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The Watcher Verse

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Antarctica Base - Daytime


John wandered. General O'Neill had left him to his own devices, after giving him security clearance for being on the base and telling him not to touch anything. John didn't understand why the security clearance was necessary, but he wasn't going to argue with the General. All he could see as he looked around were boxes full of odd shaped bits and pieces, people scurrying around with clipboards etc, all looking intensely busy, to the low buzz of computers. Other than the excess of civilians this didn't seem any different from other bases he'd been sent to. The only things unusual about the place were the odd carvings on the walls and John was amusing himself by following them. To John they looked art deco but, hell, what did he know. They seemed to be very strongly defined around the entrance to a room, through which he could hear what he thought, might be a Scottish accent.

He looked quickly around to make sure nobody was going to challenge his right to enter the room and then slipped inside. The room was lined with the blue grey carvings and symbols and in the middle of the room stood a large chair. It looked, to John, to be made of some sort of stone or marble and it had silver inserts in it. As John stepped into the room the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. By the chair stood a man dressed all in blue. His hair was dark and he was unshaven and it was clear from the way he was speaking to the man and woman with him that he was excited about something. From his accent John deduced he was the man he'd heard from the corridor.

John stood and listened.

"The second I shut my eyes, I could see you see. I felt power I've never had before. I had it dancing across the sky…it was magical, it really was. They're lucky, I don't know where it came from I just tried to concentrate and the drone shut itself down." He chuckled. As John listened he realised that the man was talking about the missile that had attacked General O'Neill and himself. He stepped forward.

"So you were the one," he said.

The man turned towards him in surprise. "Me?" He said.

"You were the one who fired that thing at me." John watched as the man blanched and swallowed.

"Look we're doing research. Working with technology that's light-years beyond us and we make mistakes. I'm incredibly, incredibly sorry," he apologised.

"Well, next time just be a little more careful, ok?" John told him.

Carson nodded. "That's what I said."

"What the heck was that thing anyway?" John asked.

"You mean the drone?" he answered. John nodded. "It's the weapon the ancients built to defend this outpost."

John stared at him. He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "The who?"

Carson looked concerned. "You do have security clearance to be here?"

"Yeah, yeah, General O'Neill just gave it to me." John smiled at him but it didn't seem to help and the man still looked perturbed. "Then you don't even know about the Stargate?" he asked John.

"The what?"

"The Stargate. It's what the Ancients used to travel between worlds." Carson said.

John looked at him nervously. He wasn't sure whether or not the man was sincere or if he was just insane. If he was, what the hell was he doing playing with missiles or drones or whatever they were called? What were they doing on this base? He took a step back.

"No need to be worried lad. I'm not pulling your leg. Just ask General O'Neill, he'll tell you everything you need to know." He held out his hand to shake. "By the way I'm Dr Carson Beckett."

John looked at it gingerly before shaking it. "Major John Sheppard". He gestured towards the chair. "Okay, so how do you power this?"

"Well I discovered that some people have what we call the Ancient's Gene. We think the gene was used as a sort of genetic key if you will. So that only their kind could operate certain dangerous and powerful technologies."

"So some people have the same gene as these Ancients?" John asked. He wasn't sure he believed a word of it but the guy seemed to be pretty genuine. He prodded the chair cautiously and when it did nothing he walked around it looking at it more closely.

Carson pursued his lips. "Well, the specific gene is very rare, but on the whole they look very much like we do. In fact they were first through the second evolution of this form. The ancients having explored this Galaxy for millions of years before.

John moved to sit in the chair and Carson stepped towards him, arm outstretched. "Major please don't."

"Come on what are the odds of me having the same genes as these guys?" John sat and the chair immediately lit up with blue light. It tilted back and John lay there, too shocked to move.

Carson stared at the chair and it's occupant in disbelief. "Quite slim actually," he said dryly. "Dr Weir!!" his voice rose and he moved towards the door. He looked back at John. "Don't move."

John sat as still as he possibly could as he watched Carson rush out of the room. He'd already done enough he felt. Best to just sit here until somebody came along to switch this thing off.

Carson returned a few moments later. He was followed by General O'Neill, a thin dark haired woman and two other men, one in an orange fleece of all things. As they entered the room they all stood and stared at John. John fidgeted slightly and tried to look anywhere but at them. The woman turned to General O'Neill.

"Who is this?" she asked.

The General disregarded her and looked directly at John. "Major, I said don't touch anything."

John swallowed. The last thing he needed was another black mark against him. "I.I.I just sat down."

The General said nothing, simply threw him a look. The chunky man in the orange fleece stepped towards John. "Major think about where we are in the solar system," he said. John closed his eyes and concentrated. Hearing gasps he opened his eyes and looked up. Above his head appeared a map of stars and planets.

John looked over at them. "Did I do that?" John asked carefully. The woman smiled at him. "Yes you did."


Antarctica - Evening

Golden. That's what he'd been. Sitting in the energised chair and watching the map of the solar system above him with his head thrown back, John Sheppard had looked surprised and exulted. Rodney wondered if he'd look like that after an orgasm. He wanted to know how Major John Sheppard would like at that particularly vulnerable moment. He wanted to be able to savour it, for the memory to be locked away, to be taken out later and gloated over. Rodney closed his eyes and continued to stroke his cock, his own orgasm getting steadily closer. He saw him in his mind's eye. Major John Sheppard, tall, lean and golden. Oh, not in colouring of course, but the feel of him, the energy of him, the way he shone. Rodney wanted it, wanted to make it his own. He'd known it in that instance of seeing him in the chair. He wanted him under him, writhing as Rodney fucked him hard. Rodney wanted the Major tied and begging for freedom, both from his bonds and from the control that Rodney had over his sexual release. He wanted him marked clearly as his. Rodney's breath stuttered and his hand sped faster, stroking himself harder into an orgasm, until he came, shuddering, it almost painful in it's intensity as he gasped out the Major's name.

He hadn't seen anybody that he wanted so much in a long while. He'd tried to temper his appetites, certainly after that unfortunate incident in Siberia but he found them coming alive again at the sight of the Air Force Major.

He had of course spoken to Dr Weir after the Major had left the chair and had managed to persuade her to ask the Major to work on the project with them. If they were able to go to Atlantis Rodney wanted the Major there as well, where he could see him, watch him and if possible lock him away, only to be taken out and polished until he was all gleaming and shiny.

It made sense of course for the Major to work with them. He clearly had the strongest gene of anybody tested so far and Elizabeth thankfully had recognised this. Rodney carefully wiped his hands on some tissue and smiled. Not the crooked half smile that he allowed people to see, but a soft, dark, secretive smile; the sort of smile that would make people back away if they were graced with it.

He knew he would have to be careful though. He'd seen the quick calculating look that Carson had thrown his way and knew he'd been caught staring at the Major. Carson knew some of Rodney's appetites; he didn't share most of them but they had enough in common for the pair of them to have an occasional interesting evening watching illegal films that Rodney had downloaded from the web.

Rodney went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off fully. He smiled as he thought of the Major again. At some point the Major would be his, his to do with as he liked, how he liked, when he liked. All it would need would be some planning.