sga_saturday | Fic:Not Quite a Rabbit's Foot (pg-13)

Title: Not Quite a Rabbit's Foot
Author:

melagan
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Crowd
Beta:

mischief5 mistakes=mine
word count: ~ 1760
Summary: Set early season two, the team encounters a good luck charm – Pegasus style

This should be a piece of cake, John thought. Beautiful day, easy offworld meet and greet with proven friendlies, and some excellent eats in the near future. While the ache of Ford's absence still lingered, John couldn't be happier at how Ronon had settled in with the team. The good vibe lasted until Rodney opened his mouth.

"Hmm," Rodney looked up from his scanner and looked around at the gathering crowd. Not so much a crowd as a group of townspeople and not so much a town as a muddy village. "Hmm."

"What is it, McKay?" John asked.

"This is supposed to be a simple meet and greet. One of those, how are you doing since the last time we here things that Elizabeth likes so much, am I right?"

"Yes, Rodney," Teyla answered, arching an amused eyebrow. "As I recall, we could only get you to come with us by reminding you of their local barbeque."

John rocked up on his toes. "Closest thing to a Hawaiian luau we've run across in this galaxy. All they're missing are the grass skirts." At Ronon's interested expression, John added, "Promise to take you to one, when we get back to Earth, big guy."

Rodney scowled. "Leave it to you to bring up leggy grass-skirted dancers, Colonel, and completely miss the point."

"Which is?" John asked.

"Take a closer look at everyone here. Notice anything out of the ordinary?"

"There is something vaguely familiar…" John said, peering at the closest group.

"Yes, I see. They all have…" Teyla paused, looking to Ronon for help.

Ronon stepped up, grabbed John by his wrist where he wore the sweatband, and held it up in front of his face. "They're all like you."

"Wha…? I don’t…" John looked at the people milling around the stalls, bargaining or buying depending on the wares. That wasn't strange; they saw that kind of thing often enough. Low-tech but effective economy.

"Look closer," Rodney, insisted.

Every adult and child wore a wristband of sorts. Some it seemed were made of leather, others fabric, and others looked like a cord or ribbon wrapped securely around their wrists. And in every case, if they were not the color black, they were as close as the wearer could mimic.

"Oh." John looked sheepishly at his team. "That's really weird."

"Yes – oh. Rodney snapped. "But why?"

"What do you think it means?" Teyla asked.

"Besides weird? Maybe it's some kind of ritual," Ronon shrugged. He flashed a grin at John. "Or punishment. You can never tell with this kind of thing."

"Stop." Rodney held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it if you're about to suggest this is some kind of John Sheppard hero worship."

"Hey, what's wrong with that?" John protested. "That would be cool."

Rodney glared at John. "Teyla, would you please see if you can find out what's going on? With the colonel's luck, they'll turn out to be some kind of wannabe self-sacrificing groupies and you know how well that's likely to work out."

"I hardly think they'd involve the children in any kind of sacrifice, Rodney," Teyla said. She gave a sidelong glance in John's direction. "Although, I agree. We should find out more."

"There." Teyla pointed to a canvas structure that looked like every other one around it. The only difference John could see was a blue and white flag tied to the top of a pole near the entrance. "Halling's half-brother, Dralyn, has his wares for sale there. He'll help us."

"Knives?" Ronon asked hopefully.

"Not usually. He specializes in leather goods." She held up a hand to halt their progress. "I recommend you think about something you'd like to purchase from him before we get there. A knife sheath perhaps?"

Ronon appeared to give this thought. Rodney frowned, and John absolutely did not fantasize about long, soft, leather strips he could tie Rodney to the bed with. That would be wrong. And distracting. Besides, they didn't have that kind of relationship. They were teammates. That's all, and god, how did this day suddenly get so depressing?

As they approached the tent, the crowd parted around them. Not your usual stepping aside either. This was stepping aside with intent. The hairs rose on the back of John's neck. "Anyone else get the feeling we have an audience?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "And why wouldn't we, Colonel Oblivious? They're all probably trying to figure out what to mimic next. Let's just hope it's not your hair. Not unless you're planning a little side project of black-market Brylcream."

"I think you're just jealous," John said. "I bet if everyone were running around with mock datapads and worshiping coffee, you'd sing a different tune."

"I don't worship coffee…I just appreciate… why am I even talking to you?" Rodney gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, let's just follow the others inside and see if Teyla found out anything, okay?"

