#One system won’t get to a low vacuum

[madredhattie]

shoves my head into a pillow and screams

[blinddreams24]

Glass

A Mermay Prompt

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You were shaking. A lot.

The excess magic from that candy was flooding your system and you couldn’t sleep. And there was a lot of excess.

You couldn’t bring yourself to drink coffee and you didn’t have any calming tea. The house had already been swept. Twice. The walls were clean, the windows were washed, the toilet was scrubbed, and you were sitting in your living room, bouncing your knee. Your mind was running at a thousand miles per hour and yet you still couldn’t think. You checked your phone.

It was 2am.

Had you really cleaned everything? Surely you missed something.

Your hands were twitching.

Everything looked polished. You’d even vacuumed the couch.

Your legs hurt.

Everything was dusted and mopped.

Your chest ached.

Maybe you forgot the dishes? Yeah, that was it!

You stood and paced into the kitchen where you opened a cabinet. Yeah, you hadn’t washed these. Reaching in with shaky hands you grabbed a stack of plates.

And dropped them as soon as they left the cabinet.

Shattered glass went everywhere. You immediately reached down to pick up the pieces and lifted everything you could find into the trash. You had more plates, it was fine.

Suddenly you didn’t feel like doing the dishes.

You couldn’t handle it. You had to do something. Or calm yourself down.

Maybe stargazing again?

The car keys found their way into your hands and you were off. It took forever to get there and no time at all. You hurried down the hill to your alcove, which was mostly flooded with the tide, and paced at the waters edge.

In your hurry, you’d forgotten your scuba gear. Not that it was smart to swim after dark but you weren’t smart right now.

The wind howled around you, threatening a storm, and the waves beckoned you forward. Your shoe sank into the cold water.

A familiar deep whistle split the air, making you suddenly aware of how close you were to the water. When you stepped back the whistle stopped.

A bright red orb floated over the water.

You stumbled back, tripped over your own feet, and landed on your butt. “H-H-Hey, b-big guy!” You stuttered and scrambled for your bag. When you couldn’t find it, you realized that in your scramble to get moving you hadn’t brought any food. “I-I d-don’t have f-f-food right n-now, b-buddy! B-But I c-can go g-get some!” You gestured a thumb over your shoulder.

He came out of the water towards you.

Oh stars, you were gonna die. He was gonna kill you.

You turned to run but didn’t even get to your feet before a tentacle wrapped around your leg.

“N-No! P-Please! Sir! I c-c-can get y-you m-more f-f-food! Please!” You gripped the loose rocks and tried to pull yourself away from the mass of muscle.

The whistle started again.

Fear and urgency left you, but you were still very aware of the danger you were in. “S-S-Sir. P-Please. I d-don’t w-w-want to d-die. P-Please.” Your voice was tired and jittery at the same time.

The siren pulled you closer until you were almost against his chest. He made a shushing gesture at you and reached towards you.

You closed your eyes, anticipating the giant’s hand to break your neck or something. You didn’t want to die, but there was nothing you could do.

Your eyes shot back open when he started petting your hair. What was he doing? You looked up at him.

He smiled kindly at you and let his low whistle fade to a stop. “You’re… okay.” He drawled slowly, as if the words were hard for him. “I won’t… hurt.. you.” With that said he turned his attention to your hand.

Still shocked, you followed his gaze. The eerie red light of his eye lit up multiple cuts and bits of glass in your hands.

“O-Oh.” Was all you could say.

He carefully held your hand steady and… started picking the glass out of your hand.

You stared openly, completely uncaring of if it was rude. “Y-Y-You-?”

“Shh.” A huge finger shushed you. “…Working.” He seemed very focused.

He was really picking the glass out of your hand. Just because. Surely that one day wasn’t enough to form a bond with the siren.

Carefully and patiently, he picked each and every piece of glass out of your hands. Your excess magic surged into your hands to heal the cuts once he was finished.

“Done.” He hummed. “Now, I can… give… answers.”

You didn’t hesitate. “W-Why a-are you helping-g m-m-me?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “You… helped… first.”

“I h-h-helped you?”

He nodded.

“H-How?”

“Food. Hungry. Hard to… catch…… normal.. prey.” He grumbled.

You blinked. “Were y-you st-st-starving?”

After a few moments, he nodded.

“Aren’t y-you p-p-part of a p-pod? Don’t your… f-friends h-help y-y-you?”

He shook his head. “Only… Nightmare. But… Boss’s… sleeping. Sleeps long… Very long…”

“C-Cross a-and K-K-Killer d-don’t help y-you?” You were starting to hate this energized stutter.

He looked you in the eyes with a desperation you’d never seen before. He shook his head.

“I-I’m th-the only p-person to h-help you? B-Besides N-Nightm-mare?”

Nod.

“W-Well.” You held out a hand. “I-I’m y/n. I-It’s n-nice to of-f-fficially m-meet you. S-Sorry f-f-for yelling-g a-at you earlier.”

He grabbed and inspected your hand before letting you go. “…Name’s Horror.” He leaned in towards your face as you tried not to lean away. “You have… too much magic…”

You laughed nervously and dry. “Y-Yeah. K-Killer gave m-me a c-c-candy to h-heal this.” You pulled up your sleeve to show him the bite mark.

“Hmm. You… smell like him.”

“I d-don’t know w-w-what to say t-to th-that.”

“Heheheh.” He chuckled at you. “‘S not… bad. Who… bit you?”

Suddenly, the magic decided it wanted to be in your face. “Uhh… K-Killer b-bit me…”

The humor left Horror’s face. “…Oh…….. Then he… healed you?”

“Y-Yeah? E-Earlier? Yest-t-terday? W-When it was b-b-bright. B-But th-the bite d-didn’t heal… S-Something ‘bout i-intent.”

“Hmm.” Horror looked you over again. “…Did he ask you… about being… a siren?”

“B-Being a s-siren?”

He gave you an odd look. “Would you… like to… be a siren? He intended… conversion.”

“He w-what?”

The siren sighed. “The candy. Killer put… intent… to turn you into a… siren. It won’t-.”

“W-What?!?” You looked down at your legs, terrified. You couldn’t just turn into a siren! What if you turned into a siren while at your house?? You’d never make it to the water in time!

“Shh.” Horror put a finger on your mouth. “Let me… finish. It won’t turn you… into a siren. This type… of conversion… is long and… tedious. You have to… accept the change… and have… many doses of magic. The other way…” He frowned. “…is less pleasant.

“You have nothing… to be scared of. Your will can… stop the change… if you want. It takes weeks… if you choose to… convert.”

“O-Oh. So… I-I-I w-won’t turn i-into a s-siren out of n-nowhere?”

He shook his head. “Not enough… magic or consent.”

“W-Why would K-Killer d-d-do th-that?”

Horror shrugged. “Might not have… meant to. His intent’s… unstable. Maybe just meant… to keep you safe… and… unintentionally… wanted you… close.”

“Oh.” He… He wanted to keep you safe?

“……You….. wanna hug?” Horror awkwardly offered.

“I… y-yeah.” You hugged the siren.

Horror curled over your small form. He chuckled. “…Tiny.”

“N-Not you t-too!!”

[acleanpressurecleaning]

Cleaning Services Brisbane – Why External House Washes Are Important

Whether you’re preparing your home for sale, or a body corporate looking for regular pressure cleaning services, a professional external house wash can add significant value to your property. Brisbane House washing professionals are Soft Wash Australia accredited and use a low-pressure cleaning method to safely clean surfaces.

This includes the roof and gutters, windows and doors, as well as patios and rock gardens.

Roof and Gutters

One of the most Cleaning Services Brisbane jobs in any home is keeping gutters clear. Brisbane’s subtropical climate brings heavy rainfall and diverse flora that shed leaves yearround, making it easy for gutters to become clogged.

Blocked gutters prevent rainwater from flowing down into the stormwater system and out to drainpipes. Instead, water flows under the tiles and into the building’s ceiling, where it can cause water damage to the ceiling, light fittings and walls.

Regular gutter cleaning is a cheap way to protect your roof and save money on expensive repairs. Qualified gutter cleaners use a high-powered vacuum cleaner to suck out debris and flush away stubborn dirt. They also check that downspouts are unblocked and work to ensure the guttering slant is properly maintained. This prevents soil erosion and minimises the risk of mosquitoes, termites and other pests taking up residence in your house. They are also trained to take the right precautions when working at heights.

Windows and Doors

Clean windows and doors are a big part of the exterior of your home. Whether you have double-paned windows or sliders, it’s important to remove window coverings and wipe down all surfaces. It’s best to start with the frames and then move onto the windows themselves. This helps to avoid dripping dirty water all over your newly cleaned panes.

It’s also a good idea to schedule your cleaning on a cloudy day. This way, the heat from the sun won’t dry your cleaning solution before you can wipe it away.

Professional cleaners have a wealth of experience, skills, and technical equipment that they can utilise to tackle even the most stubborn grime. They’re also well trained in specific techniques and methods to get the job done right. You can find top-rated cleaners near you by searching on Oneflare, which recommends businesses based on your location and the type of cleaning job you need. You can then book a service directly from their profile or via instant message.

Decks and Patios

Whether you’re looking for a way to enjoy the view of your backyard or add to the appeal of your home, a deck and patio are both excellent choices. However, keeping them clean can be a bit of a chore. This is why it’s a good idea to schedule cleaning services Brisbane for your deck and patio twice per year.

The best time for cleaning is during spring or autumn, as these are when the weather is mildest. Before you start, clear the area of containers and furniture, trim back plants that are overhanging or touching the deck and hose down the surface to remove dirt and debris.

Wooden decks are usually constructed of timber, composite or PVC decking boards and may be raised up off the ground with stairs or built low to the ground. Similarly, patios are made of paving stones and may be set on a concrete slab or low-to-theground frame.

Hard Surfaces

There is a high pressure cleaning misconception that hard surfaces, such as tabletops, countertops, kitchen appliances and doorknobs, are not susceptible to germs because they are non-porous. However, these surfaces are actually microbial breeding grounds for bacteria and viruses. It is especially important to pay attention to cleaning and disinfecting hard surfaces during this coronavirus outbreak.

During a professional deep clean, hard surfaces like tile flooring and counters are thoroughly cleaned and disinfected to remove embedded dirt and bacteria. This helps to improve indoor air quality and reduce symptoms of allergies or respiratory issues.

Experienced cleaners also have advanced tools and equipment for tackling tough cleaning jobs. They may even include insurance in their service offerings to provide additional peace of mind. You can find a reliable affordable cleaner Brisbane with the help of the easy-to-navigate Oneflare platform. It lists only top-rated and trusted cleaners in your area. Ask friends and family for recommendations or use the search tool to find a suitable cleaner near you.

[mkube-enterprise]

Properties and Different Types of Applications of Quartz Glass

Quartz Glass

Before getting into applications of Quartz glass, let’s understand what it is? Quartz Glass is made out of an abundantly dispersed mineral called Quartz. It is a common polymorph (two minerals with same chemical compositions but different formations) of silica. Quartz is used to make quartz glass (also known as fused quartz), a glass type that is known for its extreme purity. It is inactive with many chemical elements barring alkali compounds, hydrofluoric acid, and hot phosphoric acid. Other than its purity and it’s inertness with almost every chemical compounds, it has other significant qualities as well, such as –

➢ High temperature resistance – Melting point of quartz glass is slightly above 1700 ℃ so it can easily endure temperature as high as around 1100 ℃ ➢ Acid corrosion resistance – It does not react with acids other than hydrofluoric acid and hot phosphoric acid which makes it a better option than other materials like stainless steel and ceramic ➢ Remarkable thermal stability – Sudden changes in temperature won’t damage the material. If the quartz glass is heated at a high temperature, it will not break if put in room temperature water ➢ Good light transmission performance – more than 90% of the visible light spectrum from ultraviolet to infrared can pass through quartz glass showing a higher light transmission performance ➢ Excellent electrical insulation – Quartz glass is about 10,000 times more resistant to electricity than regular glass which makes it a great electrical insulator.

Aforementioned properties make quartz glass an ideal product material for optical devices, lighting systems, refractory systems, furnaces and high temperature equipments. These quartz glass products have a wide range of applications in laboratories for scientific projects, experiments, and research works.

What are applications of Quartz Glass?

Laboratories use chemicals that are reactive, flammable, volatile and require extreme temperatures. Therefore, the equipment and apparatus need to be made of materials that can bear drastic conditions without damaging the integrity of the chemical compounds to get as accurate a result as can be procured. Quartz glass’ physical and chemical attributes makes it one of the most suitable assets for laboratory devices. Quartz glass is used for optical based products such as microscopes, telescopes, lasers, electronic sensors and several other scientific instruments. Majority of laboratory work requires practical testing of elements, for example ashing chemical samples, or which utilises crucibles and tubes made up of quartz glass.

