a sticky situation

SG-15. Inter-galactic explorers. Men of honor. Men of wisdom. Men of courage.

Well...inter-galactic explorers.

These fine men of inter-galactic exploration were kneeling on the ground, hands tied behind their backs as the Amazon-like warrior women surrounded them, casting their judgmental eyes on the strangers.

The head of the tribe stepped forward, dressed in a leather skirt, metal breast-plate and knee-length boots. In her hand she held a long, sharp spear, a mask of feathers over half her face, her lips a disdainful pout.

"You have desecrated our holiest shrine. You must be punished. Who will accept the charges from amongst you?" she asked, looking down at the four men.

"Uh...could we have a moment, please?" Dave asked.

The woman gave a tilt of the head.

Dave waited for his hands to be untied or something, but obviously they weren't getting much of a moment. The four men shuffled on their knees until they were facing each other. John looked slightly worried, Martouf calm and Rodney like he was about to have an embolism. So far, everything was pretty normal.

"Okay..." Dave started.

"I swear to god, if you say you have a plan, I'm just going to fling myself on her spear," Rodney said.

"Hey, it's a good plan," Dave said, wounded.

Martouf frowned. "But, we did not bring our grenades today."

Dave snorted. "What kind of caveman do you take me for? Look, here's the plan. They're chicks, right?"

"Yes, well done. I can see why you're the colonel," Rodney said.

"Rodney!" John snapped.

"Look," Dave continued, shuffling a little closer. "They're girls. We're guys. One of us goes over there, turns on the charm and sweet talks our asses out of here. It's fool proof."

"Well, I pity the fool who falls for it. Seriously! I pity the fool!" Rodney snapped.

"Well, you got a better plan, Miss Doom and Gloom?" Dave asked.

"No, but if I did, it would involve a little more effort than going up there and saying, 'hello, me Tarzan, you Jane'," Rodney said with a small emphatic nod.

"It's our only plan, so shut up and get with the program," Dave hissed. "Right. I figure the prettiest one of us goes up there and gives it a shot."

Martouf nodded. "Who do you suggest?"

"Not you, you're too pretty," Dave said with a nod. Martouf smiled, and looked away, a little embarrassed.

Then they all turned to look at John. John frowned. "Okay, I'm thinking that would be a bad idea. They're pretty pissed off at me."

"Well, they did discover you and Rodney in their shrine, John. You'll agree it was not the most appropriate place to be-"

"We get the point, thank you," Rodney cut Martouf off.

Dave began to laugh, a low dirty laugh. "In a temple? Man, you guys are such whores."

"Sir, what I'm trying to say here is, I don't think they'll fall for my charm," John said, flushed and too embarrassed to even look at Rodney.

"Come on! Look at you. You got that bed head thing going on, which McKay's probably got something to do with. You're tall, lean and you sound drunk a lot of the time. Hell, son, you're making me horny! You get over there and try some of that stuff on those women," Dave said.

"Sir, flattered as I am that I make you horny, that same woman threatened to cut off my favorite parts. I really don't think my coming on to her is going to help us out of this situation," John explained.

Dave sighed, shaking his head. Then he slowly looked up at Rodney who already had a narrow-eyed, disdainful expression prepared.

"Forget it," Rodney said.

"What?" Dave asked.

"I was at the temple, remember? I don't even have the Sheppard hair to fall back on," Rodney whispered.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Rumor has it, you got a nice ass, and that always goes down well with the ladies and I guess you're not so bad looking either, you know, in a Renaissance kind of way," Dave said with a shrug.

Rodney stared. "Are you on crack?"

"Just trying to compliment you, McKay. Jeez, give a guy break will ya?" Dave said with a roll of the eyes.

"Look, if your plan was sane or made the remotest amount of sense, I'd gladly go up there. However, you're plan is crazy. They're always crazy. Why are you even allowed to carry a gun?" Rodney said, his voice rising and almost disappearing.

Dave gave a grunt of protest. "Okay, fine! I'll do it, just quit your nagging, you're making me crazy! And don't blame me when my lack of charm gets you all killed."

Rodney sagged, a despondent look on his face. "Well, it's not like we haven't been expecting it."

Dave was shoved into an opulent tent, decorated in rich warm colors, a bed at the far end. He looked around and frowned. Well, he figured, punishment could be carried out anywhere.

A woman they hadn't met before walked into the tent, wearing a long black robe. Her dark hair fell on her shoulders in thick curls. Her eyes were equally dark and her full lips held a strange smile.

She circled Dave, looking him up and down as he arched an eyebrow in her direction.

