Fic: No Precious Time (No Precious Time Series, 1/28)
Title: No Precious Time (No Precious Time Series, 1/28)
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially LJ user lapislaz, LJ user mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.



Being your slave what should I do but tend,
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love, that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.
- Shakespeare, Sonnet LVII

It was two months before one of their contacts finally led them to the slave brothels of P4G-627, where they found Colonel Sheppard languishing with a group of pretty boys and sultry women dressed in sleek, tight clothing that promised everything and revealed just enough to whet the customers' appetites. It was early and they were the first "customers" in the brothel.

"Sheppard!" Rodney called.

The Colonel's head turned and his eyes widened slightly. His pupils were dilated and he didn't appear to be focusing. He smiled. "Hey, handsome. What's your pleasure?"

Teyla and Ronon exchanged concerned looks. Rodney stepped to Sheppard's couch and took his face in his hands. "Sheppard?"

"Hey! Hands off unless you're paying. And that one costs extra," the brothel owner growled. "He's one of our most popular."

"Colonel? It's McKay."

Sheppard smiled blankly. "Are you a regular?" he asked, unsure. "Blowjobs?"

"Didn't you hear me? I said hands off unless you're paying!"

Rodney let go of the Colonel's face and stood, turning to face the owner. "Of course." His smile was cold as he turned to Ronon. "Ronon, give the man what he deserves."

Ronon grunted and nodded. His gun was out in a flash and then the brothel owner was staring dumbly at the gaping hole in his chest before tumbling to the floor.

It was a testament to the drugs coursing through the slaves' systems that not one of them screamed. Sheppard merely blinked and stared at the smoking remains of the man who had claimed to be his owner and then gave them a confused look. "Why did you do that?"

"Come on, Colonel. We're taking you home," Rodney said, his words strangely gentle when his eyes were flashing fire.

"Home?" the Colonel asked, glancing around him.

"Your real home," Ronon said.

"Okay," Sheppard said agreeably, standing and slinking into Rodney's personal space, slipping arms around him. "Is it just going to be the two of us, or are your friends there joining us?"

Rodney grabbed Sheppard's arm and pulled it forward as his hand dipped to Rodney's ass. "Please, Colonel. Just come with us."

"What about them?" Ronon asked, nodding to the other equally drugged-out slaves.

Rodney looked around the room. Dull eyes stared at him vacantly or gave him confused smiles-- half fear and half seduction. "Shit!" he swore.

***

Elizabeth rubbed at the space between her eyes. "Since when did we become the Atlantis Abolitionist Society?"

"Since they kidnapped Sheppard," Ronon growled.

"What were we supposed to do?" Rodney asked. "We couldn't very well leave them."

"No... No, I suppose you couldn't." Elizabeth glanced around at the shuffling former slaves staring dumbfounded at the gateroom. A prettyboy gave her a smile, posing. "Excuse me? How old are you?" she asked.

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

His forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Old enough."

"How old?"

"Um... fifteen, I think..."

"No wonder Sheppard was popular..." Rodney muttered.

Elizabeth's fists clenched, her eyes closing. "Okay. You did the right thing, Rodney. Excuse me."

They stood and watched her stride away quickly into her office and settle into her desk chair before burying her head in her hands.

Rodney let out a surprised yelp as someone fondled his ass. He spun around and took in Sheppard giving him a seductive look. "So, is there a room somewhere you can take me to, or are you into the public thing?"

***

Rodney watched Carson expertly dodge an overfriendly hand as he flicked his penlight into a woman's eyes. He shook his head and noted something on a handheld, then caught another swipe at him and gently but firmly placed her hand back on the bed. Carson finished with his exam and walked over to Rodney.

"How are they?" Rodney asked.

Carson shrugged. "We're still analysing their blood for drugs to understand what long-term effects they might have." He turned and surveyed the infirmary. "I just hope to God withdrawal isn't too bad."

Rodney shivered at the thought of the over-taxed Atlantis infirmary handling that many patients going through withdrawal at once. "Sorry."