Quartz crucibles are bowl shaped vessels, usually with a lid, that stores and heat substances. The properties of quartz glass make crucibles ideal instruments in laboratories like, ashing chemical samples. Quartz tubes are hollow cylindrical devices and are used in level gauges, x-ray tubes, vacuum tubes, transfer carriers, thermocouple tubes, transfer carriers, CVD, and diffusion procedures. Quartz crucibles and tubes are apt for laboratory devices because

➢ They can survive temperatures as high as 1100 ℃. Other features that make quartz crucibles beneficial for laboratory experiments include being inert to many chemical substances, great insulators of electricity, low thermal expansion rate, good light transmission performance, and consistent quality. ➢ Quartz crucibles are available with or without lids and are available in a series of shapes and sizes like cylindrical, tray, high form, wide form, bitumen, rose, gooch, and porous bottom. Quartz tubes are available in various sizes as well that are customised as per the needs of the user.

Quartz glass can be purchased from anywhere, due to the abundant availability of the mineral. Yet before obtaining quartz glass products one must do a thorough research on the seller and quality of their products. It will ensure a productive and problem-free application of quartz glass for the intended job.

For any more information, please feel free to contact us at marketing@mkubeenterprise.co.in M-KUBE TECHNICAL SUPPORT WILL BE HAPPY TO ASSIST, AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

Source: https://mkubeenterprise.co.in/different-applications-of-quartz-glass/

[deltastark]

How To Choose The Right Conveyor System For Your Needs

In today’s fast-paced industrial landscape, optimizing efficiency and streamlining processes are paramount to success. One critical aspect of achieving these goals is to choose the right conveyor system for your specific needs. Among the various options available, understanding the advantages of belt conveyors is crucial. Whether you’re managing a manufacturing facility, a distribution center, or any operation that involves the movement of goods, selecting the most suitable conveyor system can make a substantial difference in productivity and cost-effectiveness.

In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the key factors and considerations that will empower you to make an informed decision when it comes to selecting the perfect conveyor system for your business. From conveyor types and material handling requirements to space constraints and future scalability, we’ll delve into the crucial elements that will help you make a choice that aligns perfectly with your operational goals. So, let’s embark on this journey to uncover the insights you need to choose the right conveyor system for your unique circumstances.

5 Key Factors to Consider When Selecting a Conveyor

A good conveyor system is critical for running a successful business. And here are the 5 factors to consider before you choose the perfect one!

Consider The Product & Requirements:

Before you decide, assess the product and requirements that the conveyor will transport. Choosing the right system to manage what you’re transporting is critical. You may waste a lot of space and lose efficiency by getting messed up at this juncture. For starters, consider the type of product you have in your facility. It is vital to consider the weight of what you are moving.

It may break if you don’t acquire a conveyor system to support the weight. The size of your handling, like type and weight, must be considered while selecting a conveyor device. Finally, consider the pace of conveyor systems, as the one you select must match the speed of your production.

Consider Layout:

After you have determined which types of conveyors would work best for your products and requirements, you’ll want to ensure that they will work in your workspace. No matter how well-designed a conveyor system is, it will only function well if it fits in your facility. As a result, make sure you properly plan it to fit in with your current layout. Remember that the manufacturing line plan should consider convenient access for cleaning and maintenance, worker safety, and productivity!

Consider Safety:

Working near machinery such as conveyor systems can be quite hazardous. You want to ensure that the conveyor system will not endanger your employees. The right conveyor device won’t lose or fail any element that may cause a worker to be injured. It would also protect any of its extremely risky mechanisms to reduce the possibility of snagging or other injuries.

Consider Cost:

When it comes to conveyor systems, one of the vital things to imagine is the cost of the conveyor. Meanwhile, savings on a short-term basis with cheap conveyors, like a drill or vacuum, are quickly compensated by material waste or breakage. It’s a concept of ‘pay now/pay later.’ A low-priced conveyor today will cost you far more in the long run. Finally, investing in the proper equipment is better than enduring the consequences afterward.

Consider Environmental Conditions:

Environmental factors are frequently overlooked or never considered when choosing a conveyor system. Understanding the environment in which your conveyor will be installed is critical. For example, if you work with metal parts, cutting oil residue or metal machining shavings may find their way into your conveyor, causing it to malfunction. So, choose the one that is environmentally friendly in every way!

Conclusion

Conveyor selection must consider essential factors such as product type, product weight, available facility space, environmentally friendly, and cleaning and maintenance resources to provide a high return on investment.

While cost is important, investing in the right material-handling machinery is preferable rather than facing the consequences later. Want to choose the best belt conveyors? Delta Stark can help. We are the leading belt conveyor manufacturer who can help you find the exact conveyor system you need. Reach out to us today!

[onlinecoolers]

Is your AC Freezing Up

Is your AC Freezing Up? Here’s Why and How to Fix It

In the summertime, a broken air conditioner can be more than just an annoyance — it can make your home almost unbearable to live in. But what if your AC isn’t actually broken? It could be that it’s just freezing up! In this article, we’ll explore why this happens and what steps one can take to fix it.

What Causes My AC to Freeze Up?

Air conditioner freezing is a common problem you may face in summer. The blockage of airflow causes the air conditioner freezing issue. Your air conditioner might be freezing because of one of the following issues.

Air Filters –One of the most common reasons your AC unit may freeze is that the air filter is dirty. A dirty air filter restricts airflow and can cause the evaporator coils to freeze. If your AC unit is freezing up, check the air filter and replace it if necessary. If the problem persists, there are a few other potential causes to investigate.

Refrigerant Leak –A refrigerant leak is another common reason for an AC unit to freeze up. When refrigerant levels are low, it can cause the evaporator coils to freeze. Have a professional technician check for leaks and repair them as necessary.

Blower Motor –The third potential cause is a faulty blower motor. If the blower motor does not work appropriately, it will not circulate air properly and can cause the evaporator coils to freeze. Have a professional technician inspect and replace the blower motor if necessary.

Inaccurate Setting –The fourth potential cause of an AC unit freezing up is incorrect fan speed settings. If the fan speed is too low, it won’t circulate air properly and can cause the evaporator coils to freeze. Set the fan speed to “auto” rather than “low” or “high” to let the fan run at an optimal speed.

If your AC is freezing up, acting quickly is important. Allowing the unit to run while frozen can damage the compressor and other components. To thaw a frozen AC unit, turn off the power and remove the ice with a brush or vacuum cleaner attachment. Once the ice is removed, clean or replace the air filter and check for any blockages in the airflow.

When to Call the Expert

Now, you know the potential triggers behind the air conditioners’ freezing issues. If your Air conditioner is not working adequately, diagnose your AC by following the steps,

before looking for a technician,

Air filters — Check the air filters to see whether they are dirty. Clean or replace the air filters if you find them dirty, as dirty air filters can block the airflow, resulting in the freezing issue of air conditioners. Ensure to set up a routine for checking the air filters, as they play a key role in air conditioning your space.

Fan Setting — Tune the fan on auto instead of high or low, as the inaccurate fan setting can be another potential issue behind your air conditioner freezing.

If your air conditioner keeps freezing up after fixing the air filters and fan settings, it’s best to call an expert for help. The professional technicians will check the blower motor, refrigerant leakage, and other potential things to diagnose the problem and get your AC running smoothly again in no time!

How to Fix a Frozen Air Conditioner

If your air conditioner is freezing up, it’s likely because the evaporator coils are too cold. Various factors, including a dirty air filter, low refrigerant levels, or a faulty blower motor, can cause this.

Follow the enlisted steps to fix a frozen air conditioner:

Start by turning off the unit and letting it thaw for about an hour.

Check the air filters of your air conditioner and clean or replace them if found dirty.

Check the fan setting and tune it to auto mode to let the system optimize the airflow to avoid freezing.

Inspect the blower motor, which maintains the required airflow to cool the space. Replace the blower motor if it’s not working properly.

Check Refrigerant leakage and refrigerant level for refilling it to an appropriate level.

Helpful Tips for Preventing Freezing AC

We have enlisted expert tips to prevent air conditioners’ freezing issues.

Air filter inspection — Set a routine for air filter inspection. Clean or replace the dirty air filters after every defined period to avoid air blockage because of dirty air filters.

Evaporator Coils — Make sure the evaporator coils are clean. Dirty coils can also restrict airflow and cause the AC to freeze up.

Fan mode — Ensure your air conditioner fan is always in auto mode.

Refrigerant level — Set a routine to check the refrigerant level at least once a month to prevent ACs’ freezing because of the lower refrigerant level.

Ventilation — Keep the area around the outdoor unit clear of debris. It will ensure proper airflow and help prevent the AC from freezing up.

Final Words

This blog post has thoroughly discussed the potential reasons triggering air conditioner freezing issues with the possible solutions and tips for prevention. You can follow the tips mentioned above or get help from a professional technician to fix your AC freezing issue.

However, going into a sweltering UAE summer with a repaired AC that can break mid-summer will not be a good move. We suggest you browse Coolersonline to get your new Air conditioner with professional installation and after-sale services at incredible prices — and chill the rest of your summer without meeting any critical issues with your AC.

Source:- https://coolersonline.ae/is-your-ac-freezing-up/

[acleanhousewashing]

Exterior Cleaning Ipswich

Exterior cleaning Ipswich is important because it not only keeps your home looking beautiful but also protects your property from the elements. In order to do it effectively, you will need to find a reliable professional. However, it can be difficult to find a good company. That is why you need to do some research and find one that offers a wide range of services to choose from.

Having a clean roof can extend the life of your home and reduce your energy bill. It can also improve your home's curb appeal. To know more about Exterior Cleaning, visit the A Clean House Washing or call 0419778863.

A properly cleaned roof may even improve the value of your home. It's important to consider a roof's durability and longevity when determining the cost of insurance. If your home is located in an area with a lot of rain, it can be more susceptible to mold and mildew. Fortunately, there are many ways to keep your roofing system in good shape.

The best way to make sure your roof's good to go is to hire a professional to do it for you. They'll be able to do a comprehensive inspection and clean out any debris and clogs.

In Ipswich, gutter cleaning should be done at least twice a year. It is important to do this to protect your home from moisture seepage. Moisture seepage can cause significant damage to your home and will require expensive repairs.

A professional service will clean your gutters and downspouts to remove any debris, leaving them free of dirt, leaves, and other pollutants. This will prevent the buildup of mold and other grime. The condition of your gutters can also affect the lifespan of your roof. When the gutters become damaged, water can leak into your basement and rot your fascia board.

If you are unsure of whether you need to have your gutters cleaned, contact a professional gutter cleaning service in your area. This will save you money and time. They will ensure that the job is done properly and will give you peace of mind.

A properly executed Ipswich house wash will leave your home looking and smelling fresher than when you moved in. The best part is that you won't have to lift a finger to get the job done. There are a host of companies offering this service in the area. These include local firms as well as larger franchisees that have offices throughout Brisbane and the Gold Coast. Choosing the right one for you can be as simple as doing a quick Google search.

In addition to cleaning your walls and floors, you can also have your windows and roof polished. As far as the insides of your house are concerned, your first line of defense should be a good vacuum and a mop. But as with anything else, there's no replacement for a professional.

It is important to clean your home exterior, especially if you are selling or if you want to add value to your property. Not only does a pristine appearance add to your curb appeal, it is also a way to maintain your investment and preserve the quality of your home.

There are a number of ways to do this. One is soft washing. Soft washing is an environmentally friendly method that cleans your home and keeps it safe for your family to live in. To know more about Exterior Cleaning, visit the A Clean House Washing or call 0419778863.

Pressure cleaning or power cleaning is another option. These two methods can both be used to clean your home's exterior. However, pressure washing uses high-pressure water, while soft washing uses low-pressure water to clean your home. This is a safer alternative to high-pressure methods.

[rogersheatingandcooling22]

AC Repair Mesa

You have a problem with your HVAC system, and now you need to call an ac repair company in Mesa. In this article, we'll explain what happens when you call an HVAC technician and what to expect from them.

How Does an AC Work?

An air conditioner cools the air by removing heat from inside your home. It's a self-contained machine that contains all of these parts:

The compressor is the heart of an AC unit. This machine compresses refrigerant gas, which draws in heat and converts it into liquid form. The compressor then moves the hot liquid through an expansion valve to reduce its pressure, creating a low-pressure zone that allows it to evaporate into a gas again.

