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omg_wtf_yeahTitle: The Long Engagement (4/16)
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (McShep)
Secondary Pairings: background McKay/Keller (predating McShep), Teyla/Ronon
Words: about 51,222
Summary: McShep Steampunk!Atlantis AU. Acrobat John Sheppard of Sheppard Circus Co. unintentionally navigates his troupe into Lantean territory and runs afoul the mistrustful leader of Atlantis, Dr. Rodney McKay. While the troupe plays shows for the Lanteans, Rodney proposes that he and John's adopted sister, Jennifer, get engaged. To get his way and John's blessing, Rodney has to convince John that he's good for John's sister, but his plans go awry as the men get closer and what Rodney wants begins to change.
Notes: My SGA Big Bang entry. Thank you, my superawesome betas:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ishie and teenygozer, my friends: kay_greatness, mad_lynn, and murderdetective, and my artists: fractalreality, saldemonium, and cynicatlantis.
Art: I was fortunate to get three artists who created amazing companion art for the story. I was blown away by what they came up with, it was so perfect and amazing. I completely, totally love them. So, please, check them out!
Full Story on the SGA Big Bang server
Four
By noon, they hitched a team of four horses to a charabanc. The carriage had two benches beneath a canopy, built for the transport of eight in all to travel across the plain – it was the type of cart farmers used for hay rides in the country, Lorne said cheerfully as he climbed in. John arched an eyebrow at Aiden Ford, who smiled good-naturedly as he followed Lorne.
John took the driver's seat with Elizabeth and the others sat in the back under the tan canopy on bench seats across from each other. Elizabeth had chosen John, Lorne, Teyla, Beckett, Ronon, Ford and Miko to go and somehow, John turned to find Jennifer climbing into the wagon without his realizing that she was coming along.
She lifted her head and caught his eyes, knitting her eyebrows. She sat down and brushed dust from the sky blue skirt of her polonaise. "What?" she asked defensively, compressing her lips into a thin, pink line. She gestured to Beckett. "I'm helping Carson."
John shook his head severely and, as he turned away, Beckett smiled kindly at the younger woman and patted her arm affectionately.
John took the reins in his hands as Elizabeth climbed the steps onto the driver's seat, smoothing her skirt over her knee as she sat beside him. "Why is Jennifer going again?" John muttered pointedly into his scarf.
Elizabeth's pale eyes went back to Jennifer over her shoulder, turning at the waist, before she focused on him again. Shaking her head, she looked undisturbed by his query.
"She's been a valuable veterinary aid to Beckett for the last few months and a highly intelligent, diplomatic member of the troupe, all of which I think you agree with," she replied lowly.
John did but his hazel stare was unimpressed, anyway.
"And," Elizabeth continued, one corner of her mouth lifting, "she asked." Jennifer's volunteering was unexpected. There must have been another reason for her coming.
John narrowed his eyes and drew the reins into his hands, tipping his head back. In his peripheral vision, he caught the low flash of light over metal and McKay's sledge moving into the lead. "That's the truth, huh?" he muttered.
Elizabeth's smile was humoring as John snapped the reins and the horses strained, pulling forward. The cart's wheels creaked, turning as the horses broke into a slow trot. John turned his eyes away from her and drove the horses on wordlessly.
At midday, the valley seemed larger than at nightfall; a great expanse spread out around them as they started out, following the flurry of snow driven up by the sledge. The two vehicles made tracks in the ice in the shape of horse hooves, the deep grooves made by McKay's machine and narrow channels the width of the wheels of the cart. And all around them, the plain was a wide, flat bowl of snow with the black mountaintops at its rim like a glazed earthenware dish of watered-down milk. Off-focus light permeated the pale sky overhead, pushing through colorless clouds that overlaid it; a soft light that pierced the eye and made John narrow his as he snapped the reins lightly, following McKay. The cold struck their faces and dyed their skin soft pink. The riders pulled their coats closer and covered their faces in scarves or their coats or, as Ford did, blew into their cupped hands.
