Author's Note: This is the very first fanfic I ever wrote, even tough I'm posting it after I've posted other things I've written since. I've edited it quite a deal since then, so hopefully you won't consider it too poorly written. ;-) There are around 5 chapters and an epilogue. Oh, and all my stories are set in early-mid season 3 . . . hope no one minds. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own none of the Stargate Franchise.

Chapter One

Deep in the jungle of an an alien planet, the three men of SGA-1 followed a barely discernible path through the underbrush. It was nearing the afternoon on Lantea, but on this planet the sun was just beginning to burn off a heavy layer of fog.. Water droplets from drooping fronds fell to the ground as they passed, making a pleasant pitter-pattering sound that lent to the general aura of a relaxing hike. The silence was broken only by the buzz of insects, the breathing of three hot people, and Dr. Rodney McKay's whining.

"Refresh my memory, Colonel," he complained, "exactly why do we have to do our own imitation of the Bataan death march through this godforsaken jungle?"

"I told you, Rodney," Sheppard replied with false patience. "Teyla went to go visit some village here two days ago, and now we're going to pick her up."

"Yes, yes, I know that much, but why aren't we taking the jumper?" McKay asked. He swatted at a loudly whirring and particularly annoying jungle insect, then made a disgusted face as he scraped its flattened carcass off his hand.

"I mean, it's not that I mind being assaulted by the Pegasus galaxy's version of the mosquito, but wouldn't it be a lot, oh, I don't know, faster?"

"Yes, right up until the point where there's nowhere to land it!" Sheppard snapped. "Look, I picked the closest place possible to village to land. It's only a couple miles out." He continued on under his breath. "As if the other whiny insects weren't annoying enough . . . "

"A couple miles!" Rodney griped, oblivious of Sheppard's remark. "Well, unlike some people I know, I spend my time making cutting edge scientific advances, not running around the city for sport. So, for me, a few miles is a little far!"

"You know one of the appealing things about the Bataan death march, McKay?" asked the colonel.

Rodney slapped at another oversized mosquito wannabe. "What?" he asked irritatedly.

"The prisoners weren't allowed to talk!"

McKay rolled his eyes. "Oh, very funny, Sheppard."

"You know Rodney," John said, "Teyla walked all the way from the gate, and yet somehow I doubt she was complaining."

"Yes, well, if she liked it so much why couldn't she walk back?"

"It's fifteen miles, McKay!" Sheppard said in an exasperated voice. "Besides, our mission was moved up to tomorrow and Elizabeth told us to go get her early."

"Oh, so now we have a mission tomorrow? Lovely. Why am I always the last person to find out about these things?"

"Maybe because you're so annoying," Ronon muttered.

"Oh, thanks so much! And what shall we say about you, Mr. Monosyllabic?"

Ronon glared at him, then turned to Sheppard. "Can I shoot him?" he asked.

Sheppard paused for a moment as though thinking about it, then shook his head. "Nah," he said, "We'd have to carry him."

"Good point."

o-o-O-o-o

The next twenty minutes of the trip were remarkably peaceful, and John actually found himself enjoying the walk. It was nice to be able to simply look at the scenery instead of having to run past it at full speed, fleeing from whatever new homicidal evil they'd accidentally disturbed. He found himself wishing more of the missions the team went on could be so uneventful. Suddenly his foot snagged a tree root, and he would have fallen if Ronon hadn't caught his arm.

"You okay?" the big man asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," John said. "Just wasn't paying attention."

In fact, it was pretty dark out, John noticed. It hadn't gotten much brighter out since they had arrived. He looked up at the sky and squinted at the dark cloud layer. So much for a nice hike on a sunny day.

A mere hundred yards later, the jungle ended at a thin strip of sandy beach. The three men stopped and stared. About half a mile out from the village, a large, flooded, and remarkably bridgeless river crossed their path.

"Oh, marvelous!" McKay complained. "What kind of idiotic Neanderthals would live right on top of a river and not build a bridge?"

"I wouldn't say that, McKay," said Sheppard as he walked over to the swollen edge of th river. "Looks like there was a bridge here. Just . . . not anymore." He waved his hand at the ground, indicating a fairly recent-looking pile of rubble.

"Oh, of course it's washed out." McKay said. "I remember now. This is the planet's rainy season. The river must have flooded and taken the bridge along with."

"Well, that's just dandy," said Sheppard. "Ronon, have you been to this planet before?"

"Yeah," the runner replied.

"Is there another bridge over this river?" Sheppard asked.

"Yeah, but it's nearly twenty-five miles north of here. It would take us way to long to go there."

"No kidding," agreed the colonel.

"If you want to get across, we're gonna have to wade it," said Ronon.

"No no no no no, I am not wading across that river!" Rodney said almost hysterically.

"And why not?" asked Sheppard, turning toward him.

"Because I barely passed swimming level one when I was a kid, and there is no way I am crossing a rushing, flooded river that's who knows how deep!" shouted McKay.

"It's not that deep, even when it's flooded," Ronon said.

"And this is supposed to be comforting? You could have gotten a basketball scholarship on Earth, 'not that deep' for you is probably over my head!"

"Shut up, McKay," Ronon said tiredly.

"No, I will not shut up! Asking me to cross that river is like—like—asking me to go jump off a cliff!" he said.

Sheppard shot him a dark look, then turned to Ronon. "Ronon, I don't know if this is such a good idea," Sheppard said quietly. "I might be able to cross this thing, but I doubt Rodney could."

