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John-Rodney sad

mific in stargateficrec

The Atlantis Project series (by Seperis) (E)

Show: SGA

Rec Category: John Sheppard (roadtrips)
Characters: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, various SGA characters
Categories: slash
Warnings: Mexico City should in my view have a warning for "major character death" as that's strongly implied at the end. Also, Ronon and Teyla are bad guys in this, just so's you know. It's an older fic where asterisks are used to denote italics.
Author on LJ: seperis
Author's Website: See the AO3
Link: The Atlantis Project on AO3

Why This Must Be Read: This is a non-Stargate AU, and it has lot of roadtrippy parts, but isn't wholly about the roadtrips of course. There are four stories, with Arizona setting up the premise and main plot - that McKay's a scientist whose life's at risk because of a potentially world-changing invention which Powerful Forces want to suppress, and John's the operative sent to extract him, protect him, and get him to safety out of the USA (but who is he really working for?). Cue an escape-type roadtrip down through the southern USA and into Mexico. It's full of good stuff - mistrust, paranoia, attempted assassination, last minute escapes, a love affair between John and Rodney, and extremely hot sex. The second story Borderlands, is basically a sex-scene out-take. Then there's more traveling and plot (and sex) in the third story Puerto Vallarta, and the fourth story Mexico City wraps up the plot. I found the ending satisfying because I can bear MCs dying in a good cause, but that's just me. You could always read the first three and skip the last one. As with much of Seperis's work, the stories pack a somewhat dark and edgy punch, and they're very well-written and engaging.

The coffee is terrible. It could be easily improved by, say, vodka. "I--" No one knows about the Atlantis project outside that small group in Colorado. Which means that--oh, God. "You're government, aren't you?" He's not going to die. He's going to be taken *into custody*. Rodney's hands clench around his cup.

John rolls his eyes, picking up his second cup of coffee. Too much cream and sugar, in Rodney's opinion, the little white packets forming a tiny paper drift between them like snow. "They don't actually want you dead. They'd prefer it, but that's just because they're still clinging to the hope your second--Kavan something?--can recreate your work."

Rodney takes another long drink. Vodka, yes. Or cyanide, maybe. "You're taking me in, aren't you?" Nevada has the right labs in the bases. Hell, if there's one thing that Rodney's learned, it's that everywhere has bases.

For some reason, his hands start to shake, and he carefully sets the coffee cup down before John can see it. There are a lot of ways to get information that don't involve threatening someone's life. He can probably stand up to a gun. But he's not so sure he can stand up to the things that aren't guns.

"I'm not government, so no. Just a for-hire." John gazes at him steadily over his cup of coffee. "And I didn't take this job for the money."


"I won't give you the access codes. Or my notes. Or--" Well, he can *take them*, why the hell else would he wait? There's no way anyone but Rodney could get into his laptop. He should have destroyed the information there, too. Hindsight. Fuck. "Not anything." He doesn't think his voice is shaking, but then, he can barely hear himself over the roar in his ears.

John cocks his head. "There are a lot of countries, and a lot of people, who would pay top dollar for what you know."

Rodney forces his hands flat on the table. "Trust me, I know." God, does he know. "You--you have to know what this could do, if you know what the Atlantis project is. If it fell into the wrong hands. If it fell into any hands."

"Once something's been discovered," John says slowly, almost gently, "it can't be undone. Someone's going to figure out how to recreate your work."

"Only if they have enough to rebuild with. And they don't." He'd wiped every computer, disassembled everything he could find, burned whatever would burn before leaving. Sometimes, he wonders if they'll ever be able to rebuild the Cheyenne base. "And John--I can call you John, right, not *idiot*?--they don't have anyone even *close* to my level of expertise." He stops, taking a breath. His mouth is almost painfully dry. "What are you going to do?"


Oops, sorry, link is fixed now in the rec.
Stargate by Medie

January 2018



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