The camp receded in the distance behind them until it was a small scattering of tents and wagons like a child's discarded toys left out in the snow. John didn't bother to look back.
"Well, this is nice," he heard Beckett say brightly from the back seat. "It's a nice chance to get away from camp."
Aiden Ford's cheerful voice came in reply across the wagon from the other seat, "What're you going to get there, doc? Just the meds?" His smile was almost audible in his voice.
John tuned them out, fixing his eyes ahead on McKay's sledge as they moved forward. His chest was tight with anticipation – somewhat hoping, somewhat not. His mind was on the book in his wagon – the ancient city in the ink prints. It was impossible to know what to expect – maybe something like Vienna, something like the ruins of Greece, perhaps a sprawling city made of white stone.
The grooves left by McKay's sledge were like the lines on a map, guiding them onward. As the camp grew small in the distance, like something one could hold in their hand, the mountains rose up before them. The sound of the horse hooves in the frost was like the ticking of a metronome as they crossed toward the mountain range. What hadn't been visible before became clear – the copse at the foot of the mountains, gray in the winter like a bird's nest. The interwoven branches of the trees obscured a darkened path beneath them. It yawned ahead of them.
McKay's vehicle darted into the opening and was lost from sight. Beside John, Elizabeth's spine was rigid. The conversation from the back of the cart dwindled and died away. First, the shadows of the trees above them patterned the ground and shifted over the wagon, ever widening, until the darkness was solid and impenetrable by the sun above. The charabanc followed McKay's vehicle and plunged into inky darkness of the tunnel.
The sound of the horses' hooves on the ground changed, hollowing and sharpening and reverberating and John guessed that they were under the mountain, buried beneath hundreds of tons of stone. At his back, there was a muted whisper and Beckett softly said, "Now, now."
At a distance, a light bloomed and grew in size until the corridor around them was illuminated by torches hung at even distances on smooth, stone walls. Metal crossbeams arched over them like the ribs of a whale.
Ahead of them, McKay's sledge shot toward a slate colored light at the end of the tunnel. The charabanc passed beneath the measured beams and came out into fog in an enormous opening. The sky was in view overhead and the tunnel was behind them in the sloping face of the black stone. John pulled back on the reins as the shape of McKay's vehicle emerged in the vapor and the scientist stood beside it, his broad figure in a black suit and frock coat.
The horses pulled up short and pawed at the stone beneath their hooves. John draped the reins over the seat, climbing down as McKay came forward, withdrawing a gloved hand from his pocket.
"Atlantis," he said indifferently, gesturing to the expanse of brume.
The troupe drew up near him in a loose crowd, looking to the direction he'd indicated. Then, suddenly, through the mist, Atlantis was visible, its spires thrusting skyward from the body of a lake as reflective as a silver disc.
On every side, the black mountain range closed the water in – falls like thin, silvery threads tumbling through thick, white mist on the water. The towers were wrought of bronze and glass, welded together by thick beams of metal like corset boning, as though restraining something sentient, alive. The city was like a lily pad on the water, like something organic because metal had never looked so supple and cognizant. It gave off the feeling of a flower and a copper arachnid.
John's hazel eyes moved over the city, moving forward slowly. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat. His chest was tight as a trap around the pounding beat of his heart. The feeling of discovery was like flying.
His black leather boots slowed in shallow water, sending out thin wavelets that widened across the lake. Much bigger than Vienna, then.
His mouth slackened as he tugged his scarf from around his flushed face and, through the mist and the vapor of his breath on the frozen air, he peered up at the city. The magnitude of Atlantis was staggering and his astonishment suppressed the rhythm of his chest. His figure was a thin black blade in soft white fog and a sea of silver, tiny in the yawning space between them and the city and the magnitude of the city itself.
Elizabeth came forward to stand by McKay. "Thank you again for having us," she said, "We appreciate the gesture."
The scientist made a face, looking away awkwardly. "Right. It's, um, nothing."
As the others moved forward, John fell behind, staring up at the city.
