Best Laid Plans
Title: Best Laid Plans
Author: Argosy
Wordcount: 1645 words.
Rating: PG
Notes: Thank you to Cate for another fabulous round of mcsmooch. So glad I got one in!
Summary: John didn't really believe the date was going to happen--Carter would come to her senses, or Rodney would chicken out, or--if worse came to worse--Atlantis itself would recognize it for the abomination it was and sink into the ocean.
Seven months into her posting as Atlantis expedition leader, Carter finally agreed to go on a date with Rodney.
He'd been asking her once every week before the Tuesday morning staff meeting--"to keep in practice," he'd told John. He never actually expected her to agree.
Yet here they were, all set for dinner Saturday night in the small banquet room they only used when the IOA or a visiting trade partner needed to be impressed. John didn't know if Carter had agreed so that she could let Rodney down easy once and for all, or if she was impressed with his growth as a human being since she'd known him on Earth, or if she was just plain bored. What he wouldn't give for a good Wraith attack right now.
In the end, it didn't matter why she'd agreed to go out with Rodney. What mattered was that John had never seen Rodney so excited by anything before--including the time they'd found a three-quarters-full ZPM on PX3-997. It was days before the big occasion, and Rodney had already shown up at his door three times--to ask if John knew where he could get a bottle of wine, and to see if John thought it was tacky to ask Katie Brown for flowers, and one time just to gloat.
John gritted his teeth, and got Rodney his wine, and didn't let him go to Katie for flowers, though he was supremely tempted. He didn't really believe the date was going to happen--Carter would come to her senses, or Rodney would chicken out, or--if worse came to worse--Atlantis itself would recognize it for the abomination it was and sink into the ocean.
Yet Saturday kept creeping inexorably forward, and Friday night John found himself in Rodney's quarters viewing a selection of possible date-night outfits. Rodney, thank God, was not trying to model the clothes, but had instead laid them out on the bed.
"Well?" he asked impatiently. John didn't miss the note of desperation in his voice.
Rodney really wanted this to go well. John sighed. Okay, he could be a pal. He didn't know why he needed him for this; if Rodney wasn't so earth-shatteringly oblivious, he would have suspected torture. It wasn't like there were a lot of choices. It came down to gray BDUs, black BDUs, or some godawful civilian outfit featuring pants with some kind of swear-to-Christ plaid pattern.
It was a close thing, but in the end John took the high road. "Black BDUs," he said. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Rodney smiled happily and clapped him on the shoulder.
John woke up early Saturday morning with the sudden and certain knowledge this date was really going to happen. No killer storm was on the horizon, the slacker Wraith were all tucked asleep in their hives, and Atlantis was safely afloat. It was up to him.
He put his plan into motion at precisely 1700, tapping his radio. "McKay," he said in his most no-nonsense tone. "Get your ass to the jumper bay."
"What?" Rodney answered a moment later, sounding a little breathless. "Now? Sheppard, you--"
"Yes, now. Sheppard out." He tapped his radio off and waited.
He heard Rodney before he saw him. "Radek is on call for jumper maintenance, Sheppard, as you very well know. And I have a date in less than two hours." He rounded the corner into sight, looking pissed. "So this had better be good."
Now that it came to it, John felt pretty lousy. Rodney didn't know that John's little flame of a crush had burst into a full-grown brushfire when John hadn't been paying attention. He didn't know that every time they watched a movie, or ate together in the mess, or stepped through the gate after a mission, John ached to touch him. Rodney just wanted to have dinner with his dream girl. There was no reason to even think it would go well, except that Sam had been here a while now, and had seen Rodney in action, saving lives and coming up with last minute fixes. John knew it was a lot easier to like Rodney after you'd seen that. And if Carter liked Rodney then they might have more dates, and that stupid smile Rodney had had plastered to his face for the last few days would become permanent.
Huh. John's conscience didn't feel bad enough to call the plan off after all. It was good to know where you stood ethically.
"Jumper Three is on the fritz." John shrugged apologetically.