The condenser fan blows cool air into your home through vents in walls or ceiling ductwork as the vaporized refrigerant passes through coils mounted outside on walls or roofs to lose its heat before returning to liquid form in another part of the system called an expansion device (usually referred to as an "expansion valve").

4 AC Problems You Can Fix Yourself

Ac repair Mesa has four common AC problems that you can fix yourself. Here's a step-by-step guide to each:

Clogged drain line. If your air conditioner isn't cooling properly and water is backing up in the overflow pan, your condensate drain may be clogged. To clear it out, turn off the power to the unit and unplug all of its components before removing any panels or covers on your condenser coil to expose it completely. From there, flush out any debris with a garden hose or vacuum cleaner while testing for any leaks in the system by applying soapy water around certain areas of concern (most commonly at joints). You should also check if there are any cracks or holes in pipes leading from the unit itself back into the house; these will need to be repaired by calling a professional technician before reconnecting everything together again according

to the manufacturer's instructions before restarting the operation

Why is My Air Conditioner Not Blowing Cold Air?

If the air conditioner is not blowing cold air, there are several things that could be wrong. The first thing to look at is the thermostat. Is it set on cool? Next, you can check the compressor by listening closely (you may need to put your ear right next to it) and feeling around with your hand. If it feels warm or hot, there’s something wrong with the compressor and it should be replaced as soon as possible. Next up: condenser! Get out there and take a peek at this too—does it feel like everything else in working order? If so, move on! Finally we come to evaporator coils—these are what actually ventilate indoor air through our ductwork into our homes and make them nice and cool; if these aren’t functioning properly then your home won't be either! To troubleshoot this issue further once you've confirmed all other components appear operational on their own merits (or lack thereof), start by checking any electrical wiring for signs of damage or wear over time due to excessive heat exposure over time during repeated operation cycles under constant stress conditions where temperatures fluctuate wildly from one extreme end of the scale where temperatures rise above 100 degrees Fahrenheit regularly throughout day-to-day operation cycles resulting in repeated thermal expansion/contraction cycles occurring within each component unit itself causing undue strain upon materials used during construction process--which leads us back full circle again back towards initial steps taken earlier when looking at potential causes behind why there might have been issues with wiring connections between different parts within the system...

Warning Signs that it's Time for A/C Repair

When your air conditioner is not cooling, this is usually the first sign that something is wrong. If your AC unit does not have enough refrigerant in it, then it won't be able to do its job of cooling down your home. This can occur at any time during the season, but it's most common during summer when high temperatures make a strong demand on your system.

What to Expect During Your A/C Service Call

When you call for A/C service, the technician will ask you a few questions about your system and schedule an appointment. During the visit, they'll examine the condenser, evaporator coil, air filters and other components of your HVAC system to find any problems that may be causing your unit to work inefficiently or not at all. They'll also clean and inspect everything inside your home's ductwork in order to improve airflow throughout it.

Learn what to expect when calling an ac repair company

If you need AC repair in Mesa, it's important to know what to expect when calling a professional.

When you call an air conditioning repair company, they will have certain standard procedures that they will follow. Some of these may include:

Performing an inspection of your unit and making sure it is working properly

Cleaning out the inside and outside coils of your system

Checking the temperature inside and outside your home

Checking for leaks or water damage

Rogers Heating And Cooling is located in Mesa Arizona and specializes in AC Repair, Furnace Repair, Air Conditioner Repair, Heat Pump repair, and more! If you're having trouble with your AC or Furnace give us a call today so we can help you out.

Rogers Heating And Cooling

1144 n 95th street Mesa Az 85207

(480) 771-6073

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[zeearchitect]

Zero Degree Design

Zero Degree Design is Best Interior Designing Institute in Patna. Some Interior related points are:

Lighting Lighting is one of the most essential elements of interior design. It has been proven that lighting affects mood, body temperature, sleep cycles, hormone production, and circadian rhythms. A change in lighting can affect a person’s emotional state. If you want people to feel relaxed while they’re staying at your place, make sure there is enough natural sunlight as well as bright lights. You don't need direct sunlight, just indirect lighting. Also, if you have guests over, try to avoid using overhead lighting, as it may cause headaches and eye strain. Try to use recessed lighting instead. In addition, lighting should always be set high enough to allow a plant to receive adequate amount of light throughout the day.

Temperature Temperature changes in the house can lead to fatigue and anxiety. Most people tend to feel sleepy after spending time in a room where the temperature has dropped below 60 degrees. If possible, try keeping the room as cool as possible by opening windows and/or leaving the air conditioner running. However, if you really have to keep the room warm, consider installing a heater.

Noise Level Most people find it hard to concentrate when their environment is noisy. If your bedroom gets loud, then you might want to invest in some earplugs or headphones. Try making noise-cancelling headphones as well, as they can help block out distracting noises.

Humidity Humidity level inside a home could be affected by different factors. One of them would be how often you open the windows and doors. Another factor is the type of ventilation system you have. A simple fan won’t do much to bring in fresh air. Instead, install a whole-house humidifier that can easily maintain a consistent humidity level. Alternatively, you can hang wet cloths outside the doorways to soak up steam coming from the house's air conditioning.

Cleanliness Cleanliness (Best Interior Designing Institute in Patna) makes a difference in our daily lives. When someone enters your home, he or she expects to find a clean space. A dirty home can leave a bad impression on visitors. To ensure that your home remains clean at all times, use cleaning products with low toxicity levels. An effective way of removing bacteria and germs would be to wipe down surfaces using wipes that contain antimicrobial agents, especially those made from vinegar, water, baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, white vinegar, or lemon juice. Make sure that you always disinfect items that touch food or drink before using them. Keep everything in good shape by regularly vacuuming floors, rugs, and furniture. 6a. Placement Placing objects close to the eyes is not recommended. Your vision is naturally impaired when looking directly at something that is close to your face. Objects near your eyes are the ones that give you headaches as they get in the way of what you're trying to focus on. 6b. Height The optimal height for any piece of furniture is around 18 inches off the ground. Anything higher than this and the person sitting will be forced to look up and down constantly. Furniture placed lower than this will force the user to adopt uncomfortable positions.

Zero Degree Design is Best Interior Designing Institute in Patna.

[meekajtechnoapp]

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[libermachinae]

Notes: baby robot

—

“602 RPS. Fuel pressure 124 over 75. Circuits holding—”

“Prowl, come.”

Prowl glanced up from the monitor for just an astrosec. Mesothulas was standing in front of the CR chamber, leaned so close he was nearly touching the casing, well beyond the limits of safety protocols. Even from up here in the observation deck, Prowl could see the way he quivered, fingers flexing as though he really intended to brush them over the freezing pod. He’d spoken without looking away from it, optics fixed on the narrow porthole, its view blocked from Prowl’s gaze by the glare of the lab’s lighting.

When he looked back, RPS had dropped to 598.

“I can observe plenty from up here,” he said, logging the change along with the rest of the readout flashing across his display. The system would do it automatically, but keeping his own logs allowed him to feed the data directly into his risk analysis programs, their last safeguard against any unexpected chain reactions. Reversal and shutdown commands remained queued and at the ready.

“But he can’t see you,” Mesothulas insisted, still with his gaze on the pod. There was a mechanical growl deep within the machine, systems warming to protect them against the coming temperature snap.

“I’ll introduce myself later,” Prowl promised. He had a script prepared, easily integrated into the standard basic function tests he’d plucked from the ruins of Petrex’s last construction center. It would serve to demonstrate the construct’s ability to differentiate itself from other people and recognize when it was being addressed, provided current readings held steady and they actually made it that far. “I need to keep monitoring in case of—”

“In case of what, Prowl? Our design is without flaw. He’s perfect.” Mesothulas did touch the pod then, yanking away and shaking out his hand when the cold bit back. “We’ve already run every test, accounted for every variable. You said yourself, nothing will go wrong.”

“Because I’m up here, making sure it doesn’t.” There was a hiss as the internal ventilations started to draw out the freezing gasses, and a fog appeared over the porthole as moisture in the air responded to the change in temperature. Mesothulas leaned close again, and this time Prowl decided not to bother worrying about it. “I don’t understand why this is an issue. We haven’t installed its datalogging software yet; it won’t remember any of this.”

There was a lot he didn’t understand about Mesothulas, but most of the time that worked to his benefit, their different priorities allowing them to easily collaborate by taking over parts of each project the other had no interest in. It was rare for them to clash, and if it caused him to add a few extra lines to his spreadsheets as he accelerated his tracking speed, the construct certainly wouldn’t suffer for it.

“He, Prowl. He has his own spark.”

And going by the standards Prowl had grown up with, that put it in the animate category, a step above mechanized but not yet in the autonomous phase that signified life. But that was for spliced sparks, borrowed identities who only became individuals once introduced to a unique processor sequence. He and Mesothulas had gone back and forth on what this meant for the construct, whose spark had been struck from as close to nothing as one could, and Prowl was smart enough to know it was not a discussion worth bringing up now.

“And it’s important because we’re not just introducing ourselves: we’re introducing the entire universe to him. We’re his first impression of everything. I’m not letting you waste that opportunity.”

There was a hiccup in Prowl’s momentum as Mesothulas’ sentiments caused his processor to pick up a memory. Its low priority weighed against the negligible file size meant that despite considering deleting it as it lost relevance with each new change to his life, he’d kept it buried in his archive. The auditory component had become uncoupled during one of his early processor crashes, so all he had left was the visual, grainy with the degradation of multiple transfers and processor upgrades. The file played and his optical feed came online to two Cybertronians, one standing back with a datapad while the other stood closer, his optics fixed on Prowl. They were both talking, but Prowl hadn’t bothered to watch their lips: all his focus had been on their plating, his first thoughts a string of hexidecimal codes as he tried to track all the ways their paint reacted to light and shadow.

It was not a long memory. He’d dropped offline almost immediately, having overwhelmed his processor before his temperature controls had finished booting up, and after that he’d had a specialist team to finish his construction. Though he’d had access to the database, he’d never bothered to go looking up the names of the first two bots he’d seen. Their role in his life had been all but inconsequential, compared to the engineers who spent decacycles making sure his spark and frame could maintain the advanced tactical suite he’d been built for.

“I’ll make sure the construct functions long enough to see any of it,” he said, returning his focus to the monitors. 608 RPS.

He thought he caught a glint of yellow from where Mesothulas stood.

“P—”

“Vacuum seal releasing.”

There was a louder hiss as a plume of white mist escaped the seams of the pod door. Mesothulas jumped away from it, then moved back in as soon as it had dissipated, hands up like he wanted to help the door along as it pushed out and then slid aside on a silent track. More mist spilled out, blanketing the floor around Mesothulas’ pedes, but it was hard to tell whether his slight hop step was from pain or eagerness.

“Surge guards holding,” Prowl reported. “Autonomics steady. Entering second stage bootup.”

Mesothulas gasped and Prowl looked up, concerned, but found himself just as startled. Bioillumination was a hallmark of stage two and not in itself surprising. Even the brilliant intensity, light stretching beyond the confines of the pod, was to be expected, given that they hadn’t installed any code to regulate it yet. Mesothulas just hadn’t told him the optics would be blue.

“Sys-systems disconnecting from external fuel supply,” he stammered, feeling a rush of embarrassment before he composed himself. “Fuel pressure 121 over 74.”

Mesothulas made no indication he heard, and a moment later Prowl realized he wasn’t listening at all: he was talking to the construct, his voice a low murmur Prowl couldn’t hear from his place on the observation deck.

“Entering third stage. Somatic systems coming online.”

The construct turned to look at Mesothulas. Even turned away, Prowl somehow knew the scientist was beaming, his lesson from earlier the only thing keeping him from reaching into the pod and wrapping himself around his creation like he was wont to do with Prowl.

And then Mesothulas stepped back and to the side, pointing up at the platform still without his optics leaving the construct.

“And that’s Prowl,” he said, finally loud enough for his voice to carry. “He’s worked just as hard.”

Those blue optics turned to him. Prowl knew it was only the most basic coding compelling the construct to follow the movement of Mesothulas’ finger, its bare processor unable to even register him as a separate element from his environment, let alone a fellow Cybertronian. But there was something about being caught in that gaze, watching the lenses attempt to focus when there wasn’t enough data yet to tell them what to focus on, that caused him to raise his hand in an uncertain wave.

“You’ll get the chance to meet him later, I promise,” Mesothulas said, drawing the construct’s attention back to him. “Ostaros, we have so much more to show you. You can’t imagine.”

