Fic: SGA: Special Delivery, Checkmate 'Verse,
Title: Special Delivery
Pairing: M/S pre-slash
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
Warnings: Animal transformation, schmoop.
Rating: For all audiences.
A/N. Somewhere around Day 14-18? I don't know. There. For those of you who worry about these things.
Special thanks to Goldberry the Brave, the cat who shook me out of my funk and shook this fic right out of my head.
Unbeta'd because I am a lazy cuss.
Constructive criticism encouraged.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When Rodney stomps back from his meeting, John is curled up in his box on Rodney’s desk, languorously washing his foot.
“Doesn’t that ever creep you out? Licking your self?”
John looks up at him, paw still curled, his gaze flat and direct.
“I didn’t mean like that.”
Twitching an ear, John goes back to work, chewing on a paw pad.
They work silently, separately, for a long moment until Rodney freezes. “Do you smell something?”
John gives him an indulgent look that screams, ”Of course I smell something, I’m a cat.” He smacks his lips slightly before starting to wash his ear.
Rodney narrows his eyes, suspicious. He leans forward and sniffs John’s neck, causing John to pull back dramatically.
“Brrrr!” he scolds.
”You smell like bacon,” Rodney hisses.
John doesn’t bother to meet his eyes, but continues to carefully wash the back of his ear.
“You’ve been flirting with people in the mess again, haven’t you?”
John trills pleasantly and rolls to show Rodney his belly, giving Rodney his most charming upside-down smile.
“Oh, don’t even. You don’t even get to do that. You knew I was in a meeting! And we always get more food if you go with -“
John yawns in his face and curls up.
Fine,”Rodney grumbles. “Some thanks I get. Waiting on you hand and foot.”
Another yawn, ending in a squeak, and John’s paw dangles over the edge of the box, right near Rodney’s fingers. Frowning, Rodney concentrates on his computer.
“McKay,” Ronon says dryly, as he strolls into Rodney’s lab. He tosses a paper-wrapped packet on the table.
“What?”
Pointing a finger at the packet, Ronon explains, “Sandwich.”
“Uh, thanks,” Rodney replies. “You’re even more laconic than usual today.” He peers at his team mate. “What happened to you? The last time you looked like that was when you tried to…” Light dawning, he turns to give Sheppard an astonished glance.
“It’s nothing,” Ronon says firmly, waving one scratched-up arm dismissively. Both arms and hands are covered in little red scratches, and some of Ronon’s dreads look kind of…chewed. One is sticking out at a right angle, something Rodney has never seen before. “Training accident.”
“Ah. Thanks for the sandwich?” Rodney opens it and gasps. Canadian Bacon.
“Don’t mention it,” Ronon demurs, backing out of the room. “Really. Don’t.”
Rodney nods and waves, already digging in.
He turns to John, chewing blissfully. “Fanks,” he says around his mouthful. He reaches out to brush his fingertip under John’s dangling paw.
John spreads his toes, smiles contentedly and curls up in his box.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pairing: M/S pre-slash
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
Warnings: Animal transformation, schmoop.
Rating: For all audiences.
A/N. Somewhere around Day 14-18? I don't know. There. For those of you who worry about these things.
Special thanks to Goldberry the Brave, the cat who shook me out of my funk and shook this fic right out of my head.
Unbeta'd because I am a lazy cuss.
Constructive criticism encouraged.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When Rodney stomps back from his meeting, John is curled up in his box on Rodney’s desk, languorously washing his foot.
“Doesn’t that ever creep you out? Licking your self?”
John looks up at him, paw still curled, his gaze flat and direct.
“I didn’t mean like that.”
Twitching an ear, John goes back to work, chewing on a paw pad.
They work silently, separately, for a long moment until Rodney freezes. “Do you smell something?”
John gives him an indulgent look that screams, ”Of course I smell something, I’m a cat.” He smacks his lips slightly before starting to wash his ear.
Rodney narrows his eyes, suspicious. He leans forward and sniffs John’s neck, causing John to pull back dramatically.
“Brrrr!” he scolds.
”You smell like bacon,” Rodney hisses.
John doesn’t bother to meet his eyes, but continues to carefully wash the back of his ear.
“You’ve been flirting with people in the mess again, haven’t you?”
John trills pleasantly and rolls to show Rodney his belly, giving Rodney his most charming upside-down smile.
“Oh, don’t even. You don’t even get to do that. You knew I was in a meeting! And we always get more food if you go with -“
John yawns in his face and curls up.
Fine,”Rodney grumbles. “Some thanks I get. Waiting on you hand and foot.”
Another yawn, ending in a squeak, and John’s paw dangles over the edge of the box, right near Rodney’s fingers. Frowning, Rodney concentrates on his computer.
“McKay,” Ronon says dryly, as he strolls into Rodney’s lab. He tosses a paper-wrapped packet on the table.
“What?”
Pointing a finger at the packet, Ronon explains, “Sandwich.”
“Uh, thanks,” Rodney replies. “You’re even more laconic than usual today.” He peers at his team mate. “What happened to you? The last time you looked like that was when you tried to…” Light dawning, he turns to give Sheppard an astonished glance.
“It’s nothing,” Ronon says firmly, waving one scratched-up arm dismissively. Both arms and hands are covered in little red scratches, and some of Ronon’s dreads look kind of…chewed. One is sticking out at a right angle, something Rodney has never seen before. “Training accident.”
“Ah. Thanks for the sandwich?” Rodney opens it and gasps. Canadian Bacon.
“Don’t mention it,” Ronon demurs, backing out of the room. “Really. Don’t.”
Rodney nods and waves, already digging in.
He turns to John, chewing blissfully. “Fanks,” he says around his mouthful. He reaches out to brush his fingertip under John’s dangling paw.
John spreads his toes, smiles contentedly and curls up in his box.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~