McKay queued nearby, speaking to the other, when he turned and said, "Oh, of course." His pale gaze dropped over John's features briefly before he turned back to the city and said, "It does have that…effect, seeing it for the first time."
John stared at McKay's broad shoulders, shaking his surprise off. "It's all right," he said, offering a shrug.
The scientist scoffed. "It's the city of the ancients. It's a little more than all right." His irritable voice was muffled in the sound of the distant falls.
He turned and regarded Evan Lorne impatiently. "You can tie your horses off over there," he instructed, gesturing to a recessed shelf in the stone where a metal bar ran from side to side of the cavity.
He withdrew from inside his shirt a copper chain, hanging with three baubles. As he pulled the chain over his head, it was apparent that it was composed of three threads instead of a singular cable and that the baubles hung independently on each strand. The chain itself was woven in a complicated knot, the metal light and silky. The pendants were keys shaped like clovers, fashioned from copper and glass and engraved with a thin, intricate pattern.
"Move," McKay said, coming to stand by Miko. The thin woman appeared startled and obligingly stepped aside at McKay's impatient gesture. Then he crouched in the low water and pressed the first key into a hollow John hadn't noticed. From the ground, the scientist tossed the second key to Aiden and the young man caught it against his chest, looking curiously at McKay.
"Make yourself useful," McKay instructed. "Under your feet."
Aiden paused and looked to John, who shrugged then nodded. After a moment, the younger man knelt and pressed the key into a similar cleft. "It doesn't go in all the way," Ford said pragmatically, looking up at McKay.
The scientist rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously," he retorted. "Otherwise, you couldn't get them out." Despite the doctor's snarky tone, Ford nodded and looked earnestly interested.
"And the last key," McKay said, handing the chain to Teyla. "Right up there," he nodded to the place with his head.
Teyla lifted her brows, taking the key, she took a few slow steps backward and scanned the ground.
"No, right-yes, there," McKay instructed.
Suddenly, Teyla found the key hole and knelt, the water darkening the fabric of her pant leg. She pressed the key into the hollow with a small, narrow hand before looking up at McKay.
John was still, waiting, and on the ground McKay looked to the others. "On my word, turn the keys counterclockwise until you hear a click." His voice was like an orator's, expounding on an uninterested class. John's heartbeat seemed suspended for a moment. "Now," McKay said clearly.
The three of them turned the keys and three clicks sounded on the air. "And again," McKay said. Another click and John's heart pounded. "Once more."
On the final click, the surface of the water shivered and gave way as a wide walkway paved in stone rose from beneath the surface. Beckett's mouth fell open and Jennifer lifted a hand to hers. Their blue eyes were wide and amazed. Behind them, Elizabeth gazed up at the city with satisfaction.
"The walkways utilize water pressure, somewhat similar to a canal," McKay explained, standing up smoothly.
John pulled his eyes from the path and the city, looking at the other man. The scientist's stare was on the city, half turned from him. His features were suffused with pleasure. John said nothing but felt something stir in him he didn't identify.
After a moment, McKay walked past the troupe toward the city. His black shoes created ripples on the water as he walked out onto the path. "It's relatively simple but it gets the job done," he said dismissively. As he turned back to look at them, his stare fell on John. One side of his mouth turned up and John's chest was tight.
He arched an eyebrow at the scientist and frowned, walking forward. "Yeah, I see that," he replied. "Not bad," he said, passing McKay.
"Not bad," McKay repeated indignantly. "Oh, whatever."
A thin sheath of water overspread the path and the black stone from which it was made blended with the dark water, rendering the walkway nearly invisible. The paths themselves were wide enough for twelve to stand abreast with space between them and possibly twenty at once if they stood closely enough.
The troupe treaded cautiously on the stones and their boots sent ripples over the water. John walked ahead and stepped up to the edge of the stone path. The toes of his boots kissed the edge of empty space and he peered down into the water below the walk. The lake appeared clear and cold but the depths were as fathomless as the vaults of the misty sky above them, black as Indian ink. It might be hundreds of feet deep and the mechanisms lifting and submerging the walkways were hidden in the depths. For a moment, a glimmer of something like metal caught light like the lapping currents of the lake as it slid beneath the stone path. John narrowed his eyes and tried to fix his gaze on it but it was gone.
