Stargate Atlantis Flashfiction

Title: Into the Lost Continent
Author: _ceci15_
Rating: G
Summary: John Sheppard was used to bizarre. He had to be; he led expeditions into the untamed wilderness of the Atlantis interior. He had escorted archaeologists, anthropologists, botanists, biologists and a plethora of other "ists" since the discovery of the lost continent. Nothing had prepared him for this trip. Nothing could have prepared him for Rodney McKay. He was either going to kill the man - or he was beginning to like him. (This is chapters 1-3)
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay (eventually)
Disclaimer: They aren't mine.
Feedback: Always welcome.




1. Opportunity Knocks

"Hello! Hello? Is anyone here?" A loud, strident voice penetrated to the back room where John Sheppard, owner and operator of Pegasus Expeditions (experienced guided trips into the exotic Atlantis interior) was taking a nap in the afternoon heat.

John stumbled from his cot and made his way to the office, hands rubbing at bleary eyes. He was tired, hung-over and not in the mood for clients - but business had been slow and expenses were mounting. He straightened up, running a quick hand through his hair, and wrapped himself in the legendary Sheppard charm.

"Afternoon," he drawled. "How can I help you?"

The man across the counter, apparently immune to the legendary Sheppard charm, glared at him with disdain. "Oh, how kind of you to attend to us! I do hope we aren’t disturbing your nap with anything important, like say, business?" This was clearly the owner of the strident voice. A woman behind him reached up to take his arm, but he shook her off impatiently and continued, "If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, perhaps you can run off and find your boss for us."

John bit back his immediate response. He did need their business, after all. He decided playing dumb would probably be more annoying without costing him the job. "My boss?"

"Try to stay with me here, difficult as it may be." Condescension dripped from the man’s voice. "Your boss. John Sheppard? Owner and operator? Ring any bells?"

"That would be me. John Sheppard, at your service." John smirked at the man's horrified expression.

The woman moved forward, "Mr. Sheppard, my name is Elizabeth Weir. We’d like to hire you to take us into Atlantis." She was cool as a cucumber, this one.

"Elizabeth, are you crazy?" her partner yelled. "Look at this place! Look at him! There has to be a better way."

"Rodney, there is no other way," the woman said calmly. "You did the research yourself. He's the best chance we have."

"We are so dead," the man muttered.

John, sensing the deal could be slipping, decided to step in. "Listen," he said sincerely, "I know this place doesn't look like much, hell, I don't look like much, but I know what I'm doing. I have a good team, and nobody has more experience with the interior.'

Elizabeth looked at Rodney. He sighed and nodded. “Good,” she said. “I need to gather some the others before we make plans. Shall we meet back her in an hour?”

2. The Best Laid Plans

Rodney McKay had a bad feeling about this expedition. Of course, he told himself, he had a bad feeling about most things. He couldn’t help it if he usually was right. John Sheppard hadn’t looked anything like the crisp professional Rodney expected. In fact, the man had looked hung-over and downright disreputable. All his research showed Sheppard had the best record for getting people into and out of the interior successfully with little or no loss of life. Rodney prayed they just hadn’t seen the man at his best.

When they returned the ramshackle office was still bare and dusty, but the table had been cleaned off and a number of chairs added. Sheppard wasn’t in view; they were met by a hulking mass of muscles and hair who indicated in monosyllables that they should have a seat. As the man passed out bottles of cold water from a cooler, Sheppard arrived.

Sheppard had obviously used his hour to clean up. He had showered, shaved, and changed his clothes. Rodney looked the guide over carefully, surprised at the difference. Now that Sheppard looked less like a bum, Rodney noticed his body was thin, but well-muscled under his black t-shirt. His hazel eyes were clear and alert, and his mouth was set in a smirk.

Rodney noticed Sheppard watching him watching Sheppard and he blushed. “Just trying to figure out what type of man we’re trusting with our lives,” he snapped defensively. Sheppard just smiled and continued to the table. The hulking man and a woman who seemed to appear from nowhere joined them.

Elizabeth began introductions. “My name, for those I haven’t met, is Elizabeth Weir. I’m a historian. My associates are Dr. Rodney McKay, Dr. Radek Zelenka, Dr. Carson Beckett, M.D., and Aiden Ford, leader of our security detail.” She paused, nodding at Sheppard.

