Buzz - SGA

Buzz

By Stealth Dragon

Disclaimer – Of course Stargate Atlantis isn't mine, nor is Mountain Dew of which I don't drink. But I do love them Hostess cupcakes.

Synopsis: Sheppard has had a little too much to drink, and eat. Sugar highs are sweet. Hey, there's even a little whump involved. Just can't say no to whump. Set in season two. No spoilers, so there.

SGA

Quiet. Too quiet. Was that a good thing? Weir wanted to say it was. Silence afforded a more suitable environment for finishing work, and she would have loved to have taken advantage of it if silence hadn't been given such a bum rap lately. Silence before the storm, before an attack. Too much had given it a bad reputation. So even though she used the silence, it did nothing in easing her nerves.

At least she was alert enough to read over mundane mission reports. Not that she didn't mind the mundane, it's just that they tended to all read the same.

Made contact, negotiated, traded, all went well, the end. One after the other. But better the mundane than – wraiths attacked, so and so hurt, blood, near death, barely made it, and so on.

She was four reports away from being finished. After that, her plans involved a little purposely constructed quiet time of her own with a book and a cup of something warm. The rest of Atlantis was being kept busy with either finishing up some tidbit of work, or attending another movie night. She had heard treats had been made readily available, something she planned on checking out since no one had put an exact name to those treats. Hopefully, it involved something sweet. She was tired of salty popcorn and potato chips.

She set down the now finished report she'd been perusing, and yelped, nearly jumping out of her seat.

Sheppard was standing before her, glassy-eyed, grinning, leg twitching, holding a green can in his hand. Elizabeth let out a sharp breath of relief, placing her hand on her chest as though covering her heart would slow it.

“ Colonel! You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing here? And what're you holding? Is that beer?”

John lifted the can, twisting his wrist so she could read the label. She looked at it, then at him, cocking an eyebrow.

“ Mountain Dew?”

“ Yup, freshly delivered straight from earth whole liters six packs cartons I'm surprised no one brought a keg of it but it's not the only soda just the one I went for...”

Elizabeth held up her hand to stop the one-hundred mile per hour babbling. She gave John another once over. He was still all smiles, but his leg wouldn't stop jerking, and his fingers kept drumming on the can.

“ Colonel? Are you all right?”

John jerked his head in a nod. “ Yep, couldn't be better in fact I feel great and thought I'd stop by to give you a little something,” he set what looked to be a package of Hostess cupcakes on the table, all while still rambling, “ because they were going really fast and I mean really fast you should see how many Ronon ate but I didn't let him eat them all and thought I should bring you one before they were gone...”

Again, Elizabeth had to raise a hand to get him to stop. “ Um, yeah, thanks.”

John took a swig from the can, then dove into another single-breath monologue. “ So what're you doing here I thought you'd be down with the rest of us watching Hitchhiker's Guide unless you don't like that movie but I don't think if you ever said so great book very funny especially the part about how Zephod's ego's the size of the universe kind of like McKay if you think about it...”

Elizabeth, rubbing her forehead with the tips of two fingers, sighed. “ John. John? John!”

“ ... and the dolphins what?”

“ John, are you sure you're all right.”

John lifted the hand holding the can that sloshed. “ Great why?”

Elizabeth shook her head, paranoid that anything she said would get him going on another rant. “ Nothing. Just... I have some work to finish. Maybe I'll drop by. Oh, and thanks for the cupcakes.”

John's smile seemed to have become a permanent fixture on his face. “ Sure so...”

“ Bye John.” Elizabeth picked up a file, ending the conversation before it could gain momentum.

SGA

There were days when McKay hated technology. As much as he relied on his precious laptop, there were times when that laptop decided to become a petulant child and refuse to express any love. In other words, work properly.

The program Rodney used to calculate various quantum formulas was showing signs of its age by acting out of date. It kept trying to correct what he typed in, or calculated according to one set of rules and not the rules Rodney was going for. It was also obnoxiously slow, taking minutes rather than seconds.

It was time for a new program.

Rodney hit the enter key rapidly. “ Come on you piece of...”

