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SGA - Hit Me with Your Best Shot
Title: Hit Me with Your Best Shot
Genre: SGA, Gen, Team, AU
Rating: PG-13 for language and implied violence
Length: ~ 2850 words
Synopsis: Double-crosses and plans gone awry, and yet she’s still not surprised.
Author’s Notes: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
team_sga AU Fest – Team as Assassins
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“John, are you still in position?” Teyla asked via the radio. As expected, she got no answer. “Ronon?” she tried.
“He’s there,” came the response. She could not see him, but swore she could hear his eyes rolling.
“Any particular reason he hasn’t made his move yet?” Rodney cut in from her side.
“He took a break to try the pastries,” Ronon deadpanned. Followed by an exasperated, “How the hell should I know?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re right there and we’re not?” Rodney retorted.
“Patience,” Ronon chided, and Teyla covered her grin. Of everyone on the team, he was typically the most impulsive one. The only reason for his scolding had to be to set Rodney off again. Not surprisingly, it worked.
“We have been patient, incredibly so, but if he waits much longer he’s going to miss his mark and we’re going to lose half our pay,” Rodney reminded him, remarkably calm considering his usual rants. His hands were waving, his eyes were rolling, but there was not even any spittle at the corners of his mouth, so even he must have felt something was up.
She keyed her radio once more. “Not to take Rodney’s side in this, but I could have taken the shot by now.” Quieter, she added, “And I am sorely tempted to do so.”
“Please say she’s still in the van,” Ronon’s voice came over the channel with more than a hint of panic to its undertone.
“She is,” Rodney assured him with a smirk.
“For now,” she warned, knowing the unspoken message would be heard loud and clear. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. This being cooped up was driving her insane. She should be out there, doing something, anything, but instead she was relegated to Ops with Rodney. It was not fair.
She crossed her arms in front of her and was immediately reminded why she had agreed to step back on this one as her forearms bumped against her engorged belly. She was pregnant, not handicapped, and could still fire a gun as well as the rest of them. Looking over to the man at her side, she amended that to better than some. Rodney had improved over the years, but was still likely to miss the mark by an inch or two, much preferring to coordinate the missions and handle the technical details instead.
Ronon hit his targets dead on each and every time, be it with a bullet or a blade; he always got the job done. He was John’s backup on this one, providing a lookout for the op as well as supplemental weaponry if needed. For all his size and bulk, he somehow managed to blend right in to any given situation, especially something like the Atlantis Cooperative Gala where people of all shapes, sizes, and eclectic backgrounds were gathered to mingle and listen to a speech from their elected coordinator.
Rodney sighed and keyed the line again. “John? You better have a really good reason, we’re talking bleeding and dying in an alley reason, for not having hit the target and ran.”
“Seriously, Sheppard, McKay could have made it by now,” Ronon added, a hint of exasperation to his voice.
“Something’s wrong,” John breathed across the line, speaking his first words in hours. Before anyone could ask for clarification, he ordered, “Plan B.”
They could hear him moving even as two voices sighed, “Shit” and a third added, “Well, fuck.”
Sheppard’s gun was fitted with a silencer, but his three teammates could have sworn they heard the muffled shot the moment his finger hit the trigger. They most certainly heard the reaction: glass breaking, a crowd gasping before screaming, pounding footsteps, a blow horn, and an alarm.
“Remain calm, this facility is under lockdown,” a regrettably familiar voice echoed through the speaker. “Stay where you are, everything is under control,” Kolya’s measured tones continued before she turned down the feed.
“Of course he hired the Genii Squad to stop us,” Rodney bitched, flipping several switches between typing furiously at his keyboard. “Of course it was a fucking double-cross,” he continued against the sounds of small explosions as his detonators went off. “And of course, fucking Sheppard was fucking right,” he finished with a sigh, pulling his own weapon from the holster at his thigh and placing it next to his keyboard.
Teyla switched over to the new frequency, keying the radio to ask, “John? Ronon? Are you able to escape?” She tracked their movements on the closed circuit feed, watching as they dodged a patrol and darted through another doorway blasted open by Rodney’s obsessive planning.
