Title: The Fiendish Plan of Dr. Macabre
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Various, McKay/Sheppard
Warning: AU crack!fic
For: vegetariansushi, who made me do it; and chopchica, just because.
Challenge: sga_flashfic's "Shark" challenge.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowed.
Edit: It seems I managed to post this to sga_flashfic mere moments before the challenge ended, so now I'm archiving the fic here too...
I wrote this story on IM as part of storytime, which I inflict on vegetariansushi on a regular basis. For those of you who haven't participated in storytime before, here are the ground rules:
- Heckling is allowed
- Making up your own subplots is allowed
- Puns, witty asides, and innuendo are not only allowed but earn bonus points
- Icons, bribes, propositions and other nefarious schemes to get the author to tell more stories may or may not work, but are certainly allowed
- DO NOT TALK ABOUT STORYTIME [gratuitous movie references are also allowed]
So... To set the scene: we find ourselves smack-bang in the middle of a dank tropical jungle, staring up at a huge, vine-covered temple, and surrounded by exotic (and no doubt highly poisonous) plants.
[The poisonous plant thing is not important; it's just a bit of poetic license I've added in to make things more interesting. You don't have to worry about keeping your hands in your pockets or anything. Storytime is a full scratch'n'sniff sensory experience, so go ahead and have fun with the location. We've got it until Tarzan comes back from summer hiatus, so, you know, let's get decent value out of it!]
Cut to: the temple interior. [Think: Tomb Raider. Except without Angelina Jolie's breasts.]
A man in black--Secret Agent John "double oh, oh" Sheppard--is running the gauntlet of all the fiendish booby-traps located between him and the main room of the temple. He chops off the head of the giant python, Tarzans over the pool of boiling mud, flutters his eyelashes at the gang of gorillas blocking the entrance to the Mega-Maze.
[These are not metaphorical gorillas, as in thick-necked military grunts. They're the other kind. It's important to be clear about these things.]
The gorillas immediately swarm John and try to rip his clothes off. For a moment things are grim! He disappears beneath them and all looks lost...
Cut to: Rodney gripping the edge of a console in the temple's viewing room, knuckles turning white...
But no! Secret Agent John "double oh oh, do-it-to-me" Sheppard, shoots a grapnel from his handy utility belt and winches himself up to the ceiling. "Sorry, ladies," he says to the wailing gorillas, "I'll try to swing by later." And he winks.
The gorillas swoon.
Blah, blah, further adventures as he makes his way through the temple.
[Use your imagination for this part; or alternatively watch Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Although you have my permission to fast-forward through all the bits in which a screaming woman is present. Seriously. It'll be a more enjoyable experience with that one little editorial change. Are we on the same page now? Okay, then. Moving on.]
John arrives in the main room [remember: Tomb Raider without the breasts] looking dishevelled, but in a really hot, stubble-and-designer-dirt kind of way.
"Ah," Rodney says, "Secret Agent John," and he pauses to make air quotes, "'double oh oh' Sheppard." He looks at his watch. "You're late! I hope my girls didn't delay you. I know how much you enjoy monkey business."
John: "Dr. Macabre! I should have known as soon as P said a volcano had appeared near an unstable third-world nuclear facility that it would be your work!"
Rodney: "Oh, please! You know perfectly well I'm the only one on the planet with MagmaWarp capability. Were you asleep during the whole Undercover Russian Ballet Spy Coup? Because I could have sworn that it was you who foiled my fiendish plan to take over the world with Intercontinental MagmaBombs."
John: "If only you hadn't built in that easily detectable weakness in the main guidance console."
Rodney crosses his arms. "I'd like to see you do better, spyboy."
John flicks open a mole on the side of his wrist and licks the skin beneath.
Rodney gapes at him. "Don't tell me that incompetent fool Beckett has finally ironed out the bugs in his--"
Suddenly, seismic tremors begin to shake apart the entire temple!
Rodney: "Damn it! If only my MagmaWarp technology wasn't totally susceptible to seismic tremors at exactly that frequency! Foiled again! But this isn't the last of me, double-oh!" And with that, he dives to one side, disappearing into a handy escape shute, leaving behind only the echo of a panicked scream as he picks up velocity.