“ Hey Rodney.”

Rodney jumped, and barely caught the laptop in time when it tried to slip from his lap. He swiveled around on his stool to face Sheppard wearing an idiotic grin and rocking back and forth on his heels.

Glaring, Rodney snapped, “ What!”

John shrugged, and took a sip from his Mountain Dew can. He then tossed Rodney an oatmeal cream cooking wrapped in transparent plastic.

“ Nothing just thought I'd stop by and drop off a treat before they were all gone 'cause they're really going fast and it doesn't seem fair that not everyone should have one so I'm making sure equal shares all around and crap like that so what are you doing in here working when it's movie night and we got Hitchhiker's Guide going and a Star Wars marathon afterwards since they brought in Episode Three which rocks by the way and you can probably do what ever you're doing tomorrow...”

Rodney stared at John as though he had vanished to be replaced by a three-eyed green alien speaking in a garbled, foreign tongue. Then, finally, Rodney could take no more.

“ Colonel. Hey Colonel!”

“ ... Yoda kicks butt what?”

Rodney slouched. “ Don't you have some place better to be?”

John shrugged and took a drink of Dew. “ I was gonna head back to the movie after I made the deliveries but thought I might convince you to join us but if you're busy then I guess I could just leave unless you're working on something interesting you might need my help with unless you don't...”

“ Not really!” Rodney snapped.

John, unphased, shrugged. “ Okay. You sure? Because I'd love something to do right now since I feel all restless and can't just sit around I need to do something I mean I feel great I should act on it so I need something to do...”

Rodney growled. “ Colonel, I'm fine, now go away.”

“ Okay but you're missing out on all the fun Ronon keeps picking everyone up to see how high he can lift them off the floor he tried to do it to me but I got away except I think I pulled a muscle because my side kind of hurts but not that bad and I need to avoid Ronon since he's pretty set on seeing if he can pick me up speaking of which you'd better watch out for him because I heard someone bet that he couldn't sneak up on you and grab you from behind...”

At that, Rodney paled. “ W-what? H-He doesn't know where I am, does he?”

“ No! Not at all in fact he's too bent on trying to find me I think I lost him or he went back to the movie and beside I think he'll forget once more popcorn is done since he eats that stuff more than the cupcakes but you know what they say about salt and sweet the one always makes you want the other and don't worry I won't tell Ronon where you are not that it matters since you're always here...”

Rodney's laptop made a strange beep like a noise of impatience. He set it on the table behind him and stood to herd John from the lab with pokes and shoves. “ Great, thanks, you're a pal. Now will you please leave? I'd really like to finish this.”

“ What? And after I brought you a cookie? Fine be that way see if I care maybe I will tell Ronon where to find you but I won't since I'd rather be the better man Ow!”

Rodney reared back with his hands shooting into the air. “ What!”

John rubbed his side. “ That hurt McKay!”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “ Oh, go whine about it to Carson, I'm busy.” He place both hands on both of John's shoulders and shoved him out the door.

“ That's it I'm telling Ronon where to find you...!” The door blessedly cut John off by sliding shut.

Rodney turned. “ Whatever.” Only to pause and turn back in a sudden rise of unease. He tapped his chin, then pointed at the door. “ Think I'll lock that.”

SGA

John kept rubbing his side as he traipsed down the corridor, finishing off the last of the Dew. He was craving another cupcake, and wanted to be at the part of the movie where Trillian finds the POV gun. The slight ache in his side was akin to the aftermath of a muscle cramp, and massaging it did nothing to relieve it, only aggravate it. Chances were, his struggling had resulted in a pulled or even torn muscle, but it was his own fault for trying to prove that Ronon's grip wasn't iron clad. Pride played a small part, plus the look of frustration on Ronon's face when John had slipped from his crushing bear hug had been hilarious. He'd actually looked alarmed, as though such a thing had never been done before. It paid to be wiry.

John was approaching the movie room only to slow on seeing his supposed 'attacker', aka Ronon, leaning against the wall just outside the door with his back to Sheppard, talking to a female scientist who seemed unable to stop giggling shyly.

