Fic: John and Rodney Save Christmas (McKay/Sheppard)
Title: John and Rodney Save Christmas
Author: chase_acow
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: PG-13
Recipient: eretria
Spoilers: Miller’s Crossing? Just the tiniest little bit.
Summary: Earth was supposed to be boring, college bowl games, mashed potatoes, and shopping mall normal. Earth was not supposed to be impossible and more than likely life threatening.
A/N: A Christmas fic for a Christmas baby! You gave such wonderful prompts, I wished I could have written them all in, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. Happy Holidays!
John and Rodney Save Christmas
The doctor who replaced Heightmeyer took one look at John’s folder and went tight around the mouth. Later, John found out that Dr. Parle went over both his and Carter’s head to recommend mandatory leave time for him from the IOA. John thought he was probably evil, but Woolsey gave him the stink-eye until he finally packed a bag and walked through the Stargate.
The SGC was pretty much like he remembered it, except that now it looked like Santa’s workshop had thrown up inside. Luckily for him, Mitchell had pulled him aside and warned him off Corridor 11. Apparently, Vala had booby-trapped it with mistletoe and was lying in wait for Jackson. Odds were up to five to one against Jackson, and John was pretty sure he didn’t want to stick around to see the outcome.
He had five ski resort brochures laid out in front of him on the table in the mess. John was about to go old school and decide where to overpay for a hotel room for the holidays by ennie-meannie-minie-moe when Rodney interrupted. He’d barely gotten through a stuttered invitation to join him at the Miller’s house before John was nodding and grabbing his bag.
That was why he had spent the week up to Christmas, having snow fights with Madison and Rodney, washing dishes for Jeannie’s kitchen rampage, and watching synchronized skating with Kaleb. It didn’t explain why he and Rodney were standing on Jeannie’s front lawn shivering and looking at the scene with doom written clearly over their heads.
"I don’t believe it."
John shifted, hearing the creak of snow moving under his unlaced and hastily pulled on boots. His thermal shirt chafed against his skin, and his sweats had seen better days, but after the small explosion outside his window, he didn’t stop to change. The air was still and if his breath hadn’t been rising over his head in a cloud, he would never have realized that it was so cold. It was a wonder that the entire neighborhood wasn’t boiling outside to see what the commotion was. The only noises were his own shallow breaths, and Rodney’s loud freak out.
"I don’t believe it."
The street that the Millers lived on was deserted; no one was out at three am on Christmas morning. It was quiet except for the faint hum of Christmas lights that shone brightly on every house but Jeannie’s. Around their house was the faint stink of ozone, and an overwhelming air of desperation. John rubbed his hands together and then briskly up his biceps, shifting again and chewing on his bottom lip.
"I don’t -"
"Shut the hell up, Rodney!" John snapped, flicking out his hand to slap the back of Rodney’ head. He was already tired and apparently insane; he didn’t need Rodney’s low threshold of stress management waking up. John just hoped that any moment he’d wake back up on his futon in the spare office and realize that this was all a bad dream.
Rodney turned to him, his eyes impossibly wide while darting from side to side, and his mouth hanging open. His hair stood up straight from his head and the buttons on his pajama shirt were buttoned up wrong so that one side hung down much further than the other. His fuzzy blue bathrobe dragged behind him in the snow leaving a trail all the way from the door to the side of the house. He had lines running up and down the side of his face from the pillowcase.
"We killed Santa Clause," Rodney whispered, his mouth opening and closing several more times, even though he didn’t manage to say anything else.
A headache was already building behind John’s eyes as he raised his hands to massage his temples. He really wished Rodney hadn’t said it aloud, but the proof was right before his eyes. Santa was stuck upside down in a snowdrift, his legs stiff and poking out straight towards the sky. What they could see of his pants were charred and quickly melting the snow. On top of the roof, nine reindeer were restlessly pawing at the snow while the sleigh rested haphazardly on top of the power lines.
"You!" Rodney yelled suddenly, whirling and slapping John on the back of his head. He went a little maniac in the eyes, the way he did when he won a bet with Zelenka or he thought they only had five seconds to live. "This is all your fault! You’re the one who insisted that we string those tacky little bulbs up everywhere!"
Rolling his eyes, John rubbed the spot on the back of his skull where Rodney had hit him. "Yeah, and who’s the one that decided he had to out do the Moore’s across the street and hooked up an naquida relay into the lighting system?" he sniped back, wishing he had his sidearm with him if only because the comforting weight of it against his thigh would make him feel better.
"Jeannie’s going to kill me," Rodney moaned, finally plucking up the courage to take the last few steps over to the drift and poke Santa in the thigh. "She told me that if I ruined the first Christmas we’d spent together in fifteen years that she’d torture me so much that the Wraith looked like kittens in comparison."
John thought back to the stressed and nearly possessed holiday cheer that Jeannie had shown all day. She finally fell asleep at the kitchen table after pasting her hair into a bow on the present she was wrapping. Kaleb had shrugged, picked her up in a fireman’s carry and called it a night. Hive ships had been less scary than Jeannie had been at the mall trying to find the perfect book for Madison's stocking.
Decision made, John sighed, and said, "Well, come on then." He moved over to the ladder that was still propped up against the house from when they initially stung up the lights. "I guess we’d better get a move on."
"What?" Rodney asked, backing quickly away from Santa’s still slightly smoking legs. He wrapped his robe tighter around his chest and tilted his head up to see the roof.
John looked down from where he was already half-way up the ladder and shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I haven’t found anything I can’t fly yet. I might as well give this a try."
There was a heartbeat’s pause before Rodney threw his arms straight over his head and yelled, "Oh come on! You are not serious!"
"As a Wraith attack," John forced himself to cheerfully reply, turning back to the ladder and slowly started counting to five.
At the count of four, John heard the telltale clanking of Rodney climbing up the ladder behind him and smiled. The ladder shook with the weight that Rodney threw around, but John made it to the top and turned around on the second story roof to steady the ladder until Rodney heaved himself over. His windmilling feet managed to kick over the ladder while he scrabbled for purchase.
John didn’t even bother to roll his eyes, and stood up, tucking his cold wet hands into his armpits while he surveyed the reindeer. The one in the lead had a nose glowing brightly red into the night, and John didn’t know whether to cackle with glee or throw up. Earth was supposed to be boring, college bowl games, mashed potatoes, and shopping mall normal. Earth was not supposed to be impossible and more than likely life threatening.
"I don’t believe it."
"McKay!" John shouted, forgetting for the moment that they were basically standing on top of Jeannie and Kaleb’s bedroom. He advanced a step and twisted his fist in Rodney’s robe, "I swear to God, I will shoot you, and I will not feel bad about it this time."
"Fine!" Rodney yelled back, stepping closer so that his face was just inches from John’s. "What’s your grand plan then, genius?"
A sudden shove in the middle of his back sent John crashing into Rodney’s arms. The closest reindeer stepped back into line, snuffling in what sounded suspiciously like laughter. Rodney’s arms tightened around him, and the rest of the reindeer started pawing eagerly at the ground and shaking their heads up and down.
Rodney was radiating heat, and before he could think better of it, John shifted the tiniest bit further into Rodney’s embrace. His thin thermal wasn’t enough to keep him from shivering, but his thumb tucked under Rodney’s shirt made a different kind of thrill race down his spine and pool in his belly. He only managed to keep as much control as it took not to turn his head and see Rodney’s reaction.
"All right," Rodney cleared his throat and carefully took a step back that took him out of John’s reach. "I guess if you’re going to try to kill us in the most freakish way you could on Earth, then we’d better get to it."
