Pegasus Family Robinson

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Title: Pegasus Family Robinson
Rating: PG
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex, Evan Lorne
Word Count: 8371
Categories: adventure, drama, comedy, team as family
Spoilers: Set in S5, sometime after “The Shrine” (5.6); spoilers for the series through that episode.
Warnings: none
Summary: Rodney and the team visit a planet and get stuck there temporarily due to a partially submerged Gate and a missing DHD.


They stepped through the Gate and directly into knee-deep seawater.

From where Rodney stood, as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but dark blue ocean. There was no sign of the peach-sand beaches the initial MALP survey had shown, and for a second he wondered if they’d somehow misdialed, or been redirected mid-transit. Then he turned to look back at the Gate and spotted the familiar outline of the same hills that had been visible in the survey.

Hills that were a fair distance away, and separated from them by a wide expanse of water. Closer to the hills, he could just see the tops of trees poking out of the water. The only visible land nearby was just behind the Gate, a circle of that peach sand that would have fit neatly inside the Gate with room to spare.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Rodney said in disbelief. He could feel his feet sinking into the sand beneath them; the suction pulled at his boots as he moved. “What the hell?”

He turned back around just in time to see Teyla—who had gone through the Gate first, and was a couple of meters ahead of him—take a step and drop chest deep into the water. Ronon, who was closest, reflexively grabbed her by the arm before she could go completely under and lifted her back onto what was apparently a sandbar in front of the Gate.

“You okay?” Ronon asked her.

“I am fine,” she replied, squeezing her shirt in an attempt to wring some of the water out of it. “The land just dropped away beneath my feet.” She waved a hand to where she had almost disappeared below the waves.

“No kidding.”

“C’mon,” Sheppard urged, waving them toward the little island in the Gate’s shadow. “We need to get out of the water.”

Sheppard got to island first and managed to clamber up onto it, fighting the quicksand of its sloping sides until he able to get a purchase on the more solid top. He helped Ronon up next, and then the two of them got Teyla and Rodney out of the water. Standing on it, the island seemed even smaller than it had first appeared. Sheppard took stock of them all, cast a longing glance at the distant shoreline, and sighed.

“Well, here we are again.”

His voice was dry, and Rodney wished he could say the same for his socks.

“Yes, again, and doesn’t that just sum things up for us,” he snapped, glaring at the water for good measure.

“Rodney, correct me if I am wrong, but it did not appear to me that this planet’s Gate was close enough to the water that we would find it submerged in such a way by the normal movements of the tide.” Teyla gestured around them with one hand.

“No, you’re not wrong. And it wouldn’t have made sense for the Ancients to have placed a Gate somewhere that would be flooded twice a day.” He frowned in thought. “If this planet has day-night tidal cycles like Earth, that is. But then again, tidal forces can change over the thousands of years that most likely exist between when the Ancients first put this Stargate here and when we so smartly decided to visit it.” He was only slightly bitter.

“I don’t think even the biggest natural shift in tides could cause flooding that far inland,” Sheppard argued, pointing toward the land in the distance. “I think something else happened.”

“And what would you suggest led to us being marooned, hmm?”

“I don’t know, Rodney,” Sheppard countered, his tone growing irritated, “maybe there was a really bad storm, or—or a tidal wave.”

“Well that settles it. If either one of those things is what happened, then we need to get out of here right now.”

“And why is that?”

Rodney flung an arm out to encompass the endless ocean at his back. “Because those kind of events often happen in multiples. Like, let’s say it was a tidal wave. And let’s say it was caused by an underwater earthquake, those happen all the time on Earth. There’s almost always aftershocks that can create additional waves after the first. And while this lovely little tropical paradise is above water right now, I doubt it would survive a thirty foot high wall of water crashing down on it.”

“Alright, I get it, calm down.” Sheppard held up his hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, we don’t even know if any of that’s the case. I mean, this is only just a slightly higher point of land, right?” He waved a hand at their feet. “I doubt it miraculously went untouched by a violent storm or a tidal wave that covered the rest of the area in several feet of water. So it’s more likely that this was a gradual flooding event.”

“And it could still be happening, and this ‘higher point of land’ could well be on its way underwater!”

“Maybe. If that winds up being the case, then we’ll head for the shore. But in the meantime we should stay put, close to the Gate.” He looked around and then paused. “Where’s the DHD?”

There was enough concern in his tone that Rodney whipped around—at least as best he could in the space he had—and started frantically scanning the immediate area as if there would be some kind of marker above the water to signal the DHD’s location. The DHD was always on the active side of the Gate, or at the very least right beside it, which meant—

“It was over there.” Ronon was pointing out toward the ocean, in the direction where Teyla had nearly disappeared beneath the waves.

“Great, that’s just great.”

“It might not be that far down. Maybe one of us could dive to it?” Teyla suggested.

“I’ll go.”

Ronon was already unbuckling his holster, but Sheppard stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No, I’ll go.”

“Why’s it gotta be you? I can swim.”

“It’s just—I should go, this kind of stuff is on me.”

“Why?”