"I repeat, Colonel." John winced a little. "Radek is on call. Now if you'll excuse me--"
"It's my favorite jumper, Rodney." John didn't try to stop the whine from creeping into his voice. It was time for the big guns--he gave Rodney his best puppy-dog eyes.
"Oh, for--" Rodney sighed. "Fine. You have one hour of my time."
He entered the jumper and slid under the console. "And you'll be helping." His voice was muffled.
The best plans were always the simplest. Get Rodney working on a jumper--which he would not be able to fix without the crystal John had hidden away--and Rodney, being Rodney, would forget about his date until it was too late. It would totally work. Easy as stealing pie from a baby. It wasn't until John found himself happily contemplating the best ways to console Rodney later, that he realized he'd gone completely insane.
He couldn't do this. Rodney deserved a friend, not some obsessive stalker creep laying in wait to ruin his chances. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't too late. Rodney still had plenty of time to make his date. John only hoped he wouldn't have to hear the play-by-play later.
He'd just swallowed past the pain and opened his mouth to send Rodney on his way, when Rodney pushed himself out from underneath the console and stood.
"Well," he said, stepping close into John's personal space. John's breath caught. "You've had your hour. And--" He suddenly plucked the crystal from John's chest pocket. "I don't think I'll be able to fix the problem without this."
Two minutes later, Jumper Three was running like a dream, and John was facing a very angry scientist.
"I don't get it," Rodney said. "Sabotaging the jumpers? I'd think you were a replicator if this didn't have John-Sheppard-Stupid-Plan written all over it."
"Rodney," John said, but didn't have anything else when Rodney glared at him, waiting.
"I know it's because of my date with Sam. You always do this. You shack up with every ascended chippy and hot alien babe in sight, and I'm not allowed to have anyone."
"You went out with Katie." John heard the squeak in his voice and winced.
"And she was very disturbed by the way you used to fondle your gun around her, let me tell you. I think that's why she broke up with me." Rodney paused. "That and the fact I called botany a 'sorry excuse to let hippies play in the mud.' But that's not the point. The point is." He was close again, punctuating his words with short sharp jabs of his index finger into John's chest. "The point is, you don't seem to want me to be happy. Just..." He seemed to wind down all at once. "Just tell me why that is."
He stood there, looking at John with such honest hurt, such a small, lost expression, that John broke. He moved forward a step and took Rodney in his arms, and God, Rodney would probably deck him in a minute and he'd let him, but he couldn't see that look on Rodney's face and stay still.
He felt Rodney's "mmph" of surprise under his lips, but this was the first and last time he was going to get to do this and he had to make it count. He kissed Rodney with four years of pent-up longing, and frustration, and hope. When Rodney opened his mouth to say something, John slid his tongue inside, and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.
It felt incredible; it was amazing; he felt free in a way he'd never let himself feel before, and it must have been almost a minute before he realized Rodney was kissing him back, that they were pressed together against the jumper wall. Rodney bit at his jaw, and John pushed his hands under Rodney's shirt, touching all the skin he could reach. He managed to think that stupid plans sometimes worked out better than they deserved to, before he couldn't think at all and just let himself feel.
Rodney didn't make his date that night, and they didn't even call, which John felt really bad about. It helped a little when Sam found them at a table in the mess the next morning. She didn't seem mad as Rodney stumbled through an excuse and apology; she just made big eyes and sighed a little about Rodney breaking her heart. She laughed when Rodney blanched, and ruffled his hair, sending Rodney into a coughing fit. Sam gave John a look, which meant--something, and fixed him with a knowing smile as she left. Huh. Well, at least she wouldn't be trying to date Rodney any more.
"Do you think she'll be all right?" Rodney had stopped choking and was looking earnestly at John. "I wouldn't want to damage her self-esteem."
"I think she'll be fine, buddy."
He still looked uncertain, so John slid his hand up Rodney's thigh under the table, gratified when Rodney's eyes went all fuzzy.
"Mmm." Rodney looked like he agreed. "You're probably right. She's a big girl."