Who knew the man could be a smooth talker? Then again, he'd seen some of the younger women giggle and swoon just because Ronon grunted.

But here was presented the perfect opportunity for a little payback. Grinning like a devil, John set his can on the floor, then slowly crept up behind Ronon in a crouch. He put his finger to his lips when the young woman's eyes flicked his way. Finally, when he was close enough, he leaped onto Ronon's back, wrapping his arms around the big man's neck and his legs around his waist.

“ Hi honey, you miss me?”

Ronon, still leaning against the wall, sighed and shook his head.

“ Foolish move, Sheppard,” he said. He then pushed off from the wall and grappled behind himself, trying to get a hold of John. John clung to Ronon with the tenacity of a starving tick as Ronon spun around, arched, bent forward, and gripped the shoulder of John's shirt to try and flip him over.

“ That's enough, get off me,” Ronon growled.

“ No,” John replied. The woman started laughing hysterically, and several people stepped from the room to observe the commotion. Laughter reverberated through the hall, coupled with whoops and shouts.

“ Ride that bull, sir!” Someone called.

“ Eight seconds!”

“ Come on, Ronon. Don't tell me you can't toss his scrawny butt!”

John made a mental note to seek out whoever had said that and show them just how un-scrawny he was.

Ronon stopped spinning and grappling. He folded his arms across his chest, then turned to step back and press John up against the wall. Ronon began leaning back. John grimaced at having the curve of his spine digging into the solid metal walls. Then he gasped when Ronon's broad back pressed into John, increasing little by little, squashing John's ribcage so that it had less room to expand for the sake of his lungs.

“ A-all r-right... G-Give...” he rasped, and released his hold on Ronon, dropping to the floor on his feet and sucking in lungfuls when Ronon stepped away.

The big man raised his arms, grinning triumphantly. John glared and pointed a shaking finger at him.

“ That was foul play,” he said.

“ No,” Ronon growled, approaching John like a panther stalking a deer. “ This is.” He grabbed John by the shoulders, spun him around, wrapped his heavily muscled arms around John's slender waist, and lifted him up high off his feet.

“ Whoa!” John gasped. Everyone shouted, laughed, and cheered with applause. John slipped, just a little, so that Ronon's crushing hold was around his chest. John gasped when the ache on his left side became a more intolerable pain.

Finally, Ronon set John down. The runner lifted his arms in another bout of triumph, and people gathered around him, patting his back.

John, panting, clutched his side that was still hurting. But he clamped his jaw shut and forced a smile when people surrounded him to administer a few pats on his own back.

“ You all right Colonel?” Zelenka asked. John, somehow managing to keep the smile plastered to his face, nodded.

“ That was awesome,” a young soldier said.

“ We need to get Ronon on a sugar high more often,” said another.

Everyone began milling back into the room, laughing, talking, and bursting into hilarity when the movie hit a funny moment. Movie night, the night when the people of Atlantis became relaxed to the point where nothing else mattered but the here an now. It was the one night when it was okay – almost like an unspoken law even – not to worry. The one night to act like a kid and not receive withering stares for it, to play pranks and actually get laughs for the trouble. It was the night where words like wraith and Genii were never spoken unless as part of the punchline to some joke.

It was a night that was the flip-side to everyday reality, since nothing about reality said it always had to be unpleasant.

John watched the people - his suboordinates, his charges – fill the room, handing out more sodas and more snacks. Someone tossed John a package of cupcakes, and he caught them, only to drop when his side burned.

His side was really, really, really hurting. He quietly approached the room so as not to draw attention to himself, and threw the package of cupcakes at the back of Carson's head, who was engaged in a deep conversation with one of his nurses. He flinched at the assault and whirled around while irritably rubbing the back of his head.

“ Who the bloody hell threw that!” he snapped, looking around, pausing on seeing Sheppard waving him over. Sighing, the Scot weaved through the bodies packing the room and stepped from the darkened interior into the lighted hall. He gave John a heavy-lidded glare.

