bathroom.
“The kysra aren’t required to name their children after the father,” Ronon started as they waited for Sheppard to come back.
Tony frowned. “What, you mean you don’t do like what my parents did with the whole same name but add junior to the end of it?”
“No, well, yeah, nobody does that, but things are different for kysra.”
Tony turned from where zy’d been eyeing something called a “Snugapuppy.” Ronon couldn’t figure out what the hell that was for, so he ignored it.
“What do you mean things are different for kysra?”
Ronon stepped close and settled his hands zyr hips, drawing them together until Tony put zyr hands on his shoulders so zy could watch his reactions.
“I mean, the baby is yours.”
Tony frowned and waited for Ronon to go on. Ronon touched the fingers of one hand to Tony’s flat belly.
“The child within you, our child, I want you both so much, but I have to be honest with you. You’re not obligated to take my name or to give my name to our child. In the past, kysra could have chosen to have a child by… I guess you might say a donor. It’s an honor to be chosen as such.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No!” Ronon sharply denied. “I want you every way you’ll let me have you—our child too. I want us, but that doesn’t mean you have to take my name. If you want to keep your family name when we marry, I would be honored to take your name too.”
Ronon couldn’t quite tell what Tony was thinking. Several expressions flickered across zyr face, and zy opened zyr mouth to speak twice before closing it again.
“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this right. In your culture, I can treat you like a donor and walk away with our kid. If we marry, I get to keep my last name and change yours if I want, and you don’t get a say in that either.” Tony sighed and slid zyr arms around Ronon’s shoulders, and he automatically embraced zyr.
“Ronon, how is that any better than here where you would be allowed to do the same thing to me? I don’t want that. I want to go with you. I want you to be a father to our baby, and I’ll be the dada or whatever. There is nothing holding me to the name DiNozzo except bad memories and regret. If you want it too, I’d like to take your name and pass that on to our Baby Dex too.”
“I want that. You don’t know how much I want you to be Tony Dex and our baby to be a Dex,” Ronon said, his voice husky with emotion. He kissed Tony’s neck and then zyr lips, trying to convey his feelings that way.
When they parted, Tony asked, “So if I’m Tony Dex, dada to our children, what do they call you?”
Ronon grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Children?”
Tony huffed a laugh. “Well, child at this point. Let’s get this one here and healthy before we start talking about more.”
“I can agree to that,” Ronon said. “Oh, and they’ll call me papa, short for pater.” He closed in for another kiss.
“Ugh!” Sheppard mock-whined from next to the pallet. “Can’t you two contain yourselves for five minutes?”
“Hey, we’ve been good all day,” Tony pouted playfully, stepping back. “But let’s get this done so we can sleep at some point tonight.”
Sheppard agreed and started pulling his pallet toward the shortest line. It still took forever to check out and load the car (which left Sheppard whining about being crushed in the backseat again). Then they went back in. As they got three new carts, Tony shared what zy’d been worrying about.
“So I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m certain you guys didn’t get to take nearly as much stuff as I’m bringing with me. That’s going to cause hard feelings no matter who I am or Ronon is.”
Ronon frowned. Sheppard made a sound like he wanted to say zy was wrong, but he couldn’t.
“Right,” Tony said. “So first thing: Sheppard, do you have anything you’d like me to add for you or any of your crew, team, whatever?”
“Not really,” Sheppard replied slowly. “I’m a pretty simple guy, and I already bought shoes and clothes. As for the others, we can always use more coffee.”
“What about those little dessert things?” Ronon asked Sheppard. At his clueless expression, Ronon held up his hands and used his thumbs and index fingers to make an inch-big square. “You know! Those things people traded Zelenka for the booze that doesn’t exist?”
“Oh, you mean candy bars? Yeah, that’s a really good idea. Our food is decent, but people can always use a taste of home, and candy is good for that.”
“Hmm…” Tony considered that. “That’s not a problem, but what else? Is there a PX or a BX on base?”
“A what?”
“A store, and no,” Sheppard shook his head. “We only have what’s brought in shipments every few months.”
“So we need to think about little stuff, not necessarily food, we can bring. I know that standard care packages usually include stuff like wet wipes, disposable razors, foot powder, deodorant, Q-tips, and other personal care stuff. Women often need pads or tampons too. Hell, I know of guys who kept a stock in case they got shot. Would that kind of thing be welcome?”
Sheppard looked surprised. “You know, I hadn’t thought about the women and their—" He made an awkward waving motion. “—you know. But they probably would appreciate the gesture.”
“Wasn’t Dutch just bitching the other day about something like that? His electric razor died, and he had to black-market-buy a disposable one and shaving cream?”
Sheppard snapped his fingers and pointed at Ronon. “Hey, that’s right! I think you’re totally onto something here, Tony. And we’re definitely at the right place.”
Tony started to look happier again. “Good. Maybe I could make mini care packages. I know you can’t tell me how many people there are until I sign the forms, so I’ll just get as much as we can fit into the SUV. Even if they don’t use the stuff in them, they’d have trade stuff for the black market that doesn’t exist.”
“Put extra chocolate in all the women’s stuff.” Sheppard chuckled. “They’ll love you forever.”
“If I got a bunch of those single serving alcohol bottles, I could give them all chocolate flavored alcohol too.”
Sheppard laughed. “Well, that’d be one way to let people know you’re not going to bust Zelenka.”
Tony smirked at him, “Probably not a good idea to get any, now that I think about it, but it would be funny to put a little note on them saying, ‘no, I’m not going to bust Zelenka as long as everyone behaves responsibly with their alcohol.’”
“So no booze, but how about dried fruit?” Ronon asked, getting into it. “People are always bitching that the fresh fruit doesn’t taste like anything they’re used to. I know there isn’t a way to take a crate full of fruit, but there are packages of dried fruit, right?”
“Oh, that would be great. And beef jerky.” Sheppard made a face. “Well, jerky as long as we also supply mints. And antacids. That could get ugly otherwise. Maybe some Febreeze too.”
“I think we have a good start, so let’s start at one end of the store and work our way to the other,” Tony said, laughing.
They loaded an entire cart with every food item that looked interesting to any of them. Ronon thought quite a bit of it would be saved for the team movie nights, but he wasn’t going to complain about that. The last cart was saved for what Tony called personal hygiene items. One quick trip through the clothes for a bunch of packages of socks, and they checked out yet again.
“It’s good you don’t have one of those tiny cars,” Ronon observed as they loaded everything.
Sheppard snorted. He’d already had to get in and put stuff between his legs and his seat and hold more on his lap because they were worried about fitting everything in.
“It’s like Tetris, the adult version,” Tony agreed happily, earning a death glare from Sheppard.
“I don’t know what Tetris is,” Ronon announced once Tony had returned from putting the carts with the rest of the ones in the slots in one parking space.
“It’s a computer game,” Sheppard explained. “You have to figure out how to fit all these pieces together as they come down from the top. You have to fill every space, or the row won’t disappear. If you get rows stacked all the way to the top, you lose.”
“Huh.” Ronon looked down at the stuff packed around his feet, on his lap, and between him and Tony. They’d definitely had to break down the diaper boxes to fit as much as they had and still be what Tony said legal to drive without obstructing the windows. “That sounds about right.”