End.
Author: Argosy
Wordcount: 1645 words.
Rating: PG
Notes: Thank you to Cate for another fabulous round of mcsmooch. So glad I got one in!
Summary: John didn't really believe the date was going to happen--Carter would come to her senses, or Rodney would chicken out, or--if worse came to worse--Atlantis itself would recognize it for the abomination it was and sink into the ocean.
Seven months into her posting as Atlantis expedition leader, Carter finally agreed to go on a date with Rodney.
He'd been asking her once every week before the Tuesday morning staff meeting--"to keep in practice," he'd told John. He never actually expected her to agree.
Yet here they were, all set for dinner Saturday night in the small banquet room they only used when the IOA or a visiting trade partner needed to be impressed. John didn't know if Carter had agreed so that she could let Rodney down easy once and for all, or if she was impressed with his growth as a human being since she'd known him on Earth, or if she was just plain bored. What he wouldn't give for a good Wraith attack right now.
In the end, it didn't matter why she'd agreed to go out with Rodney. What mattered was that John had never seen Rodney so excited by anything before--including the time they'd found a three-quarters-full ZPM on PX3-997. It was days before the big occasion, and Rodney had already shown up at his door three times--to ask if John knew where he could get a bottle of wine, and to see if John thought it was tacky to ask Katie Brown for flowers, and one time just to gloat.
John gritted his teeth, and got Rodney his wine, and didn't let him go to Katie for flowers, though he was supremely tempted. He didn't really believe the date was going to happen--Carter would come to her senses, or Rodney would chicken out, or--if worse came to worse--Atlantis itself would recognize it for the abomination it was and sink into the ocean.
Yet Saturday kept creeping inexorably forward, and Friday night John found himself in Rodney's quarters viewing a selection of possible date-night outfits. Rodney, thank God, was not trying to model the clothes, but had instead laid them out on the bed.
"Well?" he asked impatiently. John didn't miss the note of desperation in his voice.
Rodney really wanted this to go well. John sighed. Okay, he could be a pal. He didn't know why he needed him for this; if Rodney wasn't so earth-shatteringly oblivious, he would have suspected torture. It wasn't like there were a lot of choices. It came down to gray BDUs, black BDUs, or some godawful civilian outfit featuring pants with some kind of swear-to-Christ plaid pattern.
It was a close thing, but in the end John took the high road. "Black BDUs," he said. It left a bad taste in his mouth. Rodney smiled happily and clapped him on the shoulder.
John woke up early Saturday morning with the sudden and certain knowledge this date was really going to happen. No killer storm was on the horizon, the slacker Wraith were all tucked asleep in their hives, and Atlantis was safely afloat. It was up to him.
He put his plan into motion at precisely 1700, tapping his radio. "McKay," he said in his most no-nonsense tone. "Get your ass to the jumper bay."
"What?" Rodney answered a moment later, sounding a little breathless. "Now? Sheppard, you--"
"Yes, now. Sheppard out." He tapped his radio off and waited.
He heard Rodney before he saw him. "Radek is on call for jumper maintenance, Sheppard, as you very well know. And I have a date in less than two hours." He rounded the corner into sight, looking pissed. "So this had better be good."
Now that it came to it, John felt pretty lousy. Rodney didn't know that John's little flame of a crush had burst into a full-grown brushfire when John hadn't been paying attention. He didn't know that every time they watched a movie, or ate together in the mess, or stepped through the gate after a mission, John ached to touch him. Rodney just wanted to have dinner with his dream girl. There was no reason to even think it would go well, except that Sam had been here a while now, and had seen Rodney in action, saving lives and coming up with last minute fixes. John knew it was a lot easier to like Rodney after you'd seen that. And if Carter liked Rodney then they might have more dates, and that stupid smile Rodney had had plastered to his face for the last few days would become permanent.
Huh. John's conscience didn't feel bad enough to call the plan off after all. It was good to know where you stood ethically.
"Jumper Three is on the fritz." John shrugged apologetically.