"Yeah," John said, hoping that the gloom would hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He forced a grin and pointed toward the sleigh, "Let’s get’er done."
Rodney groaned and rolled his eyes, "Madison is an evil, evil child for showing you that."
John started looking over the rig, from beginning to end and realized that the sleigh was all set to go. The reins dangled loosely over the front and the bench seat was clear and big enough for both of them. "Come on Rodney," he drawled, making sure to extend Rodney’s name as long as he could just to iritating. "I think that they’re funny. I’m going to get a copy of 'Blue Collar Comedy' to take back to Ronon."
"God help us all," Rodney muttered, just loud enough for John to be able to hear over the snorting of the reindeer. "You’re not really considering this are you? I mean, magic reindeer, time distortion, a magically bottomless bag? I mean, come on!"
"Space vampires, hello!"
"Okay, you’ve got a point," Rodney conceded, cautiously sidling up to the reindeer that had earlier shoved John and running his hand across the elaborately tooled harness, "but seriously, are we going to do this?"
Sighing, John ran his fingers over the aged wood of the sleigh, it didn’t have wings, but he still longed to climb in it and fly away. "Do you have a better idea?" he asked tiredly, suddenly all too aware that it was oh-dark-hundred in the morning. "What do you think Jeannie’s going to do to you when she finds out that you not only ruined her Christmas but the whole world’s?"
Rodney swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down on his neck, and nodded. He pulled his robe tight around him, and shook himself slightly as if he was either casting off his good sense or settling into his usual manic energy. "Fine," he said decisively, cutting through the air with a hand. "Fine, but I swear to god, if I get stuck in a chimney, I will murder you in your sleep."
"Fair deal, McKay," John agreed, grinning and stepping up into the sleigh. There was a red robe trimmed with fur on the seat, and he pulled it on gratefully, the heavy weight blocking out the chill. Something had fallen down to the floor, and he picked it up, gleefully once he realized what it was. "Look, Rodney! You can have the Santa hat!"
"Oh, be still my beating heart," Rodney growled and snatched the hat from John’s fingers and stepped up onto the sleigh.
The second that his foot was on the floorboard, the reindeer were off, cantering down the middle of the roof and leaping into the air once they got to the ledge. Only John’s quick reflexes to grab Rodney’s shoulder kept him from sprawling backward and off the sleigh. As it was, they ended up in a tangle of limbs across the bench while the sky blurred fast and hard over their heads.
"Can’t you control these monsters?" Rodney yelled right in John’s ear as they bumped together while the sleigh rocked from turbulence.
John was more than a little distracted by the feel of Rodney’s weight pressing against him and pushing his legs apart. Adrenaline was already spiking through his system, and that was the only reasonable excuse he could think of for why he didn’t automatically shove Rodney off him. The spicy scent of Rodney’s aftershave filled his nose, and the bottom of his stomach rushed again with warmth.
As suddenly as their wild ride began, it stopped with a sickening thump and jolt that sent them both rolling to the floor. John landed on Rodney hard enough to knock the breath out of both of them, and John couldn’t help curling slightly around Rodney’s bulk. Finally, John managed to get an elbow underneath him and hoisted himself up enough to look down at Rodney. He opened his mouth and just said the first thing that came into his mind, "Hey, come here often?"
"Oh, I can not believe you!" Rodney yelled and shoved up hard pushing John to his knees. "Where the hell are we?"
Realizing that he was more or less straddling Rodney’s thighs, John scrambled to his feet. He looked around to cover the sudden flare of arousal that pushed at the front of his sweats. His eyes widened as he realized that they weren’t in Canada anymore.
The snow was at least three feet deeper, and the house, more of a hut really, was so small that they had landed in the yard behind it. A mountain range sat squat in the distance and a wind howled across the land. The reindeer were throwing their antlers back, and glaring at them murderously over their shoulders in direct opposition to the bells attached to their heads that jingled merrily into the inky night.
"I’m not sure but I think it’s show time," John said reaching his hand down so he could pull Rodney up. In an instant, it was just like any other mission, and John was able to find headspace in his role as leader. "C’mon, let’s see what’s in the sack."
The back of the sleigh was completely full of a giant red velvet sack tied at the top with a thick golden rope. John leaned over the back of the front seat and quickly pried the bag open. Underneath his palm, something crackled like aged leaves.
"Let’s just get this over with," Rodney grumped shoving John to the side and ripping open the bag impatiently. "The sooner we get this finished, the sooner I can wake up in my bed with a hangover and find out that this was all just a bad dream brought upon by one too many Christmas carols beamed directly into my brain by that farce of a shopping mall Jeannie drug us to."
Something fell to the floor as Rodney had ruthlessly started rooting through the bag. John sucked in a breath and slid over the backrest stretching his arm so he could reach the crumpled piece of paper. His stomach muscles ached from balancing over the rigid wood but the paper was just a hair too far away for his fingertips to grasp.
"There’s nothing in here!" Rodney yelled angrily shoving the sack aside in disgust and sitting back with a scowl over his face.
When Rodney let his hands fall back down, he hit John flat on the back and scrunched him down just enough for him to reach the paper with his thumb and forefinger. He pulled up with a groan but triumphantly clutched the folded scroll in his fist.
Rodney suddenly saw what he had and jerked forward to snatch it from John’s grasp, "What’s that?"
John was still wheezing too hard to answer, so Rodney pulled open the corners and stuck his tongue out of his mouth studying the paper. Rodney yelped suddenly and grabbed John’s bicep in a tight grip, shaking him and fairly sparking with excitement.
"Do you realize what this is?" he yelled again, his voice echoing across the desolate landscape, giving John visions of the local minute men running out from their houses with guns a blazing. "It’s the list!"
"The list?" John repeated, wondering if they stepped off the sleigh if the reindeer would just cut and run leaving them stranded in the middle god-forsaken nowhere.
"The list!" Rodney yelled, light shining in his eyes as he waved the parchment under John's nose. "The nice and naughty list! In my first bid for world domination, my success hinged on getting control of this list!"
Finally, John got his breath back only to gape at Rodney, "How old were you?"
"Ten," Rodney said absentmindedly already running his fingers reverently down the surface of the paper. "But then Jeannie told me that Santa Clause didn’t exist. I cried for a week straight and wouldn’t get out of bed Christmas morning."
"How old was Jeannie?"
"Five."
John took another moment to contemplate the horror of what growing up in the McKay household must have been like. His own family could hold their own in the abomination of the nuclear family category, but it hadn’t been anything like that. Quickly he snatched the paper away from McKay and saw that there were two names at the top glowing softly in the wane moonlight.
"Alexis and Ann," he read over Rodney’s squawking and furrowed his brow. There were small happy faces next to each of their names, and suddenly he knew that the bag wouldn’t be empty this time when he opened it.
One little porcelain doll stared up at him from where it’s nestled next to a bag of multicolored blocks. Nice presents, and when John reached in, they felt like a low current of voltage ran through them, zinging his hand like pins and needles. He ran a thumb across the doll’s cheek and looked up to find Rodney glancing at him speculatively.
"All right, let’s go," John said to cover his small hiccup, and was about to step out of the sleigh when one of the reindeer let out a honk that scared the crap out of him. The toys went sailing, but before they could hit snow and bury themselves, they flew through the air and down the chimney of the house.
Rodney still has an eyebrow cocked a minute later before he turned and eyed the reindeer warily. "Well," he said shortly with just the barest hint of amusement coloring his words, "that’s convenient."
