Fic: Sky is falling
Title: Sky is falling
Author: mboyd
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay (a wink of Parrish/Lorne)
Notes: For wickedwords, who had asked for Sheppard/McKay or Parrish/Lorne, and requested romance and 'day in the life'-type stories about nothing. I hope this meets your holiday wish. Thank you to my beta, who is just about the best cheerleader and idea bouncer ever.
Summary: "Come on, what's the worst thing that could happen?"
While he's forming his response and mentally listing all the ways this could go spectacularly wrong, Elizabeth gives him a sweet smile and walks out of her office, and John would swear good money he could see a copy of Martha Stewart Living peeking out from behind a copy of Diplomacy Today.
---
It all starts with a plan. A small plan, a nice plan, a plan that John could get behind. Teyla wanted a small feast on the mainland, something for the members of Atlantis and the Athosians to celebrate both a successful harvest as well as a bit of calm in their corner of Pegasus. And the words "harvest ceremony" didn't pass anyone's lips.
But then Elizabeth suggests expanding the guest list.
"It's the perfect opportunity for our allies, our friends to all come together, to share stories as well as food and drink," Elizabeth says, typing notes in her data pad.
John can practically see the gears turning; he can hear the buzzwords generated--alliance, trade, and cultural awareness. He doesn't have anything to add, and so while Teyla and Elizabeth start on the guest list, he heads out to the jumper bay with Rodney, who's musing on the likelihood the guests' dishes will contain citrus.
When he's presented the next morning with first a guest list--complete with gate addresses--and then an itinerary, John has to say something.
"What? No Genii?"
"We considered it," Elizabeth says, highlighting what looked suspiciously like a menu. "But both Ronon and Rodney made statements that boiled down to over their dead bodies."
He couldn't disagree with them on that one.
"Even without the Genii, isn't this, I don't know, tempting fate?"
"How so?" Elizabeth asks looking for all the world as though she doesn't have the slightest clue what he means. He has to hand it to her, she almost has him fooled.
"Go make friends? Wake the Wraith. Trade for tava beans? Make an enemy with a love of C4 and the desire to shoot us. Any of this ring a bell?"
"I'd expect this concern from Rodney, John, but I didn't think I'd hear it from you."
"Besides, isn't Atlantis supposed to be blown up, while we're currently living the nomadic lifestyle? I do remember that correctly, don't I?"
"Yes, well secret keeping isn't exactly our forte, is it, Colonel?"
"We do better with some than others."
And then she had to go and say it.
"Come on, what's the worst thing that could happen?"
While he's forming his response and mentally listing all the ways this could go spectacularly wrong, Elizabeth gives him a sweet smile and walks out of her office, and John would swear good money he could see a copy of Martha Stewart Living peeking out from behind a copy of Diplomacy Today.
And so, in the matter of a few minutes the small feast suddenly morphed into a large feast, complete with potluck, music and dancing. John wonders if Sgt. Johnson has a surplus of red paint among her art supplies to paint targets on all of their asses, but in the meantime, he gathers up the team to go make social calls.
oo--oo--oo
The kids on M7G-677 take the invitation just as John expects they would-like a bunch of kids that just got invited to a party. Keras smiles and accepts, inviting them to stay for a meal, where Rodney sits close enough to John that they're pressed together from hip to knee. John distracts himself by keeping a watchful eye out for Ares, as well as the marauding hair and makeup bandits who got Zelenka on their last visit, but neither makes an appearance.
They receive similar acceptances-and offers to share a meal--on M4C-559, Goran, and M1K-439 (former alpha site and new home for the Taranians). John keeps his eyes on the skies and the gate, searching surreptitiously for any signs of any loose headshots from the Genii's "wanted poster" phase, and absolutely does not practically attach himself to Rodney's side at the first sign of Norina.
When they run into Eldon on M4C-559, John half expects to glimpse blue-faced, kilted warriors yelling a chorus of "Freedom!" from the surrounding hills.
"Eldon? God, I'd nearly forgotten about you," Rodney says after the other man approaches them with a wave.
"That's okay, Dr. McKay, most people do. It works to my advantage."
At a loss for where exactly to steer the conversation, John asks, "Want to go to a party?"
On Manaria, John's waiting for a welcoming party of Genii conspirators who haven't read the "Atlantis is our friend" memo, and he snaps at Rodney when it's suggested they simply ask where the Satedan village is located. But then Ronon sees people he knew and the way the big guy just sort of melts when a young-looking, gray-haired woman sees him and says his name so damn happily that John feels a heat behind his eyes and he sees Rodney's blinking back some tears himself.