"I am Lyla," she said. "You are here to accept blame for your men?"

"Well, someone's gotta do it, might as well be me," Dave answered with a shrug.

"Even after we explained our customs to you, you are not afraid?"

"No, Sir. Haven't spent all this time going crazy for nothing." Dave gave a sharp nod.

"You are very intriguing."

"Been called worse."

"Your friends will be punished."

"Isn't that why I'm here?"

Lyla smiled coyly. "It is a brave man that accepts blame for others."

"Yeah? My daddy always said it was a stupid man."

"You are most pleasant to look at. And brave. You would be good for breeding."

Dave frowned. "You calling me a dog?"

Lyla laughed, her fingers lightly dancing over the opening of her robe. A moment later, the robe lay pooled around her feet and Dave was staring unashamedly at a whole lot of naked lady.

"Come," she said, beckoning him towards the bed.

"You don't put that robe back on, I just might," Dave said, still staring.

"Share my bed," Lyla said, her voice a whisper.

Dave shook his head and looked at her face. "What the hell kind of a whore do you take me for? I got morals, mister!"

"You do not desire me?" Lyla was sitting on the bed, patiently waiting.

"I got a hell of a lot of those, but if you think I'm some kind of easy, forget about it."

"Then your answer is no?"

"Damn straight! Something always goes wrong with you alien women. Trust me, I'm talking from experience," Dave said, nodding his head as he thought of the numerous times it all went wrong.

Lyla sighed and got up from the bed. She walked up to Dave, her skin tanned and looking warm to the touch. She stood in front of Dave and smiled mischievously. He looked down at her with a suspicious frown as she put her hands on his shoulders and then proceeded to climb onto the tips of his boots so she could reach up for a kiss.

Dave didn't figure himself to be a complicated guy. Flawed? Sure. Complicated? Not so much.

Slipping his tongue into the sweet warmth of her mouth, he bent down slightly and swept Lyla's legs from under her, proceeding to carry her to the bed. Not because he was easy, but because he was trying to save his team.

They were suspended from a metal grid, in similarly metal girdles over a pit of hot lava. All three men were hanging limp, their faces pink from the heat and their hair plastered to their foreheads. Every now and then, a random member of the tribe delivered a drive-by pelting of rotten fruit.

Rodney jerked in his girdle. "Oh god, I think I just got hit by a lemon."

John looked across at Rodney, as he hung there, drained of energy. "It's a tomato."

Rodney sighed. "This is the worst mission ever."

"Rule number one-thousand and one. No more making out offworld," John mumbled.

"This is like having an atomic wedgie," Rodney said, trying to shift in the girdle.

Rodney and John turned to look at Martouf as they heard another woman launch a projectile. Martouf caught the fruit in his hand and dropped it into the lava pit.

"Are you sure we cannot discuss the root of your problem with us?" Martouf called out politely.

Another projectile was launched and it hit John in the side of the head. He opened his mouth, stunned a little and then grimaced. Rodney kicked his legs in the air, trying to move closer to John and removed the gunky fruit from John's hair.

"Thanks," John said miserably.

"They are a very complicated people," Martouf said with a nod.

Dave emerged from the tent and took a long stretch, a grin on his face. He popped a cigar in his mouth and waved to his waiting team.

They all stood with their packs and their jackets in their hands, looking like someone had recovered them from a septic tank. They also looked like they had spent too much time in the sun.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dave asked.

Rodney sighed. "Can we go home?"

Dave nodded, giving him a pat on the shoulder and then wiping his hand on his pant leg. "Sure thing, buddy. I got it all under control."

They watched as Dave turned around and waved at the smiling woman by the tent.

When he turned back, his team was all staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"What the hell kind of punishment did you get last night?" Rodney asked, eyes wide.

Dave grinned and then he began to laugh, cigar in mouth.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh god."

"Sex? That was the punishment?" John asked with a frown.

"Nah, more the like the reward, I guess. They kind of skipped over the punishment," Dave said with a nod.

He looked over at Martouf who seemed a little crestfallen. "You alright there, Marty?"

Martouf smiled. "Of course, Colonel. May we leave now?"

Dave nodded, giving a sympathetic smile. "Let's go home, big guy," he said, putting an arm around Martouf's shoulders and leading him away as Rodney and John followed.

"That's it," Rodney complained as they headed to the gate. "I'm moving back to Canada."

John frowned at Rodney, his mouth a thoughtful pout. "Can I come?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, but as much as he tried, he couldn't stop the small smile from appearing.

John smiled and nodded. "Cool."

- the end -