John’s voice filled the small van. “We can if you free up the East exit,” he reported.
“Why can’t you take them out yourself?” Rodney grumbled, setting off another charge.
“Thought it would be bad form to kill people in front of our guests,” Sheppard responded. It was then they noticed not only the extra forms tagging along on the feed, but the distinctly female voices demanding to know what the hell was going on in the background.
“He didn’t...” Rodney sighed. His look to Teyla told her he already knew the answer so it was pretty pointless to finish asking the question.
“He did,” Ronon confirmed. “Her assistant’s a pretty decent shot, too.”
Teyla wiped a hand over her face, listing to a voice too full of static to identify as anything other than female shouting something about promising to only aim for the kneecaps. She watched as the four shadows made their way towards the East exit, keying the necessary distractions while Rodney worked on the code to release the door. The cameras from inside the building were still showing chaos in the central conference area, with the Genii Squadron using far more force than necessary to control the rather rebellious crowd and not being able to spare any further of their number to hold back John and Ronon’s exit.
They always were poor planners.
Free from the conference center, there was no clear view until the four approached the vehicle, safely tucked around a corner three blocks away. Teyla levered herself up to open the back, motioning for Rodney to get ready to drive. She could have done so herself, but frankly the seatbelt got uncomfortable around her middle and she wanted to be the first to grill John on is decision to blow the op.
She cracked open the door, ready to cover the most dangerous part of the withdrawal: the run from the cover of the towering buildings to the open street where the truck was parked. John was first, pack slung over his back while he tried to tuck his backup piece out of sight from general view and still keep it close at hand. Their guests were next, the blonde holstering something far fancier than the usual fare while the brunette appeared to be in full lecture mode about something. Ronon covered their six, not bothering to hide his own weapon until the others were within the cover of the truck.
She pushed the door open just wide enough for them to fit through, keeping an eye on the moving shadows behind them, making sure they were nothing more than pedestrians blindly oblivious the activity around them. “Come on!” she urged when she thought they were taking too long, grateful when Ronon hoisted the brunette the rest of the way and slammed the door behind him.
The blonde blinked at her in surprise, eyes focused on her bulging belly. “Okay, so I wasn’t expecting that,” she admitted, checking to make sure the safety was on and her weapon was secure.
“Well, I was not expecting guests, so I suppose we are even,” Teyla replied, letting her own gun drift into a more relaxed position, but not yet ready to put it away.
“Fair enough,” the blonde laughed, swinging her long braid over her shoulder. After a quick look to her companion as if for permission, she offered out her hand. “Sam Carter,” she introduced herself.
Teyla took her hand, head cocked to the side as the name rang something in the recesses of her memory. Before she could seek an answer to just what the familiarity was, the brunette was offering her own overture of, “Doctor Elizabeth Weir, but I assume you know that already considering I was your intended target.”
“Yeah, about that?” Rodney prompted from the front seat, his eyes never leaving the road as he navigated around mysteriously appearing roadblocks. Maybe the Genii were learning about the whole planning thing after all.
John angled himself into the passenger seat, tucking his bag beside him as he answered, “I know Carter from my freelance days. Both of us were contracted by the same organization in the past.” He turned around slightly to face the woman in question and offered a grin. “She’s good people. The moment I saw her covering Weir, I knew something was up.”
“We received intel that someone was going to try something,” Carter confirmed. “Being that said intel was received from an ass, I was suspicious and arranged to cover her myself.”
“The person who opposed my appointment and was my biggest challenger told me my life was in danger,” Weir clarified. “He’s been telling anyone who will listen that it’s too risky to have me in charge based on some past dealings that may have made me an enemy to two.” Turning to Teyla, she gestured to one of the open seats. “Will you please sit down? You’re making me nervous just looking at you.”
Teyla was about to protest, but Ronon crossed his arms and ordered, “Sit.” With a slight grin, he added, “McKay’s driving; you know how dangerous that is.”