“Ronon—”

The decision was made by the sound of a splash. While Sheppard and Ronon had been debating, Teyla had stripped off her boots, socks, vest, and gun and jumped back down onto the sandbar in front of the Gate. As she waded through the water toward the drop off, Sheppard moved forward as though to go after her.

“Teyla, what are you doing?”

“I am already wet from falling in,” she replied, as if it were obvious. “It makes sense that I go.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Are you doubting my ability to swim, John?” she asked him with an arched eyebrow.

“No, of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

Sheppard looked to Rodney as though for support, but there was no way Rodney was taking sides in this argument. Ronon must have felt the same, or maybe he supported Teyla, because when Sheppard glanced his way, he just stared back with a bland expression.

“No—nothing.” Sheppard admitted defeat. “Just, hang on.”

He did follow after her then, toeing off his own boots and peeling off his socks. He removed his gun and holster, setting them down in the sand, then he lowered himself onto the sandbar. As came to stand with her, Teyla gave him a questioning look.

“You need a spotter,” he explained.

She nodded, mollified. “Very well. Rodney, I recall the DHD being in this general area,” she said, pointing off to what was the left of the Gate from his position behind it. “Is that your recollection as well?”

“Uh, yeah, it was about two meters to the side of the Gate and roughly three away from it.”

Teyla nodded and inched forward on the sandbar, using her feet to locate the edge. Once she had it, she followed it to its furthest point from the Gate. She tossed a look back at them over her shoulder, then pushed off into the water. She swam out a ways before turning back to face the Gate, orienting herself.

“About here, do you think?

“Yeah, that looks right,” Rodney called back.

Teyla continued to tread water for another minute or so, and Rodney could see that she was taking long, slow breaths. Finally, she took in a deep breath and dived, her feet momentarily appearing above the surface. Then she was gone.

Rodney could feel his anxiety grow the longer she stayed under. He was a poor swimmer and was always amazed at people who could swim in open water. Or who could hold their breath for long periods of time. His lungs didn’t listen that well. Beside him, Ronon appeared relaxed, but on the sandbar, Sheppard seemed to be as anxious as Rodney was. He was poised at the drop off, watching the spot where Teyla had vanished with an almost unblinking gaze.

After what felt like ages, Rodney spotted bubbles rising to the surface and, a few seconds after that, Teyla’s head appeared. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, panting slightly.

“I swam down as far as I could before I had to turn back. I could only see a foot or two in front of me, but I did not see any signs of the bottom, nor the DHD.”

“How far down do you think you went?” Sheppard asked.

“I am not sure. The drop off from where you are seems to be at quite a sharp angle.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Rodney told them, annoyance and resignation in his tone. “If Teyla didn’t run into the bottom within, say, eight feet, the DHD is gone.”

“You’re sure about that?” Ronon asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. The MALP showed that this beach sloped very gently down to the shoreline.” Rodney held up his hand up, palm down and with his fingers slightly tilted downward, to demonstrate. “Even with the water level two feet high at the Gate, the DHD should have still been reachable. The fact that is wasn’t means it’s not there anymore.”

“Okay, Teyla, come back in. I don’t want to find out what’s in this ocean by using you as bait.”

There was tension lacing Sheppard’s voice, and Rodney suddenly understood why he’d argued to be the one to go in the water. Sheppard never liked putting any of the rest of them in danger if he could take it on himself. If it were anyone else, Rodney would have scoffed at the hero-complex flavor of it all. But he knew that for Sheppard, the urge to bear the danger was the byproduct of some messed up combination of guilt and self-loathing, not any desire for the spotlight. Sheppard hated the spotlight.

Teyla had gotten back to the sandbar and Sheppard helped pull her up onto it before they returned to the island. Ronon grabbed Sheppard’s hands to haul him up top, while Rodney did the same for Teyla, who was dripping seawater everywhere. As soon as she was back on dry land, she grabbed her hair in one hand, twisting it to wring the water from it.

She glanced around at them and made a circling motion with one finger. “Could you…?”

Rodney was confused by her vague request for a second, but then saw Sheppard and Ronon obligingly turning their backs. They had all gotten comfortable seeing each other’s bodies over the years; it happened often enough. Any awkwardness they might have had about it had been lost somewhere between the time they’d been forced to partake in a traditional sauna together for the sake of diplomatic relations, and the time they’d been stuck for over a week in what had wound up being an alien version of a honeymoon suite. When the bathroom doesn’t have walls, you either get really comfortable with each other really quickly, or homicides ensue.

Despite the fact that they’d all seen each other in various states of undress more times than strictly necessary, they still extended the courtesy of privacy when they could. So Rodney followed Sheppard and Ronon’s lead and turned to face away from Teyla as well. A minute later they could all hear the splash of more water hitting the ground, this time from Teyla’s shirt. After a few more minutes of rustling, she called the all clear and they turned around again. She was still very damp, but was at least dripping less, and she’d braided her hair back out of her face.

“What do we do now?” Ronon asked.

“We’re just going to have to wait for Atlantis to dial in once we’re overdue,” Sheppard replied. “They’ll send a jumper, and we can use the DHD on board it to dial out.”

