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A Strange Predicament, chapter 9

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It soon became obvious to the Colonel that once 'Steve' had gotten an idea into that big, fat, pale head of his, he was not one for procrastinating.

"Look, it's late and some of us actually need to sleep to look this good, ok?" Sheppard pointed out in a somewhat sarcastic manner. His companion sneered and gave him a quick look over. The Alien's golden eyes took in dark, messy hair, two days worth of beard-stubble and a wrinkly, black shirt that had been in excellent shape only a few hours ago.

"You look quite horrible," he stated, sounding far too pleased with himself. John glared at his opponent.

"Gee, I'm touched by your concern!" he growled, rearranging one of the pillows so as to make himself more comfortable on the bed.

"Give me a few hours and I'll be fine, and then we can talk to Rodney. He's probably sleeping now, anyway."

The Wraith rolled his eyes.

"Humans," he muttered, contemptuously.

"Shut up, dung beetle," John replied, sleepily.

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At about 2.00 am the sloth named Sheppard realised he was probably not going to get any sleep tonight. 'Steve' seemed to have finally accepted the fact that humans need more rest than Wraith do – not to mention Wraith ghosts - and was unusually still. But there was simply too much going on in John's head right now. He closed his eyes and saw Rodney stagger away from him, a look of sheer terror on his face. "A Wraith? Here?" the little scientist´s voice jumped a few octaves... Sheppard growled to himself and changed position slightly, accidentally shoving the fingers of his right hand into a strand of the Wraith's long, silky hair.

"What the Hell…" he muttered, tugging to get loose. The reptile-eyes of his ghostly bed-mate instantly opened and looked straight at him. The Wraith cocked his eyebrows, his facial expression the perfect image of polite amusement.

"Oops… Sorry about that..." John mumbled, trying his best to disentangle his fingers without having to actually touch the Alien's hair more than absolutely necessary.

"God!" he added, irritably. "Ever thought of using a conditioner?"

The green skinned creature next to him bared its teeth in a menacing grin.

"What," he sneered, amused contempt evident in every word, "is a conditioner?"

The Lt Colonel rolled his eyes, wishing he'd never said anything. He did not feel that he was the right person to explain the finer details of hairdressing to a Wraith. In fact, he didn't feel as though he were the right person to explain anything to a pale-skinned, silver-haired, leather-clad... thing… Irritably, the human male shut his eyes closed and tried to think of nothing in particular. That did not work. The moment he closed his eyes, an image of himself forcibly washing the ghost's hair and pouring a whole bottle of conditioner on top of his head invaded his mind and firmly sat down, making itself at home. That in itself was not so bad, of course. But then his brain began picturing just how nice it would feel to lather that silk-like hair, and then rinse it gently, possibly massaging the Alien's scalp in the process... Now, that was a... disturbing thought. Why did such weird things pop up in his mind lately? Sleep-deprivation, maybe? Sheppard groaned to himself, doing his best to banish all thoughts of green aliens, with or without hair. This was going to be a looong night...

Meanwhile, 'Steve' was busy thinking of ways to further annoy his… 'companion'. They were supposed to be allies now, of course, working together towards a common goal. But that didn't mean he was not allowed to have a little fun, did it? The warrior smirked to himself, feeling quite pleased despite the difficulties he was facing. It would not be too hard persuading Sheppard's human friend that he was real, and he would thoroughly enjoy messing with him!

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Doctor Rodney McKay, computer whiz and self-proclaimed genius, bent down over his bed to brush away a trail of pop corn and peanut peels from the mattress. Over all, this should have been a great night, he thought. His guests had seemed to enjoy the movie, the snacks were tasty enough, there was no fighting and – best of all – that annoying Czech, Zelenka, had been far too busy to come. Not that there was anything wrong with him, once you got to know him… he was actually quite bright. Not as bright as Rodney of course, but still rather smart. Oh, well… This would indeed have been a perfect evening – and Rodney rarely experienced a perfect evening with his friends – if it hadn't been for Sheppard's weird behaviour. What the Hell was wrong with him?!

"All that blabbering 'bout a Wraith… he must've been trying to give me a friggin' heart attack!" the Good Doctor muttered, crossly. "Honestly! A Wraith here!" he snorted, while taking off his T-shirt and kicking off his shoes, all in one, not-so-swift movement.

"Hm…" He sniffed the T-shirt, then wrinkled up his face in disgust. "Ew!" The offending shirt was quickly thrown into a corner, where dirty socks, sheets and jeans eagerly awaited the Pilgrimage to the Great Washing Machine.

"I need to get a new deodorant…" the man mumbled to himself, then started taking off his socks.

"Oh, dear God!" He visibly blanched, holding out the socks in front of him while pinching them between his right forefinger and thumb.