"I repeat, Colonel." John winced a little. "Radek is on call. Now if you'll excuse me--"
"It's my favorite jumper, Rodney." John didn't try to stop the whine from creeping into his voice. It was time for the big guns--he gave Rodney his best puppy-dog eyes.
"Oh, for--" Rodney sighed. "Fine. You have one hour of my time."
He entered the jumper and slid under the console. "And you'll be helping." His voice was muffled.
The best plans were always the simplest. Get Rodney working on a jumper--which he would not be able to fix without the crystal John had hidden away--and Rodney, being Rodney, would forget about his date until it was too late. It would totally work. Easy as stealing pie from a baby. It wasn't until John found himself happily contemplating the best ways to console Rodney later, that he realized he'd gone completely insane.
He couldn't do this. Rodney deserved a friend, not some obsessive stalker creep laying in wait to ruin his chances. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't too late. Rodney still had plenty of time to make his date. John only hoped he wouldn't have to hear the play-by-play later.
He'd just swallowed past the pain and opened his mouth to send Rodney on his way, when Rodney pushed himself out from underneath the console and stood.
"Well," he said, stepping close into John's personal space. John's breath caught. "You've had your hour. And--" He suddenly plucked the crystal from John's chest pocket. "I don't think I'll be able to fix the problem without this."
Two minutes later, Jumper Three was running like a dream, and John was facing a very angry scientist.
"I don't get it," Rodney said. "Sabotaging the jumpers? I'd think you were a replicator if this didn't have John-Sheppard-Stupid-Plan written all over it."
"Rodney," John said, but didn't have anything else when Rodney glared at him, waiting.
"I know it's because of my date with Sam. You always do this. You shack up with every ascended chippy and hot alien babe in sight, and I'm not allowed to have anyone."
"You went out with Katie." John heard the squeak in his voice and winced.
"And she was very disturbed by the way you used to fondle your gun around her, let me tell you. I think that's why she broke up with me." Rodney paused. "That and the fact I called botany a 'sorry excuse to let hippies play in the mud.' But that's not the point. The point is." He was close again, punctuating his words with short sharp jabs of his index finger into John's chest. "The point is, you don't seem to want me to be happy. Just..." He seemed to wind down all at once. "Just tell me why that is."
He stood there, looking at John with such honest hurt, such a small, lost expression, that John broke. He moved forward a step and took Rodney in his arms, and God, Rodney would probably deck him in a minute and he'd let him, but he couldn't see that look on Rodney's face and stay still.
He felt Rodney's "mmph" of surprise under his lips, but this was the first and last time he was going to get to do this and he had to make it count. He kissed Rodney with four years of pent-up longing, and frustration, and hope. When Rodney opened his mouth to say something, John slid his tongue inside, and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.
It felt incredible; it was amazing; he felt free in a way he'd never let himself feel before, and it must have been almost a minute before he realized Rodney was kissing him back, that they were pressed together against the jumper wall. Rodney bit at his jaw, and John pushed his hands under Rodney's shirt, touching all the skin he could reach. He managed to think that stupid plans sometimes worked out better than they deserved to, before he couldn't think at all and just let himself feel.
Rodney didn't make his date that night, and they didn't even call, which John felt really bad about. It helped a little when Sam found them at a table in the mess the next morning. She didn't seem mad as Rodney stumbled through an excuse and apology; she just made big eyes and sighed a little about Rodney breaking her heart. She laughed when Rodney blanched, and ruffled his hair, sending Rodney into a coughing fit. Sam gave John a look, which meant--something, and fixed him with a knowing smile as she left. Huh. Well, at least she wouldn't be trying to date Rodney any more.
"Do you think she'll be all right?" Rodney had stopped choking and was looking earnestly at John. "I wouldn't want to damage her self-esteem."
"I think she'll be fine, buddy."
He still looked uncertain, so John slid his hand up Rodney's thigh under the table, gratified when Rodney's eyes went all fuzzy.
"Mmm." Rodney looked like he agreed. "You're probably right. She's a big girl."
End.