Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2021-02-17
Words:
2,862
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
4
Kudos:
12
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
174

Stargate Atlanta: Clean Restrooms

Summary:

"I'm not going to make it," McKay moaned.

Notes:

Pretty much all of my SGA output was just silly. This parody was inspired in 2005 by a prompt in Resonant's journal, imagining "a new show called Stargate: Atlanta, in which they're just stuck in traffic all the time, and you can get a whole ep out of the day the air conditioner breaks." That's...pretty much what happens. Complete crackfic.

Work Text:

~~~

"How far is it now?" Beads of sweat stood out on McKay's forehead. Teyla dabbed at them gently and tried to smile encouragingly.

"We're about two inches closer than we were five minutes ago." John frowned into the rear-view mirror, his hands twisting on the steering wheel.

"I'm not going to make it," McKay moaned.

"You will, Doctor. We will surely be around the obstruction, soon." Teyla glanced out the front windshield, the fire of hope in her eyes flickering with doubt as she looked down the long line of vehicles, stretching out ahead of them further than the eye could follow.

"Don't say 'obstruction,'" McKay moaned, closing his eyes.

"Try taking slow, deep breaths." From the front seat, Ford fanned McKay with a folded newspaper. Sweat trickled, unheeded, down his own neck. The heat was stifling, sweltering, but McKay's need was much greater than his own.

"Dammit!" Sheppard struck the steering wheel once, twice with the heel of his hand, the lines on his face a road map of frustrated self-recrimination. "It should have been me. I should have taken the bran muffin, and let McKay have the donut."

"It was not your fault." Teyla reached forward to grip Sheppard's shoulder, her eyes deep wells of concern. "This construction was not marked."

"And no one knew the coffee was that strong." Ford shook his head. "It's nobody's fault."

McKay writhed and squeezed Teyla's hand tightly. "It's too far to the turn-off." He gasped, then turned to look out the side window, his eyes wide and pain-filled. "I'll have to get out here. You all...go on without me."

"McKay, no!" Sheppard turned in his seat to face him. "Just hang on! We're a team, and we're going to stay a team. We don't leave anyone behind."

McKay gripped Sheppard's headrest. "We're only going two feet per hour--I can make it back."

Ford curled his lip. "Dude, if you crap out there on the shoulder, there's no way you're getting back in this car with us."

Next to McKay, Teyla hesitated, then slowly, reluctantly nodded. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I have to concur." She gestured at the cars surrounding them on all sides. "Surely someone I work with is in one of these vehicles."

McKay stared hopelessly into her eyes; with a sad shake of her head, she dropped her gaze to their joined hands. He swallowed and nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, I know, I'm sorry." He closed his eyes, then shifted uncomfortably in his seat and faced forward, again. "I wasn't thinking. I can do this."

"I know you can, buddy." Sheppard's eyes met McKay's again in the rear-view mirror. The look that passed between them spoke volumes. "I know you can."

Together, they rolled forward another two inches.

~~~

"Not this one. Everything they sell tastes of cigarette smoke," Teyla wrinkled her nose, as though tasting the unpalatable Ho-Hos as she spoke, "and the bathrooms are not clean."

"I really don't care," McKay gasped, staring longingly at the Circle-K as they cruised past.

Teyla eyed him sympathetically, but shook her head. "We cannot forget what is important, even though the situation may be dire. Especially then. It is what makes us human." McKay moaned piteously.

"There's one." Ford leaned forward excitedly, pointing toward a Citgo on the other side of the street.

Teyla brightened. "I know these people well. They are honest traders, and their coffee is always fresh."

"There's no light, here." Rodney shook his head despondently, his lips trembling. "We'll never make a left turn in the middle of the block."

"Their mid-grade is only $1.84." Ford peered up at the back-lit sign, high above them.

"That's good enough for me." Sheppard set his jaw grimly, and his hands went to ten and two on the wheel. "Hold tight, everyone, we're going in."

"Yes, sir." Ford pulled his ball cap lower over his eyes and settled back in his seat. Behind him, Teyla laid one hand on McKay's chest and pushed him gently but firmly back. McKay caught her hand in his, his breath coming quick and shallow, and they exchanged a look, half hope, half anticipation, half fear.

Without warning, Sheppard floored it, sending them fishtailing across the road directly into the path of an oncoming semi. Ford grabbed the dash, Teyla gasped and McKay let out a weak scream as they flew past the nose of the truck with scant inches to spare. Tires squealing, or maybe that was McKay, they arced through the drive, swept past a mini-van and made a perfect, four-point stop next to an open pump.

Ford laid one hand on Sheppard's shoulder. "Great driving, sir." John smiled and nodded back at him, and they all sat quietly, for a moment, silently thanking whatever deity they usually did or did not pray to for another safe landing in the face of all odds. Then, as one, the other three turned to look at McKay.

"Um." McKay met their gazes, frowning; his own eyes lost focus for a moment, and then he heaved a sigh of relief. "No, it's okay." Sheppard, Teyla and Ford heaved their own relieved sighs as they each reached for their respective door handles and exited the vehicle.

