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Alien Connections

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Previously in the Synn/Kellum Saga

And now

Title: Alien Connections
Pairing: Sam Synn(Joe Flanigan in Ferocious Planet)/David Kellum (David Hewlett in Scanners II)
Rating: Nc-17
work count:2500
beta: mischief5 mistakes=mine

Summary: In a universe where travel to other dimensions is possible, Colonel Sam Synn convinces a reluctant David Kellum to work with him again.

Alien Connections

"Ready for another adventure, blue eyes?" Sam asked.

Oh crap – he'd forgotten how skittish Kellum was. One look at the man's pale face was enough for Sam to know he'd blown it. Palms out in a sign of peace, Sam softened his voice. "Relax, buddy, you don't have to …

Too late, he was already at the door. Jeeze, the man could move as quiet and quick as a greased cat when spooked. Kellum paused. He stared back at Sam, wild-eyed, fingers clenched on the doorframe and shaking with adrenaline.

The hot intimacy of the last few days was gone as though it never existed. Damn it. Before Sam could open his mouth to say another word, Kellum was out the door.

Okay then, Sam blew out a sigh, that hadn't gone well. He could go running after him. David wouldn't be that hard to find. Probably. Then again, that first time had been a fluke, something in Synn's own perceptions making it possible for him to find David Kellum when no one else could.

Deciding to go with what he knew, Sam pulled out the frying pan and set on the stove. He had a plan. He just hoped it worked or he'd be tramping his way through the small animal hospitals and shelters trying to hunt Kellum down. Again.

He opened the apartment door to let the smell of bacon and fresh brewed coffee waft down the hallway. It took five minutes or so, but it worked. He smiled to himself as David peeked around the door. Avoiding direct eye contact with his skittish partner, Sam gave a careful nod at the table full of food. "Be a shame to let all that go to waste."

"Okay," David said, softly.

That one word answer was music to Sam's ears.

Funny how his strange new housemate made living this in this dimension seem real – realer anyway, to Sam. He'd always figured getting trapped on this look-alike Earth was just bad luck.

Granted, he was hardly the poster boy for self-reflection. That he could find in the bottom of a whiskey bottle if he wanted it badly enough. Something, he was surprised to realize, he hadn't even thought about since finding this man and seeing exactly what a Scanner could do.

It should have given him the willies but instead it brought out every protective instinct Sam owned. Oh, hell, even putting a simple meal on the table, knowing his new friend would eat every bite left a curl of warmth in Sam's belly.

After a few minutes, Sam chanced a looked up from his plate. David was chasing the last few crumbs of toast down with the broad pad of his thumb. He watched, mouth going dry, as David put his thumb to his mouth and sucked off every crumb.

"There's work?" David asked, finally raising his eyes to meet Sam's.

Trying to shake the image out of his mind of what exactly what else he'd like David to suck, Sam answered, "Um, what?"

"You mentioned an adventure, remember?" David's blue eyes sparkled and Sam found himself grinning back.

"Well, you know how it is. The hours are lousy and the pay is …lousy."

"So, pretty much like last time?"

"Yep." Sam leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Oh, yeah, D's eyes held a definite sparkle when he smiled. Damn, if that didn't change the man's whole face and make Sam want to sink to his knees and suck him down all over again.

He didn't know what his own face looked like but David must have noticed something in it because his eyes slid away from Sam's and the tips of his ears turned pink. Sam bit back a smirk, delighted to see that David wasn't as unaffected by their recent sexual encounters as he'd pretended.

Sam drew in a sharp breath as sensation washed over him. He gripped the edge of the table, riding it out with a low moan.

"I would if you want," David began, before turning even pinker. "It doesn't have to be – I mean – you can have my mouth, if you want."

"Do you want that?" Sam gasped in a hoarse whisper. He fumbled at his pants, relived when cool air hit his heated cock.

"I do, I think. I've never touched…like that, just…just with my mind before. Sometimes, when I needed money to eat…"


David froze.

"I don't mean stop, just don't talk about…" He didn't know how to finish that sentence. Don't tell me about anybody else you've been with, that used you, because I might have to hunt them down and hurt them. Sam grabbed his pants with one hand and motioned David to the couch with the other. "C'mon, we might as well get comfortable."