A second later, they were off again, but this time both of them managed to get their butts in the seats and actually enjoy the thrill off shooting straight up from the earth. John laughed, and Rodney clutched at his arm for several heartbeats before it was obvious that whatever was keeping the sleigh in the air was also keeping it stable and blocking most of the wind. The reindeer cantered in time with each other, and Rudolph’s nose lit the way from cloud to cloud.
They got into an easy rhythm, John read the names off the list and Rodney pulled out whatever the sack offered up and dropped it over the side watching as the presents spiraled their way down to chimney after chimney. John started scoring Rodney based on distance and spiral until Rodney switched him places and they had a competition going.
The loud-mouthed reindeer - Comet, which John finally figured out, had been the same one who shoved him earlier, rolled his eyes at them, and John had to fight the urge to stick his tongue out back. It was turning out to be one of the best nights of his life.
"Rodney, don’t do that!" John yelled, as he caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Rodney on his knees trying to take off a panel from the front of the sleigh.
Glaring up, Rodney immediately started gesturing, while words spewed out of his mouth, "This technology isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before! If we could reverse engineer this up, I could invent the next line of manned Earth fighterships!"
John sighed and reached down to haul Rodney up by the collar of his pajamas. "Let me rephrase," he said, in a singsong voice tilting his head and looking up at Rodney through the corner of his eye. "Don’t take apart the nice magical sleigh, while we’re flying above the cloud line over the middle of the fucking ocean!"
Rodney glanced over the edge of the sleigh, caught sight of the moon reflecting off the waves, very far below them, and gulped. He slid toward the middle of the bench seat so that their thighs were pressed together. Nervously, he gripped John’s borrowed coat, and said, "I can do that."
Several hours later they were stopped again, with a list that had over two dozen kids’ names on it. The reindeer settled lightly of the rooftop, while their breath fogged up like steam from their noses. The roof was flat and covered with about a foot of new snow. Flakes were drifting slowly down, sticking in both the reindeer’s pelts and Rodney’s housecoat.
The night was still again, and so quiet that the stars above his head were sharp to both John’s eyes and his ears. With every toy he helped pass out something inside his chest was tearing to get out. For the first time in far too long, he wanted something for himself, a little something that would make up for everything he sacrificed for Atlantis and his people.
"Hey, McKay," John said softly and reached up his hand to scratch the back of his head. He looked up finding the big dipper pointing in sky, "I just wanted to say, you know, thanks for inviting me home for Christmas. I really - I mean, it was nice of you. To do that."
Rodney looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at John with an expression that either meant there was a Wraith or Carter hiding behind John. He resisted the urge to check and ducked his head, opening his mouth to take it back and tell Rodney that he actually had wanted to go check out the snow bunnies in Colorado.
"ItwasJeannie’sidea," Rodney exploded quickly, his cheeks burning red in the dim light. His shoulders hunched in and he squinted his eyes as if he needed the extra protection from the weather. For that moment, Rodney was as motionless as the background, and as far away as the moon.
"Oh," John breathed the word, sucking in one breath after another and turning back to the sleigh. "We’d better get on with this. Who’s next on the list?"
Stops eventually started blurring together and the moon slowly moved across the sky even though John never felt any more fatigued than what he’d started out. The list always had new names, the sack always had new presents, and Rodney was always just out of his reach.
He guessed it was somewhere in Scandinavia that Comet struck again and ate Rodney’s robe when they were taking a quick break. Comet had a gleam in his eye, and John swore that as he took him arm out of the sleeve of his borrowed coat so Rodney could crowd next to him and share that the rest of the reindeer were laughing at him again.
The next time they stopped, John got up to stretch his legs and idly wondered out loud whether reindeer jerky was better than beef jerky. The reindeer kept their minds on the job after that, and John was left to his own devices as he tortured himself in Rodney’s touch.
Rodney didn’t even realize when they touched down in the front yard of the same place they started out from, just turned around and stuck his head in the sack calling back in a muffled voice, "What’s the brat’s name this time?"
"Madison Miller," John smirked as Rodney jerked in surprise and nearly slid the wrong way over the seat. "Last stop of the night, McKay, better make it a good one."
John got out of the sleigh, leaving the robe on the seat and walked up the line of reindeer, patting each one on the shoulder until he got to Comet. He ran his hand down Comet’s neck and bent low over the reindeer and said quietly, "Thanks for trying buddy, but sometimes it just isn’t meant to be."
Comet made a low sound, swung his head around to nudge John in the chest, and looked up at him with intelligent and sad eyes. John rubbed one of his ears gently and then moved on up the line until he got to Rudolph. He was going to miss them, even if they were smelly and meddling.
"You done yet?" Rodney yelled from the sleigh and John turned just in time to see a dollhouse sail up to the chimney. "That's it; I guess we can call it a night now."
"Yeah," John agreed, glancing back up at a sky that was once as familiar as the back of his hand. It seemed smaller now somehow. He could see the barest hints in the eastern horizon that heralded the coming of dawn. "Go on guys, you all can head back home now."
Comet shot him a disgusted glare, and pawed at the snow, fidgeting in the harness and utterly ignoring John's shooing motions. Rudolf stood stock-still and no amount of pushing would get him to move even one hoof. John turned back to tell Rodney to help him, and scowled when he saw that Rodney had already went inside.
John was almost to the threshold when he heard Rodney squawk and ran the rest of the way. He slid through the hallway and crashed into Rodney where he stood in the middle of the entryway of the living room. Rodney shrugged him off, and stuck his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes before turning back to the couch.
"You!" Rodney stage whispered loud enough to be most peoples’ normal volume of speech. "So we’ve been all over Earth, and you’ve been here raiding my fridge and watching my tivo?"
John finally turned away from Rodney and realized what had ruffled Rodney's feathers. Santa Clause, who had looked more like a smoked turkey the last time they saw him was sitting in the living room. Wrappers and empty tupperware littered the path between couch and kitchen, and the low lights of the television flashed across the Saint's face.
Santa just raised an eyebrow and idly tugged at the whiskers on his chin. "Serves you right for bobby trapping your rooftop," he said and his voice sounded like peels of bells echoing through a cathedral. His eyes glinted and the crinkles on the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled, "How did Comet treat you?"
"He ate my bathrobe!"
"Ah, yes, he does get a bit peckish by the time we usually hit Finland," Santa said, standing and deftly plucked his hat from Rodney’s head to settle it on his own. "I’d better be off; Mrs. Clause will be wondering where I’ve been all this time."
Rodney flapped open his mouth a couple of times before his brain caught up with his mouth, "Oh come on! That’s it? No ‘thank you’, no ‘here have some life-saving technology’, not even an apology for that rabies-ridden animal devouring my clothing!"
Quickly, John stepped between Rodney and Santa, making sure to step on Rodney’s foot as he shifted. He glared over his shoulder before he turned back around to face the living legend in their living room. "Sorry about that Santa," he said, flashing his most charming grin. "We didn’t have time for a coffee stop, and Rodney gets a little psychotic when there’s too much blood in his caffeine system."
Rodney grunted behind him and started grumbling under his breath.
The Saint shared a conspiring smile with John and winked at him under low bushy eyebrows. "No, he’s quite right," Santa said reaching up to touch his finger to his nose. "You boys did good work tonight; the least I could do is to grant a wish or two."
Suddenly, John had a really bad feeling.
"Yes," Santa continued, his face transforming from kindly old man to something too beautiful to be human, a bright light that filled the room with a soft glow of warmth. "I think I know just the thing."
The light expanded to several bright tendrils, towering up to the ceiling. It flared once, making John duck back toward Rodney and throw an arm up to cover both their eyes for a heartbeat, and then it was gone. John blinked his eyes open, relieved to see that they were now alone in the living room. He turned back to Rodney and matched him wide-eyed glance for glance.