After some quick introductions, the gray haired woman is Analia, a former neighbor--and babysitter, as it turns out--of Ronon's, they're taken around the village, meeting men, women and children from Sateda. John finds himself standing closer to his teammates throughout the day, with this reminder of friends and family lost and found again.
Ronon's quiet on the ride home, but as the days draw closer, he gets more animated-well, as animated as Ronon gets--and is acting like a kid who's about to have his friends over for his first party, all nervous energy and wanting to be cool while at the same time feeling that urge to fidget and spin like a kid at a barbershop.
oo--oo--oo
The day of the party, Elizabeth stands in the center of the gate room, directing traffic and consulting her spreadsheet for the transportation schedule to the mainland. John helps Lorne and Dr. Parrish load up some flowers--Paphiopedilum lawrenceanum, as Lorne informs him, and John wonders when Lorne took up an interest in botany--and by the time the final Satedan has arrived, the celebration is well underway.
In the end, the feast goes off without so much as a dropped fork. Not a newfound blood rivalry, nor so much as the whine of a mosquito. Which could be why, when Teyla, Elizabeth, Radek, Carson, Ronon, and Rodney have all left the table to join in the dancing and singing that's started up, John's sitting at the table waiting for the sky to start falling.
"Hey," McKay says, slightly out of breath from whatever dance it was that just finished--a dance that looked eerily like the square dancing John had to do in the school gym when he was in fifth grade, only this time with more bounce and live music--dropping down onto the bench next to John.
"You look like you're having fun," John comments, looking at Rodney's flushed face and the easy smile that he's aiming in John's direction.
"I am, actually. It's nice to just be able to, I don't know--" Rodney leans back against the table, his legs stretched out in front of him, and twirls his hand, looking up at the night sky as if searching for the right word.
"Relax?" John offers.
"Yes! Exactly. For one night, someone else can worry about keeping Atlantis afloat."
Swiping John's mug from his loose fingers, Rodney takes a swallow before handing it back. The hairs on the back of John's neck are standing on end as he searches his memory for how to detect a pod person.
"What? Do I something on my face? What?" Rodney rubs a hand over his mouth, his brow furrowed in concern. "Sheppard, what's wrong?"
John pokes Rodney's forehead and finds solid skin and bone.
"Ow." Rodney smacks John's shoulder. "What the hell was that for?"
"Just checking."
"For what? Reflexes? Inebriation? Afraid I might've been square dancing while drunk?"
"We're on the mist planet, aren't we? Or some parallel universe. You're relaxed and things are going scarily well, and I'm--"
"Acting like a crazy person," Rodney helpfully suggests, reaching down and unsnap the bottom strap of John's thigh holster.
"You've got your hand on my thigh and you're calling me crazy? Let's look at the--"
"John."
That stops him mid-sentence. He closes his mouth, looks down at the hand Rodney has rested on his thigh and then back up into Rodney's eyes.
"At the risk of sounding terribly clichŽ, shut up and kiss me."
In the face of such a demand, what else can John do but obey. He leans forward, hand reaching up to cup Rodney's face, and then they're kissing. They're at an awkward angle, facing opposite directions on the bench, until Rodney slides his leg over to straddle the bench and tugs at John's leg until he does the same.
With the few brain cells that are firing and aren't focusing on their kiss, John notes with relief that, although they're in a semi-public place, no one seems to be paying any attention to them.
"This is the point where the radioactive creatures from the Black Lagoon ride up to the shore on dolphins, isn't it?" John asks as Rodney pulls John's leg up over his own, decreasing the space between them that much more.
"The stuff in the glass jars with the big skull and crossbones isn't for drinking. How many times do I have tell you?"
"Very funny. I saw it on Doctor Who once." John hitches his leg further up Rodney's, because if the glowing sea creatures are going to come and get them, he's going to enjoy this while he's got it.
"You are so--"
"Hot?"
"I was going for strange, but the Doctor Who thing? That's hot." Cupping John's face in his hands, Rodney leans forward and kisses him slowly, sweetly, again and again.
oo--oo--oo
"Share my blanket with me?" John asks, sliding his hand underneath the hem of Rodney's t-shirt.