"I could probably take out Wraith with these! Hm…" Rodney tilted his head, thoughtfully. One of the things he didn't particularly like about his job, was the unfortunate tendency it had to involve all sorts of unpleasant aliens. Aliens that betrayed you or tried to torture you… but the worst kind was the one that kept sucking the life out of people. Damn rude, it was! Not to mention scary… McKay shivered. He'd prefer mutant lemons any day!

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Sheppard was not in a good mood right now. It was 2. 30 in the morning. He had not managed to get any sleep, and after a while he had realised it was probably better to get things done instead of twisting and turning on his bed. The fact that his 'bed mate' never seemed to want to turn in the same direction as he himself added to his discomfort. So, the Lt Colonel finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. 'Steve' growled impatiently.

"I thought you were going to sleep, human?" he said, testily.

"Yeah, well… There's too much going on, I can't relax. Let's just go find Rodney, ok?" As John started looking for his crutches (they seemed to have ended up under the bed), he happened to sniff his armpit, and made a grimace. "But first we need to clean ourselves," he stated firmly. 'Steve' stared at him, his face suddenly a mask of utter defiance.

"No showering!" he said, refusing to move one inch. John groaned.

"I need to do something, ok? I smell like something that died weeks ago!" he hissed. "Do you want to scare off McKay even before we've had a chance to talk to him?"

His ghostly 'friend' sneered.

"I am not going to shower with you," he replied, stubbornly.

"What, are you afraid of getting wet?" The Colonel snapped. He began trying to get off the bed, balancing on one leg while holding on to the small table by the bunk. The Wraith warrior did nothing to help him. If it didn't sound so silly, John would have said that the creature was sulking.

"I won't be able shower anyway, what with my leg, so you needn't worry." The dark-haired human stated, supporting himself on one of the crutches with his right hand and tugging at the Wraith's free arm with the other. The ghost hissed at him, showing off his sharp teeth in all their glory. John let go of his arm, and resorted to glaring instead. A feeling of déja vu entered his mind. Damn, was he going to have to spend the rest of his life squabbling with this over-sized insect?! Maybe the same thought occurred to the Wraith, for he suddenly got up and stood with his green face a mere two inches from Sheppard's.

"You will have to find an alternative method of cleaning yourself, for I am not getting into that shower-… thing again!" he snarled, threateningly. John sighed, exasperated.

"I was just getting to that!" he remarked, testily. "I thought I'd use the basin and just wash up!" John started hobbling towards the bathroom, the spirit finally cooperating.

"But you have got to be the most irritating, ugly green bug in this Universe!" John added. 'Steve' grinned.

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Rodney McKay walked over to the window and looked out into the night. There was no sign of any moon, but the stars were quite beautiful. He sighed to himself, and took a quick look at his watch. It said 03.32 am, so it was definitely time to sleep. My, did he wish he hadn't had all that coffee earlier tonight! But, after all, what was Movie Night without coffee? He always had coffee... The doctor sighed, forcing himself to contemplate the one thing that was really bothering him: Sheppard's strange behaviour. Of course there were no Wraith here. John wasn't quite himself, right? Rumour had it he'd been acting strange all day. Rodney could well believe it, after what he'd seen and heard tonight! But still… the mere thought of one of those pale, life-sucking monsters made him want to hide under the bed and not come out for a century or so. No, he really did not want to think about this right now! Suppressing a shudder, he turned and took a good look at his bedroom. Sure, it was a bit messy now, but that would soon be taken care of. Once he'd vacuumed the floor and opened the window, the place would be tolerable again. But that would have to wait until morning, he decided and started taking off his pants, humming to himself. Hm, these boxers were kind of sexy! Too bad he had no girlfriend to show them to… Rodney started swinging his hips to the tune that had, mysteriously, gotten into his head earlier that evening.

"I´m too sexy for my shirt... Hum-dum-dum... so sexy that it hurts..." he sang, shaking his butt to the rhythm.

"Is this a bad time?" Sheppard´s ironic voice tore through the melody, making the little man jump with surprise.

"John!"

"Because if it is, I can always come back later," the Colonel pointed out. "Maybe when you've put on some clothes…?"

Now that 'Steve' had watched Austin Powers, he had some inkling as to what the ritual humans called 'dancing' was. Apparently it meant that a group of individuals began moving to the rhythm of the dreadful noise they called 'music', and sometimes the humans in question started taking off their clothes. Why they did that he had no idea, but he had a feeling it might have something to do with their becoming too hot and needing to cool down. It all seemed quite pointless to the Wraith. If they wanted exercise they should practice their hunting skills instead. That would be a useful way of spending one's time! And it would make them more interesting prey… Now, here was this weak human male who could definitely use some exercise, and what was he doing? 'Steve' felt a strong urge to jump him and feed on him right away, just to prove his point. He opened and clenched his fist, earning a stern look from his human 'companion'. Ah, yes. This McKay-person was supposed to be useful… no feeding, then. Not even a little bit… the green-skinned alien groaned to himself and glared at the ceiling.