"Lake ever freeze?" Ronon asked gruffly from the back of the group, looking around. John glanced back over his shoulder to see McKay scowling at the taller man.
"Your first visit to the city of the ancients and you ask if we have to salt the paths," he announced sarcastically.
The taller man was expressionless. "Yeah," he replied flatly.
John grinned, looking askance from the two men as he started forward again.
They walked toward the city and it rose to unimaginable heights above them as they came nearer. It was spread out, six sided like a flower, sprawling over a massive space. Narrow, coiled beams, wires and ladders spread out from the city to the walls of the mountains around it like spider webs. There were six piers made of metal, hundreds of feet across and thousands of feet long. Clusters of towers pierced the sky above, hedged by wide paved walkways. Beyond those outcroppings, the city folded out and outward, stretching on beyond anything they'd ever seen. The piers were fifty to a hundred feet tall, building out of the water, and from the walkway below, John could see but little of the whole city.
As they came closer, the shape of wide, steep metal stairs became clear between two piers that rose like plateaus on either side. Clear, icy water cascaded from vents in the piers – maybe aqueducts, Sheppard wasn't sure.
On the stairs, a pale woman with fine, flaxen hair pulled into a knot was waiting. Her narrow frame was contoured in a cornflower skirt and matching day jacket with a high neckline and pearl buttons – a small, golden locket winked in the light, pinned over her right breast.
McKay climbed the steps toward her and half-turned, gesturing between the troupe and the blonde. John came to stop, looking up at them, one foot on the first step, the other on the pathway. Elizabeth and Aiden were on the step above him, the others on the path behind.
"This is my assistant, Nola," McKay said curtly.
The corners of the woman's lips turned up demurely and she said, "Sheppard Circus Company, welcome to Atlantis."
One step down, McKay rolled his eyes, smiling mockingly. "Yeah…. We've kind of been over that before," he announced airily.
Part Five
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (McShep)
Secondary Pairings: background McKay/Keller (predating McShep), Teyla/Ronon
Words: about 51,222
Summary: McShep Steampunk!Atlantis AU. Acrobat John Sheppard of Sheppard Circus Co. unintentionally navigates his troupe into Lantean territory and runs afoul the mistrustful leader of Atlantis, Dr. Rodney McKay. While the troupe plays shows for the Lanteans, Rodney proposes that he and John's adopted sister, Jennifer, get engaged. To get his way and John's blessing, Rodney has to convince John that he's good for John's sister, but his plans go awry as the men get closer and what Rodney wants begins to change.
Notes: My SGA Big Bang entry. Thank you, my superawesome betas:
ishie and teenygozer, my friends: kay_greatness, mad_lynn, and murderdetective, and my artists: fractalreality, saldemonium, and cynicatlantis. Art: I was fortunate to get three artists who created amazing companion art for the story. I was blown away by what they came up with, it was so perfect and amazing. I completely, totally love them. So, please, check them out!
By noon, they hitched a team of four horses to a charabanc. The carriage had two benches beneath a canopy, built for the transport of eight in all to travel across the plain – it was the type of cart farmers used for hay rides in the country, Lorne said cheerfully as he climbed in. John arched an eyebrow at Aiden Ford, who smiled good-naturedly as he followed Lorne.
John took the driver's seat with Elizabeth and the others sat in the back under the tan canopy on bench seats across from each other. Elizabeth had chosen John, Lorne, Teyla, Beckett, Ronon, Ford and Miko to go and somehow, John turned to find Jennifer climbing into the wagon without his realizing that she was coming along.
She lifted her head and caught his eyes, knitting her eyebrows. She sat down and brushed dust from the sky blue skirt of her polonaise. "What?" she asked defensively, compressing her lips into a thin, pink line. She gestured to Beckett. "I'm helping Carson."
