Five Ways John Sheppard Didn't Keep it in His Pants

For a hotshot pilot, flying a slow orbit through the solar system was just about the farthest thing from flying you could get, without actually getting out of your ship. John glanced at the readout again, but saw that in the last two minutes nothing had changed.

He tried not to think about the fact that at top speed he could have slingshotted his way around the fourth planet and dive bombed the slight asteroid belt beyond it. But he was collecting scans for the science team, and they had specified in great detail what his flight path and speed needed to be.

The number of times they'd stressed his speed made John wonder if maybe they didn't have utterly unfair, if true, impressions of Air Force pilots.

Holding back a yawn, he wished he'd thought to bring a book. Or even a co-pilot; someone to talk to would have helped. But he didn't think he needed any help on such a brainless milkrun, and now he was paying for it. The only thing to do was talk to himself, read through the jumper's data logs for a fourth time, or--

John blinked. Well, he *was* alone. It wouldn't kill much time but at least he'd enjoy himself. He snuck a look at the radio -- made sure it was switched to receive only, with no accidental knocking of any
switches to re-open his mike back to Atlantis.

Then he leaned back and thought about the opening sequence to his current favorite fantasy, and slid his thumb up the rise of his pants.

He sat bolt upright when the puddle jumper's forward screen flickered, and a porn movie began playing. Jaw dropped, but hand still firmly in position, John watched as two figures began acting out the very fantasy he'd begun thinking about.

When the figures stilled, John hesitantly concentrated for a second, and the figures resumed.

John pressed down on his cock, which was quickly growing hard. He glanced over his shoulder, knowing full well no one was there but unable not to give in to paranoia. He looked at the radio again -- not transmitting anything. The figures on the screen were almost fully undressed, now, and they were beginning to kiss like they meant to swallow each others' tongues.

"Do not *ever* tell anyone about this," John said sharply, giving the puddle jumper a stern glare. Then he shoved his hand down the front of his pants, and leaned back to watch.


"What is it?" John peered at the dusty piece of ancient machinery, trying not to get too close despite Rodney's assurance that the thing was a useless piece of rusted metal.

Behind him, Rodney had already started to walk away. "I don't know, I don't care -- it has barely any power left, and the symbols on the wall beside it clearly indicate that it's some kind of biomedical device, and not a secret cache of ZPMs, or weapons, or anything that could possibly be useful."

"Huh." John could see the symbol Rodney was talking about, and he reached over and brushed some of the dirt away from the second symbol.

The machine hummed, and a small door opened on the front panel. John jumped back, but too late to avoid getting stung in the second most sensitive spot he owned.

"OW! What the hell?!"

It took Rodney ten minutes, and a call back to Carson, to figure out that the Ancient Fertility Clinic had taken its most recent deposit, but that the digitally encoded storage banks were damaged, so that no
samples had actually been saved.

"No little Johns running around twenty years from now," Rodney said, smirking, as they headed back to the gate.

John decided it was a diplomatic move on his part that he *didn't* shoot McKay in the ass.


For a change, the natives seemed happy to see them, *and* had continued to be happy to see them for three days running. No secret underground bunkers had shown up, no one had gotten kidnapped, and no one had accidentally traded away every female in the botany department to the local chief.

It had been a pleasant stay. The climate and sleeping in the grass huts had made John feel like he was vacationing in the tropics, even if the flowers had a disturbing tendency to have neon and pastel stripes and the chickens were two feet tall and had tiny forelegs, like feathered T. Rexes.

He'd quickly got used to it, and John thought this this place just might do for a designated R&R location. He made a note to mention it to Elizabeth as he headed down to the lake to collect the rest of his team.

One of the chickens plucked at his pantsleg, and John looked down. He smiled and gave the birds' head a pat, then bent down and picked up the leaf the bird had been carrying in its front foreclaw.

When he walked on, the bird followed him. The bird kept following him as he gathered up Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon. It followed him, making loud clucking noises, as they went to the edge of the village to make their goodbyes.

John tried to give the bird back to its owner, and she giggled.

"It has chosen you for its mate," she said, and the other women around her giggled as well.

John tried to think of a polite way to explain that he didn't like chicken *that* much.

The woman, Friy, waved her hands. "It is symbolic mating, of course. It happens from time to time; the bird offers its chosen a gift. You accepted the gift, and now... you are mated."

Behind John, his supportive and loyal teammates were stifling laughter. "That's great," John said. "I'm sure it'll forget all about me once we've gone."

"Oh, no!" Friy said, eyes growing wide in sincere distress. "The tzyuk will pine for you, and refuse to eat. It will die without its mate."