"Now you're getting with the program," Rodney says in place of an answer, squeezing John's thigh.
oo--oo--oo
They make a quick trek to the jumper to snag the blankets, and while maneuvering back through the crowd, John's hand finds the small of Rodney's back. Rodney turns slightly and smiles, nearly tripping over a sleeping Manarian as he does so.
The clearing is scattered with sleeping guests and John's reminded of going to concerts in college, when you couldn't walk three feet without tripping over someone who was asleep/drunk/stoned/otherwise engaged. It's a little more organized now, but not by much. John knows that Teyla still has a place here, an Athosian version of the family cabin in the woods, and she disappeared some time before with Lt. Martin in tow. Ronon's fallen asleep nearly at Analia's feet, and her children--Gaeden, Noal, Cheilia and Lia--are all using his chest as a pillow. Lorne looks like he's lost half an arm up under Doctor Parrish's shirt, and that solves that question.
On a small hill just to the south of the main area, they find a spot that's relatively clear of people and silently agree to make camp. While Rodney spreads out the blankets, John looks up at the sky, the tree line, toward the ocean, one more time. Rodney rolls his eyes and leans in, kissing him again. John isn't expecting the smack to the back of his head, although he probably should have.
"Stop worrying." Rodney smoothes over the spot he just hit and then curls his hand around the back of John's neck, drawing him closer, and by the time they break for air, John's forgotten what he was worried about in the first place.
oo--oo--oo
They settle onto the blankets, fitting together easily just as John should have known they would. Rodney hums in what could be considered triumph as he settles back into John's arms. John nuzzles the skin and hair at the back of Rodney's neck, it smells faintly of wood smoke, a sweet scent that reminds him of pipe tobacco.
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Rodney says, his fingertips skimming over the back of John's wrists and hands.
"What's that?" John presses a necklace of kisses just above the collar of Rodney's shirt.
"If I were really a pod person, I'd be busy taking over Atlantis, not cuddled up on a blanket with you like two teenagers in love."
"You do have a point there."
"Of course I do."
"So you really think we're--"
"Of course we are. Now go to sleep." Rodney's fingers lace with his and John tightens his hold.
In love, he thinks and waits for the worry to appear. It doesn't. He reminds himself to worry about that in the morning. After he tells Rodney he was right.
The last thing John remembers before falling asleep is the feel of Rodney's heartbeat underneath his palm.
Author: mboyd
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay (a wink of Parrish/Lorne)
Notes: For wickedwords, who had asked for Sheppard/McKay or Parrish/Lorne, and requested romance and 'day in the life'-type stories about nothing. I hope this meets your holiday wish. Thank you to my beta, who is just about the best cheerleader and idea bouncer ever.
Summary: "Come on, what's the worst thing that could happen?"
While he's forming his response and mentally listing all the ways this could go spectacularly wrong, Elizabeth gives him a sweet smile and walks out of her office, and John would swear good money he could see a copy of Martha Stewart Living peeking out from behind a copy of Diplomacy Today.
---
It all starts with a plan. A small plan, a nice plan, a plan that John could get behind. Teyla wanted a small feast on the mainland, something for the members of Atlantis and the Athosians to celebrate both a successful harvest as well as a bit of calm in their corner of Pegasus. And the words "harvest ceremony" didn't pass anyone's lips.
But then Elizabeth suggests expanding the guest list.
"It's the perfect opportunity for our allies, our friends to all come together, to share stories as well as food and drink," Elizabeth says, typing notes in her data pad.
John can practically see the gears turning; he can hear the buzzwords generated--alliance, trade, and cultural awareness. He doesn't have anything to add, and so while Teyla and Elizabeth start on the guest list, he heads out to the jumper bay with Rodney, who's musing on the likelihood the guests' dishes will contain citrus.
When he's presented the next morning with first a guest list--complete with gate addresses--and then an itinerary, John has to say something.
"What? No Genii?"
"We considered it," Elizabeth says, highlighting what looked suspiciously like a menu. "But both Ronon and Rodney made statements that boiled down to over their dead bodies."
He couldn't disagree with them on that one.
"Even without the Genii, isn't this, I don't know, tempting fate?"
"How so?" Elizabeth asks looking for all the world as though she doesn't have the slightest clue what he means. He has to hand it to her, she almost has him fooled.
"Go make friends? Wake the Wraith. Trade for tava beans? Make an enemy with a love of C4 and the desire to shoot us. Any of this ring a bell?"
"I'd expect this concern from Rodney, John, but I didn't think I'd hear it from you."