John shook his head severely and, as he turned away, Beckett smiled kindly at the younger woman and patted her arm affectionately.
John took the reins in his hands as Elizabeth climbed the steps onto the driver's seat, smoothing her skirt over her knee as she sat beside him. "Why is Jennifer going again?" John muttered pointedly into his scarf.
Elizabeth's pale eyes went back to Jennifer over her shoulder, turning at the waist, before she focused on him again. Shaking her head, she looked undisturbed by his query.
"She's been a valuable veterinary aid to Beckett for the last few months and a highly intelligent, diplomatic member of the troupe, all of which I think you agree with," she replied lowly.
John did but his hazel stare was unimpressed, anyway.
"And," Elizabeth continued, one corner of her mouth lifting, "she asked." Jennifer's volunteering was unexpected. There must have been another reason for her coming.
John narrowed his eyes and drew the reins into his hands, tipping his head back. In his peripheral vision, he caught the low flash of light over metal and McKay's sledge moving into the lead. "That's the truth, huh?" he muttered.
Elizabeth's smile was humoring as John snapped the reins and the horses strained, pulling forward. The cart's wheels creaked, turning as the horses broke into a slow trot. John turned his eyes away from her and drove the horses on wordlessly.
At midday, the valley seemed larger than at nightfall; a great expanse spread out around them as they started out, following the flurry of snow driven up by the sledge. The two vehicles made tracks in the ice in the shape of horse hooves, the deep grooves made by McKay's machine and narrow channels the width of the wheels of the cart. And all around them, the plain was a wide, flat bowl of snow with the black mountaintops at its rim like a glazed earthenware dish of watered-down milk. Off-focus light permeated the pale sky overhead, pushing through colorless clouds that overlaid it; a soft light that pierced the eye and made John narrow his as he snapped the reins lightly, following McKay. The cold struck their faces and dyed their skin soft pink. The riders pulled their coats closer and covered their faces in scarves or their coats or, as Ford did, blew into their cupped hands.
The camp receded in the distance behind them until it was a small scattering of tents and wagons like a child's discarded toys left out in the snow. John didn't bother to look back.
"Well, this is nice," he heard Beckett say brightly from the back seat. "It's a nice chance to get away from camp."
Aiden Ford's cheerful voice came in reply across the wagon from the other seat, "What're you going to get there, doc? Just the meds?" His smile was almost audible in his voice.
John tuned them out, fixing his eyes ahead on McKay's sledge as they moved forward. His chest was tight with anticipation – somewhat hoping, somewhat not. His mind was on the book in his wagon – the ancient city in the ink prints. It was impossible to know what to expect – maybe something like Vienna, something like the ruins of Greece, perhaps a sprawling city made of white stone.
The grooves left by McKay's sledge were like the lines on a map, guiding them onward. As the camp grew small in the distance, like something one could hold in their hand, the mountains rose up before them. The sound of the horse hooves in the frost was like the ticking of a metronome as they crossed toward the mountain range. What hadn't been visible before became clear – the copse at the foot of the mountains, gray in the winter like a bird's nest. The interwoven branches of the trees obscured a darkened path beneath them. It yawned ahead of them.
McKay's vehicle darted into the opening and was lost from sight. Beside John, Elizabeth's spine was rigid. The conversation from the back of the cart dwindled and died away. First, the shadows of the trees above them patterned the ground and shifted over the wagon, ever widening, until the darkness was solid and impenetrable by the sun above. The charabanc followed McKay's vehicle and plunged into inky darkness of the tunnel.
The sound of the horses' hooves on the ground changed, hollowing and sharpening and reverberating and John guessed that they were under the mountain, buried beneath hundreds of tons of stone. At his back, there was a muted whisper and Beckett softly said, "Now, now."
At a distance, a light bloomed and grew in size until the corridor around them was illuminated by torches hung at even distances on smooth, stone walls. Metal crossbeams arched over them like the ribs of a whale.
