Fic: A Yellow Wood (SGA, John/Rodney PG)
Title: A Yellow Wood
Author: tigerlady
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit being made from this.
Summary: Rodney's had a long, hard couple of weeks. (I realize I need a better summary than this, but I can't think of one. A little angst, a bit of schmoop, mostly the boys being themselves, I hope.)
Spoilers: SG-1 The Road Not Taken
Notes: I was bitten by a brain-eating bunny last night. I wasn't sure how to pull this off until my husband said "why? what if...", and so the thanks have to go to him. 2000 words.
"Hey honey, I'm home! You would not believe the day I've had," Rodney called, more to relieve tension than any half-crazed belief that he'd be answered. The house had been empty far too long now, and tonight, he was feeling it.
He reset the alarm on autopilot, then made a beeline for the kitchen. He frowned at the fridge; with all the excitement the last few weeks, he hadn't gotten around to finding a new housekeeper. He didn't have so much as take-out leftovers chilling out on the bare shelves.
He did, however, have beer.
The state of his cupboards wasn't much better than Old Mother Hubbard's, but he did find a box of Cocoa Puffs stuffed behind a package of stale crackers and a questionable jar of peanut butter. He briefly considered dumping both beer and puffs together in a big bowl, but even he had limits. Tofurkey, for instance.
Rodney, beer, and puffs trundled out to the living room. He kicked off his loafers and settled in on his couch in front of the TV. He really wasn't much of a television guy, especially with the state of the entertainment industry these days. But he needed to relax. A little mindless drivel would be perfect.
Rodney ran his thumb over the rubber buttons of the remote, frowning at the box of cereal in front of his view. He was never very good at lying to himself. The only reason he ever got away with it was the fact that he tended to be stupidly gullible at times.
He sighed and pushed the box out of the way. Three buttons was all it took to queue up the recording. One more push, and there she was, live and in action. Well, not live, since it was a recording, and especially since she wasn't really...
Rodney took a big gulp of his beer. Her eyes went wide on the screen as the President announced her success, and then she faked a smile that had probably fooled the entire country.
"Reliving the good old days, McKay?"
Rodney dropped his beer, sent the Cocoa Puffs flying off the coffee table, and grabbed for the remote all in one breath. Then he gasped for the next and clutched at his heart in relief when he realized John was the one hovering over his sofa, not some crazed stalker out to relieve him of his worldly goods as well as his life.
"Oh, my God! Don't do that!" He shut off the player, then scrambled to his feet, brushing at the puddle of beer on his pants.
"Sorry," John said, not sounding sorry at all. "I guess you didn't notice I was back."
"How would I notice that, with you skulking and sneaking around like a thief?" His pants were a lost cause, so he unbuckled his belt and dropped them to the floor. His boxers were damp as well, but there wasn't any way he was going to stand around with his ass hanging out in the breeze. Even in his own house.
"I wasn't hiding," John snipped. "I was in the bathroom."
"Now see, how was I supposed to know that?"
"I guess you were too intent on getting to your porn collection to see my bags in the hall."
"My porn-- What?"
John jutted his chin towards the TV screen, clearly indicating his dissatisfaction.
Rodney pulled his glasses off and scrubbed at his eyes. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was lonely. John looked like a wet dream--tie missing and the first few buttons of his shirt opened so that his chest hair peeked out, sleeves rolled up like he always wore them when he flew--except for the sour look puckering his mouth into something very unattractive.
"Okay, can we back up?" he asked. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren't coming in until tomorrow night."
John's pout dipped into a frown, the one that said he'd just been caught trying to cheat at solitaire. "They cleared me early for some reason."
"Really? That never happens. Maybe this whole presidential advisor thing has some trickle down effects. Or, ooh! Maybe some real changes are happening now. Sam said..." He stopped as the reality of the situation hit him. He pointed an accusing finger. "You were trying to surprise me!"
John crossed his arm and glared back. "And obviously, it worked."
Rodney grinned. "You missed me!"
"I missed having a good night's sleep," John muttered, but he let his arms drop.
Rodney took a step closer and poked John in the shoulder. "Yes, because you don't sleep well without me beside you."
John grabbed his finger. "Yeah, okay, I missed you. But I'm guessing you can't say the same."
"What? Of course I missed you." Rodney leaned in for a welcome home kiss, but John turned his head at the last second. Rodney's lips greeted beard instead of soft lips. "Okay, what the hell?"
"How's Major Carter doing?"
Just like that, the happy--if confused--glow that had come with John's return went dark like it had never been. Rodney turned away, but that only presented him with Sam's face frozen on screen. He picked up his pants instead and used one of the dry legs to start scrubbing at the groin-shaped patch of beer on the couch cushion. It didn't help much. The fabric had been treated, but he was familiar enough with chemistry to know that really wouldn't help. At least the guarantee meant he could get the whole thing replaced, even if it was a gigantic hassle.
"Come on, McKay. If you want to go back to her, at least have the decency to tell me up front."
"She's dead," he blurted. He wanted to un-blurt it immediately. Saying it out loud wasn't therapeutic at all. The truth was out there, and it was blunt and ugly, bald as Hammond himself.
"Rodney?" Somehow John was directly in front of him, though Rodney hadn't seen him move. Like the Prometheus had picked him up and dropped him down again three paces away. He gently tugged the pants out of Rodney's hands. "What happened?"