It couldn’t, Prowl mused, watching Mesothulas attempt to link his fingers with those of his creation and pulling away with a hiss at the subsequent reminder. But this period of emptiness would not last forever. Like the science that had formed its impossible spark, the construct—Ostaros—would come into being, something pulled from nothing, a person just as much as himself or Mesothulas. Prowl would introduce himself then, to whoever it was that Ostaros became.

[littlemssam]

Mod Updates & Translations

Interactions won't show up on counters now

Ask to Cook/Bake/Grill/Mix Drink! (including Cupcakes and Experimental Food)

***

Live in Store: Sims should not grab Food from the Basemental Drugs Mod if the Food is set to Sale. Live in Vet Clinic: Fixed the Lot Trait Description Text

Live in Business

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Fixed an Issue with Upgradios not working on Clothes Lines. Update for the "Scruberoo to Floors which will clean the Dust on the whole Lot" Feature.

Improved Practical Spells

***

Small Tweak to prevent autonomous tend garden for Sims without the Plant Lover Trait

Autonomous Gardening

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Added ChippedSim's Graveyard Venue ID to the Venue Lists.

More Buyable Venues and new Venue Types Holiday Home Standalone Version

***

Not sure if EA missed supporting Butler to be able to vacuum or not but i got reports that they don't do it so i tweaked the Mod so Butler should vacuum too now.

Better Butler (and Hire more Butler)

***

Small Tweak to the low Motive Trigger Chance so the Miscarriage Base Chance does not get triggered each time a Motive (Energy/Hunger) is in red.

Miscarriage Chance & Abortion

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Update for the No Autonomous Addon to support the new Perfectionist Interaction

Woodworking Table Rework + No Autonomous

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Reworked the Mod: LIS are not based on Service NPCs now which let's you choose the NPC you want to hire. Sims you want to hire need to fullfil the following requirements: Has no Career or the needed Job Career for example Nanny, Is homeless, not a Vampire who is not sunimmun, not famous. The Mod is based on a Lot Trait now which needs to get added via Build Buy. This Lot Trait will let LIS spawn on their own. They should work the same way like the former Service NPCs Versions worked. If you already hired one of the LIS, i recommend that you cancel them before updating and then rehire them via the new System.

Live In Services

***

Update for "Guests Only Order Drink When Not Busy" & "No Shoes at Home" (Random) for the upcoming new Mod "My Little Neighborhood".

Random Small Mods

***

Translations

Ask to Go for a Walk & Bath (Dogs) (Added Polish by Sarah Wolf) Calm Bees (Added Polish by Sarah Wolf) Plasma Packs from Plasma Fruits (Added Polish by Sarah Wolf) Buy a better Mattress (Better Energy/Comfort on Beds) (Added Polish by Sarah Wolf) No Outfit Changing | Custom LotTrait & Traits (Added Polish by Sarah Wolf) Sell via Simbay (Added Polish by Sarah Wolf) Automatic Stereo System (Added Korean by 주나) Eco Dishwasher (Added Korean by 주나) Random Small Mods - Auto Brush Teeth, Purchased Items via Mail (Added Korean by 주나)

***

Update of Nisa’s Lot Trait Extender:

Fixed missing EXIT Text

Nisa’s Lot Trait Extender

***

Don't download these Updates if you have the Legacy Edition!

[pegasister60]

I want to make an Alien!Purpled but like an Among Us Imposter type.

-

Purpled’s chatting with a crewmate on Skeld while faking a download in Communications with a stolen spare tablet.

Crewmate talks about how she used to be a mercenary in another star system before she joined a research crew as protection and actually got invested in their work. Ever since she’s traveled with them.

Purpled is just trying to make conversation and asks what a mercenary is. She explains it’s a person who’s hired to do some shady jobs. Mostly they’re paid to kill people though.

And Purpled just yeets his tablet across the room and it smashes against the wall.

“You mean people are getting paid for this???”

“Purpled, what-“

Purpled twists his helmet with a click and lifts it a bit so his tongue can pierce her helmet and eye.

She’s dead before he even leaves the room.

Purpled was going to take this slow, but it seems like he’s got plans to make. He’s sure his partner won’t mind the change of pace.

Before long, the two Imposters have had a feast and the Skeld has changed its course to dock at a busy space port. They part ways as perfect strangers.

It takes all of ten minutes for Purpled to find a suitable vessel to hijack, a one person saucer, and take care of its pilot.

He makes his way to the place where some of his last crew’s members had been from originally.

Hypixel.

He lays low until he can make a new face from scratch. During that time he earns some coins to afford his Hypixel Housing space (where he parked the stolen saucer) by playing Skywars.

By the time he’d changed his face, a Skywars-like game with odd respawn mechanics opened up to the public, and he decided to use it to make a name for himself. Go leaderboard and get a legitimate reputation to build on.

Couple years pass and he’s a known Bedwars sweat who’ll also take care of some problems for you if you have the coin for it.

And Purpled’s received an invitation from an acquaintance who’d admired his agility and played a few rounds of Doubles with him recently.

This should be interesting. The last time he was openly invited to something was the voyage he’d joined that changed his career goals.

He’s quick to pack up and move. And excited to learn that the lot he’d parked his “UFO” in was directly across from a fellow Imposter.

This poor SMP wouldn’t know what hit it.

-

Tubbo and Hannah would also be imposters. They know Dream’s not human and Charlie’s not human and they suspect Quackity isn’t either.

Under the cut is my worldbuilding for what Imposters be like.

-

Imposters don't always eat their prey right away because of the way they hunt. Some find other means to sustain themselves and can afford to kill for sport.

They can be very social and charismatic but there are some that don't bother and get straight to business.

Their bodies are very easy to morph but it takes focus and practice to do. They can make shifts like height changes and stuff like that in seconds, which is how they crawl through tight spaces and pop out without any issue. But changing their appearance entirely is a process that takes time, though there's a subspecies of "Morphlings" who are adept enough to make these changes quickly before they need to snap back to avoid discovery.

An imposter will usually settle on an appearance that's close to the group's species externally. Internally, there are some organs they have that wouldn't be present in other species, which are dead giveaways unless they can explain away having three stomachs.

Due to the nature of their biology, the way an Imposter kills will vary. Some are capable of using their morphs to gain claws or fangs or sharp tongues to kill with while others make do with weapons. If you don't have a second stomach with teeth you can use for murder, a gun is fine.

Imposters can identify each other on sight. Through masks and helmets, they can know. Knowing whether or not an imposter is a Morphling though comes with experience.

After a certain amount of experience, an imposter can start recognizing other individuals as outsiders. Strange heartbeats, odd movements, bloodlusts, weird scents. If they're not an imposter but also not a part of the target species, it's usually not the imposter's business. To each their own hunt.

Imposters tend not to be in groups larger than three to avoid detection and for that same reason are fairly independent even when hunting together.

Imposters can use Respawn methods but there are ways for them to permadie outside of hardcore.

When exposed to extreme cold, Imposters hibernate. This allows them to last longer than most would when out in the unforgiving vacuum of space, but not forever. Eventually, unless they get picked up by a passing vessel, they will die.

Imposters cannot survive lava.

[meetmymouth]

HI OMG I KNOW YOUR REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT I NEEDED TO SEND THIS BEFORE I FORGOT !!!! COULD YOU DO A BLURB WHERE HARRY AND Y/N DO THE THING WHERE YOU GET WINE DRUNK AND WHOEVER TOUCHES THE OTHER FIRST LOOSES ????

it’s been a while since i wrote a blurb so hope this makes sense lmaooooo i wrote it while watching bake off finale so i was v distracted!!!! hope you like it :(

Harry places his own glass next to Y/N’s on the glass table and he leans back, watching her as she taps away on her phone.

“No pop,” he yawns, hand going up to his warm, sweaty neck. “No One Direction.”

A gasp, then a hiccup leaves her mouth, “The disrespect. I’m gonna put somethin’ sexy.”

Harry clears his throat, feeling drops of sweat run down his back and he wants to reach and stop it, maybe take his shirt off and maybe, just maybe cuddle into her side just to annoy her, hear that familiar snort, but he knows it would be a dangerous game to play considering the alcohol in their systems.

Instead, he gives her a smirk and puts his feet on the table, careful not to hit their glasses. “Sexy? What for? Y’gonna give me a lap dance?”

“You wish. Let’s...let’s make tonight more interesting-”

Harry snorts, “More interesting? I just told you about my embarrassing encounter with my ex. Nothing can top that for me tonight, sorry love.”

The small Bluetooth speaker makes a weird noise before Arctic Monkey’s I Wanna Be Yours starts playing and Harry rolls his eyes but the tiny smile remains present on his face as he watches Y/N walk towards the kitchen area behind where they’ve been seated.

“I hate this song,” he mutters, fighting the grin, “I wanna be your vacuum cleaner,” he sings, voice gruff and the tone playful, clearly taking the piss out of the lyrics.

She returns, another bottle of red clasped tightly between her beautiful fingers, and she throws the cork at Harry. “They’re deep, the lyrics, I love it. Stop being jealous- hand me your glass.”

“Am not. God- I didn’t think your cheap red would hit me this hard. My head’s killing me, it’s like two- no wait, three gorillas are having sex where my brain should be.”

“I don’t think gorillas would be into threesomes. And- excuse me? Cheap? I paid a tenner each for these babies. Not all of us are loaded.”

With bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he gives her a dismissive look, one hand coming up to rest on his crotch- something he always did when he felt comfortable, at ease, while the other brings the wine glass up to his lips.

She watches him take two big gulps despite his previous remarks, and her eyes focus on the stubble, probably a week old, and then her gaze fall to his Adam’s apple, watching it move up and down with each gulp. His cheeks are flushed, a beautiful pink, and there’s sweat on his forehead, some of his hair sticking to his skin, and she reaches to brush his hair back but her hand pauses in the air.

It’s nothing of the ordinary, these little touches here and there.

They were close. They both loved touching each other in the most friendly way, meaning, they loved hugs, cuddles, kisses, and they often find each other touching each other’s hair whether it be to ruffle it in order to annoy the other, or to brush the hair back and for them, the little touches were part of their friendship. 

So when her hand pauses in the air, Harry looks up at her, brow furrowed, “Wha’? Somethin’ in m’hair?” He slurs, bringing his hand up to his hair and he ruffles it. "Whaaaat?”

“Jus’ had an idea, ‘s all.”

“Oh shit. Hold on, imma take my joggers off-” 

Harry leans forward to put his glass on the coffee table and she spits out a no,

“Stop, that- that’s not what I’m talkin’ about. Dirty pig.”

“Pity.”

“Listen to me, will you?”

“Yep. All ears, darlin’.”

“So,” she lets out a sigh, then takes another gulp of her wine, “We get shitfaced and whoever touches the other first loses.”

Harry gives her a look, pupils dilated and lips turned upwards in a wide grin. “So am I taking my jogs off or not?”

“Oh fuck off, no! Clothes stay on. Just-” another hiccup, a silent burp more like, “Just don’t touch me. And I won’t touch you. It’s not- it doesn’t have to be sexual, y’know.”

“For now,” he mumbles and it’s loud enough for her to hear and send him a glare but he laughs it off.

Glass after glass, Y/N begins to feel her world shift, her vision becoming ‘shaky’, and she lets out a giggle because it’s been a while since she felt this way, since she’d gotten wine drunk. “I love this.”

Harry hums, one hand rubbing his eye as he tries to pour more wine but there’s only a couple of drops left so he tuts, placing the bottle back on the table and he downs that last couple of drops. 

Despite his drunken state, he tries to sing along, I never thought I'd feel this kind of hesitation...my hand on another girl...I wish I didn't have to lie...but his tongue feels like a wet sponge, so heavy, and he wants to put his hands- or her hands in his mouth so she can...so she can, she can do anything she wants to. Whatever she wants to.

“You sound shite when you’re pissed. I’m glad you say no to alcohol while singin’. God, my- I can’t feel my hands,” she mutters, trying to reach for the bottle, but Harry reaches at the same time, both stopping their movements when they remember their silly little game.

Harry looks at her, he really looks at her, and she blushes. 

He knows she does because she looks down and scrunches her cute nose and Harry wants to shoot himself in the dick.

“No touchin’...right,” he whispers. “’s empty, pet.”

Y/N looks up, finding him smiling down at her. “What’s empty?”

“The bottle, silly girl. Finito. Fini.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They’re silent for the most part, Valerie still playing in the background, and Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes. He puts one arm on his side, palm stretched on the sofa where he knows Y/N’s hand sits close, and he tries to move it closer but, once again, he knows he’s playing with fire. 

