Someone always wanted something - to kill them, take them captive, beat the shit out of them. Some people wanted to do all three - not necessarily in that order. But these people, these people were a breath of fresh air. Or, rather, a breath of pot-laden air, a nice pile of pillows and a seemingly-endless supply of lube with a slightly spicy scent and warming properties.

Rodney had to admit that the sight of Ronon backdooring Teyla about three feet away was pretty damn inspirational, too. He glanced wistfully at John, sleeping with Rodney's come drying on his forehead and in his hair. Turning back, he caught Teyla looking at him, her eyes wide and dark. She gave him a breathless smile.

"Room over there for a third?" he asked.