John looks around at the disintegrating temple, huge chunks of masonry crashing down all around him. "Well, fuck." Then he shrugs, taps his mike and says: "Mission accomplished, P. I'll need evac from the roof in about..."
One of the gorillas appears and beckons to John, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
"...about 15 minutes." Then John leaps over a chasm, falling into the gorilla's waiting arms on the other side and lets her pull him into the darkness.
The sound of "oh, oh, oh" drifts out a moment later.
Fade to black.
[You did read the warning that this was *crack* fic, right? Because, seriously, James Bond is a total ho, and that really, really needed to be said. And hey! Nothing says "total ho" like gorillas. The end.]
We cut to an ugly public-service conference room.
John is sitting in a chair, listening to P's briefing on the upcoming mission.
[In case you're wondering, P is a gorgeous middle-aged woman, who, by the way, is *not* skeletally thin, although she can be of any ethnic background you prefer. I see her as a kind of hot red-head, because I've always wanted to Mary-Sue myself and, frankly, this seems a good moment. Although now I'm kind of going to a sex-on-the-conference-room-table place and that's really not meant to be part of this scene, so maybe scratch the red-head thing and, um, imagine... Susan Sarandon... okay, I'm stuck in a rut here. Look, just do your own thing on this one. And also, while I think of it, I have no idea what "P" stands for, it just sounds rude: "pee," and that's why I picked it.]
John yawns. He bends a paperclip back and forth. When that palls, he shoots a flirty look at the General sitting on the other side of the table. The General goes bright red and takes a big gulp of water.
[See! See! It's not just me! Sex on the conference room table is on everyone's mind! And I'm blaming John. No one should be able to bend a paperclip like that. It's obscene.]
"Blah blah spy stuff blah," says P, and then: "All the available intel suggests this is the work of Dr. Macabre!"
And suddenly John drops the paperclip and perks right up.
Cut to: Underwater Science Lab.
[Think: The Abyss. Or: Sphere. If you haven't seen these movies, then, go you! Seriously, you have not missed out. Except for that one scene in The Abyss where the protagonist-dude has to cut the wires, which is great, but not worth sitting through three hours of James Cameron's idea of underwater adventure to get to. In brief: not worth the effort; so just think of a big metal room with some gadgetry stuff scattered around, and maybe some swish-swash sound effects, and you're good to go.]
Zelenka is sitting in a chair, staring at Rodney. "Rodney!" he says. "Creating process to put monkey hair on all those women cost $280 million dollars!"
[Ah! Gorilla jokes. They never get old.]
Rodney: "We'll recoup it in less than six months when we launch it as the latest in hair replacement therapy." He waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it."
Zelenka: "And temple! $104 million to build! Why insist on exact replica of Cleopatra's Sex Palace, if you knew Secret Agent John" he reluctantly makes half-hearted air quotes, "'double oh oh' Sheppard was just going to destroy whole building with seismic-disrupter-mole you made me leak to Beckett? The Tamini Government are not happy! They want payment of $77 million in reforestation costs!"
Rodney: "I said don't worry about it! I'd already set aside $200 million for reforestation donations anyway, so that we'd get that cloning application approved by the US government before the New Year."
Zelenka: "You are delusional megalomaniac. You waste money like water. Your science is brilliant, and all you do is make stupid toys that don't work and try to take over world in unworkable ways!"
Rodney: "Valid points, all. But totally irrelevant, because you are too stupid to appreciate the big picture. What do I care about ruling the world?" He snaps his fingers in a way that makes it clear: the world can just fuck off. "It'd just involve a lot of boring administrative work. No. That isn't even the point! And if you weren't such a complete moron, you would have figured that out by now." He strikes a heroic pose. "I have a much higher purpose!"
Zelenka: "You mean stupid plan to woo Secret Agent John," he starts to make air quotes then scowls and stops, "Sheppard? It will take more than MagmaBombs and surgically enhanced gorilla bimbos to do that! Even you are not smart enough to leash that man's libido!"