Ahead of them, McKay's sledge shot toward a slate colored light at the end of the tunnel. The charabanc passed beneath the measured beams and came out into fog in an enormous opening. The sky was in view overhead and the tunnel was behind them in the sloping face of the black stone. John pulled back on the reins as the shape of McKay's vehicle emerged in the vapor and the scientist stood beside it, his broad figure in a black suit and frock coat.
The horses pulled up short and pawed at the stone beneath their hooves. John draped the reins over the seat, climbing down as McKay came forward, withdrawing a gloved hand from his pocket.
"Atlantis," he said indifferently, gesturing to the expanse of brume.
The troupe drew up near him in a loose crowd, looking to the direction he'd indicated. Then, suddenly, through the mist, Atlantis was visible, its spires thrusting skyward from the body of a lake as reflective as a silver disc.
On every side, the black mountain range closed the water in – falls like thin, silvery threads tumbling through thick, white mist on the water. The towers were wrought of bronze and glass, welded together by thick beams of metal like corset boning, as though restraining something sentient, alive. The city was like a lily pad on the water, like something organic because metal had never looked so supple and cognizant. It gave off the feeling of a flower and a copper arachnid.
John's hazel eyes moved over the city, moving forward slowly. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat. His chest was tight as a trap around the pounding beat of his heart. The feeling of discovery was like flying.
His black leather boots slowed in shallow water, sending out thin wavelets that widened across the lake. Much bigger than Vienna, then.
His mouth slackened as he tugged his scarf from around his flushed face and, through the mist and the vapor of his breath on the frozen air, he peered up at the city. The magnitude of Atlantis was staggering and his astonishment suppressed the rhythm of his chest. His figure was a thin black blade in soft white fog and a sea of silver, tiny in the yawning space between them and the city and the magnitude of the city itself.
Elizabeth came forward to stand by McKay. "Thank you again for having us," she said, "We appreciate the gesture."
The scientist made a face, looking away awkwardly. "Right. It's, um, nothing."
As the others moved forward, John fell behind, staring up at the city.
McKay queued nearby, speaking to the other, when he turned and said, "Oh, of course." His pale gaze dropped over John's features briefly before he turned back to the city and said, "It does have that…effect, seeing it for the first time."
John stared at McKay's broad shoulders, shaking his surprise off. "It's all right," he said, offering a shrug.
The scientist scoffed. "It's the city of the ancients. It's a little more than all right." His irritable voice was muffled in the sound of the distant falls.
He turned and regarded Evan Lorne impatiently. "You can tie your horses off over there," he instructed, gesturing to a recessed shelf in the stone where a metal bar ran from side to side of the cavity.
He withdrew from inside his shirt a copper chain, hanging with three baubles. As he pulled the chain over his head, it was apparent that it was composed of three threads instead of a singular cable and that the baubles hung independently on each strand. The chain itself was woven in a complicated knot, the metal light and silky. The pendants were keys shaped like clovers, fashioned from copper and glass and engraved with a thin, intricate pattern.
"Move," McKay said, coming to stand by Miko. The thin woman appeared startled and obligingly stepped aside at McKay's impatient gesture. Then he crouched in the low water and pressed the first key into a hollow John hadn't noticed. From the ground, the scientist tossed the second key to Aiden and the young man caught it against his chest, looking curiously at McKay.
"Make yourself useful," McKay instructed. "Under your feet."
Aiden paused and looked to John, who shrugged then nodded. After a moment, the younger man knelt and pressed the key into a similar cleft. "It doesn't go in all the way," Ford said pragmatically, looking up at McKay.
The scientist rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously," he retorted. "Otherwise, you couldn't get them out." Despite the doctor's snarky tone, Ford nodded and looked earnestly interested.
"And the last key," McKay said, handing the chain to Teyla. "Right up there," he nodded to the place with his head.
Teyla lifted her brows, taking the key, she took a few slow steps backward and scanned the ground.
"No, right-yes, there," McKay instructed.
Suddenly, Teyla found the key hole and knelt, the water darkening the fabric of her pant leg. She pressed the key into the hollow with a small, narrow hand before looking up at McKay.