David's eyes changed focus. It still looked weird but his hands were hot against Sam's skin, sliding up under his shirt to push it out of the way. They landed on the couch in a tangle of limbs.

The man wore too many layers. Sam growled in frustration as he wrestled David's second shirt open. Finally. Skin. Deliciously warm, smooth skin. David's hot breath panted against Sam's cheek and Sam turned his head, seeking out David's mouth. His bottom lip crushed against the softness of David's own and Sam suddenly wanted very much to see that beautiful mouth red and kiss-bruised. He made himself stop and pulled back long enough to ask, "Is this okay?"

David just looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

He was also, Sam noted, not kiss-bruised enough. Not by a long shot. With a little more effort, Sam finally got his hands on David's naked chest. Smooth, broad, and with a delicate curl of treasure trail that Sam planned to lick and nip the length of after his hands got their fill of touch.

"No scars," Sam said, awed, and not for the first time, at the unblemished canvas of David's skin.

"Not there. And nothing compared to yours." David's lips brushed against the old bullet wound in Sam's shoulder.

Sam knew it was an ugly scar; the bullet had to be dug out in the field. Quick and dirty and with a bottle of rotgut that served as both antiseptic and anesthesia.

Dipping his head lower, David kissed a gentle trail along the five-inch white line of last year's knife wound. "Does it hurt?"

"Hasn't hurt for a long time, not that you should stop."

"Hmmm," David tugged Sam's pants off. "Oh my. You're – that's bigger than I remembered."

"You don't have to. I mean it. You can use that mental voodoo thing instead if you…"

"Shut up. I'm concentrating here."

Sam felt pressure, a nudge changing to solid, vibrating thrusts against his prostate. "Jesus. Fuck." His hips arched and Sam's cockhead slid into David's waiting mouth.

Things whited out. Angels danced in gold behind his eyelids and David's mouth was pure hot, wet, sin. Somewhere in Sam's brain was the thought he should reciprocate but his ass really really didn't care about that right now.

Sam drew in a raspy lungful of air, ready to beg for release but David was ahead of him, drawing him into his mouth, swallowing tightly around Sam's cock as he pushed, harder, wider, deeper until Sam felt split open. He groaned, reaching for David, trying to pull him closer, lost in the mad rush of his orgasm.

He didn't bother to try to open his eyes, but he could feel the wet mess on his belly. "Ugh." Sam tried one more time for coherency. "That's not all from me, cowboy."

"Cowboy? That's a new one."

"Snicker away, Kellum. I'm man enough to admit when I've been ridden hard and put away wet."

"You're right though, that's not all from you." David's voice grew softer, "I know how to take care of myself."

"Jesus, you practice that on yourself…of course you do." Sam's cock twitched trying to come back to life. It was a lost cause but Sam couldn't deny that the idea of watching David do that himself was going on his top-ten fantasy list.

Still collapsed on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, Sam could feel the nervous shifting next to him. He moved just enough to toss David a blanket. "Go ahead, ask me before curiosity burns a hole in your brain."

"Where does Dr. O'Hara want us to go this time?"

"Say what you really mean, cowboy. You wanna know what the good doctor and his crew of geeks have screwed up this time." He lifted his arm long enough to see the ironic curve of smile before collapsing back in a boneless heap.

"Should be easy stuff for a change. Simple in and out recon of as many dimensions as we can hit in the next couple of weeks. The doc only wants us to hang around long enough for the science boys to plant a beacon. Then we get out and move to the next one."

"Beacons?" David asked.

"More of a tracking device, I guess." Sam sat up and stretched, pushing out his chest more than strictly necessary and taking a moment to appreciate the way David's eyes followed the movement. "If I understand it right, O'Hara thinks we can tag individual dimensions as they slide against this one. He's hoping to find out if the dimensions move in cycles."

"How is that possible? David asked.

"It's a new setting on the machinery that doc got from those aliens we saved. Works off some interdimensional frequency. Don't ask me about the theory behind it; that part's way over my head."

Sam frowned at the tense lines of unease showing on David's face. "Relax, buddy. This trip we're glorified babysitters. The scientists will do the work and we make sure nothing bothers them."