"You don’t think?" Rodney started, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead.
"No," John said deftly, immediately beginning the process of repressing the entire night. By morning, he’d be able to deny and deflect anything Rodney or anyone else threw at him no matter what kind of ingenious torture they came up with. He was not about to let Jackson catch wind of the theory that Santa was an Ascended being. No way.
They'd never escape the SGC again.
Rodney nodded, and shivered a little, probably also imagining the meeting and psychiatric evaluations they’d have to go through if they ever let wind of this little escapade out. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the staircase and said, "Yeah, I guess I’ll just go turn in."
"Yeah, cool," John answered absentmindedly, and decided that he’d let himself have just a little longer with the weirdest night of his life. He waited for Rodney to leave so he could go to the kitchen and make some coffee, but Rodney didn’t move. "You kinda need to get some forward mobility going McKay, if you’re going to go to bed."
"I’m trying," Rodney said, panic creeping into his voice as he started to jerk his torso around and windmill his arms in circles around his body. "I’m trying to go, but my feet won’t move."
Immediately, John tried to take a step and felt vertigo sweep through him as his feet didn’t move. He was sure he was going to land on his nose before Rodney caught him. "Jesus," he said, getting his balance back. "What the hell is going on? Oh shit."
John craned his neck up, and just like he’d feared, a sprig of mistletoe hung in the doorway above their heads. Santa was one evil bastard. He wouldn't doubt that Comet was in on it too.
"Is that a-?"
"Yes," John growled cutting into Rodney’s question and closing his eyes against the roiling in his gut. He pinched the top of his nose and sighed. "Let’s just get this over with."
"'Get this'? You don’t mean -"
Opening his eyes, John saw Rodney’s pinched and worried face just as he knew he would. "I mean, pucker up and think of Atlantis," he said harshly, stomping down on the part of himself that was thankful over the chance to finally touch Rodney with purpose.
"But, I don’t, we don’t," Rodney babbled, his hands waving in front of his face and gesturing back and forth between them. "Colonel!"
Maybe it was the return to his rank after hearing the familiarity of his own name come from Rodney’s mouth, but suddenly John was angry. Incredibly angry, at himself, at Santa, and at a nation of fucked up politics. "Just close your fucking eyes and pretend I’m Carter," he said harsher than he should have by the flinch in Rodney’s eyes.
"But she’s shorter than I - umfph."
John tipped Rodney’s face up to meet his. Both their lips were dry, and the friction rubbing between them made him ache and want more. He knew his hands were too tight on Rodney’s face, and he gentled them with effort, running his thumb over Rodney’s eyebrow and down his cheek. Their noses mashed against each other and their warm breath mingled in the small space between them.
Rodney stood motionless in front of him, his hands fisted and pushing just slightly at John's hips. He was almost vibrating under John's hands, and hummed in the back of his throat. John tilted his head just a fraction to the side and rested their foreheads together, letting his eyes fall shut as he reveled in sensation.
A tingle ran down his body, starting from the crown of his head and traveling to the soles of his feet. An overwhelming feeling of being stuck in some sort of cosmic episode of Punk’d settled on John’s shoulders and he wrenched his head back. Gratefully finding that he could move his feet again, John brushed past Rodney and headed toward the stairs. He could pack up his single bag, make Kaleb’s office look like he’d never even been there, and be gone by the time the sun finally peeked in.
He’d only reached the bottom step when he heard Rodney softly call out his name. John stuttered to a stop and felt his shoulders drop while he reluctantly turned around. Rodney hadn't moved yet, and was standing with his hand held up to his bottom lip.
"John," Rodney said again, a little more forcefully and crossed half the distance of the living room. The lights from the Christmas tree blinked over his skin, bathing him multicolored flashes and canyons of shadow. "Jeannie only had the idea to invite you for Christmas after I reminder her about how well you got along with Madison, and mentioned that I didn’t think that you’d go anywhere else."
"What?" he asked, lifting his eyes just a fraction further so that he could meet Rodney’s gaze. He held himself so still that the muscles in his back and shoulders ached. "Why?"
Rodney moved forward another few feet, cautiously lifting his hand and placing it beside John's on the banister. He glanced up from under his eyelashes, but then slanted his eyes away. "Because I," he started, and then stopped and took a breath. He shifted and curled his fingers to nudge at John's hands. He looked John full in the eye and tried again, "Because you . . ."
Thinking carefully, John slowly flipped his hand over, and tried to convince his gut not to tie itself in knots. Seconds later Rodney hesitantly feathered his hand over John's, they slid together warm skin on warm skin until they were resting palm to palm. It was such a small touch; something that even strangers did.
John looked up with a small smile playing on the edges of his mouth, and he felt Rodney relax just the barest of a fraction. He curled his fingers tighter, and rubbed his thumb up the back of Rodney's hand.
"Presents!"
The high-pitched squeal echoed down the stairs just a second before John was bowled over by a flash of pink footie pajamas. Rodney took one look at him sprawled upside down over the bottom step and broke out into hoots of laughter while Madison exclaimed over all the presents piled under the tree. All John could do was lay on the heavy carpeting trying to catch his breath.
Jeannie followed her daughter down the stairs, sat each foot under the other with a heavy thump, and stepped zombie like over John's body. She hadn't even opened her eyes once, but she managed to make it to the kitchen without knocking anything over. Kaleb followed a second later, whistling tunelessly and skipping over John's still outstretched legs.
Rodney was still bent over trying to catch him breath when the hollering began.
"Meredith Rodney McKay! What did you do to my kitchen, and why does the front yard look like someone did donuts in it with a four-wheeler!" Jeannie yelled, far more awake than she'd been just a moment ago.
Rodney sobered up instantly, turning to John with a pleading look, "You've got to save me."
"I think you're on your own for this one buddy," John replied, standing up and putting a little more of a limp into his knee than it strictly needed. He wasn't about to be the first one into the kitchen, not even for Rodney.
"It's all right guys," Kaleb said, holding up a small velvet covered box and wiggling at them. It was the kind that was always on the television commercials filled with outrageously expensive diamonds. "I got this one."
John smirked and wandered over to sit on the couch and watch Madison tear through her stocking stuffers. She had found the dollhouse, and sat right beside it so she could sneak quick touches in between other presents. There was already a small mound of wrapping paper at her feet and the cat crept closer and closer waiting to see if it would move.
A cell phone went off, and John sighed in relief as Rodney moved away to answer it. He nearly melted boneless into the couch, his body tired enough that if he managed to find five minutes of peace, he'd be out for the rest of the day catching up on missed sleep. The cat lost interest in the paper and jumped up on his lap, turning once before settling into a little vibrating ball of warmth.
"Hey," Rodney said, sliding into the spot on the couch right next to John. They were close enough that if either of them shifted at all, they'd be touching. "That was the SGC, I guess Midway's down and we're going to be here for another week or so."
"Yeah?" John asked, carefully keeping his eyes and hands on the cat in front of him, and not on Rodney's face. He wasn't going to let himself build up any hope that what had happened would change anything between them. They were friends; that was all.
The couch shifted as Madison climbed up on Rodney's lap with a book about horses and jostled them into each other's space. With a barely there motion, Rodney moved the two fingers of his right hand onto John's thigh, and softly moved them back and forth. He kept his eyes on what Madison was showing him, but there was a blush creeping up his cheek.
"Yeah," Rodney repeated once Madison had gone back to reading by herself. He cocked his head, and twisted his mouth into a hopeful smile, "I thought maybe we could go skiing or something."
John petted the cat and rearranged her on his lap so that his knee was poking Rodney's thigh, and grinned, "Sounds like a plan."