John was still, waiting, and on the ground McKay looked to the others. "On my word, turn the keys counterclockwise until you hear a click." His voice was like an orator's, expounding on an uninterested class. John's heartbeat seemed suspended for a moment. "Now," McKay said clearly.
The three of them turned the keys and three clicks sounded on the air. "And again," McKay said. Another click and John's heart pounded. "Once more."
On the final click, the surface of the water shivered and gave way as a wide walkway paved in stone rose from beneath the surface. Beckett's mouth fell open and Jennifer lifted a hand to hers. Their blue eyes were wide and amazed. Behind them, Elizabeth gazed up at the city with satisfaction.
"The walkways utilize water pressure, somewhat similar to a canal," McKay explained, standing up smoothly.
John pulled his eyes from the path and the city, looking at the other man. The scientist's stare was on the city, half turned from him. His features were suffused with pleasure. John said nothing but felt something stir in him he didn't identify.
After a moment, McKay walked past the troupe toward the city. His black shoes created ripples on the water as he walked out onto the path. "It's relatively simple but it gets the job done," he said dismissively. As he turned back to look at them, his stare fell on John. One side of his mouth turned up and John's chest was tight.
He arched an eyebrow at the scientist and frowned, walking forward. "Yeah, I see that," he replied. "Not bad," he said, passing McKay.
"Not bad," McKay repeated indignantly. "Oh, whatever."
A thin sheath of water overspread the path and the black stone from which it was made blended with the dark water, rendering the walkway nearly invisible. The paths themselves were wide enough for twelve to stand abreast with space between them and possibly twenty at once if they stood closely enough.
The troupe treaded cautiously on the stones and their boots sent ripples over the water. John walked ahead and stepped up to the edge of the stone path. The toes of his boots kissed the edge of empty space and he peered down into the water below the walk. The lake appeared clear and cold but the depths were as fathomless as the vaults of the misty sky above them, black as Indian ink. It might be hundreds of feet deep and the mechanisms lifting and submerging the walkways were hidden in the depths. For a moment, a glimmer of something like metal caught light like the lapping currents of the lake as it slid beneath the stone path. John narrowed his eyes and tried to fix his gaze on it but it was gone.
"Lake ever freeze?" Ronon asked gruffly from the back of the group, looking around. John glanced back over his shoulder to see McKay scowling at the taller man.
"Your first visit to the city of the ancients and you ask if we have to salt the paths," he announced sarcastically.
The taller man was expressionless. "Yeah," he replied flatly.
John grinned, looking askance from the two men as he started forward again.
They walked toward the city and it rose to unimaginable heights above them as they came nearer. It was spread out, six sided like a flower, sprawling over a massive space. Narrow, coiled beams, wires and ladders spread out from the city to the walls of the mountains around it like spider webs. There were six piers made of metal, hundreds of feet across and thousands of feet long. Clusters of towers pierced the sky above, hedged by wide paved walkways. Beyond those outcroppings, the city folded out and outward, stretching on beyond anything they'd ever seen. The piers were fifty to a hundred feet tall, building out of the water, and from the walkway below, John could see but little of the whole city.
As they came closer, the shape of wide, steep metal stairs became clear between two piers that rose like plateaus on either side. Clear, icy water cascaded from vents in the piers – maybe aqueducts, Sheppard wasn't sure.
On the stairs, a pale woman with fine, flaxen hair pulled into a knot was waiting. Her narrow frame was contoured in a cornflower skirt and matching day jacket with a high neckline and pearl buttons – a small, golden locket winked in the light, pinned over her right breast.
McKay climbed the steps toward her and half-turned, gesturing between the troupe and the blonde. John came to stop, looking up at them, one foot on the first step, the other on the pathway. Elizabeth and Aiden were on the step above him, the others on the path behind.
"This is my assistant, Nola," McKay said curtly.
The corners of the woman's lips turned up demurely and she said, "Sheppard Circus Company, welcome to Atlantis."
One step down, McKay rolled his eyes, smiling mockingly. "Yeah…. We've kind of been over that before," he announced airily.