“ You be needin' my attention John or are you just tryin' to insight another food fight?”

John, swallowing hard, took Carson's arm and pulled him aside. It was in that moment that John's attempt at holding back a visual testament to his pain failed. Carson's features softened.

“ You all right lad?” Carson asked.

“ Um, no not really because my side was kind of hurting and now it's killing me and it's getting really uncomfortable and I think I might have pulled something...”

Carson, grimacing at the speed at which John was capable of talking, held up his hand. “ Slow down lad. Come on, to the infirmary with you! Gaw, you'd think I could have one night away from that place and without you in it...”

John looked sheepishly to the floor.

SGA

John's eyes were still glued in the downward position while he sat on the bed, keeping his shirt lifted as Carson studied the bruise that had developed on John's left side. Beckett probed the area with his fingers, which incited pain and a hiss of inhalation from John.

“ Sorry,” Carson said. “ How's you're breathin'? Does it hurt?”

“ A little.”

“ But you can breath all right? No pressure, no increase of pain?”

“ Nope.”

Carson nodded. “ Could be a torn muscle like you said, or a cracked rib. I'll X-ray to make sure.”

“ I'm sorry Carson,” John said, flicking his eyes in the direction of the doctor, but Beckett's attention was still on the bruise.

“ For what?”

“ For having to come here.”

Carson leaned to one side to one side, eying John's face oddly. Again came another softening of expression.

“ You all right, lad? You look a little down.”

John, lowering his shirt, lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “ I don't know its just this is the one night for some real fun and I blow it for the both of us because I get hurt I mean I'm not even on a freakin' mission and I still get hurt and force you down here for a butt-load of stupid X-rays because I couldn't resist getting back at Ronon who got me anyways and you should be back in that room drinking what's left of the sodas flirting with that nurse and not down here with me because bad luck thinks I'm hot or something...! what are you doing?”

Carson had brought his stethoscope to his ears and lifted John's shirt to place the listening end on his chest. Carson's eyes went round as dinner plates, and he looked up at John as though John had just said something foul in front of Carson's mother.

“ Bloody hell lad! Just how many of those sodas did you have?”

John arched an eyebrow quizzically. “ About three.”

“ And cupcakes?”

“ Three, plus an oatmeal cream some M&Ms a snickers a few Twizzlers a Pixie Stick...”

“ Well that bloody explains it. Your heart's beatin' fast as the heart of a rabbit!”

“ Huh?”

Carson took the stethoscope from his ears and placed them in John's ears while keeping the listening end to his chest. John flinched in alarm at hearing the psychotically rapid muffled thump of his own heart. Being made aware of the sound, he also became aware of the feel of it within his own chest, and he squirmed in discomfort.

“ Is that bad should I worry I mean I don't think it's ever done that before because it's not like its pounding just going really fast...”

Carson placed a hand on John's shoulder, removing the stethoscope from the Colonel's chest, then his ears.

“ It's all right, lad. It's just a massive sugar rush, you'll be fine. Though I doubt you'll be sleepin' too well tonight. I may need to prescribe you a few relaxants after the rush wears off... well, you and half of Atlantis.”

“ Oh,” John said breathlessly.

Carson, smirking, shook his head. “ You know, I'd never thought I'd say this, but you really can't hold your Mountain Dew, Colonel.”

John grinned. “ Me 'n Ronon both speaking of which I think he needs to lay off the sugar.”

“ Aye, the lad's too strong for his own good sometimes. Are you goin' to tell him about this?”

John shook his head. “ It'd only ruin his night and it doesn't matter since it was an accident and mostly my fault and we were just playing around though maybe we should warn him to be more careful...”

Carson patted John's shoulder. “ John, pay attention. X-rays, bind ribs, then back to the fun. What say you?”

John, swinging his legs like the kid he was pretty much acting like, smiled. “ My kind of plan, doc, since we need to sic Ronon on Rodney at least just to scare the hell out of him and teach him not to work so hard...”

Carson sighed. “ Just lay off the Mountain Dew.”

John winked. “ Will do, doc, will do.”

(Yeah, right).