“Sorry,” Tony apologized. “Just think of all the people on your base. It’s worth it, right?”
Sheppard and Ronon both grunted, which seemed to amuse zyr even more.
“How about if I promise to let you two have first choice of all the stuff we bought?”
Sheppard agreed, though he pretended to sound reluctant. Ronon was pretty sure he was pretending anyway.
“I dunno. What I want isn’t something we bought today,” Ronon said with a leer.
Tony laughed.
Sheppard groaned.
Chapter 12
Tony was grateful to be finished. All he really wanted was about ten hours in a hot tub, but he didn’t think that was going to happen, mostly because he didn’t have a hot tub. His ass hurt enough that he would have been limping if he weren’t so stubborn, and his legs and hips were about to rebel. It didn’t help that getting everything carted up to his apartment was a hell of a lot more work that it had been getting it out to the SUV. Tony had only gotten annoyed with Ronon once for not letting him carry his share, but Ronon had explained it was because of the cuts from that morning’s panic attack, not because he thought Tony couldn’t or shouldn’t carry stuff.
It wasn’t until it was all inside and he was closing the door for the last time that it registered with him.
“Holy shit, it’s all gone!”
“It” being everything in his apartment except for one crate, packed with a quarter left for the requested diapers and coffee, and an almost empty crate in his bedroom. His closet was still full, but everything else, even his bathroom, had been packed and was gone.
He knew he was standing there like an idiot with his mouth hanging open, but he couldn’t help it. “Okay, I am never going to say anything about your people not being able to get stuff done in a hurry.”
Even John was looking around in surprise.
“Everything’s gone?” he asked, running his hand over his hair and making the cowlick swirls worse.
Tony nodded. “Except for the closet, yeah.”
“I guess they took me literally about that.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“The takeout from earlier is still in the fridge,” Ronon said helpfully. Or not.
“Well.” John stopped and exchanged a look with Ronon, who came to Tony and wrapped him in a hug.
“You okay, Tony?” he asked, rubbing his back.
Tony closed his eyes and sighed into Ronon’s neck. “Yeah, just a little shocked. I thought I’d still have another day.”
“Are you alright with packing the final crate tonight, or do you want to go to a motel tonight and finish the rest tomorrow?” John asked.
Tony thought about it. He could do it. He could push through and get it done, but he really didn’t want to. It was selfish, but he wanted one more day in the US before he was shipped off to somewhere in the Mediterranean, if the weather they’d said to buy clothes for was any indication. He’d also caught that slip of Atlantis early in the day, so Greece probably wouldn’t be too far away, though it was weird that they didn’t have access to it.
“I think I want one last night, even if it is in a motel,” Tony said finally. “I need to make arrangements to put my SUV in storage, or talk my friend Jimmy into selling it for me, too.”
“That’s fine. The Adams Hotel said they would comp you any time you were in town because they think they almost killed you with a lemon this morning, so I’ll just call and make reservations.
“Okay,” Tony murmured, sighing again. He pulled away to go back to his bedroom. “Let me see what I can come up with for clothes for tomorrow. I’m really hoping I put my emergency bag from work in my closet.”
Ronon followed him. On one hand, it was great that he was being so supportive. On the other, Tony was reeling and wanted five minutes by himself to get a grip on things again. Ronon must have picked up on that a little bit because he stayed close to the door.
“You’re hurting, aren’t you?” Ronon asked when a grunt escaped Tony as he bent over to pick up his bag, which thankfully was there.
“Yeah,” Tony admitted, embarrassed at himself. “A bit. We did a lot of walking today, which didn’t really help.”
Ronon apologized, saying, “I’m sorry, m’kysra. I should’ve thought of it. I could’ve asked to stop earlier, and you would’ve gotten another day.”
Tony shook his head, turning around and moving to stand in front of Ronon.
“I could have too, but I chose not to. When I have a project or something I’m doing, I sometimes just don’t let myself think about how I’m feeling.”
John walked into the room. “Hey, I talked to them, and you guys can actually have the same room you had last night.”
“Really?” Tony asked, remembering that awesome tub.
John nodded. “Yeah, you just have to check in at the desk.”
“Good. You want to go there now?”
“Yeah, that would be really good,” Tony said in relief. “Unless that doesn’t work for you two?”
“It’s fine with me,” Sheppard shrugged his shoulders. “I’m gonna head back and find out where your crates are. If you order breakfast in the morning again, I’ll just meet you at the hotel.”
“Alright. Just bring me my suitcase when you come.”
“I can do that.”
“Can I drop you somewhere, John?”
“No, I’ve got a ride already called. You guys head out. I’ll get the lights and lock the door if you leave me your key.”
Tony readily agreed. Not long after that, Tony was immersed neck-deep in hot water in that awesome soaker tub. Even better, Ronon was watching TV in the bedroom, so he got to be alone for the first time all day. Tony needed some time to himself, and this was perfect.
Glad for the TV sound to cover up any sound he might make, Tony let himself just freak out for a while. His entire life was changing overnight, and it was enough to have him crazy and gibbering. Knowing he was going with Ronon was better than preparing to ship out alone on an aircraft carrier, though. Maybe it was good that his apartment had been cleared out today. It let him get the worst of the panic out of his system.
Tony shifted position a few times before his fingers and toes were shriveled like raisins, and he felt like he was going to fall asleep any minute. He would have gotten out of the tub, but he’d promised himself he would call Ronon to help.
Tony winced when he thought about how he hadn’t reacted well earlier. He’d sort of bitten Ronon’s head off.
“What the hell? You knocked me up, so now I can’t even be trusted to get out of the tub by myself?”
Ronon had looked like he’d wanted to check for an alien pod or something.
“No, you already said you’re sore. I thought you might appreciate a little help so your legs don’t slide out from under you and make you crack your head open.” He’d been so perfectly logical. “I’m not trying to control you. The only thing I’ll ask you to do is leave the door open just a little so I can hear if you do decide you want help.”
He’d turned around and walked away, leaving Tony to feel like an idiot.
Honestly, Ronon was probably right. Now that they’d had a break and gotten all relaxed in the hot water, his hips and thighs were going to object to being made to do anything.
“Ronon?” he said at a normal volume.
Ronon showed up quickly enough when Tony called for him that he knew he’d probably been listening for him for the last half hour, if not longer.
“Feeling better?” Ronon asked quietly as he padded over to the towels. Like in the morning, he helped Tony stand and get dried off, then he bundled him into a robe. Tony was glad for Ronon’s help. He kept yawning and feeling dizzy in the non-concussion way that let him know he was minutes away from having his body shut down on him.
He didn’t even protest when Ronon led him past the sofa to the bed.
“Want something for supper?”
“Nah, too tired,” Tony yawned and rubbed his face against the soft pillow. “Think I’m ‘bout to fall asleep.”
True to prediction, Tony was asleep before room service even showed up.
As soon as he was done eating, Ronon turned all but one light off and turned the TV volume even lower to make sure he wouldn’t wake up Tony. He only lasted another hour before the lure of curling up with his lover became too great, and he joined zyr.
*~*~*~*
“So I was thinking,” Tony said the next morning as they were driving back to his apartment. It was amazing what so many hours of uninterrupted sleep could do for him.