“Y’trying to touch me?” She says, voice low but soft regardless, and it makes him smile.

“No.”

“You so are. I’m literally looking at your hand right now.”

Another smile. “Why y’staring at m’hand, you fuckin’ creep,” Harry takes a risk and moves his hand more to the left but he lets out a sigh when their hands still fail to touch.

“Who- whoever,” she clears her throat, “Whoever loses pays the other a hundred quid. Hundred and fifty five...and five pence.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Harry snorts.

“It does. You wanna touch? You’re gonna pay!”

“Y’know,” he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, straightening up on the sofa. “I’ve heard that before-”

“Harry, stop. I know what you’re gonna say.”

“All right, all right. C’mere, lemme pinch y’cute cheeks,” he reaches his arm, just to wind her up, but she stops it with her hand which slaps Harry’s with force.

Their eyes widen and they look at each other for a while before Harry breaks the silence with a snort. “You- fuck. You owe me a hundred and fifty...five quid. And five pence,” he can’t help but laugh harder at the pout that’s forming on her face. “Oh, come on-”

“You set me up!”

“I did no such thing. Them’s the rules, babe. I accept Visa, Amex-”

“Amex? Who do you think I am? Fuck sake. I hate you so much.”

“You really really really...really don’t. Y’love me really.”

She reaches and flicks him in the forehead but he surges forward, grabbing her hand in his and without thinking, he puts her index in his mouth and bites.

"Argh! Harry you horny bastard, always wanna lick something- ew, give me my fuckin’ finger back!”

[foone]

Unbreathing Vacuum

I got an ADHD inspiration to write a short DS9 fic off a shitpost about Star Trek-but-all-the-computers-run-windows-98, so I wrote a thing about Odo and the crew's reaction to his seeming death. (This was written for twitter, so it's gonna have some weird paragraph breaks, sorry about that)

Odo is tracking down a Bolian weapons dealer with as many morals as hair follicles when he finally corners him in a cargo bay. It goes south, quickly, as it turns out weapons dealers have access to a lot of weapons.

His Bajoran security officer is laying down suppressing fire as Odo sneaks around behind the Bolian who is trying out a wide variety of strange weapons, colored beams shooting across the room like we're in a deadly disco of death.

Odo reforms into a grumpy humanoid behind the blue man group reject, shedding his Andorian Ice Fox form that let him cross the sea of crates without detection. Odo grumbles "I think that's enough, don't you?" as the Bolian turns and screams.

The football shaped object in his hands that was beeping increasingly frantic pitches drops to the floor, and he dives for it. Odo looks down in surprise, then recognizes what it is, but it's slightly too late, as timers on Klingon grenades are not known for their accuracy.

There's a flash of light and pressure as it detonates, and the cargo bay wall cracks, and the one sound no one wants to hear in a space station begins: the high pitched hissing of air rapidly leaving.

Odo gets to his feet in that uncanny way he sometimes does when he forgets to move like a being who has bones. He simply transitions from a body on the floor to a standing vaguely humanoid form. The Bolian, being closer to the blast, appears dead, or at least soon to be so.

He turns to his security officer to tell her to go call Chief O'Brien, when the hissing wall suddenly groans with the sound of bending metal, and the wall gives way completely. An entire semi-rectangular wall panel is ejected into the black, taking Odo and the dead Bolian with it

The security officer, nearer to the door, slams the access panel and dives through the door before it can finish opening, and rips off a barely attached wall panel to yank on the manual bulkhead release.

The door slams shut with typical Cardassian efficiency, not caring or bothering to check if there might be a limb or two in the way. The hurricane wind of all the station's air trying to escape is suddenly ended, and deafening white noise gives way to the low hum of the station.

Moments later, the crew up in Ops are reacting to the news of Odo's death in almost comically predictable ways.

Kira, the career soldier, is angry. She's seen many friends die in front of her, and she never let herself become numb to it. She's swearing at Odo in ways that the universal translator is so good at eliding, saying she always told him he was taking too many risks.

Just because he won't mind when someone stabs him doesn't mean he's invulnerable, she told him, and he, as always, almost-smiled in the way he only seems to do around her and grumbled about how he'd be careful.

The young doctor is barely holding it together. Kira's lashing out but it's a controlled sort of anger, a way she keeps a handle on the pain of losing people. Bashir, the eternal optimist to Odo's eternal pessimist, doesn't really believe in death, a strange trait for a doctor.

O'Brien is focusing himself on technical issues to avoid having to think about the emotional ones. What kind of weapon could have taken out a reinforced cargo bay wall? Had it been damaged before and incorrect repaired? He makes a note to do a full check of structural integrity

Dax has seemingly no reaction, but that's almost to be expected. You have a different outlook on death when you've died before, multiple times. As a near-immortal you see many people and make many friends, and nearly all of them will die long before you.

You have to learn to accept it, or it will kill you by inches. One of the downsides of seemingly endless life is there's a lot of time to mourn.

The commander is definitely feeling the impact of the loss, especially having had far too much experience with this particular kind of loss before. He flashes back to that time he always, in some way, still resides in...

When an alien force shows up and starts carving your ship into digestible chunks, you quickly become intimately familiar with the effects of sudden decompression on the humanoid body. It's not pretty, it's not as fast as you'd hope, and it's something you never forget.

He maintains his composure, leaning on his command training, and asks Kira to make a list of security officers she'd suggest promoting to Chief of Security. He thinks for a moment, realizes Odo had no family, and says he'll send a note to Dr. Pol

He turns back to go into his office when there's a dull thudding noise, and a sort of faint tink-tink-tink caused by the flexing of glass that happens with even the thickest of reinforced viewport.

He looks around in confusion, and Dax suddenly points at one of the high-up viewports. Floating outside the window, looking only slightly more annoyed than his resting "I hate life" face, is Odo.

It feels like something outside of a horror movie, a ghost floating silently outside a second story window, because humanoids don't just happily move around in the harsh void of space without needing a suit or a forcefield to keep them breathing.

But Odo isn't like most humanoids, after all. He's not a humanoid, for one. He's more a confounding self-propelled pile of goo that sometimes feels like pretending to be a humanoid shape.

This is made more obvious by the fact that he's only half there. His lower half is not legs, but a shimmering stretch of undifferentiated shapeshifter material, in order to hold onto an access handle tightly enough to give him the leverage to knock on a window.

Seeing he's got the attention of the crew, he pulls his hands from the window and starts attempting to sign to them. Kira's the only one with any experience in Bajoran sign language, and the best she can make out is something like "he broke his... Weasel? Columns him... Boat?"

He sighs, rolling his eyes, like only a shapeshifter really can. The sigh is silent of course, but if anyone could grumble in disappointment in the vacuum of space, it would be Odo.

His hands blur together as he shapeshifts them into a new form: a small flat panel, with Bajoran lettering in a large block font, perhaps a little too blocky as his aggravation is coming across even in typographical form.

COMBADGE DAMAGED BEAM ME ABOARD

Dax and O'Brien quickly confer, taking a painfully long moment to figure out how to lock onto something that is neither wearing a working combadge or reads as a life sign. Finally they figure out how to get a lock, and engage the transporter.

The grumpy-looking chief of security rematerializes on the Ops transporter pad, adjusting his "uniform" in an entirely unnecessarily maneuver he long ago picked up in his study of humanoids. He's naked, after all, he just looks like he's wearing clothes.

"Thank you for bringing me in", he grumbles, not saying the "finally" everyone can clearly hear in his tone. "It turns out that you can't open airlocks from the outside, so I wasn't able to come in the obvious way."

O'Brien, still slightly surprised by the sudden reappearance of his "dead" coworker, falls back on technical details as always. "That's a safety system we installed. The airlocks won't open unless they detect a ship is docked."

Kira chimes in with "Yeah, the Cardassians didn't have that restriction, as they wanted the freedom to just toss Bajorans out the airlocks when they felt like it." Odo responds with his usual grunt, a dismissive "pah, you solids and your weaknesses and your squabbles" noise.

Sisko replies "Regardless, it's good to see you alive and well, Odo."

Odo half-nods. "Commander, if you'll excuse me, I have reports to file and a safety lockout to implement. As tempting a prospect as it might seem, I wouldn't want Quark to end up to be sucked out the station's new orifice when he comes looking for his shipment of Yarmok sauce."

O'Brien jumps in with his typical urgency, half-covering up the feeling of "I should have fixed that already, damn" that he's seemingly always feeling around here. "I'll send a repair team down there right away."

Odo doesn't turn as he walks to the lift. "That would be appreciated, Chief. I'd rather not have to walk along the outside of the station again today." he says, punctuating it by activating the lift and descending out of view.

Sisko rubs his forehead. This is a strange place indeed, and despite all the headaches it gives him on a daily basis, he's beginning to feel almost at home in this remote alien place.

This place is strange, the people are strange, the situation is strange... But they're his strange.

Maybe someday they'll stop surprising him. But he doubts it, and he isn't sure he would want them to.

He sits down at his desk and pulls up another of the day's reports, thankful he doesn't need to write that letter to Doctor Mora Pol, for more than one reason.

It's never easy losing someone under your command, and writing that letter to their next-of-kin never gets easier either. But it's a good day when you don't have to do either.

[valdomarx]

Number Theory

On another version of Atlantis, John is a mathematician who is better with numbers than with people. But he's going to have to learn to get on with his team and their bossy leader, Rod, if he wants to survive here.

Stargate Atlantis, McShep, mensa!verse, 9k, rated E.

Also on AO3.

Dr. John Sheppard straightens his glasses, pulls his lab coat around himself, and makes one final, futile attempt to tame his hair.

He takes a last look around the SGC, bustling with scientists and marines and boxes of supplies, and wonders how everybody seems to know their place and what to do already.

Then he steps through a wormhole and into another galaxy.

-

Atlantis is stunning. Terrifying, and dangerous, and liable to kill them all, but stunning all the same.

-

He protests that there’s no need for a mathematician on an offworld team, but the head of science insists. John sourly suspects this Rod guy enjoys watching him wheeze and stumble every time they have to run for their damn lives.

But it turns out it’s useful for a field team to have someone around who can crack codes and work computers. And John hates field work less than he expected to, despite the unpredictability and the peril and all that awful running.

Sometimes, like when he breaks the encryption on a Wraith code in the nick of time and diverts an enemy ship away from its path toward Atlantis, he even feels a tiny bit like a hero.

-

Other than his team duties, though, Atlantis isn’t that much different from Caltech or MIT or the Air Force base at Wright-Patterson, or any of the other places he’s worked.

Everyone knows each other, except for him. Everyone bands together to look out for each other, and he stares in from the outside. Eating in the mess hall is like being catapulted back to high school.

So he makes himself at home in his lab. It’s quiet there, and there’s a plentiful supply of coffee, and there are only a couple of other mathematicians who occasionally pass through and largely leave him alone.

They’re next door to the noisy, boisterous science labs, where all the cool civilians hang out. But that’s fine. He gets used to ignoring them the same way he ignores the marines.

It’s just him and his numbers.

And sometimes, inexplicably, Rod or Teyla or Ronon, who will come by and sit at his desk and drink his coffee. He never understands what they’re hoping to achieve, but he doesn’t mind as long as they don’t touch anything.

-

Teyla appears in the doorway, staring at his whiteboard. It’s covered top to bottom with equations, and he’s had to stick up bits of paper around the walls to fit more on.

“Rod requested that I see how your work is going,” she says, voice giving nothing away.

He grits his teeth against the annoyance of the interruption. “It would be going faster if I could work unimpeded.”

She ignores the petulant note in his voice, squinting closer at the whiteboard. “What is this?”

“This is number theory. It’s the underlying basis for mathematics.”

Teyla raises an eyebrow. “And this is different from what Rod does?”

He sneers. “Very different. That’s just theoretical physics.”

“You do not respect Rod’s chosen field?” She seems genuinely curious.

“It’s fine, for, you know,” his lip curls, “an applied science.”

“I see. So this work can help us locate Wraith hive ships?”

He shifts his weight. “Well. I might need to, uhh, collaborate with Rod on that. I provide the conceptual models and he does the,” he waves dismissively, “practical calculations.”

“It seems that you two accomplish more when you work together.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t go that far. But he’s useful as an assistant, I suppose.”

-

When they learn there are three Wraith hive ships on their way to destroy the city, there isn’t much time for personal conflicts. They have a long-shot strategy: They’ve sent an emergency distress message in the vague hopes of rescue from Earth. But the Wraith ships are almost here and they need a plan now.

“Use the jumpers,” John suggests, because it’s obvious.