Rodney stared at him. “We aren’t due back for another four hours.”

“So, we pass the time. A day at the beach, right?”

For a few moments, they all just stood there on their tiny island sanctuary, looking back and forth at each other. Then Sheppard sighed.

“Okay, so first things first, we can’t stand for four hours, so let’s find a way to all sit down without falling back in the ocean.”

That might’ve been easier said than done, but they managed it. After a couple of poorly thought out attempts at them all all sitting down of their own volition and nearly knocking each other back into the water in the process, they realized the lack of space meant they would need to coordinate their movements. So they had Ronon, the largest of them all by far, sit down first. He folded himself up in his quarter of the circle, facing the away from the Gate at an angle.

Next, Rodney plopped down with his back to Ronon, the bag still on his back fitting into the space between them. He shifted around a bit, trying out a few different leg positions, before Sheppard’s terse “McKay” stopped him. He settled for sitting cross-legged, then held up a hand for Teyla to use for balance as she gracefully lowered herself to sit on his right. Using his shoulder as a brace, Sheppard then sat on Rodney’s left.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, sitting there on their little island. The sun was warm and the sea breeze cool, and if they hadn’t been trapped in the middle of an unknown ocean, it might have even been nice. Rodney wished he liked the beach more.

“Ronon, will you help me?”

Rodney twisted to his right to see that Teyla was holding her canteen out to Ronon. He saw Ronon take it and then he and Teyla moved to half-face each other. There was the sound of the canteen top being unscrewed, then the faint sound of water being poured. Teyla was turned away from him, but Rodney could tell from the motions she was making that she was using some of her water to rinse off her face and hands. He didn’t blame her; he could already feel his legs starting to itch from the saltwater, and he’d only been in up to his knees.

He wiggled his toes and cringed as he heard as much as felt the squish of water in his socks. He groaned and, taking care not to knock into any of his teammates more than was unavoidable, shifted so that he was sitting with his legs in front of him, knees bent to keep his feet from being in the water. Then he began prying off a boot.

“McKay, what are you doing?”

“There is water pooled in my boots, Colonel. If we have to sit here for four hours, I’m not going to do it in wet shoes. That’s just asking to lose a toe or two.” He yanked at his sock with a bit more fervor than necessary, and it popped off his foot like a released rubber band. He managed to turn his head enough just in time so that it caught him on the neck instead of in the face. “Oh, nice. Insult to injury. Thank you,” he muttered.

“Good idea.”

Rodney could feel some slight nudging against his back that indicated Ronon was working to take off his own boots.

“I have them from time to time.”

Rodney finished freeing his other foot, then eased up onto his knees so that he could wring his socks out over the water. Then he titled his boots over the languid waves lapping at the edges of their island and watched the water pour out of them.

“Unbelievable,” he mumbled under his breath.

He settled back into his spot, legs crossed again, and set his boots in front of him with his socks laid out at their sides. Between the salt and the sand he didn’t relish having to eventually put them back on, but at least they might be able to dry a bit. He’d placed them near the water’s edge but out of its reach, both to give himself as much space as he could and to use them as markers so that he could tell if the water started rising.

It probably would. He glowered at the horizon.

“Why does the water keep trying to kill me?”

He felt more than heard Sheppard’s huff. “Water tries to kill everyone, McKay, you aren’t special.”

Rodney twisted around to stare at him, incredulous. “I’m sorry, who almost drowned in a torrential downpour while being held at Genii gunpoint? Who almost got swallowed up with Atlantis by an enormous wall of water? Who was trapped at the bottom of the ocean in a puddle jumper?”

“I was in the same storm as you, Rodney. And I volunteered to go to the bottom of that same ocean to save you.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for the ocean to try to crush me in its jaws.” He was being petulant and he knew it. He started scratching a formula in the sand by his thigh. “And thank you,” he added in a more grateful tone.

“You’re welcome.”

“We will be fine, Rodney.” Teyla’s voice was patient as ever, and she laid a comforting hand on his arm. “It is only a bit of water. Even if we wind up needing to swim to shore, the sea is calm.”

"Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. And despite the fact that we evolved from it, are made of it, and come from a planet covered by it, we don’t survive well in water. Especially salt water. We can't even drink it. We just get pruny and die.” His tone had gotten a little whiny there at the end, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t a great swimmer.

“We are not gonna die. We barely even got wet. Except Teyla. And we have this nice patch of dry ground to wait on.”

“The tiniest patch of dry land ever.”

“That still happens to be dry so we’re gonna be grateful.”

“Is there nothing that you can do while we wait, Rodney?” Teyla inquired. “We came here to explore this planet; are there no readings you could take or tests you could run from where we are?”

He had a barbed response on the tip of his tongue, but bit it back when he saw Teyla’s expression. He could tell she was trying to take his mind off of things—all the many, water-involved things—and he appreciated the effort even if the results were mixed. So his tone was only slightly aggrieved when he answered.

“We were supposed to be exploring back there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder to the distant land. “But I guess I could check a few things.”