She sat with a sigh, folding her own arms across her stomach, gun still in hand and daring them to comment about it. There was absolutely no way she would admit she had been having trouble balancing in the moving vehicle as she knew she would never hear the end of it. “Your opposition?” she prompted.
“Dale Oberoth,” Weir supplied. “Vicious old thing. Didn’t trust him before and I sure as hell don’t trust him now.”
“Can we assume he’s the one who hired you?” Carter asked, leaning slightly against John’s seat to keep her balance on a particularly nasty turn. Off of Teyla’s raised eyebrow, she admitted, “Kind of figured it out when Sheppard shot his picture instead of the Doctor. I wouldn’t put it past him, though I have no idea why he’d double-cross you in the process. He hates Weir and her plans of the Pegasus Project, but he could have just hired the squad he used to try to trap you to take her out, so it makes no sense.”
“We have a history with the squadron in question,” Teyla diplomatically supplied.
“Like blowing their cover and showing them for the incompetent asses they are,” Rodney chimed in. He turned yet another corner, narrowly making a light before it changed to red. “Seeing how I’m busy with the escape and everything, one of you check if there’s a connection between Oberoth and the Genii, beyond the one I bookmarked already.”
Teyla whipped her head around, trying both to glare at him and keep her balance in her chair. “You knew of a connection and did not feel it was important enough to mention?” she demanded.
Rodney waived her off, and waved a hand, prompting Sheppard to remind him to concentrate on driving. “One of his nieces works at one of the cover companies Kolya likes to use. Some agricultural thing that looks good on paper and is a good way of cleaning the cash. She checked out as a receptionist only, but I’m betting there’s something more.”
Teyla pulled up his original search, using that as a basis as she looked for updates. “Would the fact that she is just announced her engagement to Marcel Cowen of any interest?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at the obviousness of it. Fredrick Cowen helped train Kolya, and was not-so regrettably killed several months ago. Marcel was his only son and heir to everything he owned, most likely including his mercenary teams.
“So you’ve figured out why he went with them, but why include you at all?” Sam asked, reading over her shoulder.
“Cowen, and Kolya, probably talked him into it to try to get us out of the picture,” Sheppard explained.
“Might also help them look more legit,” Ronon added.
Teyla nodded, putting the pieces together while trying to ignore McKay’s ranting and driving. She waited for a slight pause and suggested, “Oberoth hired Kolya at the request of Cowen. Kolya suggested he hire us for the assassination job. We succeed, his team comes in as ‘security’ and apprehends us. We fail, his team finishes the job and still has the opportunity to catch us, or at least sully our name in the community.”
“What happens now that you technically failed, and his team fails as well?” Weir asked.
Carter’s grin stopped Teyla from answering, letting her have her say. “We hire you and turn it around on them,” she offered. “We should be able to get you double, if not something a bit more tantalizing than cash.”
Elizabeth seemed to catch on quickly, offering a quirk of her lips and a nod. “Your ‘security firm’ successfully saved my life and unearthed a conspiracy against the Atlantis Cooperative.”
Sam shrugged with false innocence. “And if all the evidence points to Oberoth and his ties to a known mercenary group, all the better.”
“Could take them both down and raise us both up,” Ronon nodded.
“Suddenly, I’m not minding missing out on half of the fee from this job...” Rodney mused.
John shook his head, pointing out, “We haven’t even started to talk about finances, let alone if we have enough evidence to do this.” He was fingering the strap on his pack though, a sure sign to Teyla that he was thinking about it.
“We have the feed from the event, and more that I do not feel comfortable discussing until we have a firm contract with our new friends,” she advised.
Rodney pulled into a parking space at the far edge of a shopping center. “They can more than afford us,” he said, turning around to face the others. “I saw their finances when we were setting this thing up. Decent, to say the least. Decadent, to say more. Not to mention access to tech that rivals our own, if not surpasses it if the rumors are true. Access to that, plus a chance to look legit and take down Kolya? It’s like a wet dream.”