Author: chase_acow
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: PG-13
Recipient: eretria
Spoilers: Miller’s Crossing? Just the tiniest little bit.
Summary: Earth was supposed to be boring, college bowl games, mashed potatoes, and shopping mall normal. Earth was not supposed to be impossible and more than likely life threatening.
A/N: A Christmas fic for a Christmas baby! You gave such wonderful prompts, I wished I could have written them all in, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. Happy Holidays!
John and Rodney Save Christmas
The doctor who replaced Heightmeyer took one look at John’s folder and went tight around the mouth. Later, John found out that Dr. Parle went over both his and Carter’s head to recommend mandatory leave time for him from the IOA. John thought he was probably evil, but Woolsey gave him the stink-eye until he finally packed a bag and walked through the Stargate.
The SGC was pretty much like he remembered it, except that now it looked like Santa’s workshop had thrown up inside. Luckily for him, Mitchell had pulled him aside and warned him off Corridor 11. Apparently, Vala had booby-trapped it with mistletoe and was lying in wait for Jackson. Odds were up to five to one against Jackson, and John was pretty sure he didn’t want to stick around to see the outcome.
He had five ski resort brochures laid out in front of him on the table in the mess. John was about to go old school and decide where to overpay for a hotel room for the holidays by ennie-meannie-minie-moe when Rodney interrupted. He’d barely gotten through a stuttered invitation to join him at the Miller’s house before John was nodding and grabbing his bag.
That was why he had spent the week up to Christmas, having snow fights with Madison and Rodney, washing dishes for Jeannie’s kitchen rampage, and watching synchronized skating with Kaleb. It didn’t explain why he and Rodney were standing on Jeannie’s front lawn shivering and looking at the scene with doom written clearly over their heads.
"I don’t believe it."
John shifted, hearing the creak of snow moving under his unlaced and hastily pulled on boots. His thermal shirt chafed against his skin, and his sweats had seen better days, but after the small explosion outside his window, he didn’t stop to change. The air was still and if his breath hadn’t been rising over his head in a cloud, he would never have realized that it was so cold. It was a wonder that the entire neighborhood wasn’t boiling outside to see what the commotion was. The only noises were his own shallow breaths, and Rodney’s loud freak out.
"I don’t believe it."
The street that the Millers lived on was deserted; no one was out at three am on Christmas morning. It was quiet except for the faint hum of Christmas lights that shone brightly on every house but Jeannie’s. Around their house was the faint stink of ozone, and an overwhelming air of desperation. John rubbed his hands together and then briskly up his biceps, shifting again and chewing on his bottom lip.
"I don’t -"
"Shut the hell up, Rodney!" John snapped, flicking out his hand to slap the back of Rodney’ head. He was already tired and apparently insane; he didn’t need Rodney’s low threshold of stress management waking up. John just hoped that any moment he’d wake back up on his futon in the spare office and realize that this was all a bad dream.
Rodney turned to him, his eyes impossibly wide while darting from side to side, and his mouth hanging open. His hair stood up straight from his head and the buttons on his pajama shirt were buttoned up wrong so that one side hung down much further than the other. His fuzzy blue bathrobe dragged behind him in the snow leaving a trail all the way from the door to the side of the house. He had lines running up and down the side of his face from the pillowcase.
"We killed Santa Clause," Rodney whispered, his mouth opening and closing several more times, even though he didn’t manage to say anything else.
A headache was already building behind John’s eyes as he raised his hands to massage his temples. He really wished Rodney hadn’t said it aloud, but the proof was right before his eyes. Santa was stuck upside down in a snowdrift, his legs stiff and poking out straight towards the sky. What they could see of his pants were charred and quickly melting the snow. On top of the roof, nine reindeer were restlessly pawing at the snow while the sleigh rested haphazardly on top of the power lines.
"You!" Rodney yelled suddenly, whirling and slapping John on the back of his head. He went a little maniac in the eyes, the way he did when he won a bet with Zelenka or he thought they only had five seconds to live. "This is all your fault! You’re the one who insisted that we string those tacky little bulbs up everywhere!"
Rolling his eyes, John rubbed the spot on the back of his skull where Rodney had hit him. "Yeah, and who’s the one that decided he had to out do the Moore’s across the street and hooked up an naquida relay into the lighting system?" he sniped back, wishing he had his sidearm with him if only because the comforting weight of it against his thigh would make him feel better.
"Jeannie’s going to kill me," Rodney moaned, finally plucking up the courage to take the last few steps over to the drift and poke Santa in the thigh. "She told me that if I ruined the first Christmas we’d spent together in fifteen years that she’d torture me so much that the Wraith looked like kittens in comparison."
John thought back to the stressed and nearly possessed holiday cheer that Jeannie had shown all day. She finally fell asleep at the kitchen table after pasting her hair into a bow on the present she was wrapping. Kaleb had shrugged, picked her up in a fireman’s carry and called it a night. Hive ships had been less scary than Jeannie had been at the mall trying to find the perfect book for Madison's stocking.
Decision made, John sighed, and said, "Well, come on then." He moved over to the ladder that was still propped up against the house from when they initially stung up the lights. "I guess we’d better get a move on."
"What?" Rodney asked, backing quickly away from Santa’s still slightly smoking legs. He wrapped his robe tighter around his chest and tilted his head up to see the roof.
John looked down from where he was already half-way up the ladder and shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I haven’t found anything I can’t fly yet. I might as well give this a try."
There was a heartbeat’s pause before Rodney threw his arms straight over his head and yelled, "Oh come on! You are not serious!"
"As a Wraith attack," John forced himself to cheerfully reply, turning back to the ladder and slowly started counting to five.
At the count of four, John heard the telltale clanking of Rodney climbing up the ladder behind him and smiled. The ladder shook with the weight that Rodney threw around, but John made it to the top and turned around on the second story roof to steady the ladder until Rodney heaved himself over. His windmilling feet managed to kick over the ladder while he scrabbled for purchase.
John didn’t even bother to roll his eyes, and stood up, tucking his cold wet hands into his armpits while he surveyed the reindeer. The one in the lead had a nose glowing brightly red into the night, and John didn’t know whether to cackle with glee or throw up. Earth was supposed to be boring, college bowl games, mashed potatoes, and shopping mall normal. Earth was not supposed to be impossible and more than likely life threatening.
"I don’t believe it."
"McKay!" John shouted, forgetting for the moment that they were basically standing on top of Jeannie and Kaleb’s bedroom. He advanced a step and twisted his fist in Rodney’s robe, "I swear to God, I will shoot you, and I will not feel bad about it this time."
"Fine!" Rodney yelled back, stepping closer so that his face was just inches from John’s. "What’s your grand plan then, genius?"
A sudden shove in the middle of his back sent John crashing into Rodney’s arms. The closest reindeer stepped back into line, snuffling in what sounded suspiciously like laughter. Rodney’s arms tightened around him, and the rest of the reindeer started pawing eagerly at the ground and shaking their heads up and down.
Rodney was radiating heat, and before he could think better of it, John shifted the tiniest bit further into Rodney’s embrace. His thin thermal wasn’t enough to keep him from shivering, but his thumb tucked under Rodney’s shirt made a different kind of thrill race down his spine and pool in his belly. He only managed to keep as much control as it took not to turn his head and see Rodney’s reaction.
"All right," Rodney cleared his throat and carefully took a step back that took him out of John’s reach. "I guess if you’re going to try to kill us in the most freakish way you could on Earth, then we’d better get to it."
"Yeah," John said, hoping that the gloom would hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He forced a grin and pointed toward the sleigh, "Let’s get’er done."