He reached behind him to pull his tablet sleeve free from its Velcro, but found that it was a lot harder to do while sitting down. He fumbled for a bit before he heard Teyla sigh.

“Let me,” she said, fluidly turning around and rising up onto her knees. She unzipped the top of the sleeve, pulled out the tablet, and handed it to Rodney before sitting back down.

“Thanks.”

“You are welcome.”

Rodney woke the tablet and began scrolling through the programs he’d installed on it. There was only so much information he could glean from where they were, but he had to admit that fiddling around with what he could was better than sitting there doing nothing at all. He lost himself for a while taking readings of the things he was able to measure: air temperature and basic composition, water temperature and basic composition, solar radiation. He was just beginning to get worried about sunburn when Teyla’s voice distracted him from his distractions.

“There appears to be something moving in the water.”

“What?!” Rodney heart jumped in his throat. He shifted as best he could in the limited space, pivoting toward Teyla to see where she was looking. His movement jostled Sheppard, who let out a sound of protest that Rodney ignored. “What is it, can you see what it is?”

“Maybe it’s a whale,” came Sheppard’s sarcastic response.

“Don’t—do not even joke about that. How can you joke about that?”

“I thought you liked whales now,” Ronon rumbled, nudging Rodney in the back with his elbow.

“Yeah, what about Sam?”

Rodney scanned the foam-capped waves around him and tried not to picture a giant whale emerging from them to beach itself directly on their little island. “I may have cultivated a special bond with the whale that saved my life but that goodwill does not extend to the rest of the Cetacea in the universe.”

“Whales can’t eat you, Rodney,” Sheppard said, sounding both weary and amused.

“They don’t need to.” Rodney felt himself starting to panic. He was still scanning the water, looking for any sign of movement. “They can accidentally hit you with their tail and kill you on impact. Or they can ram the boat you’re in and send you to the bottom. A sperm whale can produce a sound so loud that it can literally vibrate you to death!”

There was a stunned silence following his proclamation.

“Hell of a way to go,” Ronon said blandly.

“I mean, there aren’t any recorded instances of that actually happening,” Rodney quickly added, “but they’ve been recorded producing sounds as loud as 230 decibels, which would be more than enough to do it.”

“Well, we aren’t in the water, so if there are any whales here, we should be fine.” Sheppard sounded almost relieved by the idea.

“Yeah, until we decide we do have to swim for the shore, at which point it’s open season,” Rodney countered.

“You’ll just have to make some new friends, McKay.”

Rodney groaned and dropped his face in his hands. “We are so going to die.”

“Stop it, Rodney,” Teyla reprimanded him. “We are going to be fine.”

“You do recall the last time we got trapped by water,” Rodney retorted.

Once again his mouth somehow outran his brain and he regretted the words even as he said them. He felt Sheppard go rigid against his side where their arms were touching. Beside him Teyla was unusually still, even for her, and Ronon might have fallen off the island for all the movement Rodney could sense from him. He quickly backtracked.

“You’re right, we’re gonna be fine, ignore me.”

After the fact, none of them had really talked about his sickness. There had been plenty of almost-conversations, plenty of spoken and unspoken feelings right after the impromptu surgery and his recovery from it. But once it was clear that he was back to normal and everything was going to be fine, they’d all reverted to their typical behavior.

They didn’t talk about how they’d all ignored the symptoms. They didn’t talk about watching him lose himself. They didn’t talk about the fact that they’d risked death by going to a Wraith controlled planet just so that they could say goodbye.

This was the first time any of them had referenced what happened, even obliquely, and of course he’d had to be the one to do it. For once, he didn’t know what to say next.

“You die on me again, McKay, and I’ll shoot you.”

Ronon’s voice was low, his tone more sincere threat than not, but it managed to break the tension in the air. Sheppard relaxed and Rodney could sense Teyla turning to look at him. He let out a short laugh.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

“In the meantime, did you learn anything new with that thing?” Sheppard asked, nodding his head toward the tablet that lay forgotten in Rodney’s lap.

“Only that the air is breathable, the water isn’t drinkable, and I am definitely going to get sunburned.”

“So nothing new?”

“No.”

Shadows suddenly passed over them and Rodney instinctively flinched, momentarily picturing his death by breaching whale. He cautiously glanced up to see a flock of birds passing overhead on their way toward the land. An odd sound caught his attention, and he found one of the birds perched atop the Gate, staring down at them. It made the same sound again—a call that sounded like the unholy combination of a croak and a whistle—and Rodney heard the retreating flock repeat it.

“There’s a bird,” he said blankly.

“I see it.”

“It appears to be curious.”

“Yeah, it’s curious as to whether we’re edible.”

“It’s barely the size of a piquat, Rodney,” Teyla said dismissively. “It is hardly dangerous.”

“Sheppard, next movie night, we’re watching The Birds.”

“Agreed.”

Rodney looked around in surprise to find Sheppard eyeing the bird with suspicion and distaste, and just the slightest hint of fear.

“Not a fan, Sheppard? I thought you would like anything that could fly.”

“You have your whales, I have my carrion birds.” His voice was flat.