Rod snaps his fingers. “Yes! Put a nuclear warhead on board, fly the jumper right down the hives’ throats, and detonate.”

Elizabeth blanches. “That’s a suicide run.”

“No, no.” John thinks out loud. “Not if we can remote pilot the jumper.”

“Using the control chair!” Rod chimes in. “Sheppard, you’re a genius.”

John is so focused on the threat he forgets to preen over that.

It doesn’t take long for them to hook up the jumper to the chair and start running tests. Just as well, because death from above is coming imminently.

He knows something is wrong the moment Rod’s face falls while he’s poking at the cables running to the chair.

“McKay...” he says, voice low but insistent.

“I know! I know. Just give me a minute.” Rod disappears back into a bundle of cables. “I can fix this.”

Everything is suddenly, startlingly clear. The remote control won’t work, at least not in time. Someone will have to fly the jumper personally.

He and Rod both have the ATA gene, and both the same dubious piloting skills. But there’s not much skill required in flying directly into a hive, is there?

One of them has to do this.

“So long, Rod.” He turns and runs from the chair room to the jumper bay, not bothering to notify anyone of his plans.

“Sheppard! Sheppard!”

He hears Rod yell after him but he can’t think about that now. He has a job to do.

-

He gets beamed out by the Daedalus at the last moment. The battle is ugly, but the city and the expedition makes it out mostly intact.

Afterwards, Rod drags him into a conference room and yells at him for an hour about his reckless behavior.

John couldn’t give a shit. He has no regrets about his actions.

He gives an insouciant shrug. “Why the earful? It worked, didn’t it?”

“Because I am your team leader, and you didn’t even ask me for permission before nominating yourself for a suicide run!”

“That’s what this is about? Your precious chain of command? Grow up.”

Rod rounds on him and gets up on the balls of his feet. “There are people here who care about you, you dick!”

John blinks at the non sequitur. The idea that anyone would care more about him than about the city and everyone else in it is laughable. “Then they’re idiots,” he snaps and walks out.

Rod can write him up for that in one of the reports he so enjoys filing.

-

It would be nice if he could say that he learns and grows. That he makes friends. That he gets accepted by his peers and makes a home in the Pegasus galaxy.

But that’s not how this story goes. Not yet, anyway.

-

He does manage to make himself useful. He invents a new cryptographic algorithm to keep their computers and communications secure from Wraith interference. Elizabeth even gives him a grateful nod when he presents it to her, and says thank you.

He makes some progress on a quantum chaos approach to the Riemann hypothesis, not that anyone here understands that or how profoundly ingenious his work is.

And it turns out that many of the Ancient systems here are based on binary, just like computers on Earth, so he’s able to help Rod parse some of the more complex code. The two of them spend hours poking through the Ancient operating system, Rod fluttering around and theorizing aloud while John sits quietly in the corner, chewing on a pen and thinking.

It’s more fun than he would have expected.

-

And then, inevitably, he fucks up to a new and truly epic degree. He and Rod find the Ancient’s Project Arcturus, their great hope for extracting vacuum energy from subspace, and he convinces himself he can get it to work.

He’s self-aware enough to know he’s making poor choices, but not mentally strong enough to do otherwise. Because yes, of course virtually unlimited power is tempting, and of course discovering the last great experiment of the Ancients is thrilling. But he's a cautious person. He's not one to take unnecessary risks.

And yet the moment Rod turns to him with that look of delight, saying he's impressed, clapping him on the shoulder like he's done something wonderful, John is just gone. He ignores safety limits and all common sense, and he pushes and pushes and pushes for them to power up the generator, as if his wishes for it to work could make it so.

He wipes out most of a solar system with his hubris, not to mention nearly killing them both, and he's furious down to his bones because he can't figure out why he would have done something so stupid.

-

Bad enough to fail so spectacularly at your work that you devastate an entire star system, worse to have burned whatever credibility you may have built with your team, but worst of all to have to walk every day among people who know all about your inadequacy.

He's in the queue for the mess and a couple of the marines behind him are sniggering, one of them making a not-very-quiet crack about Sheppard’s ego being a weapon of mass destruction. John is staring straight ahead and pretending to ignore them, but the blood is pumping furiously in his ears and he's gripping his tray so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“You got something to say?” Suddenly Ronon is there, all six-foot-three-million-pounds of him, glaring down at the sniggering marine like he might crush his skull with his bare hands. “If you’ve got something to say to Sheppard, you can say it to me as well.”

The marine backs away, hands held high and spluttering apologies.

Ronon throws an arm around John’s shoulder and walks him to a table so they can sit and eat.

John stares down at his food and wills the panic to subside. “Thanks,” he mutters once his breathing has settled.

“No worries, bud,” Ronon says and steals a piece of carrot off John’s plate. “So, how’s that bomb design you were working on coming along? You know I love a big boom.”

John tells him how his models have predicted the highly energetic variety of naquadah they’ve discovered could be harnessed into more efficient field explosives, and Ronon nods along as if this is all fascinating.

In that moment, John knows he would die for this man without hesitation.

-

Perhaps the worst part about the Arcturus incident is how unbearably nice Rod is about the whole thing. He tells John that it was both of their decision, that he doesn't blame him, that sometimes these things happen when dealing with advanced technology.

But John can see the disappointment in his eyes and hear the judgement in his voice. He gets a sick, twisting feeling in his stomach when he thinks about it, and that must be Rod's fault.

Rod picks a bad time to come visit the lab.

"Sheppard," Rod leans against the door frame. "I need your report on the Arcturus mission."

The sick feeling in his gut deepens. He hasn't written the report yet. "Bet you’re enjoying making me catalogue my failures."

"What? No. I just need you to submit a report so I can turn it over to Elizabeth."

"I see. You're looking for someone to blame, right? Going to write about how I pushed you and it's all my fault?"

"Of course not," Rod steps closer and there isn't enough air in the room. "I wouldn't do that. What's going on with you?"

He can't bear the look of concern on Rod's face, which he surely doesn't deserve and will surely evaporate soon enough. "Maybe I've had enough of you reminding me of my screw ups via the excuse of paperwork."

Rod's voice sharpens. "Don't blame me because you're feeling guilty. I can't deal with that for you."

The reminder of his lacking emotional skills stings and he lashes out. "Don't try to therapize me. You're hardly in the position to be doling out life advice." It's a mean, petty thing to say, but he's feeling vindictive.

Rod's eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

John's pulse is notching up and his face is getting hot, the last of his short temper fraying away.

“You’re a people pleaser, Rod!” He realizes he’s yelling. He doesn’t care. “Everything you do is to make other people like you.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Rod puffs up. “I try to be a decent human being. I try to think about others and support them. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s fake! It’s all bullshit. Do you even have a personality of your own, or do you just reflect whatever the last person who smiled at you wants?”

Finally, the cracks in the facade of nice begin to show. “Making an effort to treat those around you with consideration isn’t demeaning!” He gets up in John’s face, waving a finger at him. “Not that you’d know, because you never consider anyone other than yourself.”

“At least I’m honest,” he spits, and it’s venomous. “At least I know who I am. Do you? Do you have any idea who you’d be if you weren’t so absorbed in distracting everyone from your flaws?”

He sees the barb hit its mark. Rod stumbles back like he’s been physically shoved, his face crumpling.

“God, you’re an asshole.” It’s not even angry. It’s small, and quiet, and John is suddenly acutely aware of how much taller he is than Rod, how much he towers over him.

Rod turns on his heel and walks away, and John knows that means he’s won. But he doesn’t feel the usual curl of smug satisfaction he gets when he puts someone in their place.

Instead, he just feels empty.

-

Whatever. It’s not his problem that Rod is having some kind of breakdown. Why should he care that Rod is skulking around the base looking small and miserable? He only said what they both know to be true.

If Rod wants to be a dick about it, that’s on him. If he’s going to remove John from the team, that’s fine. There’s nothing that John can do about it anyway.

He gets back to work, running simulations of ZPM power levels and how long they can expect to sustain the city under different circumstances, given that they won’t be enjoying unlimited power any time soon. He likes modelling, and he knows this work is important.

But for some reason he can’t focus. His gut keeps churning and his temples ache and he’s haunted by the word worthless, worthless, worthless.

-

When his lab door chimes at well past midnight, he’s ready to tell whoever it is to fuck right off. In fact, the excuse to yell at someone sounds great right now.

But when he opens the door to find Rod standing there, twisting his hands anxiously, he’s too shocked to even be snitty. He’d assumed that Rod and he were done, that it was only a matter of time before he was kicked off the team.

But here Rod is, mouth downturned and saying, “You were right, okay?”

John notes the sad wobble of Rod’s chin and bites back the urge to say something dismissive. “About what?”

“About me. I do try to please everyone. I do want everyone to like me.”

It sounds pathetic, said out loud like that, John thinks but doesn’t say.

Rod is still going. “But it’s not what you think. It’s not some ego trip. When I was younger, I used to be -” He lets out a huff of air. “- very different. I said whatever I wanted to whoever I wanted, and I didn’t care if everyone hated me for it.”

John tries to imagine an angry, mean Rod. His brain can’t picture it.

“I pushed people away because I was afraid they’d reject me. I was always alone and I got very good at telling myself I liked it that way.”

An uncomfortable feeling of familiarity crawls up the back of John’s spine, and he ruthlessly quashes it.

“That changed when I went to the SGC. The people there… They believed in me. They wanted my help, and they wanted to help me. I learned that if I was going to work there, to do important work, then I was going to need connections. And to make connections, I had to think about others, and try to be what they needed. It wasn’t only about me any more.”

Something in the preachy tone of Rod’s voice sets John on the defensive, and his shoulders begin to rise, counterarguments springing to his lips.

“Wait, stop -” Rod lays a hand on his shoulder, and all the aggression leeches out of him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m just trying to explain.”

The earnest look Rod is giving him makes his skin itch.

“I care about everyone here. Including you, John. Perhaps I try too hard sometimes, but that’s only because you all matter to me. I don’t want to let you down.”

Rod is talking in plurals, but John gets the impression he’s speaking to him personally. It’s too weighty, to be handed that kind of sincerity without warning.

“I do...” He coughs and looks at his feet, “I do care about the people here as well. I might not be demonstrative about it but I’m not…” he searches for the right word, “... indifferent.”

He doesn’t say the other words he’s thinking, which are cold, callous, heartless, the things people always call him.

Rod’s hand is still on his shoulder, heavy and warm, and he squeezes gently. “I know you do. I just wish that sometimes you’d let other people see that too.”

-

John tries. He really does. Ronon tells him that he needs to get out of the lab more, so he resolves to make time to socialize. He doesn’t really know how to do that, but Teyla quietly slides him a copy of the city’s social activity schedule and suggests he goes through the list.

Painting with Major Lorne - no.

Choir with the medical staff - sounds awful.

Extra combat training - absolutely not.

Mensa club - now there’s a possibility.

“Join us for FUN and FRIENDS,” the tiny advert reads. “All welcome (as long as your IQ is over 150).”

That he can do. He joins the club.

It's him and Kusanagi from R&D and Parrish from botany, plus a couple of the gate techs and one of the nurses from medical. Every Thursday night, they get together to solve puzzles and play chess. It's dorky and awkward but it's kind of nice, actually, and the people there don't seem to dislike him.

He thinks maybe he's getting better at this whole people thing.

-

And then Rod leaves, and everything goes to shit.

It starts off with a crisis, like there always is around here, exotic particles exploding out of a containment chamber which isn’t containing anything. There’s chaos, but there’s also data, so it doesn’t take long before he and Rod are turning to each other as the explanation clicks for both of them at the same time: An experiment to generate vacuum energy being conducted in a parallel universe.

“We can’t do anything from this side,” John reasons. “The bridge is one-way.”

“The inhabitants of the other universe might not even know what the effects here are. We need to go there directly and get them to shut it down,” Rod says, firm and sure. “It’s the only way.”

“But how could we-”

Rod snaps his fingers. “The Ancient shield. That’ll protect whoever travels there.”

“Right. Let me run some calculations.”

His head is buried in his computer when Rod comes running back in with the shield in his hand.

“Fire it up whenever you’re ready,” Rod orders. “I’ve got the shield to protect me.”

John’s head whips up. “You? You’re going?”

“Of course me! Come on, the chance to visit an alternate reality? Who could resist that?”

Icy cold water settles at the pit of John’s stomach. “That’s a one-way trip.”

Rod shrugs, like that’s nothing. “If that’s the cost to save our universe, it’ll be worth it.”