“I’m John Sheppard, owner of Pegasus Expeditions. These are my associates, Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex. Between the three of us, we know more about the interior than any other group of people you’ll meet. I’m not bragging - just stating facts. Listen to us and you stand a better chance of getting back alive. Now, just where is it that you want to go?”

Elizabeth nodded at Rodney and he took over. He pulled a rough map of the continent out of his briefcase. “Although we can’t pinpoint an exact location, we’ve been able to determine that our goal is somewhere around here.” He pointed to an area near the center of the continent.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Sheppard exclaimed. “Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

“Yes, because I am oh so obviously the kidding type.” Rodney didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “This is where we need to go. We’ve narrowed it down as far as we can. It should be easier to be more precise once we get closer.”

“Good luck.” Sheppard’s voice was flat. “I’ll light a candle for you.”

“You won’t take us?” Rodney challenged.

“No. Nobody else will either. No one has made it that far into the interior and come out alive.”

Ronon spoke up for the first time. “That’s well inside Wraith territory. They aren’t known for welcoming strangers.”

“Oh please,” Rodney sneered, “The Wraith are probably just a myth. If they exist at all, their reputation has been blown all out of proportion. There’s no such thing as the boogeyman.”

Ronon’s voice dropped until they had to strain to hear him. “They exist, all right. I spent two years trying to find my way out of the interior after my plane went down. Seven of us survived the crash, and I was the only on who made it out alive. The Wraith are pure evil.”

Rodney snorted. “I believe in science, not superstition. Yes, Atlantis is something of a mystery; but just because we can’t explain the energy waves that keep us from studying it doesn’t mean there isn’t a rational explanation for everything. If we make this trip, I believe we will find the answers.”

“God save me from fools and scientists,” Sheppard muttered. “You’re looking for Atlantia!”

3. The Power of Persuasion

John looked at the others at the table. Teyla and Ronon were looking at him in disbelief, Weir and her scientists looked shocked, Ford looked suspicious, but McKay - McKay was watching him with frank appraisal.

“It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” John told them. “I’m just not sure who you represent.”

“You don’t need to know who we represent,” Ford’s voice was icy.

“No, I don’t, Mr. - or would that be Lieutenant or Captain Ford, because I have no intention of guiding you on this fool’s errand. If you want to rush off to your deaths, don’t let me stop you. Just don’t expect me to join you.”

“Please, Mr. Sheppard. We are willing to pay well above your normal price,” Elizabeth said.

John shook his head. They just didn’t get it. “Lady, there isn’t that much money in the world.” He stood up. “It was nice almost doing business with you.”

“Just a moment, Colonel Sheppard.” McKay didn’t raise his voice, but everybody froze. “I’d like to look over these documents with you.” He pulled a thick yellow envelope out of his briefcase. Perhaps we could speak privately.”

John felt his hands clench as he struggled with his urge to take a swing at McKay. “That’s Mr. Sheppard to you, Doctor McKay. What documents?” He could only think one reason for the envelope. “Do you think you can blackmail me into helping you?”

McKay snorted. “Paranoid, much? I just want to lay out a simple business proposition and show you how it’s to your benefit. Unless you’re so frightened of the whole thing you can’t hear me out.”

John sighed and sat back down. The others moved from the table, leaving McKay and him the illusion of privacy. McKay pulled out copies of John’s bank statements showing his nearly nonexistent balance. He had information on John’s debts, many of which were past due. McKay saved the worst for last; he had copies of the letter informing John of the imminent repossession of his cherished plane unless account amounts in arrears (and penalties, of course) were paid in the next 30 days.

John had always fiercely protected his privacy. McKay’s casual examination of his finances left him feeling violated and incredibly angry. He had moved past wanting to hit McKay and was seriously considering how much trouble he’d be in if he shot him which is why he almost missed McKay’s offer.

“Unfortunately, it appears you are the only one who can get us where we want to go. To that end, we’ll pay off your debts - to include the plane - in full and provide one million dollars, cash for you to divide between you and your associates. The payment on your debts will be immediate. You will receive half of the cash up front, the other half to be paid on our return.”

John wanted to laugh in McKay’s face. What good would the money do him and his team if they were dead? It was his plane that stopped him. John’s plane was his pride and joy - a WWII era Grumman HU-16 Albatross that sucked up every drop of money he made. He barely scraped together payments on her and still owed over $200,000. How far would he go to own her free and clear? Cursing himself for a fool, John stood and held out his hand.

“Doctor McKay, you have a deal.”