“What are carrion birds?” Ronon asked.

“Meat-eaters,” Rodney answered automatically, studying the bird more closely. He wasn’t an expert in ornithology, but it did look a bit raptor-ish. “They either kill outright or scavenge, but all or most of their diet is meat.”

“We had birds like that on Sateda. Agam birds. Good eating.”

“Of course you ate them.” Rodney rolled his eyes.

“I have encountered such kinds of birds as well, though none that were a danger to people.” Teyla’s voice was thoughtful. “Do such birds attack humans on Earth?”

“Not if they’re alive.”

Rodney studied Sheppard’s face. He could tell that Sheppard was purposefully avoiding his gaze, keeping his eyes focused out on the water instead, but Rodney could still see the haunted look in them. He hadn’t asked about Sheppard’s military service before Atlantis; he hadn’t really cared. What he did know was mostly from stories that Teyla or Ronon had elicited, or the few times Sheppard’s past experiences had directly applied to their missions. But he wasn’t stupid or naïve. He knew Sheppard kept the worst details to himself.

His fear of whales suddenly seemed a little childish. Not unfounded—the things could and would kill him if they got the chance, he was sure—but silly in its unlikelihood. He just had to stay out of the water. Birds could find you.

He startled at the sudden sound of Ronon’s blaster firing. He snapped his gaze back to the Gate in time to see the bird shoot up from its perch in a flurry of feathers and indignant squawks before it sped away toward the rest of its flock. It didn’t appear injured, so Rodney knew Ronon had purposefully aimed to scare it off. Maybe it would go tell all its friends to stay the hell away from them; he didn’t want to see that look in Sheppard’s eyes again.

“No more bird.”

He heard Ronon re-holster his gun.

“For now,” Sheppard muttered.

“How much longer until we’re overdue?”

Sheppard checked his watch. “Two-and-a-half hours.”

“Did anyone bring any food?”

“We were only supposed to be here four hours, McKay.”

“We also weren’t supposed to be trapped on a sandbar, but that’s what happened.”

“Here, Rodney.” Teyla handed him an energy bar. “I packed a few just in case.”

“Teyla, you have always been my favorite,” he told her, tearing open the wrapper.

“I thought I was your favorite,” Sheppard said in mock indignation.

“I just met you first,” Rodney replied around a mouthful.

“What about me?” Ronon asked.

“You are my first pick for any and all activities that require physical exertion.” Rodney frowned at the amused silence that fell, then realized what he’d said. “You know, of the ‘Run, Fight, Shoot’ kind,” he hastily tacked on. “Not the other kind. Not that I’m not sure you’re good at that kind, too. That just isn’t what I was talking about.”

“You sure, McKay?”

Ronon’s voice was teasingly husky, and Rodney almost choked on his next bite. He swallowed, both to make sure he didn’t asphyxiate and to make it easier for him to enunciate.

“Yes, I am sure,” he primly responded.

“Just sayin’.” Ronon sounded fully amused now.

“I’ll add that to the list of things to keep in mind, then.”

Rodney felt Sheppard shift beside him and braced himself for more ribbing, but Sheppard just called over his shoulder to Teyla.

“Hey, can I get one of those bars?”

“Me, too.”

“Of course.”

Teyla pulled two more energy bars out of her vest. She passed one to Ronon and the other to Rodney, who then handed it to Sheppard. He heard Teyla open a bar of her own, and finished his as she took her first bite. Now that he’d eaten something, he realized he was thirsty. Considering they’d all been sitting in direct sun for two hours or so, everyone else probably was, too.

“There’s a canteen in my pack,” he said to no one in particular. “We can share.”

“I got it.”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Ronon turning toward him. He heard the zipper on his pack open and felt Ronon rummaging around inside. Then the canteen appeared at his shoulder, and he took it from Ronon’s hand. Before Ronon could turn away again, he held up his tablet.

“Could you…?”

Ronon replaced the tablet in its sleeve, and Rodney felt the faint tug of that zipper and the main pocket zipper being closed.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Rodney opened the canteen and took a long drink, then passed it to Sheppard who took it with a nod, having just taken a bite of his bar. For a few minutes there was only the whisper of the waves, the crinkling of energy bar wrappers, and the sloshing of water in the canteen.

Rodney’s knees were starting to ache, so he uncrossed his legs and bent them up in front of him instead. He propped his arms on his knees and dug his toes into the sand. The movement made his feet slide forward a bit, down the gentle slope toward the water, and the tip of one of his toes hit his boot, still drying in the sun. He looked at it, and realized that the waterline was a couple of inches below where it had been.

“The water’s receding.” He didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

“See, good news already.”

“We will be home before long.” Teyla gave him a smile as she passed him the canteen.

“And we’ll send the oceanography department back to complete the survey and you’ll never have to come back here, McKay.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Rodney warned.

Sheppard leaned forward to look around Rodney at the Gate. “If this keeps up, we should be able to Gate back as soon as the jumper gets here.”

“Best news I’ve heard all day.”

“Better than Teyla having packed some energy bars?”

“Only because it means we won’t have to survive off of them.”