Breakfast that morning had been much easier than the previous. Tony had actually been able to enjoy his eggs benedict, and there hadn’t been any panic attack following. Now they all were heading back to his place to finish packing his bedroom closet.
Jimmy was going to come over so Tony could talk to him too. That was going to be an interesting conversation. He was going to have to out himself. Hopefully that would go better than it had with Gibbs.
“You were thinking what, Tony?”
“Oh, uh, sorry. I got distracted,” Tony apologized. “So I was thinking that we should stop at one of the other Sam’s stores. I’m going to have a lot of room in that last crate; I could buy out the Sam’s diaper section again. I didn’t get any soda either, and I know we should have a few cases of that if at all possible.”
“And the candy section,” Ronon chipped in, ready to go along with that.
John groaned and let his head thump back against his seat.
“How did I not know about your shopping craziness, Ronon? Oh, fine,” he agreed with overdramatic reluctance. “You might as well get all the stuff you can now. I suppose. If you have to.”
Ronon just snorted.
That decided, they headed to the Sam’s Club a little farther away from Tony’s apartment and again bought all the diapers and other baby paraphernalia he thought he could fit in the crate. He snuck in (which basically meant John and Ronon ignored it when he added them) a ton of delta nipple pads. He was going to need the formula if his milk didn’t come in, but he’d need the pads if it did.
“What about laundry detergent?” Tony asked. “I assume there is some kind of laundry facility.”
“Yeah, there is. We have stuff specially made for our facility, though.” John explained. “Even though I’m guessing you’ll have a laundry either on your floor or in your apartment, we still provide the cleaner stuff.”
“Oh, please tell me there’s a dishwasher.”
“We’ll get a place where we can cook, so ours will have one.”
“Is the soap for that provided?”
“Yep.”
“Okay then,” Tony replied with relief. He didn’t want to think about trying to wash hundreds of bottles without a dishwasher.
After that, it was a trip to buy up all the “decent” coffee.
“Another question,” Tony said, frowning as they walked through the baking aisle. “You said we’ll have a kitchen, but I can’t exactly take supplies from the Mess, right? I should bring my own.”
Sheppard perked up, honestly interested for the first time that day. “You do a lot of cooking and baking?”
“Actually, I do. I haven’t cooked with anybody else’s noodles in decades. I learned to bake when I was really young. My nannies were always on rotation because they’d have to leave once my mother figured out my father was screwing them, so I spent a lot of time in the kitchen. I can make some mean homemade salsa too. It’s perfect with my enchiladas.”
“I have no idea what any of that is, but I’m sure I want to eat it. What do you need?” Ronon asked. Tony would bet that he was carefully storing away the comment about Tony’s nannies for another time.
Tony laughed and reeled off basic baking ingredients, “Flour—that’s the main one because almost everything takes flour when it comes to baking. Sugar, baking soda, baking powder, cornstarch, salt, cocoa powder.” He paused to think, then went on to make a list of everything he kept in his kitchen, ending with, “—chocolate chips—only the ones that say Ghirardelli 60% cacao bittersweet. I will not put inferior chips in my cookies.”
Ronon and John were both staring at him like he’d just suggested they strip naked and run through the store singing “I’m a Little Teapot.”
He blinked, looked around to try to figure out what they were freaking out about.
“What’s wrong?”
“That…that sounds like a lot.” Ronon said.
“It’s worse than looking for tech with Rodney,” John muttered.
“Not really. Normally people have most of these things at home all the time. At least, baking people do.”
“I think my ex-wife got the flour in the divorce,” John quipped. “Though you being a baking-type-person really explained why you wouldn’t let us buy packaged cookies.”
Tony gave him a snotty look. “Well, we could always go back and buy the Chips-a-Whore. But anybody who eats that crap doesn’t get to eat my cookies hot out of the oven.”
Ronon and John exchanged a speaking look.
“So where is the brown sugar supposed to be?” Ronon asked, looking intently at the boxes and boxes of stuff. “And why is it different from other sugar? Are there sugars of different colors out there, like blue and green too? Should I get some of those?”
Tony snickered but explained the varieties of sugars as they hunted for everything on his must-have baking list.
Eventually, they finished that part and were picking up random things like batteries in various sizes and shrink bags, along with many bottles of Tylenol, which Tony was afraid he’d need sooner rather than later since even he knew he shouldn’t take Advil anymore.
He stared for a few seconds before saying, “Screw it.” And loaded in at least two packs of everything from Advil to Zyrtec.
“Not to put a damper on your fun, but you do know we have an infirmary, right?” John asked, sounding slightly confused.
Tony nodded as he added cough drops. “I figured. But I am a planner. What happens if we can’t get shipments? You said they’ve been late. I also don’t want to waste a doc’s time if all I need is a Tylenol.” He grimaced. “I actually don’t take too much of this kind of stuff, but I figure if I really need to, I can shoot him or her an email and say, ‘I got a headache from being on the computer for too long. Took two Tylenol,’ just as easily as I can trot my happy ass over to wherever the infirmary is.”
“Your ‘happy ass?’” John mocked him.
Ronon grinned widely and opened his mouth to reply.
“Acht! No! Never mind,” John raised a hand and turned back to his cart. “Never mind. I already regret asking.”
He did point out the prenatal vitamins a few seconds later, so Tony figured he’d recovered. Tony ended up grabbing six months’ worth of four different brands, just in case. He doubted that a military base as far out as he thought it would be would just happen to have prenatals on hand.
It suddenly occurred to Tony that he hadn’t stocked up on his own grooming supplies, so he got all the heads for his Sonicare toothbrush he’d need for a year, toothpaste, and other essential stuff there before he advised the other two that he would be stopping at his hair salon and at Target after all.
Luckily, those trips were much quicker, though Tony insisted on buying a bunch of diapers and wipes at Target too.
“I am not going to run out. I know I’m buying what claims to be cloth diapers,’ he said with a gesture at the packages of white cloth, “but I know a frat brother’s wife who swears that the best burp cloths in the world are these cloth diapers. I saw them while she was in her ‘nesting’ phase for her third baby, and she showed me how she sewed strips to make them different colors and patterns so they’re not just white too.” He shrugged, blushing a little when John and Ronon both looked at him like he was crazy… Again. “Don’t look at me like that. I was the only one there who even pretended to care. My frat buddy is kind of an asshole, so not even he would listen to her.”
Sheppard raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I don’t know anything about it. I’ll be the last person to tell you you’re doing something wrong. And then only if Ronon makes me…because he’s bigger and scarier than you are.”
“I had tons of really young family members, but that doesn’t mean I paid attention to what anybody used,” Ronon said. “At least, not for that. I generally didn’t spend much time with the kids until they were about two. By then, they’d stopped randomly puking and drooling all the time.”
“Gross,” Sheppard made a face.
Tony came to a stop by the baby carriers and beds.
“Do we need one of these?” Ronon asked.
“No,” Tony eventually decided. “I’d rather see what I can find out about the makers and the reviews. I don’t want to buy something and find out too late it has manufacturer defects.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I thought for a minute there I was going to have to share the front seat with Ronon,” Sheppard snarked. “I didn’t know it was possible, but I honestly think you managed to get more packed into the SUV than you did last time.”