"Sam, if the dimensions do move in cycles, yours might show up again. You could go home."

"Maybe. Yeah."

David gave him a rueful smile. "Known you less than a week and already you're already breaking up the band."

"A band of tramps from what I can tell," Sam grinned, "with a little thievery thrown in. He reached up, cupped his hand around the back of David's neck, and pulled him close. He pressed a soft kiss to David's temple. "Not giving this up. Maybe," he continued, "you should think more about what it could mean for you. On my world, no one knows anything about scanners."


Well, this was turning out to be a cock-up and a half. Sam would give these good ol' boys the finger, if he didn't currently have his hands tied behind him to a pole. At least his distraction worked, after a fashion. The natives seemed so happy at capturing Sam, they gave up the hunt for the rest of his team.

Didn't make things any less urgent. The last time Sam had seen them, Benson was holed up in a cave, a spear through his thigh, while the two other scientists did what they could to administer first aid. At least, they were better at it than they would have been a year ago, before Sam made first aid courses mandatory.

It wouldn't be enough. Benson was going to be in a bad way if they didn't get him to a hospital ASAP.

This planet was the last in a series. O'Hara had insisted they do just one more despite the fact it was nearly nightfall. Sam had a few choice words for Dr. O'Hara if they ever got out of this.

He pulled at the bindings. It hadn't worked the first fifty times either. Fuck. He let his head thunk against the pole and closed his eyes.



"Don't talk. I don't want you to draw attention. Just listen to my thoughts. I have a plan to get you out of here but you're going to have to trust me."

Sam tried to form a picture in his mind of the chieftain with a big question mark over his head. David's answering chuckle in his mind was a relief.

"Just think normal thoughts and don't block me."

"What happened? I thought we were getting along with the chieftain just fine and dandy. Next minute he's got his guards trussing me up like a pig. Can you," he jerked his head in the chief's direction, "scan him and at least find out what we did wrong?"

"I've been trying."

Sam could sense David's frustration woven through his next thought.

"Could be almost anything. Their mental imagery is – strange. I'm picking up the feeling we insulted the night sky somehow. It's as if they see the stars as a holy language not physical objects. Sorry, I can't get a clearer reading than that."

Star words, huh. Pity I forgot to pack that dictionary. Damn I've got an itch on my nose. I hate when that happens." Sam could feel David's smile. "Did you just scratch my itch?"

Shh. I'm close. I have a plan but you have to trust me.

Sam sent a strong affirmation along their mental link. Every instinct he had told him he could trust David Kellum with his life.

He had reason to clutch that thought tight to his sanity when a giant boa constrictor came into view. It was huge. By Sam's measure, the creature's head was the size of a man's torso. He couldn't even see where the tail ended.

The light from the fire pit danced over the reptile's scales making it gleam in shades of red and gold. It rose, hissing, coiling as if to strike. The natives, every one, dropped their spears and fled. Sam couldn't blame them. He'd like to do a little fleeing himself right now.

"Hold still." David's breath was in his ear and Sam held his breath as David cut him free. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Sam rubbed his sore wrists and nodded toward the snake. "That's a hell of a distraction. You, um, can control it, right?"

"I can nudge it in the general direction."

"Well, nudge it somewhere far away from here."

David helped Sam to his feet and they watched as the snake slithered away into the shadows.


Sam sat across the desk from O'Hara, the mission folder laid open between them. This was a formality and Sam knew it. What counted to Sam was that they'd gotten back safe and sane and in time to save Benson's leg.

"I know you think I'm a stickler for details, Synn," O'Hara began, "but I shouldn't have to remind you – if this project is successful, it could lead to your ticket home. Could you elaborate a bit more on – 'Rescued by a big snake'? And who the hell is Betty?"

"You're reading the report wrong doc. Betty is the snake."

O'Hara put his glasses on and looked at the report again. "Ah. I see. Why Betty?"

Sam shrugged. "She looked like a Betty."

O'Hara raised an eyebrow in question.

"Old girlfriend," Sam answered. "Pretty and dangerous."

"You live a strange life, Colonel Synn," O'Hara, said. "And, apparently, you have an even stranger dating life."

Sam leaned back in his chair and smiled.