“I dunno, we could probably catch some fish,” Sheppard said casually, giving the water a speculative glance as if he were considering it.

“Or birds,” Ronon offered. They could still hear the periodic calls of the flock that had flown over them.

“You just want to eat something that eats other things.”

“All things eat other things.”

“You know what I meant.”

The sun was moving into just the right place in the sky to throw the shadow of the Gate over the island. Rodney squinted up at it for a minute, the Gate nothing more than a dark arc against the glow of the sun behind it. Then he scooted forward a little in the sand and, once he estimated he had moved far enough that he wouldn’t hit Ronon, let himself tip back onto his back. His bag provided a somewhat decent cushion, and he closed his eyes, folding his arms over his chest.

“McKay?”

“Mmhmm?”

“What’re you doing?”

Rodney opened one eye and looked up at Sheppard. “I would think that’s obvious. We have another, what, two hours or so left to wait here, so I’m going to take a nap.”

Sheppard stared down at him for a few moments, face expressionless, then nodded. “Okay.”

Rodney closed his eyes, only to open them again when he felt Teyla’s head hit his shoulder. Before he could say anything, he felt his own head being lifted, and then he found it pillowed against Ronon’s side. Sheppard was moving, too, and Rodney turned to watch him slouch down in the sand beside him. His hips were even with Rodney’s rib cage, and he was leaning back against the side of Ronon’s bent legs.

“What is this, daycare?” Rodney mumbled drowsily, without any heat.

“It’s not like there’s much else to do,” Sheppard shrugged. “And there’s only so much space.” He sounded as lethargic as Rodney felt.

“True.”

He could tell by Ronon’s even breathing that he was already asleep; the Satedan could easily pass out as soon as he shut his eyes, a skill he’d no doubt picked up while Running. The gentle rise and fall of his side under Rodney’s head made him feel even sleepier, and before he could protest further, he was out.

He was lost somewhere in a dream that managed to not include any whales when the kawhoosh of the Gate opening dragged him back to consciousness. His radio crackled in his ear, and he heard Woolsey’s voice. He opened his eyes to find Sheppard still slouched against Ronon’s legs, explaining to Woolsey what had happened and asking for a jumper to be sent through.

Twenty minutes later, when Major Lorne arrived with said jumper, they were all up and waiting, boots and socks in hand. Lorne hovered the jumper at one end of the steadily expanding island and lowered the back door onto it like a drawbridge. As the door dropped, he grinned over his shoulder at them from the pilot’s seat.

“Somebody call a cab?”

“I am not tipping you,” Sheppard told him.

Lorne eyed them as they tromped in, barefoot and trailing sand. “Gonna have to charge you extra for the clean up, though,” he deadpanned.

“You can add it to my tab,” Sheppard shot back, moving to take the controls as Lorne shifted to the co-pilot’s chair.

Rodney eyeballed the water level around the Gate before pressing the controls to shut the jumper door. “We probably have a couple more hours before the Gate’s clear of the water,” he advised.

“I guess we’ll wait on the mainland, then,” Sheppard sighed, taking the jumper in that direction.

“See, Rodney, you will get to investigate the mainland after all.” Teyla gave him a smile that was part amusement and part sincerity.

“Oh, joy. Always happy to catalog the details of the planets that have tried to kill me.”

“We barely even got wet, McKay,” Ronon reminded him, before adding as an afterthought, “Except Teyla.”

“So this planet wasn’t very good at trying to kill us. Possible drowning still counts as attempted murder in my book.”

“One day it’ll stick,” Sheppard conspiratorially stage-whispered to Lorne.

“I heard that!”

Ronon snorted, but Major Lorne seemed to momentarily take pity on him.

“Would you like to sit up front so you can tell the colonel where to take us for your tests, Dr. McKay?”

“I—” Rodney was primed to keep arguing, but cut himself off. He was still a bit lethargic from being out in the sun for hours, and he wasn’t above accepting a pity gift when it was offered. “Yes. Yes, I would,” he replied, with as much dignity as he could muster.

He was pretty sure Sheppard and Lorne shared a knowing look, but Lorne vacated the co-pilot’s seat without any further comments. Rodney slid into with a sigh of relief, glad to finally have back support again. Sheppard glanced over at him as he held the jumper at the edge of the mainland, a small smile on his lips.

“Where to, Rodney?”

Rodney studied the new horizon, their height giving him a bird’s eye view at least a few kilometers inland. There had been a few places on the mental list he’d had of potential test sites—including the beach that no longer existed—but he wasn’t particularly interested in any of them at the moment. He thought about the rest of the team, though, and suddenly knew where he wanted to go.

“There,” he said pointing just off to the right of center. “It’s looks like there’s a small waterfall and freshwater river over there.”

“You actually want to go fishing, McKay?”

“No, but I can collect plenty of samples and get all sorts of measurements from that area. And Teyla can rinse off the saltwater from her dip, if she wants.”

He added the last part casually, but Sheppard did a small double-take as he navigated them in the chosen direction.

“Right.”