Tony smirked at him. “Don’t tempt me! We’re not out of the store yet.”
Hauling everything back up to the apartment was just as much fun as Tony remembered. He’d never been more grateful for an elevator in his life.
He had just shown Ronon and John where they could start in his closet with his normal shirts and jeans when Jimmy showed up.
“Hey, Tony, what—whoah!” he exclaimed as Tony let him in.
“Yeah,” Tony scrunched his nose. “It’s kind of terrifying, right?”
“I guess I didn’t think about it, or maybe I thought you’d sublet the place so it would be here when you came back.”
“Um, yeah. About that.” Tony scratched the back of his neck.
Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “What? You are coming back, aren’t you?”
Tony propped his hip on the side of the closed but not sealed crate.
“To be completely honest, I doubt it.”
Jimmy’s face went through at least five expressions before it finally settled on resigned. “I was going to tell you how much I’d miss you, but I know you know that already. I won’t give you any grief.” He sighed sadly. “I wish it were different, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Even if Vance weren’t, well, what he is, I think you’d be leaving. You’ve been miserable at NCIS for a long time now. I think you’ve outgrown your position on Gibbs’ team.”
A bark of laughter escaped Tony. “You just don’t know how true that is literally. Or it will be soon.” He called down the hallway. “Hey, Ronon? Can you come out here?”
As soon as Ronon appeared, Tony held out his hand to him with a smile. Ronon smiled back and curled his arm around him, hand resting on Tony’s opposite hip.
“Jimmy Palmer, I’d like you to be the first to meet my soon-to-be-husband, Ronon Dex. Ronon, my good friend, Jimmy.”
Jimmy stared open-mouthed for a few seconds before he got control of himself.
“Woah, wow, I mean, hello,” Jimmy stuttered and held out his hand.
Ronon took it with a polite nod. “Hey. Happy to meet you. Tony said you’re the one person worth knowing in this city.”
“Thanks, Tony. Nice to meet you, Ronon.” Jimmy grinned and said excitedly, “Congratulations, both of you! I didn’t expect this to be your news, Tony, but I think it’s awesome. I wish you’d given me enough warning that I had time to get you a wedding present. I didn’t even know you were dating!”
“Thanks,” Tony flushed in pleasure, smiling at Jimmy and Ronon. He’d known Jimmy was the one person he could trust to be happy for him. He put his hand over his abdomen. “Along with that, please say hello to Baby Dex. With what Vance pulled, Ronon and I sort of stepped up our plans. Ronon doesn’t live in the US, and I probably won’t get the chance to see you before Mini Dex shows up.”
Jimmy’s jaw dropped again, and his eyes bulged out. “Holy crap, Tony! Seriously? You’re a delta?” For the first time, he didn’t look quite so happy.
“Kysra,” Ronon corrected. “Among my people, someone like Tony is valued and is known as a kysra.”
“Oh, really? Honestly?” At Ronon’s nod, Jimmy practically sagged in relief. “I’m so glad to hear that. I think it’s great you’re gonna have a little mini-Tony. I’m just sorry I can’t be there with you. I’ll have to owe you a wedding gift and a baby gift!”
Tony finally relaxed, not completely surprised by Jimmy’s response, but relieved nonetheless.
“Thanks for not freaking out.”
Jimmy waved it off. “I was only worried about how people would treat you, that’s all.” He nudged his glasses higher on his nose with one finger. “Are you going to leave NCIS, or is there a base nearby?”
“There is a base, but things are still up in the air.” Tony made a face. “You should know that Vance is going to be supremely pissed because I’m giving him the finger by doing things this way. I’m not even sure if he’ll know until after tomorrow when I don’t report to the USS Ronald Regan.”
Jimmy’s eyes got big. “Oh, jeez, Tony. Is that going to cause problems for you?”
Tony shrugged. “No. If Ronon and I end up on the base, which is hella classified, my assignment will have to come from someone above Vance.”
“That’ll piss him off even more,” Jimmy said, then snickered. “Serves him right! If he hadn’t been so stupid, you and your husband could have just stayed here.”
“Maybe, but I know it would have been hard with Baby Dex on the way. I don’t think anyone knows I’m a delta.”
“Isn’t it in your file?”
“I doubt Vance has looked that closely at it. He probably will once I’m gone, so be prepared for me to be outed,” Tony cautioned. “You have to pretend to be just as shocked and horrified as everyone else, okay?”
Jimmy got a stubborn look. “I’ll pretend to be shocked, but I’m not going to pretend to be horrified or ashamed of you. You’re the same person I’ve always been proud to call my friend. I’m not going to hide that.”
Touched, Tony had to clear his throat to keep from tearing up. He hadn’t expected that, not even from Jimmy.
“Tony’s right. You are the one person worth knowing in this place,” Ronon said approvingly.
Jimmy shrugged and blushed.
“Still, thanks.” Tony cleared his throat again. “Well, so long as you don’t cause yourself any more grief, I’m happy for people to know we’re friends. Uh, and I hate to say this, but please don’t share anything with Ducky. As much as I love him…”
“His first loyalty is to Gibbs because they’ve been friends for so long,” Jimmy said. “I get it. He’s a great guy, but I’m not as naïve as I look.”
Tony laughed. “I know you’re not innocent, that’s for sure. I know exactly why my probie had to run things down to autopsy all the time, and it wasn’t because she was wild about Ducky’s stories.”
Face turning bright red, Jimmy snickered. “Yeah, well. What can I say?” He quickly changed the topic. “So you’re heading out today I assume, since all your stuff is gone?”
Tony nodded. “We’re packing up the last crate now, and somebody will come get it for transport. I know I’m going with Ronon, so I wanted to leave now while I can still leave with him instead of coming later after NCIS has a chance to get all their shit together.”
Tony leaned against Ronon, their bodies fitting together as though they’d been doing it for years, something Jimmy noticed if the pleased gleam in his eye was any indication.
“I’m just so happy for you; I can’t get over it. Will you be able to keep in touch?”
“I hope so. If we’re on base, everything is completely classified, like I said, to the point that all email will be monitored incoming and outgoing.”
“If you want to send a regular letter or a package, that will be monitored too,” John said as he walked into the room. “Ronon is on my team, so I can give you the address if you intend to send anything.”
“John, this is my good friend Jimmy Palmer. Jimmy, Ronon’s bestie, John Sheppard.” Tony made the introductions again, grinning when John glared at him for the bestie remark.
“Hi, nice to meet you too.” Jimmy held out his hand again for another brief handshake. “I don’t have a pen with me, but I’ve got my phone. Is it okay if I store this address in it, or is it something nobody else should get ahold of?” He held up the device itself. “I’m just thinking in case my phone gets stolen or hacked.”
“Your phone should be fine, since everything goes to a sorting and screening center and then is shipped from there.” John rattled off the address, checking it on the phone when Jimmy requested he do so.
“Hey, while I’m thinking about it, why don’t I set up an email just for the two of us to use? It’s probably paranoid, but I want to make sure nobody at NCIS knows it.” He frowned angrily. “And you know how a couple of people at work can be when it comes to invading others’ privacy.”
“Point.” Tony sighed. “Amazing how they would kill anyone for invading their privacy, yet they have no problem getting into everyone else’s.”
John raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure who you’re talking about, but if things work out, I’ll make sure the director gets the message that anyone trying to follow you down the rabbit hole will earn them a lifetime vacation at GTMO.”
Jimmy and Tony exchanged glances and snickered. “Yeah, definitely do that. The names you’ll be watching for are Abby Sciuto and Timothy McGee.”
“I’ll be sure to let our people know.”
Tony couldn’t tell if John was joking or not since 90% of what he said sounded sarcastic. Ronon looked viciously gleeful at the thought of putting Tony’s former coworkers in GTMO.
“Okay, here’s my new email address.” Jimmy said. “Want me to text it to you?”
“No, better not to have any record. And email me from your home computer and network only,” Tony said, getting out his own phone to type in the address. “I’ll come up with a new email too and email you from that. I won’t ever put our names in it. I’ll use, hmm…I’ll be Skywalker, Ronon will be Obi Wan, and Sheppard can be Han Solo. At least until we’re sure this is working out.”
Jimmy grinned. “Okay. I’ll be Scarecrow, Ducky is the Tinman, Gibbs is the Wicked Witch.”
“No, Abby is the Wicked Witch,” Tony corrected. “Gibbs doesn’t wear enough black.”
Amused, Jimmy amended, “You’re very right. Okay. Gibbs can be the Cowardly Lion, Vance is Oz, and McGee can be Toto.”
They both laughed a little meanly at that.
“Sheppard and I have packed everything we can. You want to do the suits while we make a food run?” Ronon asked, kissing Tony’s temple.
“That would be awesome,” Tony nodded. “Care to stay and help me, Jimmy? We’ll get plenty, and you can take home any leftovers. There’s also one other thing I want to talk to you about.”
“Sure! I’d love to help you,” Jimmy agreed. “I’m so glad you called so I could see you before you left.”
After they sent the other two for carry out and Tony had shown Jimmy the proper way to pack up his suits, Jimmy brought up something Tony never guessed he would.
“Ah, this is really personal, but…”
Tony repressed a smile at how red his friend was. “Just go for it; you know I’m not going to mind.”
Apparently not able to look at him, Jimmy went on, “Well, it’s just that I never expected you to be with a guy.”
“Because of how much I talked about screwing women?”
“No,” Jimmy shook his head. “I thought you might not remember, and I guess I was right.”
“Might not remember what?”
“Uh, that week you’d worked over a hundred hours and I made you come over to my place so I could make sure you ate something?”
Tony frowned, trying to remember. He carefully smoothed the protector flap down over the suits so he could zip the garment bag as he thought.
“Oh,” he said, finally hitting on what Jimmy was talking about. “This was while Gibbs was still in Mexico, right?” Jimmy looked relieved that he remembered at least a little.
“Yeah.” Jimmy nodded, handing Tony the suit he’d just finished putting in its protective bag so Tony could pack it how he wanted it in the crate. “You said you were so tired you couldn’t sleep, so I got us both a beer and we started watching the game I’d saved on the DVR.”
“Right. I remember that. But something else must have happened, right?”
“Well, I didn’t know that one beer was going to make you so chatty, but you started telling me about Wendy and then about dating guys after her.” Jimmy frowned unhappily. “You said some things that made me think somebody had hurt you pretty bad—physically, I mean. At first I thought…well, you know what I thought. You made it clear that it was consensual, but you said you’d never sleep with a guy again.”
Tony flushed and ran his hand over the cowlick at the crown of his head, a nervous habit he tried not to indulge unless he knew he could afford to show his weakness.
“Wow, yeah.” He winced. “You’re right that I don’t remember telling you that, but you honestly don’t have to be worried about me.”
Meeting his eyes determinedly, Jimmy said, “Just tell me it’s not like that with Ronon. I mean, I don’t really think you’d be going with him if it were, but I can’t help worrying, especially since you’re moving kind of stiffly today.”
“Right.” Tony gave an embarrassed laugh. “Look, you really don’t need to worry about that. I won the lottery with Ronon. He’s…he’s kind of amazing. Like melt my brain amazing.”
Jimmy studied his face for several seconds before nodding in satisfaction.
“Good. I’m really happy for you, Tony. You deserve someone who will be good to you.”
“Thanks.” Tony pulled out another suit and garment bag. “Completely different topic, but I wanted to talk to you about my SUV.”
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t even think about that. I suppose you can’t take it with you.”
“I’m not going to be back for a long time if ever, so I don’t need a car. I don’t have time to sell it either.”
“So what are you going to do with it?” Jimmy asked, carefully tucking yet another suit into its garment bag.
Tony eyed him. “That’s where I’m hoping you’ll agree to help me out. I know you’re in school and you’re on a shoestring budget. I’ve been there, believe me. I was wondering if you’d be interested in either buying it or helping me sell it for a percentage of the price.”
“Oh,” Jimmy grimaced. “I wish I could buy it. My car is on its last legs. I keep waiting for it to refuse to start some morning.”
“So let’s do that, then. I cashed in a CD to pay for it in full. Let’s just do a really easy payment plan with no interest.” He named a price and a monthly payment. “Would that work for you?”
Taking the next suit out for packing, Jimmy nodded slowly. “I think that will work really well.”
“Great!” Tony grinned. “You have indoor parking?”
“Yeah, it’s actually a decent garage that goes along with the unit I’m renting.”
“Even better. So take $150 per month off the payment price, since that’s what I’d owe you for garage rental.”
“No, Tony! I can’t take advantage of you like that,” Jimmy objected. “I need to pay you a fair price.”
“You are,” Tony argued. “I’d ask you to store it for me if I were selling to anyone else, and I’d have to put you on an account so you could pay the garage rental fee. This way, we both get a great deal.”
Jimmy looked worried, so Tony stopped and put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, you have been my friend even when everybody else bailed. You’ve been honest with me and have kept my secrets. You’re happy for me now when I know nobody else would be—or they would be more concerned about how my leaving was going to impact them. Let me do this for you. It’s really not that big a deal in the grand scheme of things.”
“Alright,” Jimmy finally said. “I’ll agree if you promise that I’ll get to see you and Baby Dex in person when you can.”
“Deal.” Tony grinned, happy and relieved. “Now, help me check the apartment. I want to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind.”
*~*~*~*
Lunch was fun. Tony and Jimmy got to share some stories about their crazy coworkers and some of the wild things that had gone on. It was nice to reminisce and remember that there had been some good times in there along with all the bad. The bad had just overpowered the good for so long that it was hard to see it that way.
All too soon, Tony was signing the SUV over to Jimmy and hugging him goodbye.
“Take care of yourself, Tony,” Jimmy said into Tony’s shoulder as they hugged. “You and the baby.”
“You too, Jimmy.” Looking at Jimmy’s watery red eyes, Tony was feeling a little emotional himself. “Remember to be yourself and not let them get you down.”
“I will,” Jimmy replied, hugging Tony again.
Then Jimmy was gone, the lids were secured on the crates, and it was time to go.
“Ready, Tony?” John asked.
Tony could only nod.
A look passed between John and Ronon.
“Come here, m’kysra,” Ronon said gently, reaching for Tony.
Tony went to him, happy to be held in Ronon’s arms. He wrapped his own around Ronon’s waist and rested his head against him. He looked up when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.