Something like rage explodes inside John’s head. “Absolutely not! I should be the one to go.” He searches desperately for a reason. “You’re needed here.”

Rod gives him a small, sad smile and says, “So are you.”

“That’s bullshit, McKay, and you know it. I’m not letting you do this.”

“Tell you what, let’s flip a coin for it.”

And that’s about as reasonable as he can hope for, so he turns his back to dig a coin out of his lab coat pocket.

That turns out to be a mistake.

“Be safe, John,” Rod says, then he activates the shield and steps into the containment chamber.

That bastard.

-

He spends three days thinking that Rod is gone for good.

He can’t… He can’t think, and he can’t sleep, and he’s angry all the time. When Zelenka asks for his help running calculations on the spacetime tear above the city John bellows at him, calls him incompetent, and says they might as well just accept that the city is going to be torn apart. Then he stays up all night doing the calculations anyway, because it’s better than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for another interminable evening.

He doesn’t bother eating, or showering, because what’s the point if they’re all going to die within a week? There’s a restless, raging scratching under his skin and it’s not like he hasn’t faced the possibility of death before, but this feels bleak and empty and insurmountable in a way he simply can’t deal with.

And then the rift mends itself, and Rod returns on a beam of light, and everyone acts as if they’re back to normal now and that brush with annihilation was just one of those quirky things that happen in the Pegasus galaxy.

But it eats at John, that feeling of powerlessness, that rippling anger of a problem he couldn’t solve.

Rod slides back into life in the city like it was nothing but another mission, and everyone rushes to say how brave he was, what a hero, how selfless he is, and John’s blood boils.

Rod swings by John’s lab with his usual breezy demeanor.

“Hey Sheppard! Wanna grab some dinner?”

The incongruity of Rod in his doorway, smiling casually like this is just another Tuesday, sends something hot and sharp spiking through his brain. “No,” John snarls. “Busy.”

“Okay. How about tomorrow?”

“Busy then too.”

Rod gives a self-deprecating little smile, and John wants to wipe it off his face. “Too busy to make an hour for your team?”

“A team?” he spits. “Is that what we are?”

Rod pales, finally taking in how furious John is. “Of course we are. I thought, since I’m back now, we could -”

“Oh, so you stride back in and decide to grace us with your presence, and we’re supposed to be thankful for that?”

“John, what -”

“You left!” he explodes. He’s shocked by his own vehemence. “You left us all. You weren’t planning to come back and you just left.”

Rod takes half a step forward, his face doing something complicated. “John, listen. I never wanted to-”

“Go fuck yourself!” He shoves at Rod’s shoulders, hard enough to keep him at a distance. He needs space; he needs quiet; this is all too much. “We don’t want you here anyway. You should have stayed in that other dimension. I’m sure it was great there.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up, McKay.” He tunes his voice to the iciest, most dismissive tone he has. “You should have stayed gone.”

He enjoys a mean spark of satisfaction at the way Rod’s face falls, then he storms out of the lab.

Fuck that guy anyway.

-

Everyone on the base keeps looking at John like he’s volatile, as if he’s about to blow at any minute. Even his team starts handling him with kid gloves, like he’s fragile, and he hates it so much he could scream.

He meticulously constructs the bubble of hostility which has long been his go-to when he needs people to leave him alone. He snaps and snarls, and perfects a glare so hostile that no one dares approach him.

It’s restrictive inside that bubble, but at least it’s stable. At least he gets to decide the reason why people are going to hate him.

-

A few days later, Teyla strides into his lab wearing her patented “take no shit” expression.

“John,” she says, and the false cheery brightness of her tone has him scared already. “You will join me for tea.”

This is not, he recognizes, a request. He begins to mumble excuses but she cuts him off without hesitation. “You will come to my quarters, and we will drink a mug of tea together.” She crosses her arms. “Now.”

There are battles you can win, and ones you cannot. This is most certainly the latter, so he meekly follows her as she sweeps out of the lab and back to her quarters.

Once inside, Teyla forces him into a chair with an excessively firm hand.

“Sit,” she orders.

It’s easier to do as she says.

She carefully prepares the tea and warms the earthenware mugs, strong hands making practiced, confident movements. John watches the motions as she pours the tea and slides a mug over to him.

“Drink,” she orders, and again it’s easier to obey.

The tea is soapy and bland, but he fears her retribution enough not to mention that. He sips as they sit in silence. She regards him heavily over her mug.

Eventually she reaches some kind of conclusion.

“You are a valued member of our team, John.” Her face is impassive but her words are warm. “We would not see harm come to you.”

“That’s. Uhh. Good.”

“But your behavior of late has been,” she narrows her eyes, “ill-advised.”

John opens his mouth to defend himself, because it’s not as if Teyla could understand what’s been going on. But she holds up a hand which stops him short.

“I do not care to listen to your justifications. But you should know that if you continue on the path you have been on, it will be to the detriment of us all.”

John feels like he’s been pulled into the principal’s office to be scolded like a schoolboy. He didn’t care for that shit when he was ten, and he certainly doesn’t care for it now.

“If that was all,” he pushes the mug away and gets to his feet, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Teyla’s hand shoots out with a warrior’s accuracy and closes around his wrist. “I am concerned for the team, yes. But I am also concerned for you. I would like to think that we are…” she tilts her head, “friends. And I should like for you to be happy.”

John is embarrassed to find a lump forming in his throat. He’s never truly had a friend before, and that someone of Teyla’s stature and courage would consider him as such has him flabbergasted. He suddenly wants, very badly, for her to think well of him.

“I’ll try harder,” he says. “I’ll try to be better.”

She releases his wrist and gives him a generous smile.

“That is all any of us can do.”

-

He starts small.

He saves up a few of the precious Earth-imported cookies they get for dessert in the mess sometimes and brings them to the next Mensa club night. Kusanagi beams and says that was very thoughtful of him, and Parrish splits a chocolate chip cookie with him while they speed-solve sudokus.

The next day he types up a report about the team’s most recent mission with as much detail as he can remember, and he makes special note of how brave Rod and Teyla and Ronon were.

He saves it to a flash drive and takes it to Elizabeth himself.

“What’s this?” she asks as he hands it over.

“Mission report,” John says, eyes fixed on a tapestry hanging behind her desk.

“Submitting a report without having to be asked five times first? Who are you and what have you done with Dr. Sheppard?”

Anger flashes for a moment, because he’s trying here and she doesn’t need to remind him of his past failings. But he looks down and sees she’s smiling. It’s a joke. She’s joking around with him.

Huh. Okay. That’s unfamiliar, but he doesn’t hate it.

“Maybe I’ve slipped in from an alternate dimension,” he says, and even though that’s not very funny Elizabeth laughs anyway, and that makes something glow inside him.

-

He grudgingly admits to himself that there does seem to be a pattern developing: when he makes an effort to connect with people here and, god help him, be nice to them, then they are happy and so is he. When he yells and pushes people away, they are sad and he is angry.

It’s sort of obvious, really, and he would be embarrassed that it’s taken him so long to figure that out, but humans are bizarre and complicated and not at all like numbers.

He has a hypothesis and now he needs to test it. He should try being more considerate to those closest to him and see if that improves everyone’s moods. If only he could figure out how to do that without the entire experience being mortifying.

He’ll work on Ronon first, he determines. Ronon has always looked out for him and they have a sort of unspoken bond. Finding something nice to do for him should be simple enough.

He decides on a data-driven approach. He takes to following Ronon around, looking for inspiration, trotting after him with a small notebook in hand to record his observations. Ronon finds the whole thing hilarious.

Ronon spends approximately 40% of his free time in the gym, which certainly is a lot, and a further 30% in the mess. Another 10% of the time he goes running around the city, and the remainder of his time is spent visiting with Teyla, stopping by the science labs to tease Rod, or visiting John.

“You like people,” John observes one day, when Ronon is warming up for a combat session with some of the marines. He’s added up the figures and plotted the data into neat hand-drawn scatter plots and histograms. “You spend almost all of your time around other people.”

Ronon’s lips tighten for a second, and then he relaxes. “Yeah, I do. For a long time it wasn’t safe for me to be around anyone, and I hated it.” He looks around the bustling gym and nods. “Now I don’t have to be alone any more. I’ll never fail to appreciate that.”

John squints and scribbles that down in his notebook too. “You like spending time with people even if they’re -” He glances over at the marines, loud and bossy and distastefully laddish, “- strange? Or mean?”

Ronon grins at him. “Even then, yeah.”

“But you go running on your own. Is that what you prefer?”

Ronon stiffens slightly. “No. It reminds me of running from the Wraith. But it’s important to stay fit, and no one here likes running with me.”

Ahah! The perfect opportunity. John bounces on the balls of his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

“What, seriously?”

“Sure. It sounds fun.”

-

It is not fun. Running is brutal, and he is terrible at it, but Ronon smiles the whole time and he keeps telling John what a great job he’s doing.

By the time they’ve completed one lap of the route, sweat is pouring off John and his lungs are fit to burst.

“Go get some rest,” Ronon says, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “I’m going to do another couple of laps.”

“Same time tomorrow?” he asks between heaving breaths.

“You really want to do this again?”

“You run every day, right? So I will too.”

Ronon stops for a moment, then hauls John into a giant bear hug, apparently not caring that he’s sweaty and gross, and says, “Thanks, man.”

John is a little awed by how easily he expresses his approval, and how much it means to be on the receiving end of it.

-

He’s noticed on trade missions that the Athosians greatly value textiles, which they weave from plant fibers and dye bright colors. On his next trip to the mainland he slips away to ask the village elder Charin about the rugs which are spread throughout her tent.

She seems surprised by his interest but happy to show off her collection. She tells him how Athosians give rugs as gifts to celebrate relationships and achievements, and then she shows him how they're made.

He trades a whole month's worth of credits for supplies, and when he returns to Atlantis he spends hours each evening delicately weaving yarn through a wooden frame, building up a soft, textured rug. When it's done it's a little lumpy, but it has four clear bands of bright color running through it to represent their team.

He carries the rug to Teyla's quarters and fidgets outside her door.

"John." Teyla squints at him as she opens the door. "You appear nervous."

"I made this for you," he says and thrusts the rug at her. "Charin told me you're supposed to make them for family. This one has stripes for the four of us on the team. Sorry if it's not very good."

Tesla takes the rug and presses a hand to her chest as she examines it. A slow, warm smile spreads across her face.

"It is beautiful. You have my thanks, John. This means more to me than you know."

He has an uncomfortable flutter of emotion and he can't quite meet her eye. He focuses on the wall behind her instead.

"You are as family to me as well," she says, and steps forward to press their foreheads together in the Athosian way.

The frank sentimentality of her manner makes him squirm, but he sort of likes it.

-

Rod is trickier. He is not a person who cares much for stuff, and he always waves off supply runs from Earth, saying he has everything he needs.

But he has been complaining lately that the unstable nature of Lantea's sun has been interfering with some of his measurements. John has an idea that can help with that, even if it does involve working with grubby experimental data.

Once he's ready he invites Rod to join him in the control chair room.

"I did some modeling," he says quickly when Rod arrives. He doesn't bother with a greeting. "To predict solar influence on the Lantea system and help with your experimental readings."

Rod's eyes light up. "You modeled a star for me?"

"I thought it might be," he shrugs one shoulder, trying not to look too anxious about whether Rod will find it weird, "useful."

He plugs a flash drive into a socket on the chair platform and guides Rod into the chair.

"How does it work?" Rod is bouncing with excitement, the same look of delight on his face as when he finds a new piece of technology.

John indulges in a small, proud smile, and says, "Think about where we are in the solar system."

Rod leans back in the chair and its power hums on. Overhead, the holographic display bursts into life showing Lantea and its star, along with all the other planets and comets and asteroids filling the system, with notations on their size and mass and trajectory.

Rod whips the model around, running it backward and forward through time, watching the orbits of the planets dance.

Then Rod zooms in to see the sun up close and gasps. John has linked the model to the city's long range sensors so the display can simulate the star's fluctuations in real time, and as they watch its surface bubbles and releases a tendril of plasma which reaches out into space.

The display follows the plasma as it propagates out through the system, moving first through the asteroid field and then meeting the planet, interacting with the magnetosphere and lighting up the planet's atmosphere with an aurora of dancing colors.

The soft lights of the display are reflected in Rod's eyes, wide and joyful and curious, and the sight makes something like pain but not twist in John's chest.

"This is incredible." Rod pokes further through the interface, looking at zipping comets and distant moons. He sits up and the chair's power fades off. "Thank you."

Heat creeps across John's cheeks, and he busies himself unplugging the drive. "I wanted to do something… nice."