“I want to rinse off my legs, anyway,” Rodney added. “And my socks. There’s so much sand,” he whined, casting a despondent glance at where he had left his boots and socks in the back of the jumper.

Ronon was standing in the doorway between the cockpit and the back, and as Rodney’s eyes drifted up to his face, he gave Rodney a knowing look. But all he said was, “Makes sense.”

“Thank you, Rodney,” Teyla said quietly from the seat behind him.

Rodney shrugged and turned back to the front of jumper. “It’s just the best place, is all,” he said dismissively.

“Of course it is.”

It turned out it was a gorgeous place, too. Luckily there was a flat, open space at the base of the falls, which the river curled around in a wide loop before disappearing into the jungle. As Sheppard brought them in for a landing, the jumper fell into admiring silence.

The falls themselves weren’t that high, but the water poured over a jutting ledge and then plunged straight down, making it seem more precipitous. The mist rising from the pool below shimmered in the sunlight, rainbows dancing in the droplets. The cliff behind the waterfall was covered in dense, dark green vegetation, speckled here and there with pink and yellow and orange flowers. The river itself was clear and—beyond the pool—only about knee deep. Along its far bank, where the waterfall cliff tapered down to ground level, there were trees in varying shades of green, along with some bushes in muted yellow.

All in all, it looked like something out of a tourist brochure. Once Sheppard was parked, they all moved to the back of the jumper, Ronon hitting the button to open the door. It slowly fell open and they all stepped out, taking in the view with some appreciation.

“Nice,” Sheppard finally said.

“These are my kind of rescue missions,” Lorne agreed. “Call me any time.”

“Yes, yes, it’s beautiful.” Rodney irritably shoved past them, pack hung over one shoulder, and strode toward the river’s edge. “I just want my legs to stop itching.”

“You don’t think there’s crocodiles here, do you?” Lorne casually asked.

Rodney stopped dead a foot from the water, and pivoted his head to look back at the others, who were following him at a more sedate pace. “Crocodiles?”

Lorne shrugged. “Or, y’know, the alien equivalent.”

“It does kind of look like South America,” Sheppard mused.

“How would you know?” Rodney responded accusingly.

Sheppard just gave him a amused stare. “I’ve been there, Rodney.”

“Oh.” Rodney studied the far shore, looking for movement. “What do you think, then?”

Sheppard appeared at his side and stared down at the water. “I dunno; it looks too clear for ambush predators.”

Rodney peered into the water and realized he could make out the bottom very easily. If anything, the rocks scattered on the riverbed seemed slightly magnified by the water above them. He swore he could pick out individual marking on different stones.

“Safe then?”

“Most likely,” Sheppard advised, before stepping into water himself. “A little cooler than I expected, but nice.”

Trusting Sheppard’s instincts, Rodney followed him, wading in up to his knees. He plunged his hands into the water, which was cooler than the surroundings would have led him to expect, and scrubbed a bit at his lower legs. The cool water was soothing to the itchiness the dried salt had left behind, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Closer to the falls, Teyla had swam out into the pool and was similarly ridding herself of the salty layer left behind from her dive to find the DHD. The rest of them kept their distance as she bobbed around. At one point, Rodney saw her swishing something around in the water, and realized she’d actually taken off her shirt and pants to more thoroughly rinse them.

Ronon was working his way further down the river, noisily dragging his feet through the current as he went. Every now and then, he would stop and bend over to pluck something out of the water. Sheppard had finished his own quick rinse and returned to shore. He joined Lorne, who had taken a seat on some nearby rocks and was staring at their surroundings with quiet delight.

“I wish I had my paints,” he said, sighing with desire. “This place is stunning.”

“You draw?” Sheppard asked him. “I’m sure Rodney’s got some paper and pencils tucked away in that pack somewhere.”

Rodney turned to half-heartedly glare at them both, hands on his hips. “Oh, thank you, just give away my supplies without asking first, very nice.”

“It’s okay, Doc. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, it’s fine.” Rodney sighed. “I actually do have a pad and at least two pencils in there and you’re welcome to them if you’ll hand me my tablet.” He didn’t want to get out of the water just yet, and he needed to take samples from the river anyway.

“You sure?”

Lorne seemed reluctant to accept the offer, however much Rodney could see he wanted to. The man’s fingers had literally twitched at the idea of being handed a pencil. While Rodney didn’t understand art, he could understand the drive to create. His fingers twitched the same way when he had an idea and needed a keyboard. So he made a grasping gesture in Lorne’s direction and pushed more impatience into his tone.

“Yes, I’m sure. Just hand me the tablet already, I’ve got measurements to take. Oh, and pass me the sample kit while you’re at it. Not that one,” he said when Lorne pulled out a small blue bag, “the other—yes, that one.”

Rodney moved closer to shore to meet Lorne as he walked to the water’s edge, then took the proffered bag and tablet.

“Pad’s in the inner sleeve inside the main compartment,” he advised as he turned to slosh further back into the river. “I have no idea where the pencils are; you’re just going to have to dig.”

“Thanks, Dr. McKay.”

Rodney was glad his back was still to shore; he couldn’t help but smile at the genuine excitement in Lorne’s voice, and he had a reputation to maintain. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered around the smile.