"Do you need assistance, Doctor?" Out on the drive, under the fueling island's canopy, Teyla stepped toward McKay, one hand extended, as he rose slowly from his seat.

McKay was pale, his shirt sweat-stained, but he held his head high. "No, thank you, Teyla." He smiled lopsidedly at her, gratitude filling his eyes. "I couldn't have made it this far without you, but this--this is something I have to do on my own."

She smiled her Mona Lisa smile back at him, then stepped forward, reached up to pull his head down to hers, and touched their foreheads together. "You have done well, Doctor. You should be proud, as I am proud of you."

Their moment of sweet camaraderie was cut short by a gurgle from McKay's nether regions. "I have to go," he whispered, and she nodded and pulled away, still smiling, as he turned and strode, with a hint of John Wayne swagger, or possibly stagger, toward the restrooms at the side of the building.

"He'll be all right." Teyla turned to look behind her at Sheppard, standing next to the pump, watching McKay's progress along with Teyla and Ford. He half-smiled, pride and affection lighting up his eyes. "McKay has depths even he doesn't realize."

They watched until he rounded the corner of the building, out of sight, and then Sheppard reached into his back pocket. "They don't have pay-at-the-pump, here. Teyla, Ford, take my card inside and tell them to start pump three. I'll be there as soon as I can. Ford," Aiden stood ramrod-straight, "keep an eye out for hostiles while Teyla handles the trading. This isn't a great part of town." Ford nodded sharply and moved to stand at Teyla's side. Sheppard turned to Teyla. "We need snacks, and drinks. There's no telling how long it will take us to get downtown. And, both of you," he looked at each of them, in turn, "better go, as long as we're here. What happened to Rodney--" For a moment, he seemed choked by emotion.