Carson squeezed his arm and then leaned in and gave him a quick peck. "It's all right, love. Ye did what was necessary."

"Oh, so that's why Rodney's been ignoring me," a familiar voice said. "Already getting some."

"Colonel, I need you to return to your bed," Carson said.

Sheppard's eyes slid down Carson's form as he smiled slowly. "Okay, sweetcheeks. Don't take too long..."

"Oh, God," Rodney said as soon as the Colonel was out of earshot. "'Sweetcheeks'? What the hell did they do to him?"

Carson sighed. "We don't know, Rodney. But odds are good it's some form of behaviour modification."

"By which you mean torture or brainwashing."

Carson bit his lip and nodded. "Like as not, yes."

Rodney looked over to where Sheppard was smiling that artificial seductive smile at Doctor Cortes. There was no inkling of recognition in the Colonel's eyes. "We have to bring him back, Carson."

Carson nodded. "We will, love. We will."

***

"Your turn, Colonel," Carson said, nodding toward one of the private rooms where they were doing more thorough exams.

John rolled off the bed and followed Carson. "Oh, kinky!" he said as he took in the raised stirrups on the exam table. "I guess maybe that Rodney guy isn't doing it for you, then?"

Carson handed him a blanket. "I'm not discussing my love life with you, Colonel. I need you to strip and get on the table for me. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You're not going to stay?"

"This is a medical exam, Colonel, not something prurient."

John pressed himself up against Carson, smelling of promises. "You make it sound so dirty." He smiled seductively, fingers skating along Carson's arm. "I like dirty."

Carson pushed him away, looking a little flushed. "Just professional, Colonel."

Biro raised an eyebrow when Carson stepped out of the room and heaved a sigh. "Problem?"

"I want the real Colonel Sheppard back," he muttered.

***

Carson backed out of the exam room, Sheppard pressed against him, fighting to keep John's hands from roaming. "Please, Colonel!"

"God, I need you, Carson," John whimpered, voice pitched low and seductive. "Please, fuck me... fuck my ass. God, it would be so good! Or feed me your cock and let me swallow you down. You know you want to..."

"Colonel Sheppard!" Carson yelped breathlessly. "If you need to take care of... problems, I'll leave you some privacy to do it alone."

"Alone?" John pouted, reaching for Carson, who back-pedalled away from him. "Alone's no fun."

"Alone or I have you restrained," Carson insisted.

John actually shivered at the word "restrained."

"John!"

Sheppard's eyes, dilated and somewhat fevered, met Carson's. For a moment, Carson thought he saw a glimmer of recognition. A look of confusion passed over John's face before the hazy look fell over his eyes again. "Okay," John said, pouting, and turned, muttering, "Goddammed cocktease!"

***

"Mpf?" Rodney stirred as Carson slipped into the bed behind him.

"Just me, love," Carson whispered. "I'm taking a wee break. Have to be back in the infirmary in a couple hours."

"Hm," Rodney answered sleepily, snuggling back against him. "Mmm!"

Carson moaned softly as Rodney's delectable ass snugged up against his erection. "I need to sleep. I'm exhausted."

"Not every part of you is."

Carson sighed. "I swear they've got some sort of pheromones going along with the lewd posing, groping, and sex talk."

"Maybe you just need to take the edge off before you sleep," Rodney suggested, wiggling.

"Cheeky bugger!" Carson sniped, even as he slipped Rodney's boxers down.

***

When Carson walked back into the infirmary, it was to the sounds of moans and whimpers and begging. The worst came from a young man who seemed to only know that his name was Prio, he was somewhere around 20, and he liked cock. He was restrained, thrashing around in his bed, gasping and begging Dr. Cortes in lurid detail.

"Don't touch him," Cortes warned. "That only seems to make it worse."

Carson looked over his vitals, frowning. His heart rate and breathing were wild and erratic. "It looks like we might need to risk sedating him."