Rodney's shoulders slump. "He didn't look very impressed, did he?"
Zelenka shakes his head and pats him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Perhaps he will like Mutant Sharks more."
Rodney: "And the underwater laser trap. That's fiendish, isn't it? Or am I deluding myself? Is it merely..." he shudders, "eccentric!"
Zelenka: "No, no. Truly, it is fiendish device. I do not know how he will escape it."
Rodney straightens up a little: "About that. It's time to leak the plans for the refractive counter-measure thing I invented last year. It needs a catchy name though. Get Kavanagh onto it. He's good at stupid acronyms. Tell him I want a sexy one this time. That one he came up with for the gorilla-women--what was it?"
Zelenka: "HO-PERT. Hybrid Organic/Prosthetic Epidermal Replacement Therapy."
Rodney snorts. "HO-PERT! Jesus. That's the best he could come up with? What am I saying! He's a moron. Moving on: leak the gadget to Beckett. Then (insert comic-sounding nefarious details here)--"
[What? Do I look like Rodney McKay to you? Seriously, coming up with this stuff takes way more time than you think. You're welcome to invent your own nefarious comic details. Please feel free to share. I enjoy a good comic detail as much as the next crack!fic writer.]
Zelenka nods, makes a little note on his clipboard...
Aaaand... we fade to black.
Blah blah. Time passes. Backstory. Subplot.
John turns up at the Underwater Science Lab. Action. Jumping. Machines that shoot serrated frisbees, etc etc.
But, of course, just as it looks like John is going to get away clean--having implanted the computer virus which will sink the Lab to the bottom of the bottomless sea trench below--he's caught by Rodney's robot minion (which looks like a shapely blonde in a small bikini).
John ends up strung above a tank of circling sharks.
Rodney: "You have failed at your stupid heroics, spyboy! This time, I will rule the world. Bwahahahahaha!"
John: "Hey, cool sharks. Did you engineer them yourself?"
Rodney blushes: "Yes, yes, of course I did. You don't think I'd trust any of my moronic minions to a job like that, do you?" And then, before John can answer. "Do you really like them?"
John: "Are you kidding? They have flip-top heads! And what's their top speed? They have to be faster than those Giant Otters you did that time in New Zealand. I bet they can do 50 mph, right? With the right ropes, you could probably water-ski on these babies."
Rodney: "50 mph? Pfftt. Please! They have an airfoil fin on their underside, and an internal gas chamber to boost thrust. They can do nearly 100 mph! Close to 110 with a good current!"
John's eyes gleam with delight. "110 mph? Jesus, Rodney, that's seriously--"
BAM! WHACK! SMASH!
[Those are the sounds of minions being hit by Teyla's fighting sticks, in case you were wondering; and also the sounds of minions slamming into walls, floors, ceilings and each other after being hit by Teyla's fighting sticks.]
Secret Agent Teyla d'Phantisee bursts into the Lab's aqua-chamber. She levels her gun at Rodney. "I have you in my sights now, Dr. Macabre! Don't think you're getting away this time. I'm taking you in! You'll never menace the world with one of your fiendish plots again!"
Rodney starts to sweat, eyeing the escape pod a few feet to his left.
Teyla's finger twitches, ever so slightly, on the trigger. "Go ahead, Doc. Make my day!"
"I surrender," Rodney says hurriedly, raising his hands very slowly and carefully. "Don't shoot!"
Looking a little disappointed, Teyla carefully edges her way around the pool to John, never taking her eyes off Rodney. "Are you okay, John?"
John twists his wrists in the restraints. "Just need some help with these, Teyla."
Rodney says nothing, looking on defeatedly as Teyla--her gun still trained on him--reaches over and presses the release button.
John drops to the floor and steps into Teyla's personal space, running a hand down her arm in a casual caress. "Good work, Teyla. What's the situation?"
Teyla: "The station is secure. The Doc here," and she thrusts the gun at him, "is the last of them running loose." A small smile of satisfaction curls one corner of her mouth. "We've finally done it, John. Finally taken down the great Dr. Macabre." She cocks her head to one side, staring at Rodney. "I thought it would be harder."