Rod stands and walks over to him, taking the drive from his fingers. But he doesn't let go, keeping hold of his hand. "This is very nice," he says, startlingly close.

And then something very strange happens, and Rod is leaning in and kissing him. John is distracted from the soft press of his lips by absolute bafflement at this turn of events and he freezes up.

Rod steps away and John stares at him, desperately trying to figure out how to respond. "You kissed me," he ends up on, which does have the merit of being true.

Rod rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. I thought that's what you were going for. Was it not?"

John's brow wrinkles. His thoughts are whipping past at a million miles an hour.

That hadn't been his intention - he'd assumed that Rod was straight, not that he'd given it much thought - not that someone like Rod would be interested in him even if he wasn't - but there's something compelling about the concept, something intangible sitting on the edges of his perception. He can't quite see the shape of it.

"I need more data," he decides. "Kiss me again."

Rod breaks into a charmed smile. "I can do that."

This time when Rod leans in he's ready for it. Their mouths meet carefully, tentatively, and he angles his head so they line up better.

Oh. Interesting. The data is looking positive.

"Hmm." John draws back to breathe and consider. "Yes. That's good. Let's do that some more."

“An excellent plan," Rod says, putting his arms around John's waist to pull him closer and kiss him deeper.

Rod tastes incredible. Or maybe he just tastes of stale coffee and power bars, but John’s senses are so heightened that every sensation feels earth shattering, and he's starving for more. His hands scrabble at Rod’s collar, at his arms, at the hem of his shirt, trying to touch everything in a mad dash. He’s determined to get as much of whatever this is as he can before it comes to a crashing halt.

“Hey. Hey,” Rod’s hands are on top of his own, and he’s pulling away like John knew he would. John folds into himself, ready to turn his back as he listens to this is a mistake or we both know this isn’t going to work out or I’d never feel that way about you.

“If we’re going to do this…” Rod is giving him one of those lopsided smiles, soft and genuine. “I’d like to do it properly.”

John, still braced for rejection, has no idea what that means.

“Let me take you to bed,” Rod says, wobbly and uncertain and hopeful, of all things.

“Oh.” He could do that. They could do that. An ocean of unexpected possibilities opens up, glittering and unfamiliar and enticing. “Okay.”

Rod takes his hand and leads him back to his quarters. John’s palm is sweaty but his steps feel light as air.

-

Kissing Rod is excellent. Doing so while lying on Rod's bed is even better, and at some point they both lose their shirts and then there’s even more skin to explore and the comforting scent of Rod all around him.

It's what's next that's stressing him out, because while he's aware of the theoretical steps involved in sex, he doesn't exactly have practical experience to draw on.

There's the ever-present worry that he's missing something, that there's something he ought to know, like there's a handbook for this which everyone got a copy of except for him.

"You good?" Rod is looking at him with those very, very blue eyes. "You went away there for a minute."

His cheeks are blazing, but it seems important to set expectations. "I've never done this before," he admits.

"You mean with a man?"

He squirms. "With anyone."

He waits for Rod to laugh at him, but he merely looks contemplative. "Were you not interested, or…?"

"It never seemed that important, you know? Just another of those things that everyone else did except for me, like going to parties, or having friends, or spending Christmas with family."

Rod's face softens with sympathy.

"And even if I wanted to sometimes, it didn't matter, because who would want this?" He indicates himself with a disparaging hand. He knows what he looks like: too thin, too lanky, messy hair that will never keep a style. He's no one's ideal. "I'm not even sure why you’d be interested."

"God." Rod reaches for him and takes his face in his hands. "You really have no idea, do you?" Rod carefully removes his glasses, sets them aside, and says, "You're gorgeous," like he really means it.

Taking off his glasses makes John feel more vulnerable than taking off his clothes. Suddenly his shield is gone and there's the world, and Rod, and it's all very close and immediate and a little disorienting.

"Hey." Rod pets his face, soft and gentle, "It's okay. We can go slow."

He makes an effort to pull himself together. "I won't be very good at this."

"You don't have to be good." Rod traces his lips with a finger. "You just have to be you."

And that’s mystifying, frankly. But he’ll give it a go for Rod.

They kiss some more, and he relaxes into it, lets Rod take the lead, lets him explore his mouth until he’s boneless and breathless. He breaks for air and is lightheaded, the room almost spinning, but he wants more.

Then Rod is kissing along his jawline, and down his neck, and oh, when Rod’s lips brush against a spot near his throat his entire body tenses and twitches, and Rod makes a curious, happy noise and does it again. It’s a hair away from overwhelming but he likes it, he likes it a lot, and then Rod gently runs his teeth over that spot and John’s hips twitch off the bed entirely of their own volition.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, but Rod doesn’t look put off. In fact, he just grins, says, “Don’t be, I like it,” then pushes John back onto the bed and mouths at that spot some more.

His skin is hot all over and he’s shaking, and god, this is all going to be over embarrassingly fast and they haven’t even gotten all of their clothes off yet.

“Rod,” he says, and it comes out as a whine. “Will you -” He gestures vaguely at the bulge in the front of his jeans and hides his face in the pillow, too bashful to let Rod see him.

Rod pauses from his engrossment in John’s neck to breathe hot words into his ear instead. “Is that what you want?” he asks, and John is fit to burst already. How is Rod so good at this?

“Please,” he says, mumbling into the pillow. Everything is too much and not enough, and he wants, he wants, he wants. “Please, Rod, please -”

“Okay, of course I will, it’s okay.” Rod strokes his flank, petting him like a skittish horse, and that should be mortifying but it’s exactly what he needs. “I’d like to see you though,” he says, and reaches over to touch John’s chin.

John lets himself be turned, lets Rod roll him over so they’re facing each other and their eyes meet. That’s almost overwhelming too, but Rod looks so pleased he thinks he might be able to manage it, and then Rod is kissing him and unzipping his pants and oh, oh, oh.

Rod wraps a hand around his cock and John just melts, like every brain cell he possesses has decided to pack up for the night. He can't even bring himself to blush because Rod is touching him right there and it’s so good, it’s so good, and all he wants is more.

Rod handles him confidently, exploring what he likes: a bit faster, a bit slower, a bit more pressure, a bit less. If John could speak he’d tell him that it doesn’t matter, right now he likes everything, anything, whatever Rod wants to do to him he’d take it happily.

But Rod is a scientist, and he loves his data just as much as John does, so he does some experimentation and finds the ideal speed John likes, and the angle, and then he squeezes gently around the head and John’s orgasm explodes behind his eyes like bright, white light.

He floats for a while, like a spring that’s been twisted and twisted and finally bursts free, and he’s vaguely aware of Rod stroking his face. It’s nice, every muscle in his body slack and comfortable for once instead of clenched down tight.

“You good?” Rod asks, and John can’t help but smile.

“Very,” he mumbles, mouth lax and lazy.

Rod drops a kiss on his temple, and there’s something so casual and caring about that it makes John’s heart squeeze.

“You mind if I get myself off?” Rod asks and heat races up the back of John’s neck. He does not mind that one bit.

“Should I. Um.” He ought to offer, right? That was the polite thing. But, “I don’t really know what to do,” he admits.

Rod smiles softly at him and says, “How about you kiss me?”

And yes, John is definitely on board with that, he can do that. He puts an arm around Rod’s shoulders and pulls him closer, then kisses him: carefully at first, peppering soft pecks to his lips, and then deeper, lips sliding over each other as they grow more heated, and then finally wild and messy, slipping his tongue into Rod’s mouth while Rod pushes his pants down and works himself over.

He feels Rod’s fist bumping up against his thigh, faster and faster as he speeds up his hand, and John can’t help but glance down. He watches in fascination at the way the head of Rod’s cock peeks through his hand on each stroke, red and hard and leaking from the tip. Reflexively, he licks his lips.

Rod is making these soft groaning noises which have John entranced, like he wants to spend every spare minute he has learning how to coax them out of him. And then Rod is biting his lip, and twitching, and staring at him open-mouthed and breathing hard.

“Can I come on you?” he asks, and something in John’s brain short-circuits.

“Yes,” his mouth says for him. “Rod, god, yes.”

He can’t stop staring at the movement of Rod’s hand and, emboldened by a force he didn’t know he had in him, he reaches down to wrap his hand around Rod’s. He lets Rod guide their movements, adding a soft pressure from his fingers so they can bring him off together.

“John,” Rod sighs, full of warmth and contentment, and then he’s relaxing and coming. Fluid splatters across John’s thighs and he did that, he made Rod feel good, and that feels like the best gift of all.

Rod is soft around the edges now, smudgy like a charcoal painting, and when John asks, “Was that okay?” he pulls him closer and nuzzles into his neck, covering both of their bodies and their clothes hopelessly in come, and says, “That was perfect.”

-

John wakes up sticky, rather too hot, and filled with a roiling, anxious feeling. The bed is too small and Rod is too close, and his heart rate picks up as he looks fuzzily around the room.

He should go. He should just go, right now, before Rod wakes up and they have to talk about this and he says something wrong and ruins everything.

He’s squinting and patting at the bedside table, looking for his glasses, when he feels movement behind him.

“Morning.” Rod drops a soft kiss on his shoulder. Then he rolls over, John’s glasses in his hand, and opens them up and pops them onto his face. He slides them up John’s nose, smiles, and says, “There you are.”

And oh. All that panic seems further away once he has the armor of his glasses back, and now he can see the pillow crinkles imprinted into Rod’s cheek. He seems less like an agent of impending judgement and more like Rod, just Rod, Rod who knows him and has seen him at his worst and still, for whatever baffling reason, seems to like him.

“Hi,” he manages, and Rod beams like that was exactly the right thing to say.

“Coffee?” Rod offers. “Or shower first?”

As rare as it is for John to turn down coffee, he really is unpleasantly sticky. Deal with that problem first, he decides. “Shower,” he says, grateful that he’s not required to string together more than single words.

“Sure.” Rod gives his ass a cheeky pat as he rises, then throws him a towel.

He showers quickly and efficiently, but as he steps out and wraps a towel around himself he spots a purpling bruise on the side of his neck in the mirror. He stops to trace it with his fingers, remembering the feeling of Rod’s mouth there, hot and demanding.

“Ahh.” Rod stands in the doorway to the bathroom. “Sorry about that. I got a bit carried away.” There’s a flush on his cheeks, and he looks nervous.

John tilts his head, looks at the mark from another angle. There it is: incontrovertible evidence that he's wanted. What a fascinating concept. “Don’t be. I like it.”

“Oh.” Rod’s eyes go very round and the blush deepens. “That’s good. That’s. Ahh. Very good. I’ll just -”

Rod drops the towel from around his waist and makes for the shower, and John gets an eyeful of his half-hard cock, and then, as he walks past, an ass he has the sudden urge to sink his fingers into. A heat that’s beginning to feel familiar creeps up his neck, and he wants -

What the hell, he thinks, and he tosses his own towel aside to follow Rod back into the shower, delighting in his yelp of surprise when he slides up behind him.

-

“Shep! Think fast!”

John manages to get his hands up just in time to prevent the power bar from hitting him in the face.

“Thought you might want a snack before the mission,” Ronon says with a wink. “Just in case we have to run anywhere.”

“Hey, I’m getting better at that! I’ll catch up with you one day.”

“Sure you will.” Ronon checks the straps on John's tac vest like he always does, then says, "Looking good, buddy," and ruffles his hair.

John used to hate that, but he's given up trying to tame his hair and now he lets it stick up in whatever direction it wants. It's weird but it works.

Teyla bumps her shoulder against his as they walk toward the gate room. "What do you have for us today, John?"

“Remember that strange energy signal Major Lorne’s team picked up last week? I was able to map its topography through space and pinpoint its likely origin, and Rod took a look at the electromagnetic readings and he thinks it might be a power source -”

“So we are going to investigate the signal on P2X-884?”

“Bingo.”

Rod is standing in front of the gate like he belongs there. He claps his hands. "Ready for another thrilling adventure in the Pegasus galaxy?"

"Maybe we'll get to hunt some Wraith," Ronon says, entirely too cheerfully.

"Or discover some hideous alien parasite," Teyla joins in with a gruesome smirk.

"Or accidentally blow something up," John supplies, because that's usually how their luck goes.

"Sounds delightful." Rod grins and yells up to the gate techs, "Dial her up."

As the gate engages with a whoosh and a glow of blue light, Rod reaches out to graze his fingers against John's: a reminder, and a promise. Out of the corner of his eye, John catches his smile.

He stands a little taller, knowing his team has his back, and steps through the wormhole.