Teyla rolled her eyes at his comparison, but had to admit it was increasingly appealing. It would be a steady job, at least for a while, and had the possibility of becoming far more if, as Rodney had said, the rumors were true. She doubted they would let her in on too much of the action until the baby was born, but even that had its allure. “I would be agreeable to negotiations, if the others are as well,” she announced.
“As long as I get to shoot anyone dumb enough to double-cross us,” Ronon agreed, flipping his gun in his hand. It was both a promise and a threat, and their guests seemed to acknowledge both with a single look.
“You’ve heard my take on it,” McKay shrugged.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Teyla teased. She turned to the remaining member of their team, the only one staying surprisingly quiet throughout. If he had another hunch, or bad feeling, or even the slightest hint of wariness, the deal was off. It was always everyone or no one as far as the team was concerned. “John?” she prompted.
“Whad’ya say, Sheppard? Willing to put up with me again?” Carter asked, resting against his chair.
He made a face at her before turning and making a different face at the completely obvious way McKay was looking her up and down and not just admiring her weaponry. Rodney backed off readily enough, leaving him to his musings. Finally, he looked back at Sam and, with a pathetic half-whine, pouted, “We don’t have to go completely legit, do we? I’ve never been good at that whole following orders/blending in with good society thing.”
Sam’s scoff echoed Teyla’s own as she commented, “There’s an understatement.”
Weir simply cocked an eyebrow. “Sign a contract with us and you’ll see just how far from ‘good society’ we truly are,” she offered.
“So that whole tech thing is true?” Rodney asked, nearly salivating at the chance to get his hands on it.
Weir gave nothing away beyond a slight tilt of her head as she nonchalantly replied, “Let’s just say every believable rumor has at least some basis in truth.”
Teyla watched as John looked to Rodney, then Ronon, and finally met her gaze. She knew what his answer would be before he even spoke, though that did not stop the small thrill she felt as he grinned and said, “Let’s do this.”
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Genre: SGA, Gen, Team, AU
Rating: PG-13 for language and implied violence
Length: ~ 2850 words
Synopsis: Double-crosses and plans gone awry, and yet she’s still not surprised.
Author’s Notes: Written for the
team_sga AU Fest – Team as AssassinsDisclaimer: I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do. I’m just borrowing them to play and making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“John, are you still in position?” Teyla asked via the radio. As expected, she got no answer. “Ronon?” she tried.
“He’s there,” came the response. She could not see him, but swore she could hear his eyes rolling.
“Any particular reason he hasn’t made his move yet?” Rodney cut in from her side.
“He took a break to try the pastries,” Ronon deadpanned. Followed by an exasperated, “How the hell should I know?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re right there and we’re not?” Rodney retorted.
“Patience,” Ronon chided, and Teyla covered her grin. Of everyone on the team, he was typically the most impulsive one. The only reason for his scolding had to be to set Rodney off again. Not surprisingly, it worked.
“We have been patient, incredibly so, but if he waits much longer he’s going to miss his mark and we’re going to lose half our pay,” Rodney reminded him, remarkably calm considering his usual rants. His hands were waving, his eyes were rolling, but there was not even any spittle at the corners of his mouth, so even he must have felt something was up.
She keyed her radio once more. “Not to take Rodney’s side in this, but I could have taken the shot by now.” Quieter, she added, “And I am sorely tempted to do so.”
“Please say she’s still in the van,” Ronon’s voice came over the channel with more than a hint of panic to its undertone.
“She is,” Rodney assured him with a smirk.
“For now,” she warned, knowing the unspoken message would be heard loud and clear. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. This being cooped up was driving her insane. She should be out there, doing something, anything, but instead she was relegated to Ops with Rodney. It was not fair.
She crossed her arms in front of her and was immediately reminded why she had agreed to step back on this one as her forearms bumped against her engorged belly. She was pregnant, not handicapped, and could still fire a gun as well as the rest of them. Looking over to the man at her side, she amended that to better than some. Rodney had improved over the years, but was still likely to miss the mark by an inch or two, much preferring to coordinate the missions and handle the technical details instead.