Expecting he'd need to let his eyes adjust to the gloom, John was surprised to find the inside of the tent light and airy. Shafts of sunlight filtered through openings in the canvas and they could clearly see Dralyn's wares spread out on a long bench in front of them. Belts, sacks of various sizes, scabbards, and wrappings were on display.

"Doing a brisk trade in wrist bindings today," Dralyn said, smiling expansively. "Can I interest any of you in one?"

"We have the original right here." Rodney dragged John forward. "I don't suppose you could tell us what the attraction is?"

"Colonel Sheppard! This is indeed an honor. When I saw Teyla, I'd hoped you would be here as well. Please, all of you, take any item you like. My gift to you in honor of your legendary bravery."

"Yes, about that, Dralyn –" Teyla began.

"She means," Rodney interrupted, "why is everyone gussied up like the Colonel's shadow?"

"Gussied…up?" Dralyn looked baffled.

"McKay means, why does everyone have a band on their wrist like Sheppard." Ronon's hand rested easy on the hilt of his gun. "It better be a good answer."

Dralyn held his hands up wide and smiled, "It is. Very good."

~*~

Rodney held a can of beer out to John and sat down next to him on the pier. The stars were brilliant in the night sky and he took a few minutes just to enjoy the view and to make sure John took a good long swallow of beer. "So," he finally said, turning to John, "how do you feel about your machismo being used for profit?"

The velocity of beer spewing out into the air was quite impressive.

"My what!?"

"Machismo, boldness, bravery in the ugly face of a wraith queen, that kind of thing." Rodney grinned into his beer can."

"Well, I admit it was disappointing to find out Dralyn played the whole thing to sell his goods. But you know, I did escape from the hive ship and I rescued Teyla and Ronon to boot," John said with a smirk.

"I saw those hive ships destroy each other. I can't figure out how anyone could have even known about it." Rodney gave John a nod. "Very clever getting them to fire on each other by the way."

"Thanks. I just wish I could have rescued Ford too."

Wordlessly, Rodney handed John another beer.

"He could have escaped in time. Maybe. We did."

"You did." Rodney leaned so that his shoulder brushed against John's. "It would explain how Dralyn and his people knew about your escape from the Wraith queen. After all, someone must have told them and we know it wasn't the crew of the Daedalus."

"I still can't believe that haggler used something like this old wristband and turned it into a …a…um…"

"Heroic symbol for profit?"

"Don't go there, Rodney, it's creepy. Almost as creepy as Neera."

"Hmm, well it is a bit like selling white cowboy hats. No one really believes wearing one is suddenly going make you a hero. It just makes other people think you're one of the good guys."

John hiccupped. "At least you didn't say Superman's tights. Thank you very much for that."

"You brain is a strange place, Sheppard." Rodney paused. "There is something else we need to think about and that's how fast gossip travels in this galaxy. We're gone from a galaxy where the Stargate is hush-hush to a galaxy where word of mouth is two steps away from any planet. We're not used to thinking on that level. Yes, I admit it, not even me."

A look of horror crossed John's face.

"The wristband mania probably won't spread."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Okay, yes. I have no idea how many people will start wearing the John Sheppard Wristband of Survival. By tomorrow, it could be everyone on every planet in Pegasus for all I know."

John sighed. "Way to help, Rodney."

"Let's talk about something else then. What did you pick out of Dralyn's basket?"

"Maybe this isn't a good time," John's voice dropped and he refused to look Rodney in the eye.

"John?"

"Okay, maybe it is time I said something. Hold out your wrist, Rodney."

Puzzled but willing to play along, Rodney did just that. John wrapped a soft narrow band of dark leather around his wrist, his fingers gentle but firm against Rodney's sensitive skin. He looped it only once letting the long ends of it hang free.

"You –"

"Yeah, me," John answered back softy. "If this thing's got any luck at all attached to it, I want you to have it too. Um, you're supposed to wrap it more times. I could help you with that."

Rodney stared the binding on his wrist. It couldn't be an accident that the ends were long enough to tie a person to a bedpost. If one had such a bed. Pieces of a puzzle began to fall into place. Looks, touches, and John's endearing smile that no one else ever saw. Rodney swallowed hard.

"Yes. I'd like you to, I mean I'd like to…" He paused, damning his fair completion as the heat rose up to his cheeks. He trusted John. He certainly trusted John to keep him safer than any luck charm possibly could. What did he have to lose? He would say this, with all the implications attached, and oh, he had no doubt John would get every implication.

Bravely, Rodney laid his bound wrist over John's and asked. "I don't suppose you took a full set of these?"

~~*~~