"He already is," Cortes said.

"Bloody hell! What can we do?" Carson asked no one in particular.

"Fuck me!" Prio practically screamed at him. "Please. Please!"

"I'm sorry, son," Carson said gently, starting to reach out to the man, but stopping himself.

"Of all the prudes!" a familiar voice exclaimed behind him. "Help him!"

Carson turned to take in John in red scrubs before he was pushed aside and John was undoing Prio's restraints. "Colonel, what do you think you're--?"

"It's okay," John soothed. "Let me help you."

Prio reached out almost blindly and yanked John into his bed, their lips meeting in desperate kisses, bodies already moving against each other.

Carson stared in shock. The Marine guard turned away. And then the two men on the bed were gasping as one, faces frozen in pleasure, the monitors going wild.

Prio murmured and collapsed back on his pillow, hand tracing John's face. Within a minute, his heart rate was normal, the desperation gone out of him.

John kissed him tenderly and then slid from the bed, unconcerned for the wet stain spreading across his crotch. He gave Carson an accusing glare. "You can't let it go so long. It's too much pain."

***

"Well, as the saying goes, I've got good news and bad news," Carson said, glancing around the table at the people gathered there. "The good news is that the colonel is in relatively good health-- no serious injuries, weight about normal for him--"

"Which is to say too damned skinny," Rodney muttered.

"-- and I expect won't have too much difficulty withdrawing from the drugs they had him on," Carson finished as if Rodney hadn't spoken.

"Have you determined what the drug is?" Elizabeth asked.

Carson nodded. "The slaves were given a cocktail of drugs, actually-- mostly psychotropic drugs intended to make the slaves more compliant and happy, though there was also a substance I've seen here and there in the Pegasus touted as an aphrodisiac, and a painkiller."

"A painkiller?" Lorne asked, looking a little pale at the thought.

Carson nodded. "But, it's likely not for what you're thinking. I'll get to that in a minute. As far as we can tell based on hair and fingernails, he's been on these drugs for most of the time he's been gone, so he is addicted. But, it's going to be much easier for him than for some of these slaves who've been on this cocktail since their early teens. I believe once we get him off the drugs, his memory will likely return, though probably slowly. It's going to take some time."

Elizabeth nodded, visibly relaxing.

"That's the good news. Unfortunately, that's not the whole medical situation." Carson turned his laptop around, showing a picture of something that looked like a cross between a lunar lander and a blender. "This is the bad news."

Rodney considered the picture for a second. "A virus?" he asked.

Carson nodded. "A virus. This little bugger infects nerve tissue, making the victim super-sensitive to sensation-- taste, smell, hearing, vision, and touch, including not just pleasure, but pain. It also appears to cause pain itself. This pain and sensitivity are blunted by endorphins, but as the endorphins lessen, the sensitivity and pain increase."

"And Colonel Sheppard has this virus?" Elizabeth asked.

"All the slaves we rescued have this virus. It's one reason why they're so anxious to seek sexual relations-- the endorphin high from intercourse makes the pain go away."

"How convenient for the brothel owners," Rodney said. "Shoot someone up with this virus, let it infect them fully, and you've got an instant pleasure slave."

Carson nodded. "Indications are it's an artificial virus, but it's completely beyond the capabilities of these people. In fact, if I had to guess, I'd say it was Ancient in design."

"That doesn't seem likely," Elizabeth said.

"You put way too much faith in the good nature of the Ancients, Elizabeth," Rodney said. "Even if most of them were saints, it only takes one bad apple to make a virus like this."

"One that's affecting Colonel Sheppard ten thousand years or more after it was created," Carson said.

"Can you cure it?" Elizabeth asked.

Carson's eyes met hers. "I don't know. We've tried a few antiviral treatments and they've had no impact at all."

"I'll get a team going through the database looking for mentions of this thing," Rodney said.

Elizabeth nodded. "Good. We all want the John Sheppard we've come to know and trust back. Let's make it so, gentlemen."