Teyla stepped forward quickly and laid a hand on his arm. "We understand. We will do what we can." Sheppard nodded at each of them, and they turned together and set out for the convenience store, Ford's eyes endlessly scanning as he kept in step with Teyla's confident stride.

~~~

"The hot dogs look good." Ford closed his eyes and sniffed deeply as he held open the door of the wiener roller.

Teyla's eyes were troubled. "Normally I would agree, but...something is not right. I do not recognize the woman behind the counter, and I believe I smell cigarette smoke." She motioned to Ford to follow her, and together they walked, slowly, quietly, to the end of the aisle. Beyond the slushee machines and the nacho case, in the farthest corner of the store, stood half a dozen Formica-lined booths, jarringly orange and blending not at all with the rest of the blue and green decor. Teyla gripped Ford's arm and pointed; on one of them, a black ashtray stood, half-filled with butts.

"I know that was not here, before," Teyla hissed. "In fact, much has changed since the last time I traded here." She frowned at Ford and gave his arm a warning squeeze as an attendant in an orange t-shirt walked past him, an indecipherable logo embroidered on his right breast pocket.

"That didn't say 'Citgo,'" Ford whispered, his eyes narrowing.

The door jangled and they both started, then looked over to see Sheppard enter, a frown of annoyance furrowing his handsome brow. He glanced around the store, spotted them next to the beef jerky, and strode toward them.

"I'm still waiting for that pump to come on." He stopped in the aisle in front of them, taking in their worried expressions immediately. "What's going on?"

"We're not sure, Sir, but something isn't right. We think," Ford lowered his voice to a near whisper, "there may have been a change in ownership. They haven't switched the signs, but those shirts...."

Sheppard's expression was grim. "Are you thinking, hostile take-over?" Ford pressed his lips together, then nodded, his eyes angry.

"We did give them your credit card, but they have not started the pump." Teyla cast a worried glance toward the cashier's counter. "Nothing is as it was the last time I was here. They are even allowing smoking, apparently. I think we should tread very carefully." She paused, suddenly, her eyes widening as she looked anxiously from Ford to Sheppard. "The restrooms! Dr. McKay!"

Sheppard paled. "She's right. If they really have changed ownership, there's no telling what state those restrooms may be in. Ford, get out there and check on McKay. Teyla, you're with me. Stay close, and be ready for trouble." Ford nodded curtly and jogged toward the door as Teyla stepped out of her low-heeled, sensible pumps, picked them up in one hand and shook out the other, fingers flexing in anticipation. Together, she and Sheppard walked toward the counter.

The bored-looking young woman behind the bullet-proof glass eyed them wordlessly. Sheppard smiled winningly at her; behind him, Teyla waited, poised and prepared, outwardly placid while every muscle hummed, taut with readiness.

"I'm John Sheppard." He gestured at the platinum card lying on the counter between them, on the cashier's side of the glass. "That's my card."

The cashier--Linda, her plastic tag said--snapped her gum. "Can I see some ID?"

"Certainly." John reached into his pocket slowly, making no sudden moves, his smile never faltering. "Linda--that's a lovely name. Do you like Ferris wheels?"

Linda eyed him doubtfully, snapped her gum again and didn't answer. He slid his driver's license under the divider and waited as she picked it up, peered at it, up at his face and then back down at the ID, again. Apparently satisfied, she slid both ID and credit card back across the counter, under the divider. "Your card was refused."

Sheppard took a quick breath, then glanced at Teyla, who was watching the girl closely while shifting her weight back and forth, almost imperceptibly, on the balls of her feet. Under cover of the countertop, he lightly touched the back of her wrist, and she stilled.

He turned to the girl again, smile gone, now, but his expression was still open, willing to resolve this misunderstanding before things got ugly. "That's not possible. I just used it this morning to buy, to buy donuts." He stuttered a little, visibly thrown off his equilibrium at the memory of the morning's near-disaster. Teyla touched his hand, and he swallowed and continued. "This must be a mistake. Did you run it twice?" The girl nodded, her eyes wandering to the line of cars outside the wide windows.

"If we could call the card company, I'm sure they would allow the purchase." Teyla leaned forward and laid her hand on the teal countertop. "It must be an error."

"Payphone's outside," the girl drawled, not looking at either of them. She waved to a young woman climbing out of a battered pick-up, parked near the door; the young woman waved back at her, then reached into the truck's cab for her purse. As Sheppard and Teyla watched, Ford ran around the corner of the building, coming from the side opposite where the bathrooms were, and nearly knocked the young woman over as he ran down the sidewalk. The girl shouted something at him; Ford ignored her and burst breathlessly through the doors.

"He's not there." Ford's eyes were alight with fear and anger. "He's not in the bathroom, he's not anywhere around the building."

John spun to face the cashier, who was definitely looking at them, now. "Where is he? What have you done with him?" he shouted.

"Who?" The girl's eyes widened as she reached for the phone.

"You know who." Sheppard's jaw clenched, and a vein stood out at his temple. "The man's been through enough! What do you want from us? I have other cards." Sheppard dug through his wallet, pulled out several cards--gold, platinum, titanium--and slapped them down on the counter. "Is this what you want?"

The girl stepped back, away from the counter, and stabbed three times at the keypad. "Randy!" she screeched. At the back of the store the swinging door burst open and Randy, the other attendant, over six feet of battle-ready young manhood, bounded through.

"They must have him back there." John waved Teyla away from him as he stepped forward. "You two get back there and find him. I'll take care of this one." His hands tightened into fists, and he started forward warily, his hazel eyes ablaze with anger and determination. Teyla and Ford moved away from him in two directions, watching Randy closely as they headed for aisles on either side of him.

"What the hell is going on?" Randy shouted at the girl, looking from Ford to Sheppard to Teyla and back to Sheppard again, still advancing on him slowly.

The door jangled behind them. "Not only are their restrooms not as clean as advertised, but the men's was out of toilet paper. Still, I managed to--" The three teammates turned as one to see McKay shoulder his way through the door and step inside, still drying his hands on a wad of paper towels. He stopped short, stared at the scene in front of him, and frowned. "What's happened?"

"McKay!" Sheppard strode quickly toward his friend and grabbed his shoulders. "You're all right!"

"Of course I'm all right. A little uncomfortable--I'm never touching another bran muffin, as long as I live." He looked over Sheppard's shoulder. "Ford? Teyla?"

"Where were you?" Ford jogged to McKay's side. "How did you get away?"

"Get away? From what?" McKay looked at all three of them, his eyes going very wide.

"Aiden went to check on you, and you were gone." Teyla took one of McKay's hands in hers, causing him to drop a crumpled towel onto the floor.

"Well, the, um, men's was out of supplies, so I used the women's." He frowned back at Teyla's disapproving expression. "I locked the door. I needed the privacy, anyway."

Teyla shook her head and smiled. "No matter. We're very glad that you're safe, and that you have been found."

"I wasn't aware that I was lost." McKay looked sheepishly into each face before him. "Really." They all laughed, and Sheppard clapped him on the shoulder, again, grinning from ear to ear.

In the distance, sirens wailed, approaching quickly. Four heads turned sharply to look outside, then at each other. "We'd better get out of here," Ford muttered.

"Let's move." Sheppard turned, grabbed his cards off the counter and ran for the door, the others close behind.

"The snacks!" Teyla cried, hesitating on the pavement outside. She turned as if to go back; Sheppard grabbed her arm.

"There's no time. We'll have to go on without them, and pray that traffic's thinned out, by now." He pulled her along with him as she hopped awkwardly, pulling her shoes on as she went.

Reaching the sedan, they dove inside and slammed their seat-belts into place. Sheppard gunned the engine and roared out onto the side street, away from the busy main drag and into a residential neighborhood. He flew through twisting, pot-holed streets, then pulled up in front of an apartment building and parked, scrunching down in his seat with the other three. The sirens approached, but not too near, then faded as they passed, wailing away into the hot Atlanta mid-morning.

After a few anxious moments, they rose, slowly, and looked around. Out on the sidewalk, two small boys and a black and white dog stared back at them.

McKay rubbed his hands over his red, sweaty face and sighed. "All in favor of using the park-and-ride, tomorrow?" He held up one hand, over his head.

Three hands rose to join his.

~~~