John finished tucking the strange looking hands-free device into his ear. He gave Tony a faint smile when he realized he was watching.
“Daedalus, this is Sheppard.”
“What?” Tony tipped his head back to look at Ronon. “Who’s he talking to?”
“Three people and two crates ready when you are.”
There was an odd feeling, and then the apartment was gone.
“Holy shit!” Tony spun away, looking around in shock. “Roswell Alien?!”
“No. Hermiod of the Asgard.” Roswell!Alien said.
Tony just stared, brain stopped and completely at a loss for words as Ronon came up beside him, sliding his arm around his waist again. That was probably a good thing because Tony wasn’t sure whether he was going to freak out or start babbling stupid shit about Star Trek.
“Anthony DiNozzo, welcome to Daedalus,” John said from his other side. “A United States BC-304 interstellar warship.”
Tony stared down at the blue and green sphere out the window, speechless. He lifted one hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he lifted both and clenched them in his hair. It wasn’t quite a pinch, but there was a sting that let him know he wasn’t dreaming.
Eventually, he asked without looking away from his planet, “Did we really get beamed up here? Like Star Trek beamed?”
“Pretty much,” John answered with a sly little grin. “You see why I couldn’t tell you anything?”
Tony nodded distractedly, immediately making the leap. “Sateda isn’t a country.”
“No.” Ronon told him, watching his reaction closely. “Sateda is my home planet.”
“You’re an alien.”
Ronon huffed. “I guess in this galaxy I am, but Earthers are the aliens at home.”
“Earthers. I’m an Earther,” Tony muttered under his breath. Then, louder, “To Atlantis.”
“You caught my slip, huh? Yeah. Atlantis is home.”
“The baby will be okay?” Tony asked suddenly, focused on Ronon. He couldn’t help thinking about Alien Autopsy and all the sci fi he probably should have skipped.
“Yeah, zy’ll be perfectly fine.”
Tony studied him intently, then nodded shortly and turned back to the window. Or whatever it was called, if it wasn’t called a window on a spaceship. A motherfucking spaceship!!!
Mother of James Cameron, he was on a fucking spaceship. In space. The little kid part of him that had always wanted to be an astronaut was running circles around the inside of his brain, screaming gleefully and clapping his hands.
“I know you’re kinda in shock, but I promised we’d only be here a few minutes before we’d meet some other folks and have you sign a stack of forms before we tell you anything more.” John sounded like he regretted having to hurry Tony along.
“We’re going to beam there?”
“Yeah, just about the only option.”
“Two minutes, okay?” Tony requested, turning into Ronon’s arms and burying his face in his neck. Ronon immediately held him tight. Tony’s fingers clenched in Ronon’s shirt like he was holding on for dear life. He kind of felt like that was what he was doing. Not in a million years did it ever occur to him that he’d be going to another planet. In another galaxy. To get married to an alien. And have his baby.
Tony forced himself to breathe slowly. He was not having a panic attack on a spaceship in front of Hermi-whatsit, Roswell!Alien.
Actually, it said something that Tony had turned to Ronon for reassurance. Turning to someone else instead of handing terrifying things by himself was definitely a different impulse than he normally had. That said something about what his instincts thought about the man.
Another thought occurred to him, and he started chuckling silently, his shoulders shaking.
“Hey, no, m’kysra,” Ronon crooned softly. “It’s going to be alright.”
Ronon pulled back so Ronon could see his face. “I’m laughing, not crying. It just occurred to me: the only place where kysra are treated with respect and valued as people is on another planet in another galaxy. I just can’t—” he made a disgusted noise and shook his head.
Ronon still looked worried and didn’t seem about to let Tony out of his arms any time soon, so Tony leaned in and tilted his chin up for a kiss. That seemed to please Ronon, who cradled Tony’s head in one hand and held him still while he kissed him passionately.
Tony was only vaguely aware of John hissing, “Lindsey!” at someone.
“What? They’re civilians. I can watch and think they’re hot if I want.”
Okay, that Tony heard. He and Ronon ended the kiss, and Tony looked around until he spotted the woman. He grinned mischievously.
“Glad we could make your day.”
She grinned back and him and waved. “Don’t let me interrupt you.”
“Actually, please do let Dr. Novak interrupt you,” Sheppard objected. “Are you ready to go?”
“Up to you, Tony,” Ronon told him, still refusing to let go of him.
“You’ll stay with me, right?”
Sheppard snorted and muttered something about being like white cat fur on dress blues.
“All the time. As close as you’ll let me be.”
Tony took a breath and let it out slowly. “Alright, then.” He looked to Roswell!Alien. “Hermiod, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m ready to go, and I’m really glad that you know how to get all my parts back where they belong.” He paused and gave Hermiod his best puppy dog begging expression. “You would really, totally make my day if you said ‘Energize’ before you sent us back.”
“You’re welcome.” Unless he missed his guess, Roswell had a gleam of humor in its (alien!) eyes. “Humans would be even more unsightly with their parts rearranged. Sending you now, Colonel Sheppard. Energize.”
Tony didn’t have time to laugh before there was that weird pause/tingle feeling again, and the three of them were deposited in a meeting room that had a definite military vibe going for it.
“Ah, there you are,” said a man with short dark hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a blue Air Force uniform. “I’m glad to see everything worked out, Colonel Sheppard.”
“Me too.” John turned to Tony and Ronon. “Anthony DiNozzo, Ronon Dex, I’d like you to meet Lt. Colonel Paul Davis. He’s going to get Tony started on the exciting-beyond-words paperwork. Colonel Davis, Ronon Dex of Sateda, and Anthony DiNozzo, our newest addition to Atlantis.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tony said automatically. “It’s just Tony, please.” He knew better than to assume the privilege of a first name would be reciprocated.
“So Tony has to fill out all this stuff? You guys know zy’s not going to say anything. Zy isn’t going to change zyr mind. We’re having a baby,” Ronon grumped.
Davis’ smile was merely polite. Hmm. He wasn’t thrilled about what was going on. Interesting.
“I understand that, Mr. Dex. However, these forms are required of all Earth citizens who learn about our program. After we’re through here, I’m sure Colonel Sheppard will be happy to show you around the base until it’s time to dial the gate and send you all home.”
The gate? What the heck kind of gate did you dial? For that matter, what the heck kind of gate was going to get them to another galaxy? (Another galaxy, holy shit!)
The paperwork was as mind numbing as he’d anticipated and did a lot to get to him to chill out, though he was able to get through it more quickly than Davis had said he would. That was probably because he was used to government documents and knew what to skim and what to read every single letter of before signing. He actually caught several things about fraternization with native populations that he couldn’t agree to because of Ronon. Davis had to call somebody and have two entire sections amended and reprinted. Tony wisely did not crack any jokes about Davis being a tree killer.
Afterward, he got to see a bit of the base and hear the absolutely insane explanation for how the stargate, as it was properly called, had been discovered and how it had enabled humans to find other life in the Milky Way galaxy for the first time in thousands of years. Of course, they also got themselves in a whole lot of trouble and met some seriously bad people. Creatures. Things. Goa’uld. Whatever. Too bad they hadn’t had anyone who watched science fiction. Tony could’ve told them before they set out the first time that they were going to get their asses kicked by scary beings.
