Rating: PG-15 at most
Pairing: John Sheppard/Cameron Mitchell
Prompt: Mitchell on Atlantis, teasing, fear of bugs
Word Count: 1,426
Author's Note: Huge thanks tohealingmirth for her awesome and quick beta. I'm mostly a gen writer, so this is a toe in slash.
John Sheppard was sort of hoping it wouldn’t work. Mostly because he secretly kind of liked the way
Also, he anticipated a trillion and one fights over who would get to fly the Jumpers after this.
Sheppard got a message in his e-mail inbox on the ATA-gene subject the same day
It was a little odd to open his inbox and not see Cam’s name in there a dozen times before scrolling down, even if it was also great since it meant Cam was at the moment taking a shower in Sheppard’s bathroom.
Sheppard read all of them – even though the sender was less than ten feet away – aware it probably made him an enormous dork.
He was about to click on the last one, when he realized that the date said it had been sent just prior to the departure of the Daedalus from the Milky Way and that Cam’s name was under the subject line, not sender. Sheppard paused, curious, then clicked it open. That was about the time
“I got an e-mail about you,” Sheppard said, over his shoulder.
“Dr. Daniel Jackson.”
“I haven’t read it yet,” Sheppard said. He frowned at the screen. “It’s really long.”
“Hmm,” Sheppard said. “This dissertation seems to be about why giving you the ATA gene is a very bad idea.”
It was sort of hard to concentrate on the boring and not naked at all text with Cam standing right there like that, but Sheppard figured this was probably an opportunity to tease Cam that wasn’t going to come up again. If the ATA therapy actually didn’t work, he knew
“He says you…touch things? Specifically things that tend to activate particularly unpleasant Ancient devices?”
“Jackass,” Cameron muttered. “He’s the one that stuck his head in a…did I tell you about that?”
“No,” Sheppard said.
Sheppard took his time opening the reply application.
“I dunno,” he said. “
“A couple of times,” Cameron concurred. “Oh oh oh, I’m gonna put that, too. ‘Cause I’ve never died.”
“Appreciate that,” Sheppard said, sincerely. Then, he grinned slyly. “But I gotta take into account all aspects, and he thinks you shouldn’t get the gene. He Ascended, that’s kind of like an Ancient…”
His hands busy on the keyboard,
The computer lost all interest for Sheppard. He smacked Cameron’s fingers away, deleted the rant, and typed his own reply:
P.S. I’ll take good care of him.
Then he hit send.
“You forgot the ‘crazy-girlfriend-no-room-to-talk’ point.”
Sheppard said nothing, just smoothly relieved the man of his towel.
The ATA-gene took.
Of course it did.
Cameron was gleefully happy about it, too, doing all the things every new ATA gene bearer did. Namely, that meant turning on and off every Ancient device he came near. This was why they generally made new crew wait, because every so often someone did something incredibly stupid like try to mentally launch the city. But Sheppard promised Keller that he’d be around to quickly undo it if Cameron did anything like that.
Evidently, Sheppard was the only advocate for the buddy system for new crew. That very same day, one of the new entomologists was left on her lonesome in the bug lab and managed to break something that was very, very important.
Well, he felt that way until McKay told him the escaped insects were none other that Iratus bugs.
Sheppard might have gotten a little upset, then.
“Why the hell do we even have those things in the city?” he yelled at McKay over the intercom.
Seated on the floor of the transporter beside Sheppard, Cameron tilted his head curiously.
“To study,” McKay retorted, totally inadequately. “Why do you think?”
“But –” Sheppard began.
“Gotta go,” McKay said, voice abruptly high-pitched.
“What’s going on?”
“Iratus bugs,” Sheppard said. “On the loose. Some of the science geeks decided it’d be a bright idea to have direct Wraith ancestors on Atlantis. They didn’t run that one by me.”
Sheppard scowled. “Yeah.”
“Not so much,” Sheppard muttered.
“They’re just bugs,”
“Yeah,” Sheppard admitted. He patted his thigh-holster, wishing he had his P-90, too. He also wished the totally stupid and pointless as well as imaginary tickling would stop creeping up his spine.
“There cameras in here?”
Not the question Sheppard had been expecting. “No,” he said.
“I think you need a distraction,” he said.
Sheppard blinked at him, as his belt was summarily unbuckled. He sat up from the wall so
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Cameron said. He looked Sheppard in the eyes. “I can take good care of you, too,” he said, and leaned forward.