"How else do you plan on getting to the village?" said Ronon.

"I don't know. We'll have to figure something else out," said Sheppard.

Ronon nodded and started to turn, then stopped. "Sheppard?"

"Yeah?"

"Do we have any rope?" the runner asked.

Sheppard looked confused for a minute, then realization dawned on his face and he smiled. "Yep."

o-o-O-o-o

A few minutes later, Ronon had one end of the rope tied to his waist, the other end tied to a tree, and was halfway across the river. It looked to be nearly neck high at its deepest point, but the runner seemed to not to be having any difficulty. Sheppard was glad they had him along. Just then Ronon reached the other side, got out, and tied the other end of the rope to another tree. He waved to them, telling them it was ready. Sheppard looked over at McKay, who had sat down on the beach and was untying his boots.

"What on earth are you doing, McKay?" he asked.

"Firstly, we're not on earth, so please use the correct terminology. Secondly, I happen to have very sensitive skin, and if I go tromping around the woods in wet boots I'll get blisters and jungle rot and all sorts of unpleasant things." McKay stood up, slung his boots around his neck and stuffed his socks in his vest pocket. "Now, are we going to go or not?"

"Yes Rodney, as a matter of fact we are." John said.

They stood there a minute.

"Any time now, McKay," Sheppard said.

"Oh, yes, right, of course." said Rodney. He started to move reluctantly out into the river, holding tightly to the rope.

The trip was uneventful, if rather slow, until they were about two-thirds of the way across the river. Then McKay tripped on a submerged rock and went down, almost losing his grip on the rope.

"McKay!" John shouted, grabbing hold of Rodney's vest. He pulled him up out of the water, but not before Rodney's boots slipped free from around his neck and floated merrily downstream.

"Are you okay?" Sheppard asked.

"Fine. A little wet." He leaned on the rope until he got his breath back. "Okay, let's go." he said. Sheppard smiled.

"Ladies first."

Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Immature little . . ."

It wasn't before they had reached the other side when Rodney noticed his boots were missing.

"Oh, great! Blisters and jungle rot were bad enough, but I'd prefer those to whatever alien fungus I'm going to get now!" he complained.

"You're the one who decided to take your boots off in the first place, McKay," said Sheppard. "Now let's keep going. The villagers are bound to have something they can lend you."

o-o-O-o-o

For about five minutes, they walked in relative silence. Sheppard was shocked McKay hadn't complained more than he did when his boots were lost. Maybe the man was getting a little more reasonable in his old age. John thought about Rodney's complaints about walking through the jungle, and he smirked. No, he wasn't getting more reasonable. He was probably just tired.

"Ow!"

"What now, Rodney?" John asked, slightly annoyed.

"I just stepped on some stupid native's idea of a practical joke, that's what!" Rodney spat.

John looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"A trap! I stepped on a stupid trap! Does that clear things up for you, captain oblivious?"

Sheppard looked at the trap now attached to the scientists foot. It looked like the thing had been lying in the grass a long time, most likely whoever had laid it had forgotten it long ago. The once sharp jaws had rusted down to barely recognizable nubs, and the tripping mechanism was so badly corroded that he was surprised it had worked at all. Still, if it had been a newer trap Rodney's foot might not have been attached to his leg anymore. He made a mental note to keep a closer eye on where he was walking.

He turned to Ronon. "Think you can get it off him?" he asked.

"Yup." The runner stepped over to Rodney bent down toward the other man's foot.

"Hey—Ow! Watch what you're doing, you unevolved ape! That's very sensitive! OW!"

Ronon flung the now unrecognizable and totally harmless trap off to the side of the trail.

"Look where you're walking next time," Ronon muttered.

"Yes, thank you so much!" said Rodney, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Did you really have to pull so hard? The concept was to release the thing, not rip my foot off! Good grief, I think you broke the skin!"

Ronon looked like he seriously considering shooting him. Sheppard slapped Ronon comfortingly on the arm, and turned to continue down the path.

"Buck up, McKay," he called over his shoulder. "It's just a scratch." Ronon followed him, leaving Rodney no choice but to do the same. But not as quietly.

"Oh, that's right. Mock the injured, shoeless man! You know, if Conan here hadn't insisted that we wade that river I wouldn't even be in this predicament. Did you see the rust on that trap? I could get tetanus! I'm going to have to get a shot when we get back to Atlantis . . ." McKay trailed off, mumbling under his breath about the unfairness of the world.

Sheppard and Ronon just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

o-o-O-o-o

For the next few minutes, peace and tranquility reigned as they tromped through the foliage. John noticed that McKay was limping a bit and lagging behind. John slowed the pace a bit, giving the scientist time to catch up.

"How far is this stupid village?" Rodney whined, sounding rather like a petulant child. An annoying petulant child. "We've been walking for hours."

"Actually, it's only been fifteen minutes, and it should be just over this hill," said Sheppard.

"Oh, thank goodness," said McKay, sounding genuinely relieved. His foot had been aching a bit, and he was looking forward to sitting down in a chair and dunking his sore feet in a bucket of hot water. As he neared the top of the hill, he realized that Ronon and Sheppard had stopped at the crest and were staring aghast at what lay below. He walked up beside them and looked down at the scene below.

The village had been completely decimated.

TBC . . .

A/N: As you can see, thing's aren't going to be all fun and games for our dashing heroes. Later chapters will have a significantly changed banter/action ratio. How else could I get that whump in there? ;-) Reviews are loved and cherished! :-)