John closed his eyes for a second, then he looked down. The bird was scratching contentedly at the ground near John's feet. It lifted its head and gazed up at John in what he could swear was adoration.

"I don't suppose it would be some kind of sacrilege if we ate it?" he asked.

Rodney said, "I didn't think the urge for marital homicide set in for at least five years."


John woke up in the infirmary, which was a relief. A relief because it was clearly the Atlantis infirmary, and the people gathered around his bed were people who a) he recognised and b) recognised *him*.

"Oh, thank god," John whispered.

"Welcome back," Elizabeth said.

"Thanks. Wow, that was... possibly the weirdest thing that's happened to me in the last four months."

"What about the thing with the blue gum?" Ronon asked.

"No," John shook his head. "That was McKay's fault, so it counts as perfectly normal."

"Hey!"

John looked over to the other side of the bed where Rodney and Carson were standing. "You're going to deny it was your fault?"

"I'm denying the fact that sort of thing is *normal*. Er--" Rodney stopped and looked thoughtful. "OK, never mind. You have a point."

"So, John," Elizabeth said. "What... happened?"

That surprised him. "You don't know? How'd you bring me back, then?"

"Well, we brought you back," she said, nodding towards Rodney and Radek. "But we weren't exactly sure where you'd gone."

"Oh." John realised this made perfect sense. As much as the blue gum had, at any rate. "Well, I was back on Earth." He paused as everyone's expressions grew surprised. He tossed in the next tidbit of not-so-normal. "I woke up on a beach, at night. Like I'd been shipwrecked or something, and washed ashore. A woman found me and took me back to this little cottage--" He paused at the snort from Rodney.

"It's always a woman, isn't it?"

"Do you want to hear what happened, or not?" John demanded.

"You can skip the details about sleeping with her, but otherwise, yes." Rodney waved his hand for him to continue.

John felt himself blush as he skipped the part where he insisted he hadn't had sex with the woman -- because he had -- and said, "I think I was in Canada, and I'm not sure, but I think I went back in time. The cottage was pretty old fashioned, and the way she was dressed... Probably forty years."

"Back in time?" Elizabeth looked shocked, as did they all. "Do you think you were really there, or was it maybe some kind of virtual reality?"

"I thought we extracted him from an actual time and place," Rodney said, glancing at Radek, who muttered something in physics and nodded.

"So what was her name, this nursemaid of yours?" Rodney asked.

"Claire, something. I don't think I got her last name."

Beside Rodney, Carson suddenly gave him a furious glare. Before he could ask, Carson snapped, "You could have bloody well got her last name, after sleeping with her!"

John gaped, and noticed everyone else doing the same thing.

Still furious, Carson pointed his finger at John. "While I'm grateful I didn't get the ears, you bloody well owe my mum 18 years' back child support." He stormed off.

"That explains the hair," Radek said, and the others just nodded.


"This is not funny," John said, folding his arms and glaring at his lovers.

Carson and Rodney were laughing so hard they were leaning on each other for support. Carson had tears running down his cheeks, and Rodney sounded like he was going to start coughing.

John waited another moment, then glared. "I mean it."

"But...it's *perfect*," Rodney gasped, waving his hand at the laptop where John had found the file.

Carson nodded, but didn't try to speak.

"I would *never* do anything like that," John repeated, though he was pretty sure he'd lost the argument the moment he'd first said 'Hey, Rodney, can I kiss you?'

"Yes, yes," Rodney said in a completely patronising tone.

"And it's not like you to ever sleep around," Carson asked, finally catching his breath.

"I don't!" John snapped, no longer amused. "I don't cheat on you guys."

"We know," Carson said, gulping air and calming down enough to give him a serious look.

"Because you just bring them home," Rodney said, and he pointed at Carson -- then gestured at Radek, who was sitting beside the laptop, still beaming smugly.

"I don't--" John stopped, scowled, and went back to glaring. When no one seemed to notice, he said, "All I said was do you care if Ronon comes over for dinner. You don't have to make up *stories*."

Carson stood up, and walked over. He patted John's cheek, then gave him a light kiss. "We think he'll make a fine addition."

"It's just *dinner*," John insisted.

"Yes, dear," Rodney said, managing to sound long-suffering. As though *he* wasn't the one who'd wanted to invite Carson in, in the first place. Even if he'd nagged John into doing the actual asking.

John gave Radek a dirty look, tempered hastily by the knowledge that Radek would and could do horrible things to his puddle jumper if John pissed him off. "You're going to lose that file, right?"

"Of course," Radek said, innocently.

"I'm going over to Ronon's," John said, storming towards the door. A few hours of peace and quiet would do wonders for his nerves.

Behind him, Rodney called out, "Tell him we want you back by morning, and that you've had all your shots!"