"Besides, isn't Atlantis supposed to be blown up, while we're currently living the nomadic lifestyle? I do remember that correctly, don't I?"
"Yes, well secret keeping isn't exactly our forte, is it, Colonel?"
"We do better with some than others."
And then she had to go and say it.
"Come on, what's the worst thing that could happen?"
While he's forming his response and mentally listing all the ways this could go spectacularly wrong, Elizabeth gives him a sweet smile and walks out of her office, and John would swear good money he could see a copy of Martha Stewart Living peeking out from behind a copy of Diplomacy Today.
And so, in the matter of a few minutes the small feast suddenly morphed into a large feast, complete with potluck, music and dancing. John wonders if Sgt. Johnson has a surplus of red paint among her art supplies to paint targets on all of their asses, but in the meantime, he gathers up the team to go make social calls.
oo--oo--oo
The kids on M7G-677 take the invitation just as John expects they would-like a bunch of kids that just got invited to a party. Keras smiles and accepts, inviting them to stay for a meal, where Rodney sits close enough to John that they're pressed together from hip to knee. John distracts himself by keeping a watchful eye out for Ares, as well as the marauding hair and makeup bandits who got Zelenka on their last visit, but neither makes an appearance.
They receive similar acceptances-and offers to share a meal--on M4C-559, Goran, and M1K-439 (former alpha site and new home for the Taranians). John keeps his eyes on the skies and the gate, searching surreptitiously for any signs of any loose headshots from the Genii's "wanted poster" phase, and absolutely does not practically attach himself to Rodney's side at the first sign of Norina.
When they run into Eldon on M4C-559, John half expects to glimpse blue-faced, kilted warriors yelling a chorus of "Freedom!" from the surrounding hills.
"Eldon? God, I'd nearly forgotten about you," Rodney says after the other man approaches them with a wave.
"That's okay, Dr. McKay, most people do. It works to my advantage."
At a loss for where exactly to steer the conversation, John asks, "Want to go to a party?"
On Manaria, John's waiting for a welcoming party of Genii conspirators who haven't read the "Atlantis is our friend" memo, and he snaps at Rodney when it's suggested they simply ask where the Satedan village is located. But then Ronon sees people he knew and the way the big guy just sort of melts when a young-looking, gray-haired woman sees him and says his name so damn happily that John feels a heat behind his eyes and he sees Rodney's blinking back some tears himself.
After some quick introductions, the gray haired woman is Analia, a former neighbor--and babysitter, as it turns out--of Ronon's, they're taken around the village, meeting men, women and children from Sateda. John finds himself standing closer to his teammates throughout the day, with this reminder of friends and family lost and found again.
Ronon's quiet on the ride home, but as the days draw closer, he gets more animated-well, as animated as Ronon gets--and is acting like a kid who's about to have his friends over for his first party, all nervous energy and wanting to be cool while at the same time feeling that urge to fidget and spin like a kid at a barbershop.
oo--oo--oo
The day of the party, Elizabeth stands in the center of the gate room, directing traffic and consulting her spreadsheet for the transportation schedule to the mainland. John helps Lorne and Dr. Parrish load up some flowers--Paphiopedilum lawrenceanum, as Lorne informs him, and John wonders when Lorne took up an interest in botany--and by the time the final Satedan has arrived, the celebration is well underway.
In the end, the feast goes off without so much as a dropped fork. Not a newfound blood rivalry, nor so much as the whine of a mosquito. Which could be why, when Teyla, Elizabeth, Radek, Carson, Ronon, and Rodney have all left the table to join in the dancing and singing that's started up, John's sitting at the table waiting for the sky to start falling.
"Hey," McKay says, slightly out of breath from whatever dance it was that just finished--a dance that looked eerily like the square dancing John had to do in the school gym when he was in fifth grade, only this time with more bounce and live music--dropping down onto the bench next to John.
"You look like you're having fun," John comments, looking at Rodney's flushed face and the easy smile that he's aiming in John's direction.
"I am, actually. It's nice to just be able to, I don't know--" Rodney leans back against the table, his legs stretched out in front of him, and twirls his hand, looking up at the night sky as if searching for the right word.
"Relax?" John offers.
"Yes! Exactly. For one night, someone else can worry about keeping Atlantis afloat."
Swiping John's mug from his loose fingers, Rodney takes a swallow before handing it back. The hairs on the back of John's neck are standing on end as he searches his memory for how to detect a pod person.