Rodney groaned and rolled his eyes, "Madison is an evil, evil child for showing you that."
John started looking over the rig, from beginning to end and realized that the sleigh was all set to go. The reins dangled loosely over the front and the bench seat was clear and big enough for both of them. "Come on Rodney," he drawled, making sure to extend Rodney’s name as long as he could just to iritating. "I think that they’re funny. I’m going to get a copy of 'Blue Collar Comedy' to take back to Ronon."
"God help us all," Rodney muttered, just loud enough for John to be able to hear over the snorting of the reindeer. "You’re not really considering this are you? I mean, magic reindeer, time distortion, a magically bottomless bag? I mean, come on!"
"Space vampires, hello!"
"Okay, you’ve got a point," Rodney conceded, cautiously sidling up to the reindeer that had earlier shoved John and running his hand across the elaborately tooled harness, "but seriously, are we going to do this?"
Sighing, John ran his fingers over the aged wood of the sleigh, it didn’t have wings, but he still longed to climb in it and fly away. "Do you have a better idea?" he asked tiredly, suddenly all too aware that it was oh-dark-hundred in the morning. "What do you think Jeannie’s going to do to you when she finds out that you not only ruined her Christmas but the whole world’s?"
Rodney swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down on his neck, and nodded. He pulled his robe tight around him, and shook himself slightly as if he was either casting off his good sense or settling into his usual manic energy. "Fine," he said decisively, cutting through the air with a hand. "Fine, but I swear to god, if I get stuck in a chimney, I will murder you in your sleep."
"Fair deal, McKay," John agreed, grinning and stepping up into the sleigh. There was a red robe trimmed with fur on the seat, and he pulled it on gratefully, the heavy weight blocking out the chill. Something had fallen down to the floor, and he picked it up, gleefully once he realized what it was. "Look, Rodney! You can have the Santa hat!"
"Oh, be still my beating heart," Rodney growled and snatched the hat from John’s fingers and stepped up onto the sleigh.
The second that his foot was on the floorboard, the reindeer were off, cantering down the middle of the roof and leaping into the air once they got to the ledge. Only John’s quick reflexes to grab Rodney’s shoulder kept him from sprawling backward and off the sleigh. As it was, they ended up in a tangle of limbs across the bench while the sky blurred fast and hard over their heads.
"Can’t you control these monsters?" Rodney yelled right in John’s ear as they bumped together while the sleigh rocked from turbulence.
John was more than a little distracted by the feel of Rodney’s weight pressing against him and pushing his legs apart. Adrenaline was already spiking through his system, and that was the only reasonable excuse he could think of for why he didn’t automatically shove Rodney off him. The spicy scent of Rodney’s aftershave filled his nose, and the bottom of his stomach rushed again with warmth.
As suddenly as their wild ride began, it stopped with a sickening thump and jolt that sent them both rolling to the floor. John landed on Rodney hard enough to knock the breath out of both of them, and John couldn’t help curling slightly around Rodney’s bulk. Finally, John managed to get an elbow underneath him and hoisted himself up enough to look down at Rodney. He opened his mouth and just said the first thing that came into his mind, "Hey, come here often?"
"Oh, I can not believe you!" Rodney yelled and shoved up hard pushing John to his knees. "Where the hell are we?"
Realizing that he was more or less straddling Rodney’s thighs, John scrambled to his feet. He looked around to cover the sudden flare of arousal that pushed at the front of his sweats. His eyes widened as he realized that they weren’t in Canada anymore.
The snow was at least three feet deeper, and the house, more of a hut really, was so small that they had landed in the yard behind it. A mountain range sat squat in the distance and a wind howled across the land. The reindeer were throwing their antlers back, and glaring at them murderously over their shoulders in direct opposition to the bells attached to their heads that jingled merrily into the inky night.
"I’m not sure but I think it’s show time," John said reaching his hand down so he could pull Rodney up. In an instant, it was just like any other mission, and John was able to find headspace in his role as leader. "C’mon, let’s see what’s in the sack."
The back of the sleigh was completely full of a giant red velvet sack tied at the top with a thick golden rope. John leaned over the back of the front seat and quickly pried the bag open. Underneath his palm, something crackled like aged leaves.
"Let’s just get this over with," Rodney grumped shoving John to the side and ripping open the bag impatiently. "The sooner we get this finished, the sooner I can wake up in my bed with a hangover and find out that this was all just a bad dream brought upon by one too many Christmas carols beamed directly into my brain by that farce of a shopping mall Jeannie drug us to."
Something fell to the floor as Rodney had ruthlessly started rooting through the bag. John sucked in a breath and slid over the backrest stretching his arm so he could reach the crumpled piece of paper. His stomach muscles ached from balancing over the rigid wood but the paper was just a hair too far away for his fingertips to grasp.
"There’s nothing in here!" Rodney yelled angrily shoving the sack aside in disgust and sitting back with a scowl over his face.
When Rodney let his hands fall back down, he hit John flat on the back and scrunched him down just enough for him to reach the paper with his thumb and forefinger. He pulled up with a groan but triumphantly clutched the folded scroll in his fist.
Rodney suddenly saw what he had and jerked forward to snatch it from John’s grasp, "What’s that?"
John was still wheezing too hard to answer, so Rodney pulled open the corners and stuck his tongue out of his mouth studying the paper. Rodney yelped suddenly and grabbed John’s bicep in a tight grip, shaking him and fairly sparking with excitement.
"Do you realize what this is?" he yelled again, his voice echoing across the desolate landscape, giving John visions of the local minute men running out from their houses with guns a blazing. "It’s the list!"
"The list?" John repeated, wondering if they stepped off the sleigh if the reindeer would just cut and run leaving them stranded in the middle god-forsaken nowhere.
"The list!" Rodney yelled, light shining in his eyes as he waved the parchment under John's nose. "The nice and naughty list! In my first bid for world domination, my success hinged on getting control of this list!"
Finally, John got his breath back only to gape at Rodney, "How old were you?"
"Ten," Rodney said absentmindedly already running his fingers reverently down the surface of the paper. "But then Jeannie told me that Santa Clause didn’t exist. I cried for a week straight and wouldn’t get out of bed Christmas morning."
"How old was Jeannie?"
"Five."
John took another moment to contemplate the horror of what growing up in the McKay household must have been like. His own family could hold their own in the abomination of the nuclear family category, but it hadn’t been anything like that. Quickly he snatched the paper away from McKay and saw that there were two names at the top glowing softly in the wane moonlight.
"Alexis and Ann," he read over Rodney’s squawking and furrowed his brow. There were small happy faces next to each of their names, and suddenly he knew that the bag wouldn’t be empty this time when he opened it.
One little porcelain doll stared up at him from where it’s nestled next to a bag of multicolored blocks. Nice presents, and when John reached in, they felt like a low current of voltage ran through them, zinging his hand like pins and needles. He ran a thumb across the doll’s cheek and looked up to find Rodney glancing at him speculatively.
"All right, let’s go," John said to cover his small hiccup, and was about to step out of the sleigh when one of the reindeer let out a honk that scared the crap out of him. The toys went sailing, but before they could hit snow and bury themselves, they flew through the air and down the chimney of the house.
Rodney still has an eyebrow cocked a minute later before he turned and eyed the reindeer warily. "Well," he said shortly with just the barest hint of amusement coloring his words, "that’s convenient."
A second later, they were off again, but this time both of them managed to get their butts in the seats and actually enjoy the thrill off shooting straight up from the earth. John laughed, and Rodney clutched at his arm for several heartbeats before it was obvious that whatever was keeping the sleigh in the air was also keeping it stable and blocking most of the wind. The reindeer cantered in time with each other, and Rudolph’s nose lit the way from cloud to cloud.