John: "Yeah, but the Doc can be a tricky customer; he could still pull something fiendish out of his ass. How long before the team gets here and the whole place is locked down?"
Teyla: "ETA two minutes."
John smiles, and it's so seductive that even seeing it just from the corner of her eye, Teyla visibly melts.
"Oh, John!" she says. "Once this is all over, maybe we could..."
John slides his hand along her bare midriff. "I've never done it in an Underwater Science Lab," he murmurs, nuzzling her neck.
"Oh, God," Rodney says and closes his eyes. He looks like his heart is about to break.
Then there's the slap of flesh on flesh and a grunt, and then a thud, as entwined bodies land on the platform above the shark pool.
Rodney: "I knew the sharks were a mistake! I should have gone with the giant space cannon." He slits an eye open a little. Then both eyes pop open and he stares, his expression one of total shock.
Teyla is unconscious, her gun knocked to the other side of the room, and John is tying the restraints around her wrists. He looks up and meets Rodney's gaze: "You okay, Rodney?"
Rodney: "Am I okay?"
John: "You were looking a little faint there for a minute. And we need to move fast if we're going to make it out before lockdown."
Rodney: "What! What are you talking about? What are you *doing*?"
John: "The spy business wouldn't be any fun without you, anyway." He prowls around the pool towards Rodney. "You are going to keep me in the style to which I seriously want to become accustomed, right?"
Rodney backs up until he runs aground against the airlock: "Is this some kind of cunning stratagem? Because, because... Oh my god, what are you doing?"
John doesn't stop moving until he has Rodney pressed up against the wall. "No one's ever made me a genetically superior shark before." And then he kisses Rodney, kisses him the way he does everything: hard and fast and with a total commitment to action.
"John," says Rodney, kissing him back frantically, "if you're fucking with me, I'm going to be really, really insanely angry. I mean, world-breakingly angry."
John hoists Rodney up--Rodney moans and wraps both legs around his waist--and, still kissing, carries him towards the escape pod. "Cool. You're so hot when you're insecure and jealous. And I'm kinda bored with this world anyway. It could use a bit of shaking up." He seals the pod with his elbow, then tumbles them both onto the plush, love-heart shaped bed. "Will you make me a new one to play with? We could call it a wedding present if you like." And he nibbles Rodney's ear.
"You want me to..." a calculating look crosses Rodney's face, even as he slides his hand down John's pants and gropes his ass. "Would a moon do? If it had a hollow core and an internal atmosphere?"
John shimmies down and unpops the button on Rodney's pants with his mouth. "Would it have gravity?" With his foot, John whacks the pod's auto-release lever.
The pod clangs away from the Lab and shoots off through the water at high speed.
Rodney pulls the mike out of John's ear and throws it aside, then twists his fingers in John's hair. "How about a gravity-dimmer, so we can turn it off when we want to have zero-g sex, and back up at dinner time?"
John licks the head of Rodney's cock as he thinks it over. "I've never done it in zero-g before."
Rodney: "I know, I've been making a list."
John: "A list?"
Rodney: "Of all the ways you've never done it. So far, I've got 2,433 ways listed. I can make almost half of them happen right now--well, as soon as we get to my Mountain Lair of Evil anyway--and the rest should be fully supported by the end of next financial year." He runs a fond finger down John's cheek. "I consider the list a work in progress, John, and I can always commit more resources to it, if it comes to that."
John smiles up at him. "God, Rodney. I love the way your brain works."
And then they lived in porntacular bliss for ever after [because Rodney invented immortality as a tenth anniversary present, and John was so pleased, they had zero-g sex for twenty-four hours straight, and only stopped for a break because Rodney was complaining of manly hunger]. The end.
[No! I'm not writing the crack!sex scene. Use your imaginations. Just make sure you include lime jello at a key moment. Because no crack!sex scene is really complete without the strategic inclusion of lime jello. Mmmm. John covered in lime jello. Okay, I'm stopping now.]
(On to the Offspring of the Fiendish Plan of Dr. Macabre. No mpreg was created in the making of this fic.)