John had a difficult task in front of him. As Rodney started putting on a pair of pants, babbling furiously about "privacy" and "knocking", Sheppard was trying his best to come up with a way to inform his scientist friend of the situation and actually convince him that it was true. Despite all the 'brain storming' he and that green, smartass Alien had done, they had not been able to agree on a plan to make McKay believe what was actually going on. The Colonel didn't want to freak his friend out more than necessary, while the Wraith seemed to think that the more they scared the little man, the better. Sheppard had a feeling 'Steve' really liked scaring people. This was not a trait the Lt Colonel particularly liked, and it had taken him about half an hour just to convince the ghost that he should be in charge of…er, 'Operation Convince Doctor McKay'. And now he had no idea as to how to continue.

"Er… look, Rodney, I've got something I need to talk to you about…" he began, ruffling his dark hair absentmindedly, making it stand up like some kind of bush. He was interrupted by his now properly dressed friend.

"It's kind of late, and you really should've knocked, and there are these rumours about you, no offence, but you don't seem quite yourself, all that talk about a Wraith…" Rodney said in one breath, staring nervously at his comrade and gesticulating rather awkwardly.

"Erm, yeah, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. See, there's this ghost…"

"There's a ghost now?! Aw, come on!" McKay suddenly appeared annoyed. Uh-oh, thought John, now he'll never shut up and I won't get to say a word…

"Honestly, John, this is kind of... no offence, but there aren't any ghosts. It's just... imagination. You know?" Rodney's voice had become softer now, and he looked quite anxious as he slowly walked up to his friend.

"Did you... have a bad dream, or something? 'Cause that can happen, especially here, what with all those aliens popping about and..."

"No, Rodney." The Lt Colonel replied, calmly. "I haven't had a bad dream. Unless you count my life these last couple of days..." he glared at his ghostly comrade-in-misery who leered back at him, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Oh..." the scientist looked slightly worried. If there was a science problem that needed solving in a far too short time, Rodney was the Man. But this did not seem as that type of problem, he thought.

"Look, I'm... er, sorry you've had a hard time, but there's one thing that doesn't change, no matter what: There are no ghosts." The doctor stubbornly clang to this thought, the one thing that he was entirely sure of in this very situation. "No ghosts. That's superstition," he stated.

"Rodney..." Sheppard began, but it was evident that his friend had already made up his mind on the topic, for John was immediately interrupted:

"Maybe you should... hm, talk to someone?" The little scientist reached out a hand and clumsily patted his pal on the shoulder. The latter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I'm trying to do here," he explained, exasperated.

"Yes, well... I was thinking more along the lines of... a professional. That kind of someone. You know?" McKay was beginning to look ill at ease again. "You know... someone who can tell you that... this ghost thing is not real..." McKay's voice trailed off as he saw the look on John's face. "Just a thought!" he added, nervously."You don't have to..."

The Wraith was beginning to feel bored. There seemed to be no end to this McKay-human's babbling, and 'Steve' wasn't keen on babbling. He never had been. While he was alive, he'd occasionally happened to run across a prey that wouldn't stop talking. Annoying, it was. He especially remembered a female who had begun gibbering about how she couldn't possibly die, since her knitting was not finished yet. It didn't seem to occur to her that he would not be interested in knitting, whatever that was. Humans were indeed strange. And why did it take so long for his irritating companion to reveal the truth to the scientist? Should he perhaps take matters into his own talons? The thought was indeed tempting...

"I'm not going to see that crazy Heightmeyer-woman again!" John stated, his voice cold. "And I'm telling you, as crazy as it may seem, that there is in fact a ghost here. In this very room! You know me, Rodney, I'm not superstitious!"

A writing pad that had been lying on the bed about a yard from John suddenly made a leap into the air, missed Rodney' left temple by an inch or so, and landed on the floor by the window. The little man's mouth opened wide and he let out a small whimper.

"Shit, Steve, I had things under control!" Sheppard yelled and glared furiously at his silver-haired 'friend'. 'Steve' smirked.

"It did not seem like it," he pointed out, raising an eye brow. John started to say something, but cut himself short as he saw the look on the little doctor's face. McKay was staring at the pad, his face pale and his mouth still ajar. And then, before either Wraith or Human could react, Dr Rodney McKay quietly slumped onto the floor. For a second, there was complete silence.

"Oh, crap!" John muttered.