They got into an easy rhythm, John read the names off the list and Rodney pulled out whatever the sack offered up and dropped it over the side watching as the presents spiraled their way down to chimney after chimney. John started scoring Rodney based on distance and spiral until Rodney switched him places and they had a competition going.
The loud-mouthed reindeer - Comet, which John finally figured out, had been the same one who shoved him earlier, rolled his eyes at them, and John had to fight the urge to stick his tongue out back. It was turning out to be one of the best nights of his life.
"Rodney, don’t do that!" John yelled, as he caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Rodney on his knees trying to take off a panel from the front of the sleigh.
Glaring up, Rodney immediately started gesturing, while words spewed out of his mouth, "This technology isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before! If we could reverse engineer this up, I could invent the next line of manned Earth fighterships!"
John sighed and reached down to haul Rodney up by the collar of his pajamas. "Let me rephrase," he said, in a singsong voice tilting his head and looking up at Rodney through the corner of his eye. "Don’t take apart the nice magical sleigh, while we’re flying above the cloud line over the middle of the fucking ocean!"
Rodney glanced over the edge of the sleigh, caught sight of the moon reflecting off the waves, very far below them, and gulped. He slid toward the middle of the bench seat so that their thighs were pressed together. Nervously, he gripped John’s borrowed coat, and said, "I can do that."
Several hours later they were stopped again, with a list that had over two dozen kids’ names on it. The reindeer settled lightly of the rooftop, while their breath fogged up like steam from their noses. The roof was flat and covered with about a foot of new snow. Flakes were drifting slowly down, sticking in both the reindeer’s pelts and Rodney’s housecoat.
The night was still again, and so quiet that the stars above his head were sharp to both John’s eyes and his ears. With every toy he helped pass out something inside his chest was tearing to get out. For the first time in far too long, he wanted something for himself, a little something that would make up for everything he sacrificed for Atlantis and his people.
"Hey, McKay," John said softly and reached up his hand to scratch the back of his head. He looked up finding the big dipper pointing in sky, "I just wanted to say, you know, thanks for inviting me home for Christmas. I really - I mean, it was nice of you. To do that."
Rodney looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at John with an expression that either meant there was a Wraith or Carter hiding behind John. He resisted the urge to check and ducked his head, opening his mouth to take it back and tell Rodney that he actually had wanted to go check out the snow bunnies in Colorado.
"ItwasJeannie’sidea," Rodney exploded quickly, his cheeks burning red in the dim light. His shoulders hunched in and he squinted his eyes as if he needed the extra protection from the weather. For that moment, Rodney was as motionless as the background, and as far away as the moon.
"Oh," John breathed the word, sucking in one breath after another and turning back to the sleigh. "We’d better get on with this. Who’s next on the list?"
Stops eventually started blurring together and the moon slowly moved across the sky even though John never felt any more fatigued than what he’d started out. The list always had new names, the sack always had new presents, and Rodney was always just out of his reach.
He guessed it was somewhere in Scandinavia that Comet struck again and ate Rodney’s robe when they were taking a quick break. Comet had a gleam in his eye, and John swore that as he took him arm out of the sleeve of his borrowed coat so Rodney could crowd next to him and share that the rest of the reindeer were laughing at him again.
The next time they stopped, John got up to stretch his legs and idly wondered out loud whether reindeer jerky was better than beef jerky. The reindeer kept their minds on the job after that, and John was left to his own devices as he tortured himself in Rodney’s touch.
Rodney didn’t even realize when they touched down in the front yard of the same place they started out from, just turned around and stuck his head in the sack calling back in a muffled voice, "What’s the brat’s name this time?"
"Madison Miller," John smirked as Rodney jerked in surprise and nearly slid the wrong way over the seat. "Last stop of the night, McKay, better make it a good one."
John got out of the sleigh, leaving the robe on the seat and walked up the line of reindeer, patting each one on the shoulder until he got to Comet. He ran his hand down Comet’s neck and bent low over the reindeer and said quietly, "Thanks for trying buddy, but sometimes it just isn’t meant to be."
Comet made a low sound, swung his head around to nudge John in the chest, and looked up at him with intelligent and sad eyes. John rubbed one of his ears gently and then moved on up the line until he got to Rudolph. He was going to miss them, even if they were smelly and meddling.
"You done yet?" Rodney yelled from the sleigh and John turned just in time to see a dollhouse sail up to the chimney. "That's it; I guess we can call it a night now."
"Yeah," John agreed, glancing back up at a sky that was once as familiar as the back of his hand. It seemed smaller now somehow. He could see the barest hints in the eastern horizon that heralded the coming of dawn. "Go on guys, you all can head back home now."
Comet shot him a disgusted glare, and pawed at the snow, fidgeting in the harness and utterly ignoring John's shooing motions. Rudolf stood stock-still and no amount of pushing would get him to move even one hoof. John turned back to tell Rodney to help him, and scowled when he saw that Rodney had already went inside.
John was almost to the threshold when he heard Rodney squawk and ran the rest of the way. He slid through the hallway and crashed into Rodney where he stood in the middle of the entryway of the living room. Rodney shrugged him off, and stuck his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes before turning back to the couch.
"You!" Rodney stage whispered loud enough to be most peoples’ normal volume of speech. "So we’ve been all over Earth, and you’ve been here raiding my fridge and watching my tivo?"
John finally turned away from Rodney and realized what had ruffled Rodney's feathers. Santa Clause, who had looked more like a smoked turkey the last time they saw him was sitting in the living room. Wrappers and empty tupperware littered the path between couch and kitchen, and the low lights of the television flashed across the Saint's face.
Santa just raised an eyebrow and idly tugged at the whiskers on his chin. "Serves you right for bobby trapping your rooftop," he said and his voice sounded like peels of bells echoing through a cathedral. His eyes glinted and the crinkles on the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled, "How did Comet treat you?"
"He ate my bathrobe!"
"Ah, yes, he does get a bit peckish by the time we usually hit Finland," Santa said, standing and deftly plucked his hat from Rodney’s head to settle it on his own. "I’d better be off; Mrs. Clause will be wondering where I’ve been all this time."
Rodney flapped open his mouth a couple of times before his brain caught up with his mouth, "Oh come on! That’s it? No ‘thank you’, no ‘here have some life-saving technology’, not even an apology for that rabies-ridden animal devouring my clothing!"
Quickly, John stepped between Rodney and Santa, making sure to step on Rodney’s foot as he shifted. He glared over his shoulder before he turned back around to face the living legend in their living room. "Sorry about that Santa," he said, flashing his most charming grin. "We didn’t have time for a coffee stop, and Rodney gets a little psychotic when there’s too much blood in his caffeine system."
Rodney grunted behind him and started grumbling under his breath.
The Saint shared a conspiring smile with John and winked at him under low bushy eyebrows. "No, he’s quite right," Santa said reaching up to touch his finger to his nose. "You boys did good work tonight; the least I could do is to grant a wish or two."
Suddenly, John had a really bad feeling.
"Yes," Santa continued, his face transforming from kindly old man to something too beautiful to be human, a bright light that filled the room with a soft glow of warmth. "I think I know just the thing."
The light expanded to several bright tendrils, towering up to the ceiling. It flared once, making John duck back toward Rodney and throw an arm up to cover both their eyes for a heartbeat, and then it was gone. John blinked his eyes open, relieved to see that they were now alone in the living room. He turned back to Rodney and matched him wide-eyed glance for glance.