"What? Do I something on my face? What?" Rodney rubs a hand over his mouth, his brow furrowed in concern. "Sheppard, what's wrong?"
John pokes Rodney's forehead and finds solid skin and bone.
"Ow." Rodney smacks John's shoulder. "What the hell was that for?"
"Just checking."
"For what? Reflexes? Inebriation? Afraid I might've been square dancing while drunk?"
"We're on the mist planet, aren't we? Or some parallel universe. You're relaxed and things are going scarily well, and I'm--"
"Acting like a crazy person," Rodney helpfully suggests, reaching down and unsnap the bottom strap of John's thigh holster.
"You've got your hand on my thigh and you're calling me crazy? Let's look at the--"
"John."
That stops him mid-sentence. He closes his mouth, looks down at the hand Rodney has rested on his thigh and then back up into Rodney's eyes.
"At the risk of sounding terribly clichŽ, shut up and kiss me."
In the face of such a demand, what else can John do but obey. He leans forward, hand reaching up to cup Rodney's face, and then they're kissing. They're at an awkward angle, facing opposite directions on the bench, until Rodney slides his leg over to straddle the bench and tugs at John's leg until he does the same.
With the few brain cells that are firing and aren't focusing on their kiss, John notes with relief that, although they're in a semi-public place, no one seems to be paying any attention to them.
"This is the point where the radioactive creatures from the Black Lagoon ride up to the shore on dolphins, isn't it?" John asks as Rodney pulls John's leg up over his own, decreasing the space between them that much more.
"The stuff in the glass jars with the big skull and crossbones isn't for drinking. How many times do I have tell you?"
"Very funny. I saw it on Doctor Who once." John hitches his leg further up Rodney's, because if the glowing sea creatures are going to come and get them, he's going to enjoy this while he's got it.
"You are so--"
"Hot?"
"I was going for strange, but the Doctor Who thing? That's hot." Cupping John's face in his hands, Rodney leans forward and kisses him slowly, sweetly, again and again.
oo--oo--oo
"Share my blanket with me?" John asks, sliding his hand underneath the hem of Rodney's t-shirt.
"Now you're getting with the program," Rodney says in place of an answer, squeezing John's thigh.
oo--oo--oo
They make a quick trek to the jumper to snag the blankets, and while maneuvering back through the crowd, John's hand finds the small of Rodney's back. Rodney turns slightly and smiles, nearly tripping over a sleeping Manarian as he does so.
The clearing is scattered with sleeping guests and John's reminded of going to concerts in college, when you couldn't walk three feet without tripping over someone who was asleep/drunk/stoned/otherwise engaged. It's a little more organized now, but not by much. John knows that Teyla still has a place here, an Athosian version of the family cabin in the woods, and she disappeared some time before with Lt. Martin in tow. Ronon's fallen asleep nearly at Analia's feet, and her children--Gaeden, Noal, Cheilia and Lia--are all using his chest as a pillow. Lorne looks like he's lost half an arm up under Doctor Parrish's shirt, and that solves that question.
On a small hill just to the south of the main area, they find a spot that's relatively clear of people and silently agree to make camp. While Rodney spreads out the blankets, John looks up at the sky, the tree line, toward the ocean, one more time. Rodney rolls his eyes and leans in, kissing him again. John isn't expecting the smack to the back of his head, although he probably should have.
"Stop worrying." Rodney smoothes over the spot he just hit and then curls his hand around the back of John's neck, drawing him closer, and by the time they break for air, John's forgotten what he was worried about in the first place.
oo--oo--oo
They settle onto the blankets, fitting together easily just as John should have known they would. Rodney hums in what could be considered triumph as he settles back into John's arms. John nuzzles the skin and hair at the back of Rodney's neck, it smells faintly of wood smoke, a sweet scent that reminds him of pipe tobacco.
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Rodney says, his fingertips skimming over the back of John's wrists and hands.
"What's that?" John presses a necklace of kisses just above the collar of Rodney's shirt.
"If I were really a pod person, I'd be busy taking over Atlantis, not cuddled up on a blanket with you like two teenagers in love."
"You do have a point there."
"Of course I do."
"So you really think we're--"
"Of course we are. Now go to sleep." Rodney's fingers lace with his and John tightens his hold.
In love, he thinks and waits for the worry to appear. It doesn't. He reminds himself to worry about that in the morning. After he tells Rodney he was right.
The last thing John remembers before falling asleep is the feel of Rodney's heartbeat underneath his palm.