Ronon hit his targets dead on each and every time, be it with a bullet or a blade; he always got the job done. He was John’s backup on this one, providing a lookout for the op as well as supplemental weaponry if needed. For all his size and bulk, he somehow managed to blend right in to any given situation, especially something like the Atlantis Cooperative Gala where people of all shapes, sizes, and eclectic backgrounds were gathered to mingle and listen to a speech from their elected coordinator.
Rodney sighed and keyed the line again. “John? You better have a really good reason, we’re talking bleeding and dying in an alley reason, for not having hit the target and ran.”
“Seriously, Sheppard, McKay could have made it by now,” Ronon added, a hint of exasperation to his voice.
“Something’s wrong,” John breathed across the line, speaking his first words in hours. Before anyone could ask for clarification, he ordered, “Plan B.”
They could hear him moving even as two voices sighed, “Shit” and a third added, “Well, fuck.”
Sheppard’s gun was fitted with a silencer, but his three teammates could have sworn they heard the muffled shot the moment his finger hit the trigger. They most certainly heard the reaction: glass breaking, a crowd gasping before screaming, pounding footsteps, a blow horn, and an alarm.
“Remain calm, this facility is under lockdown,” a regrettably familiar voice echoed through the speaker. “Stay where you are, everything is under control,” Kolya’s measured tones continued before she turned down the feed.
“Of course he hired the Genii Squad to stop us,” Rodney bitched, flipping several switches between typing furiously at his keyboard. “Of course it was a fucking double-cross,” he continued against the sounds of small explosions as his detonators went off. “And of course, fucking Sheppard was fucking right,” he finished with a sigh, pulling his own weapon from the holster at his thigh and placing it next to his keyboard.
Teyla switched over to the new frequency, keying the radio to ask, “John? Ronon? Are you able to escape?” She tracked their movements on the closed circuit feed, watching as they dodged a patrol and darted through another doorway blasted open by Rodney’s obsessive planning.
John’s voice filled the small van. “We can if you free up the East exit,” he reported.
“Why can’t you take them out yourself?” Rodney grumbled, setting off another charge.
“Thought it would be bad form to kill people in front of our guests,” Sheppard responded. It was then they noticed not only the extra forms tagging along on the feed, but the distinctly female voices demanding to know what the hell was going on in the background.
“He didn’t...” Rodney sighed. His look to Teyla told her he already knew the answer so it was pretty pointless to finish asking the question.
“He did,” Ronon confirmed. “Her assistant’s a pretty decent shot, too.”
Teyla wiped a hand over her face, listing to a voice too full of static to identify as anything other than female shouting something about promising to only aim for the kneecaps. She watched as the four shadows made their way towards the East exit, keying the necessary distractions while Rodney worked on the code to release the door. The cameras from inside the building were still showing chaos in the central conference area, with the Genii Squadron using far more force than necessary to control the rather rebellious crowd and not being able to spare any further of their number to hold back John and Ronon’s exit.
They always were poor planners.
Free from the conference center, there was no clear view until the four approached the vehicle, safely tucked around a corner three blocks away. Teyla levered herself up to open the back, motioning for Rodney to get ready to drive. She could have done so herself, but frankly the seatbelt got uncomfortable around her middle and she wanted to be the first to grill John on is decision to blow the op.
She cracked open the door, ready to cover the most dangerous part of the withdrawal: the run from the cover of the towering buildings to the open street where the truck was parked. John was first, pack slung over his back while he tried to tuck his backup piece out of sight from general view and still keep it close at hand. Their guests were next, the blonde holstering something far fancier than the usual fare while the brunette appeared to be in full lecture mode about something. Ronon covered their six, not bothering to hide his own weapon until the others were within the cover of the truck.
She pushed the door open just wide enough for them to fit through, keeping an eye on the moving shadows behind them, making sure they were nothing more than pedestrians blindly oblivious the activity around them. “Come on!” she urged when she thought they were taking too long, grateful when Ronon hoisted the brunette the rest of the way and slammed the door behind him.