"You don’t think?" Rodney started, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead.
"No," John said deftly, immediately beginning the process of repressing the entire night. By morning, he’d be able to deny and deflect anything Rodney or anyone else threw at him no matter what kind of ingenious torture they came up with. He was not about to let Jackson catch wind of the theory that Santa was an Ascended being. No way.
They'd never escape the SGC again.
Rodney nodded, and shivered a little, probably also imagining the meeting and psychiatric evaluations they’d have to go through if they ever let wind of this little escapade out. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the staircase and said, "Yeah, I guess I’ll just go turn in."
"Yeah, cool," John answered absentmindedly, and decided that he’d let himself have just a little longer with the weirdest night of his life. He waited for Rodney to leave so he could go to the kitchen and make some coffee, but Rodney didn’t move. "You kinda need to get some forward mobility going McKay, if you’re going to go to bed."
"I’m trying," Rodney said, panic creeping into his voice as he started to jerk his torso around and windmill his arms in circles around his body. "I’m trying to go, but my feet won’t move."
Immediately, John tried to take a step and felt vertigo sweep through him as his feet didn’t move. He was sure he was going to land on his nose before Rodney caught him. "Jesus," he said, getting his balance back. "What the hell is going on? Oh shit."
John craned his neck up, and just like he’d feared, a sprig of mistletoe hung in the doorway above their heads. Santa was one evil bastard. He wouldn't doubt that Comet was in on it too.
"Is that a-?"
"Yes," John growled cutting into Rodney’s question and closing his eyes against the roiling in his gut. He pinched the top of his nose and sighed. "Let’s just get this over with."
"'Get this'? You don’t mean -"
Opening his eyes, John saw Rodney’s pinched and worried face just as he knew he would. "I mean, pucker up and think of Atlantis," he said harshly, stomping down on the part of himself that was thankful over the chance to finally touch Rodney with purpose.
"But, I don’t, we don’t," Rodney babbled, his hands waving in front of his face and gesturing back and forth between them. "Colonel!"
Maybe it was the return to his rank after hearing the familiarity of his own name come from Rodney’s mouth, but suddenly John was angry. Incredibly angry, at himself, at Santa, and at a nation of fucked up politics. "Just close your fucking eyes and pretend I’m Carter," he said harsher than he should have by the flinch in Rodney’s eyes.
"But she’s shorter than I - umfph."
John tipped Rodney’s face up to meet his. Both their lips were dry, and the friction rubbing between them made him ache and want more. He knew his hands were too tight on Rodney’s face, and he gentled them with effort, running his thumb over Rodney’s eyebrow and down his cheek. Their noses mashed against each other and their warm breath mingled in the small space between them.
Rodney stood motionless in front of him, his hands fisted and pushing just slightly at John's hips. He was almost vibrating under John's hands, and hummed in the back of his throat. John tilted his head just a fraction to the side and rested their foreheads together, letting his eyes fall shut as he reveled in sensation.
A tingle ran down his body, starting from the crown of his head and traveling to the soles of his feet. An overwhelming feeling of being stuck in some sort of cosmic episode of Punk’d settled on John’s shoulders and he wrenched his head back. Gratefully finding that he could move his feet again, John brushed past Rodney and headed toward the stairs. He could pack up his single bag, make Kaleb’s office look like he’d never even been there, and be gone by the time the sun finally peeked in.
He’d only reached the bottom step when he heard Rodney softly call out his name. John stuttered to a stop and felt his shoulders drop while he reluctantly turned around. Rodney hadn't moved yet, and was standing with his hand held up to his bottom lip.
"John," Rodney said again, a little more forcefully and crossed half the distance of the living room. The lights from the Christmas tree blinked over his skin, bathing him multicolored flashes and canyons of shadow. "Jeannie only had the idea to invite you for Christmas after I reminder her about how well you got along with Madison, and mentioned that I didn’t think that you’d go anywhere else."
"What?" he asked, lifting his eyes just a fraction further so that he could meet Rodney’s gaze. He held himself so still that the muscles in his back and shoulders ached. "Why?"
Rodney moved forward another few feet, cautiously lifting his hand and placing it beside John's on the banister. He glanced up from under his eyelashes, but then slanted his eyes away. "Because I," he started, and then stopped and took a breath. He shifted and curled his fingers to nudge at John's hands. He looked John full in the eye and tried again, "Because you . . ."
Thinking carefully, John slowly flipped his hand over, and tried to convince his gut not to tie itself in knots. Seconds later Rodney hesitantly feathered his hand over John's, they slid together warm skin on warm skin until they were resting palm to palm. It was such a small touch; something that even strangers did.
John looked up with a small smile playing on the edges of his mouth, and he felt Rodney relax just the barest of a fraction. He curled his fingers tighter, and rubbed his thumb up the back of Rodney's hand.
"Presents!"
The high-pitched squeal echoed down the stairs just a second before John was bowled over by a flash of pink footie pajamas. Rodney took one look at him sprawled upside down over the bottom step and broke out into hoots of laughter while Madison exclaimed over all the presents piled under the tree. All John could do was lay on the heavy carpeting trying to catch his breath.
Jeannie followed her daughter down the stairs, sat each foot under the other with a heavy thump, and stepped zombie like over John's body. She hadn't even opened her eyes once, but she managed to make it to the kitchen without knocking anything over. Kaleb followed a second later, whistling tunelessly and skipping over John's still outstretched legs.
Rodney was still bent over trying to catch him breath when the hollering began.
"Meredith Rodney McKay! What did you do to my kitchen, and why does the front yard look like someone did donuts in it with a four-wheeler!" Jeannie yelled, far more awake than she'd been just a moment ago.
Rodney sobered up instantly, turning to John with a pleading look, "You've got to save me."
"I think you're on your own for this one buddy," John replied, standing up and putting a little more of a limp into his knee than it strictly needed. He wasn't about to be the first one into the kitchen, not even for Rodney.
"It's all right guys," Kaleb said, holding up a small velvet covered box and wiggling at them. It was the kind that was always on the television commercials filled with outrageously expensive diamonds. "I got this one."
John smirked and wandered over to sit on the couch and watch Madison tear through her stocking stuffers. She had found the dollhouse, and sat right beside it so she could sneak quick touches in between other presents. There was already a small mound of wrapping paper at her feet and the cat crept closer and closer waiting to see if it would move.
A cell phone went off, and John sighed in relief as Rodney moved away to answer it. He nearly melted boneless into the couch, his body tired enough that if he managed to find five minutes of peace, he'd be out for the rest of the day catching up on missed sleep. The cat lost interest in the paper and jumped up on his lap, turning once before settling into a little vibrating ball of warmth.
"Hey," Rodney said, sliding into the spot on the couch right next to John. They were close enough that if either of them shifted at all, they'd be touching. "That was the SGC, I guess Midway's down and we're going to be here for another week or so."
"Yeah?" John asked, carefully keeping his eyes and hands on the cat in front of him, and not on Rodney's face. He wasn't going to let himself build up any hope that what had happened would change anything between them. They were friends; that was all.
The couch shifted as Madison climbed up on Rodney's lap with a book about horses and jostled them into each other's space. With a barely there motion, Rodney moved the two fingers of his right hand onto John's thigh, and softly moved them back and forth. He kept his eyes on what Madison was showing him, but there was a blush creeping up his cheek.
"Yeah," Rodney repeated once Madison had gone back to reading by herself. He cocked his head, and twisted his mouth into a hopeful smile, "I thought maybe we could go skiing or something."
John petted the cat and rearranged her on his lap so that his knee was poking Rodney's thigh, and grinned, "Sounds like a plan."