He almost didn’t want to know what the scary neighbors were like in Pegasus, which was where Atlantis was located, as it turned out.
Tony was given a complete physical by the CMO, a doctor named Carolyn Lam. She was nice if brisk, which was better than he’d been anticipating. There were tests they couldn’t do, like X-ray. They did do a full-body MRI, which was about as much torture as Tony could take after having to sit and go through all those forms. He was just glad she decided they couldn’t do one with contrast since that might not be safe for the baby.
Then came the real fun. Tony got the pleasure of having every inoculation they were certain wouldn’t cause him or Baby Dex harm. Tony tried to refuse, but Lam wasn’t having it and looked ready to have her people hold him down.
“No, no, look,” Tony raised his hands and was walking backwards. He really fucking hoped she’d let him explain before she started stabbing him. “I had the plague a few years ago. I never had a problem before that, but ever since I nearly died, I’ve turned into a whiny loser when it comes to needles.”
Lam stopped abruptly. “You had the plague?” she asked, looking shocked.
“Yeah, I’m an NCIS Agent, and someone sent a genetically engineered form of plague to our office. She was smart about how she did it, so it didn’t die during the irradiation process.” Back on familiar territory, he shot her a smile. “I am the lucky one who opened the envelope. You can pull up my records from Dr. Brad Pitt at Bethesda. He’s—”
Lam was nodding her head. “An infectious disease specialist, I know. Oh wow, I read the case study on you. You’re really him? The guy who had pneumonic plague?”
“In the flesh.” He grinned. “So can you cut me some slack about the needles? I’m not refusing!” he stopped her before she could get going down that path. “I just need, I dunno, maybe somebody in here who can distract me? If they’re a movie aficionado or a sports fan, that would be awesome. College ball is my preference, though I can talk about pretty much anything. Oh, if you have an Ohio Buckeye fan, even better. I can talk Buckeye sports from the year the university was founded on to current day.”
“No freaking way is there another Buckeye in the house!”
The shout came from behind another curtain.
“Wait, really?” Seriously, Tony could be in a military infirmary getting shots so he could leave the galaxy, and he ran into a Buckeye?
“Hell, yes! Dr. Lam, if you bring him over to my side of the curtain, I can talk to him while you stab him with pointy things.”
Lam didn’t seem like she quite knew what to do with that, but she gave a dismissive shrug and started wheeling Tony’s try over.
“Open the curtain for me, Agent DiNozzo. Let’s just get this done.”
“It’s a plan.”
The guy in the bed looked like a badger had asked him to go three rounds, but he’d thought that meant golf and said, “sure!” He was grinning like he was about to win the lottery, though, so Tony figured they had him on some pretty good meds.
The second he saw Tony, he started patting the bed beside him with the arm that wasn’t in a cast.
“Here, park it over here! Bring that tray thing she’s got closer and just let her go to town.”
And how could Tony refuse an offer like that? He gingerly lowered himself to the edge of the hospital cot as instructed and leaned, tugging his jeans down enough that Dr. Lam could “go to town” on his upper buttock.
“So, I gotta ask, what the hell happened to you?” Tony hadn’t meant to, but the question just fell out. Thankfully, the guy laughed.
“No, no. We can’t start there, though it’s damned hilarious, if I do say so myself. First, who are you and when did you go to OH State?” he demanded.
“Um, okay. Tony DiNozzo and 1989 to 93. You?”
“Awesome! Okay, I’m Jeff Wolfe and 90 to 94.” He paused, and his eyes got big. “Hey, you are so not Tony DiNozzo who played for OH State and got his leg broken by a fuckin—er, sorry, Dr. Lam, freaking Wolverine, are you?”
Tony grinned now. Wolfe was higher than some of the crack addicts Tony had arrested back in the day. He was a little jealous.
“Yes, but! It gets way weirder than that!”
“Well? Don’t leave a fellow Buckeye hanging like this, bro!”
“That Wolverine who broke my leg?”
Wolfe nodded.
“Yeah, his name was Brad Pitt, and he saved me from the plague a few years back.”
“No fucking—Sorry Dr. Lam! No freaking way! You speak lays. Lains. Not truths!”
“Not even a little bit.” Tony bit his lip to keep from cracking up.
“That is awesome! You were awesome! Bet you still are awesome! Fuck! Oops! Sorry, Dr. Lam!”
There was the sound of choked off laughter next to him.
“No welching on our deal, now Wolfe. What happened to you that they had to give you the reeeally good drugs?”
Wolfe started giggling, and Tony knew this was going to be better than Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Unfortunately, Wolfe giggled himself right to sleep. Really. One second giggling like a thirteen-year-old girl with a crush, the next second, completely passed out and snoring like a chainsaw.
“Did he really just do that?”
Dr. Lam snickered. “He really did. It’s the morphine we’ve got him on.”
Tony shook his head. “But I didn’t even get to hear his story!”
“It’s really not that great. He was on a mission, tripped and fell about twenty feet before tumbling down a gully,” Lam informed him. “I think he just thinks it’s funny because what he tripped over was the mechanism that opened the ruins they’d been sent to find.”
“I see.” Tony “One of those ‘It Happened on the Way to the Ruins’ moments, but only funny when you’re on drugs. When you’re not, it’s just ironic?”
“Pretty much.” Lam patted him on the shoulder. “But the good thing is he got you distracted enough that you made it through all those vaccinations!”
“So I’m done?” he asked hopefully.
“One last thing,” Lam replied, picking up the hugest needle Tony had ever seen. “I know, sorry. If I’d realized he was going to go to sleep, I’d have started with this. It’s a tracking chip that everyone—on Atlantis and here—is required to have. Believe me, you want it. Having one of these has been the difference between getting someone back alive and never getting them back at all.”
Tony whimpered.
“I’m sorry, Tony, but it’s just one poke to the back of your upper arm.”
She really did look like she felt sorry for him, so Tony didn’t push. He just wished Ronon were with him. He hadn’t understood why he could have his lover stay with him, but Ronon had been required to stay with John, and he’d been required to brief some General, so off they’d gone.
Tony took deep breaths as he felt Dr. Lam wipe the back of his arm with an alcohol pad.
The stick wasn’t so much a stick as a sharp jab, and Tony whimpered again.
“I’d really rather be shot by a bullet,” he complained.
A few more seconds, and Lam replied, “Well, at least there’s a purpose to this. And. You’re all done.”
“You promise?” He gave her his most pathetic hangdog expression.
“All done, I promise. If I had a sticker and a lollipop, I’d give it to you.” She smiled then. “You’re free to go as soon as your people come get you. Otherwise, I can have an MP escort you up to the meeting room they said they were going to be in.”
Tony moved his arm back and tried to look at the backside over his shoulder. “No offense, but I think we’ll both be happier the sooner I’m gone.” Tony felt like a pincushion despite having been distracted. It wasn’t like he could totally ignore the sensation of being stabbed by multiple needles, and that last one had really sucked.
Dr. Lam motioned to one of the MPs. “I thought you might say that. Airman, would you please escort Agent DiNozzo?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the MP nodded. “This way, sir.”