The blonde blinked at her in surprise, eyes focused on her bulging belly. “Okay, so I wasn’t expecting that,” she admitted, checking to make sure the safety was on and her weapon was secure.
“Well, I was not expecting guests, so I suppose we are even,” Teyla replied, letting her own gun drift into a more relaxed position, but not yet ready to put it away.
“Fair enough,” the blonde laughed, swinging her long braid over her shoulder. After a quick look to her companion as if for permission, she offered out her hand. “Sam Carter,” she introduced herself.
Teyla took her hand, head cocked to the side as the name rang something in the recesses of her memory. Before she could seek an answer to just what the familiarity was, the brunette was offering her own overture of, “Doctor Elizabeth Weir, but I assume you know that already considering I was your intended target.”
“Yeah, about that?” Rodney prompted from the front seat, his eyes never leaving the road as he navigated around mysteriously appearing roadblocks. Maybe the Genii were learning about the whole planning thing after all.
John angled himself into the passenger seat, tucking his bag beside him as he answered, “I know Carter from my freelance days. Both of us were contracted by the same organization in the past.” He turned around slightly to face the woman in question and offered a grin. “She’s good people. The moment I saw her covering Weir, I knew something was up.”
“We received intel that someone was going to try something,” Carter confirmed. “Being that said intel was received from an ass, I was suspicious and arranged to cover her myself.”
“The person who opposed my appointment and was my biggest challenger told me my life was in danger,” Weir clarified. “He’s been telling anyone who will listen that it’s too risky to have me in charge based on some past dealings that may have made me an enemy to two.” Turning to Teyla, she gestured to one of the open seats. “Will you please sit down? You’re making me nervous just looking at you.”
Teyla was about to protest, but Ronon crossed his arms and ordered, “Sit.” With a slight grin, he added, “McKay’s driving; you know how dangerous that is.”
She sat with a sigh, folding her own arms across her stomach, gun still in hand and daring them to comment about it. There was absolutely no way she would admit she had been having trouble balancing in the moving vehicle as she knew she would never hear the end of it. “Your opposition?” she prompted.
“Dale Oberoth,” Weir supplied. “Vicious old thing. Didn’t trust him before and I sure as hell don’t trust him now.”
“Can we assume he’s the one who hired you?” Carter asked, leaning slightly against John’s seat to keep her balance on a particularly nasty turn. Off of Teyla’s raised eyebrow, she admitted, “Kind of figured it out when Sheppard shot his picture instead of the Doctor. I wouldn’t put it past him, though I have no idea why he’d double-cross you in the process. He hates Weir and her plans of the Pegasus Project, but he could have just hired the squad he used to try to trap you to take her out, so it makes no sense.”
“We have a history with the squadron in question,” Teyla diplomatically supplied.
“Like blowing their cover and showing them for the incompetent asses they are,” Rodney chimed in. He turned yet another corner, narrowly making a light before it changed to red. “Seeing how I’m busy with the escape and everything, one of you check if there’s a connection between Oberoth and the Genii, beyond the one I bookmarked already.”
Teyla whipped her head around, trying both to glare at him and keep her balance in her chair. “You knew of a connection and did not feel it was important enough to mention?” she demanded.
Rodney waived her off, and waved a hand, prompting Sheppard to remind him to concentrate on driving. “One of his nieces works at one of the cover companies Kolya likes to use. Some agricultural thing that looks good on paper and is a good way of cleaning the cash. She checked out as a receptionist only, but I’m betting there’s something more.”
Teyla pulled up his original search, using that as a basis as she looked for updates. “Would the fact that she is just announced her engagement to Marcel Cowen of any interest?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at the obviousness of it. Fredrick Cowen helped train Kolya, and was not-so regrettably killed several months ago. Marcel was his only son and heir to everything he owned, most likely including his mercenary teams.
“So you’ve figured out why he went with them, but why include you at all?” Sam asked, reading over her shoulder.
