If you've been wondering why I've been absent so much lately, here's one of the reasons. I've been busy writing and editing a new gen fic for the Jumper Three zine this year. This is the third time I've been part of this zine and it's always an honor to be invited back each year. Brate and her crew always turn out a wonderful zine full of gen John and Rodney friendship fics and this year promises to be no different.
Here's Brate's announcement for the zine with all the details on how to get one yourself:
Howdy! I want to announce another edition of the Stargate: Atlantis zine "Jumper
Three," which will be premiering this Memorial Day weekend at the MediaWest
Convention in Lansing, Michigan. We have some amazing stories from fabulous
authors and I am very excited about this year's release.
The zine format is a little different this time – we have it as a perfect-bound
paperback. You can read it on the plane, train, bus… but please not in the car
unless you're a passenger!
Story summaries are listed at the site. All of the stories are brand new, and
will not be posted online for a year after publication.
The zine is $19 in person at the con, and $22 mail (cont. U.S.). We take Paypal,
or you can email me for an address where you can send a check or money order.
This is a limited print run. Once we run out, the zine will be distributed
through Agent with Style, using their format and pricing.
Thank you! I hope to see you at the con, or hear from you,
Also, I've posted an exerpt from my fic, Dangling Participles, that will be included in the zine.
John didn't wait for an answer, just used his legs to give an easy push off the wall toward McKay. Rodney grabbed blindly onto John's vest as soon as he gripped McKay's bicep. They swung back into the wall, this time with just a bump that still had Sheppard biting his lower lip until it nearly bled to keep from crying out against the pain in his broken arm.
"John?" Rodney asked in obvious concern.
Sheppard ignored the worry and the throbbing that ran from wrist to shoulder as best he could and grunted out, "Can you reach the bandage in my vest pocket?"
McKay's hands were shaking as he fumbled the Velcro open and pulled out the field dressing. He tilted his head in a futile attempt to keep the blood from running in his eye, but, fortunately, he never let go of John's vest.
When Rodney had the bandage out, Sheppard cautioned, "Okay, I'm going to let go of you so I can take the bandage, so hold on."
"Trust me; I'm not going through that whole hurtling through the dark episode again," Rodney assured as his grip shook even more as he tightened it.
Sheppard tentatively released his hold, but Rodney's remained secure. This time when he pressed the bandage to McKay's head, the injured man hissed at the touch but didn't let go.
Rodney seemed to be lucid enough to make small talk, so John decided it would be best to keep it up and hopefully keep McKay's mind off his injury. "Come on, haven't you ever ridden Space Mountain?"
"Yes, I've ridden Space Mountain." Rodney closed his eyes and swallowed, as if concentrating on not throwing up again—an act John was more than thankful for. "I've just never done it with what feels like a hangover…after I drank enough to not only eat the worm…but enjoy it."
"Yeah, I can see how that could take the fun out of the experience." When McKay groaned in misery as they continued to swing, John suggested. "Maybe we should talk about something besides tequila and rollercoasters."
Rodney cracked his eyes open hopefully. "Like maybe how we're going to get the hell back up from here?"
"Ronon and Teyla will haul us up when they come back with the others."
"Was I out longer than I thought?" McKay scoffed. "Because that could be over an hour."
As excited as Atlantis had been about the discovery of a new Ancient facility, Sheppard knew it took time to gather personnel and equipment, especially scientists. That said, Rodney probably wasn't too far off on his predication of how long it would be before anyone came back to help them.
"Well, then, try to look on the bright side," Sheppard suggested, using a corner of the bandage to wipe the blood away from McKay's eye before resuming the pressure against the wound.
"What bright side?" Rodney demanded. "All I see is darkness and you with a broken arm and me with a cracked skull—"
"It's not cracked," John argued, at least it better not be. McKay slipping into a coma from a fractured skull would just be the icing on the goddamned cake of this day, but Rodney seemed to be growing more alert, not to mention bitchier, by the minute. Sheppard took that as a good sign.
Rodney snorted. "Oh, so now you have x-ray vision? If that's the case, why don't you fly us out of here, Kal-El?"
"You're not impressed with my Fortress of Solitude?" John carefully lifted the bandage to check the bleeding and put it back in place when it continued to flow. "That really hurts my feelings, McKay."
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love for you to be able to fly us up and out and back to Atlantis where at least someone with a degree in medicine could treat me."
Sheppard frowned at the rant. "You know, maybe you should loosen your hold on my vest after all."
But if anything, McKay's knuckles turned whiter and his eyes darted up into the darkness above them.
"What?" John asked in worry, trying to listen for whatever had caught Rodney's attention.
"Don't you hear it?" Rodney asked in a harsh whisper.
Holding his breath, John concentrated on blocking out the sound of their gear creaking and the occasional clink of the rings and carabineers of their harnesses knocking against one another. There. Rodney had obviously heard it, too, because he gave Sheppard's vest a little shake.
A squeak. Faint and far away. Then another, as if in response to the first.
The critters they'd heard before were obviously back.
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