As soon as they were out of Dr. Lam’s sight, the MP radiated hostility and refused to answer in anything but grunts or single words. It’s not exactly unexpected, but he’d thought maybe… Tony let it go and just followed him through the massive gray rat’s maze until they reached the right meeting room.
Tony was very glad to see Ronon, even if he wouldn’t let himself show it. Ronon, however, had none of his hangups and pretty much dragged him into his arms where he could run his hands over Tony like he was checking for injuries. Ronon looked anxious, if Tony was any judge, and not just about Tony being out of his sight for the first time since they’d met. Tony shot John a look, but the Colonel looked away and seemed unhappily stoic, if there was such a thing.
Tony figured out why soon enough when he got another briefing with Lt. Colonel Davis, this time about the Pegasus galaxy and all the dangers therein. He had to watch a video of John as he turned into a bug, and another of him being fed on by a wraith. Not even Tony could maintain his composure during something like that.
“So, the bug thing is creepy.” Tony was going to need every ounce of sarcasm and inappropriate humor he had just to keep from freaking the fuck out.
Ronon snorted.
“Thanks,” John snarked. “I always say, if you can’t be a good example, then at least be a terrible warning. I really don’t recommend turning into a bug.”
“Well, it’s not totally your fault,” Tony retorted. “You had all those Spiderman comics you were trying to live up to, and you couldn’t find a spider. Am I right?”
John snorted and smirked for the first time since that briefing had begun. “Yes, Tony, that’s it exactly. Except I didn’t get any cool superpowers out of the deal.”
Tony shook his head mock-sorrowfully. “That sucks, but I think it’s lucky that you didn’t end up with an irresistible impulse to eat flies or take up spinning webs or something.”
“Well, there is that.”
“The wraith thing though. That’s kind of terrifying.”
John nodded. “Yeah, we try really hard to avoid them.”
“I can see why. On a one-to-ten scale of terrifying, they’re definitely a nine.”
“Ye- Wait. What?” John looked genuinely shocked. “How do the wraith not automatically rate an eleven on your one-to-ten scale?”
Tony shrugged. “The goa’uld are more terrifying, sorry.”
Ronon and John exchanged incredulous looks. Lt. Colonel Davis just looked at him like he was stupid.
“What? The wraith kill you in and eat you in a horrible and terrifying way, which yeah, I should probably just pencil in some nightmares featuring handshakes gone wrong for the next however many years. However, the goa’uld? They take over your body, possibly for thousands of years, using it to do all sorts of sick and evil things to other humans. Or they torture you for months, maybe years, and bring you back by sticking you in a sarcophagus. That’s worse. Dead is dead, but I’d take that any day over unending torture and/or unending mind rape. Sorry.”
“Well, that’s a…unique perspective,” John said, but he looked like he still thought Tony was nuts.
Ronon just grunted. “Probably a good one to have since you’re coming to Pegasus, not staying here and hunting down that last guy, what’s his name?”
“Ba’al,” Tony chimed in. “Not to be confused with ball. One you want at the beach. The other you want dead.” Becoming serious again, Tony asked, “Will I have access to these files? I’d like to at least read through what everyone has experienced so I don’t open my mouth and insult a huge number of people right away.”
John nodded. “Yeah, as the NCIS agent, you’ll have as high a clearance level as pretty much anyone. There will be some exceptions, of course. Come to me if you have questions or think a case you’re working is linked to something you can’t access.”
Davis looked at his watch and then to John. “Well, if that’s all, I believe the General would like to open the stargate in about thirty minutes. You might want to make sure all your belongings are where they’re supposed to be and ready to go.”
John nodded once. “Yeah, General Landry said they’re taking the opportunity to send some personnel and supplies.” He slid his chair back from the conference table. “Well, we better get going. Thank you, Colonel Davis.”
“You’re welcome, Colonel Sheppard,” Davis returned with a nod. He was already distracted with all of Tony’s completed paperwork.
Tony and Ronon followed John to the gateroom, which turned out to be a truly huge room with a floor-to-ceiling metal ring looking thing. People were swarmed all around it and the many crates, military boxes, and equipment pieces on pallets.
“It’s a little overwhelming when you’re not used to it,” John said, practically echoing Tony’s thoughts.
“Definitely,” he agreed. “How do I know which crates are mine?” He didn’t see his piano anywhere. He hoped to hell it was safe in one of those crates.
“Yeah, I was just going to see if I could find—oh, they’re right up there at the foot of the ramp.”
A quick jerk of John’s chin indicated the direction, and sure enough, those were Tony’s crates.
“Why not right up by the circle thing? I assume that is the gate, right?”
The corner of John’s lip quirked upward. “Because what looks like a giant pool of water has to form inside the ring. First, though, it looks like it shoots out of the ring before it’s gathered back in to become the pool.”
“No, he’s not kidding,” Ronon said when all Tony could do was stare at John to try to figure out if he was serious or not.
“Alright, people, get sorted. We’re ready to dial Atlantis.”
The announcement came from speakers in the walls, and Tony looked behind them to see that doors of a sort had opened to show a bunch of people at various computers through the clear—bulletproof he assumed—glass. There was one main figure standing still, so Tony assumed he was the General Landry people had talked about.
“C’mon,” John said, starting forward. “We’re up front.”
Quiet for once, Tony was just taking it all in. Soon the ring began to spin, and the metal pieces clamped down on one weird symbol as a different voice announced a “chevron” had been locked. That happened several more times before, true to what John said, there was a “kerwoosh” sound, and it looked like water was going to come through the gate and drench them all. Then it was sucked back in to form a blue pool.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
“Atlantis, this is Stargate Command. Please respond.”
“Stargate Command, this is Atlantis. One moment while I get Colonel Carter for you.” There was a wait of about thirty seconds, and a female voice came through.
“Stargate Command, this is Colonel Carter. General Landry, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”
“Colonel Carter, rather than sending your people back on the Daedalus, we will be sending them through now along with your new personnel and supplies. Are you prepared to receive?”
“Yes, of course. Please send them through. Though may I ask why the change of plans?”
“I’ll let Colonel Sheppard explain that as soon as he arrives. Sending now.”
Unless Tony was seriously mistaken, the General was enjoying the hell out of putting Sheppard on the spot.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“I’m not,” Ronon said, making Tony turn and look at him. “Shall we?” his lover held out his hand, and Tony gladly took it.
“That’s our cue,” Colonel Sheppard said, then louder commanded, “Let’s go, people. We have a lot to get through the gate and a limited amount of time. Move it!”
John started walking up the ramp toward the gate, and Ronon and Tony followed directly behind him. A brief glance behind him showed the frenzy had been organized, and it looked like everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing, though people were still going around with clipboards and checking things off. Tony took a deep breath and started forward. His heart was pounding by the time they were a yard away from the pool of not-water.
Ronon squeezed his hand. “It’s alright, Tony. I’m right here.”
Tony forced himself to keep walking as they hit the not-water. An instant of forever hot-cold spinning-whirling deafening noise and silence, and they were walking through another gate. Only Ronon’s hand in his kept him moving after that first step because he was overwhelmed by blue-green walls, windows, light, and angles that he was certain didn’t exist anywhere on Earth.
But that wasn’t the only thing. Tony’s mind was alight with joy and wonder. He couldn’t even speak, he could only think,
No one said anything about Atlantis being alive!