“Cowen, and Kolya, probably talked him into it to try to get us out of the picture,” Sheppard explained.
“Might also help them look more legit,” Ronon added.
Teyla nodded, putting the pieces together while trying to ignore McKay’s ranting and driving. She waited for a slight pause and suggested, “Oberoth hired Kolya at the request of Cowen. Kolya suggested he hire us for the assassination job. We succeed, his team comes in as ‘security’ and apprehends us. We fail, his team finishes the job and still has the opportunity to catch us, or at least sully our name in the community.”
“What happens now that you technically failed, and his team fails as well?” Weir asked.
Carter’s grin stopped Teyla from answering, letting her have her say. “We hire you and turn it around on them,” she offered. “We should be able to get you double, if not something a bit more tantalizing than cash.”
Elizabeth seemed to catch on quickly, offering a quirk of her lips and a nod. “Your ‘security firm’ successfully saved my life and unearthed a conspiracy against the Atlantis Cooperative.”
Sam shrugged with false innocence. “And if all the evidence points to Oberoth and his ties to a known mercenary group, all the better.”
“Could take them both down and raise us both up,” Ronon nodded.
“Suddenly, I’m not minding missing out on half of the fee from this job...” Rodney mused.
John shook his head, pointing out, “We haven’t even started to talk about finances, let alone if we have enough evidence to do this.” He was fingering the strap on his pack though, a sure sign to Teyla that he was thinking about it.
“We have the feed from the event, and more that I do not feel comfortable discussing until we have a firm contract with our new friends,” she advised.
Rodney pulled into a parking space at the far edge of a shopping center. “They can more than afford us,” he said, turning around to face the others. “I saw their finances when we were setting this thing up. Decent, to say the least. Decadent, to say more. Not to mention access to tech that rivals our own, if not surpasses it if the rumors are true. Access to that, plus a chance to look legit and take down Kolya? It’s like a wet dream.”
Teyla rolled her eyes at his comparison, but had to admit it was increasingly appealing. It would be a steady job, at least for a while, and had the possibility of becoming far more if, as Rodney had said, the rumors were true. She doubted they would let her in on too much of the action until the baby was born, but even that had its allure. “I would be agreeable to negotiations, if the others are as well,” she announced.
“As long as I get to shoot anyone dumb enough to double-cross us,” Ronon agreed, flipping his gun in his hand. It was both a promise and a threat, and their guests seemed to acknowledge both with a single look.
“You’ve heard my take on it,” McKay shrugged.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Teyla teased. She turned to the remaining member of their team, the only one staying surprisingly quiet throughout. If he had another hunch, or bad feeling, or even the slightest hint of wariness, the deal was off. It was always everyone or no one as far as the team was concerned. “John?” she prompted.
“Whad’ya say, Sheppard? Willing to put up with me again?” Carter asked, resting against his chair.
He made a face at her before turning and making a different face at the completely obvious way McKay was looking her up and down and not just admiring her weaponry. Rodney backed off readily enough, leaving him to his musings. Finally, he looked back at Sam and, with a pathetic half-whine, pouted, “We don’t have to go completely legit, do we? I’ve never been good at that whole following orders/blending in with good society thing.”
Sam’s scoff echoed Teyla’s own as she commented, “There’s an understatement.”
Weir simply cocked an eyebrow. “Sign a contract with us and you’ll see just how far from ‘good society’ we truly are,” she offered.
“So that whole tech thing is true?” Rodney asked, nearly salivating at the chance to get his hands on it.
Weir gave nothing away beyond a slight tilt of her head as she nonchalantly replied, “Let’s just say every believable rumor has at least some basis in truth.”
Teyla watched as John looked to Rodney, then Ronon, and finally met her gaze. She knew what his answer would be before he even spoke, though that did not stop the small thrill she felt as he grinned and said, “Let’s do this.”
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
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Love the details woven in and out of the story. Awesome fun.
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Once again you've turned out a great, intriguing AU. I'd love to see more scenes from this 'verse if inspiration strikes.
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