Since they were stuck there anyway, Rodney was determined to run as many tests and get as many samples as he could. Soon, he was lost in his own world, taking measurements, scooping up water and river soil samples, trudging to the far shore (with many nervous glances about) to snip a few leaves, and compiling an impressive list of shorthand notes. He was dimly aware of the others around him. He knew that Lorne and Sheppard hadn’t moved from their rocks, and that Teyla—having donned her wet clothes—had eventually joined them, laying out on a flat rock close to theirs to dry off in the sun.

It wasn’t until Ronon came splashing back up the river that Rodney came out of his science daze. He had enough data and samples to keep all of the respective research departments happy, and his legs had finally stopped itching. He stretched, twisting back muscles that were starting to ache, and followed Ronon back to shore.

It was late afternoon now, shadows lengthening around them. Lorne was still focused on the pad in his hand, pencil scratching away, eyes flickering up now and again toward whatever scene he was sketching. Sheppard was leaning back on his hands, alternating between admiring the scenery, surreptitiously peeking at Lorne’s drawings, and checking on Teyla, who appeared to be asleep. She was on her back on her rock, knees bent up and one arm over her eyes.

“Found some cool rocks,” Ronon said as he reached them.

He opened his left hand, revealing eight different stones he’d lifted from the riverbed. Arriving at his shoulder, Rodney looked them over. They were all decent sized, and to his untrained eye appeared to be different types. He’d gotten soil samples, but hadn’t thought about collecting the actual stones.

“Those’ll be good for the geology department,” he said. “They can run all sorts of tests on those.”

Ronon immediately closed his hand and protectively pulled it back toward his chest. “Get your own rocks, McKay.”

“Why? What’s wrong with those?”

“They’re mine.”

“Leave Ronon’s rocks alone, Rodney,” Sheppard idly chided him.

“What do you even need them for?” he asked Ronon in exasperation.

Ronon shrugged. “They’re just cool.”

Rodney stared blankly at him for a minute. “Fine. Fine!” He shoved his tablet and the now full sample kit at Sheppard. “Put these back in my pack. I’m going to go get some rocks.”

He huffed his way back to the river, splashing in more aggressively than he intended, soaking his pants up to mid-thigh. He hissed out a curse and bent to collect a handful of stones. He only got five, but figured that was good enough. If the geology department found anything interesting in those, they could come back and get more themselves. He sloshed back to shore, shaking water off each foot as he emerged, and trudged over to deposit the rocks in his bag.

Sheppard squinted at the sky, then checked his watch. “The Gate should be clear by now.”

“Good,” Ronon said. “I’m hungry.”

Just then, Rodney’s stomach growled. Sheppard smirked at him.

“So’s McKay.”

“I was fine until Ronon mentioned it,” Rodney shot back.

Sheppard shook his head before bending over to gently shake Teyla awake. “Time to go.”

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her hair was a little frizzy and haphazard from the saltwater, and she ran a hand over it before stretching and standing up. Her gaze landed on Rodney.

“Did you get everything you wanted to, Rodney?” she kindly asked.

“Mostly, yes.” He shot Ronon a glare. “Even though Ronon wouldn’t share.”

“Now, now, children. Play nice.”

Teyla shot them all a look but, knowing how they typically behaved, didn’t comment. Sheppard turned to Lorne.

“You ready to go, Major?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lorne finished whatever he was scribbling, then flipped the notepad closed. He had a slightly glazed yet energized look Rodney recognized from having seen it in the mirror. Art and science were definitely related drugs, at least in how they affected the user. Lorne looked at the pad in his hand, then at Rodney, hesitating.

“I wasn’t sure if I should just tear out the pages, or—”

“Just keep it,” Rodney told him. “It was a new one anyway, so I didn’t have anything in there yet.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I just said it.”

“Thanks again, Dr. McKay.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced between Lorne and Sheppard, before adding gruffly, “Now is one of you going drive, or am I going to have to fly us home?”

“You will do no such thing,” Sheppard quickly said, picking up Rodney’s pack and shoving it in his chest before striding back toward the jumper.

Rodney smirked to himself. The quickest way to get Sheppard moving was always for Rodney to try to take over control of a jumper. He hooked his pack over his shoulder and brought up the rear of their retreat. It was only once he was back in the jumper, the door shutting behind him, that he spotted his discarded boots and socks. In his haste to get into the water, he’d forgotten to take his socks with him to wash them out. A quick glance showed him that none of the others had pulled their own shoes back on; only Lorne was still shod. So he just dropped his pack onto the back bench and sat down.

A short flight back to the Gate, and they were finally dialing home. The water had actually receded a few feet beyond the Gate, so they probably could have left earlier than they did. But no one mentioned it.

From the co-pilot’s seat, Teyla punched in the address for Atlantis. The wormhole established, their authentication code was sent through, and radio contact was made. Before proceeding through the Gate, Sheppard threw a smile over his shoulder at them.

“That was a nice vacation.”

Rodney’s snort of laughter was lost in sub-space.