Rodney shook his head. "It was an explosion. Stupid, really. She should have know better than to try to capture exotic particles like that. I mean, their very existence implies unpredictability, but I guess." Rodney licked his lips. "I guess with the Ori bearing down, she thought the risk was worth it."
"Wait. The Ori are back?"
"What?" Rodney blinked John into focused. He looked confused and worried, and ready to propel Rodney out the door. As if that would help if the Ori attacked. He waved his hand in the air, trying to get them back onto the same page. "No, no. I mean the initial threat. She died three weeks ago."
John pushed him towards the couch, but Rodney resisted. The cushion was still wet, after all.
"You're not making any sense, Rodney. Sam can't be dead. She saved Earth from the Ori, remember?"
Rodney sighed. "I realize that this is very complicated, and that I'm glossing over 99% of the technical details, but try to keep up. Major Samantha Carter was performing an experiment to try to power our defenses against the Ori--at the exact same time that Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter from another universe was performing an experiment on phase shifting. Long story short, universes collided, and Colonel Carter winds up here, saves us all from the Ori, sucks me into the thick of things, and then trots on back to her own universe. Not, I might add, without a lot of effort on my part."
John stroked the tip of his index finger across Rodney's clenched fist. "And the Sam from here?" he asked quietly.
"Didn't survive the initial explosion." He swallowed hard. "I almost called her 'my Sam' just now, to try to keep them straight. But she wasn't. Not even when we were married, I don't think."
"Rodney," John said, eyes soft like they'd been after the Ellison merger had crumbled. Open and accepting like when he'd confessed that Jeannie was the one who'd broken off their relationship because Rodney sucked as a big brother. Rodney hated it when John looked at him like that, because it meant something bad. Hated it, and loved it, because John looked at him like no one ever had.
"I'm okay," he said. "It was three weeks ago. It just hit me this afternoon, though. I was trying to untangle Colonel Carter's notes--she's a terribly sloppy programmer, for all of her perfectionism with documentation--and I thought, I'll just call Sam..."
The world blurred a bit. And then he was sitting on the edge of his bed, John kneeling in front of him. John's fingers were sure as they lifted his glasses off his face, sure on the buttons of his shirt, sure as they coaxed the cloth off of Rodney's shoulders, sure as they guided him under the covers. Rodney relaxed into that surety. Relaxed more as John slipped in beside him and gathered Rodney into his arms.
"I'm sorry," John whispered. "She was a pretty amazing woman."
"You hated her," Rodney murmured back.
"Yeah, well. She hurt you." John hugged him closer. "And because... Well, you know."
"I wasn't in love with her anymore," Rodney reassured him. It was true, too. He did love her, even had a jolt of lust whenever he saw her, but that was all. Their romance was good and dead.
Like she was now.
John sighed. The breath whistled through his nose and out over Rodney's cheek, tickling and warm. "My timing really sucks, doesn't it?"
"Yes, well, at least now I know I'm not the only petty one in the relationship."
"You get a pass on that for now," John said, squeezing him tighter.
Rodney snorted. "You'll love this. Colonel Carter wants me to use my influence for the greater good. Crazy, huh?"
John shrugged, rocking Rodney as he did so. "Well, if anybody can sneak a bomb into his office, it'd be you."
"Don't joke about that!"
"Who said I was joking?"
Rodney smacked at John's wrist, but he only really got himself in the chest. "Do you have any idea who could be listening in right now?"
"Like you'd let them get away with bugging you."
"Yes, well. I can't always be paranoid enough for both of us."
John chuckled. "I have faith in your abilities."
Rodney elbowed John in the gut. John flexed his fingers in Rodney's armpit. They wriggled against each other, on the verge of a wrestling match, but Rodney wasn't in the mood. John seemed to sense that.
"I think you need to try," John said a few moments later. "Do whatever you can to get the country back on track."
"She told me I was brave," Rodney mused out loud.
"Carter did?"
He nodded. "She was lying, of course. But it was nice to hear."
John dipped his head, nuzzling under Rodney's chin before he moved up to nose at Rodney's ear. "Guess what?" he whispered. "You're brave."
"Stop it."
John smiled; Rodney could hear the slide of his lips, the way he drew in an almost-laughing breath. "Brave, and smart, and conscientious, and persuasive, oh, and did I mention sexy, and-"
"Okay, thank you. Ego stroked now."
John laughed and nipped Rodney's earlobe. His words were bullshit, but Rodney didn't mind. Somehow, the way John said them, they felt true. Rodney sighed, relaxing as John relaxed against him. They stayed like that: quiet, breath slowing, night drifting into the room.
"I'm really glad I tried to buy you out," Rodney said, the truth blurting out of him again. This truth didn't hurt, though. "Best decision I ever made."
John snorted. "I'm really glad you tried to buy me out, too."
Warm contentment filled him for several seconds, but he couldn't hold onto it longer than that. "So does that mean you'll sell now?"
"You're not getting my company, McKay."
Rodney sighed.
John rubbed his groin against Rodney's hip. "But maybe we could talk about a merger later."
Rodney rolled onto his side, finally getting that welcome home kiss he'd waited too long for.
"Wait," he said when John pulled back. "Was that only innuendo, or did you actually mean that in a business sense? Because I'm fine either way, but--"
"Go to sleep, Rodney," John said, kissing him again.
Rodney did.
Author: tigerlady
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit being made from this.
Summary: Rodney's had a long, hard couple of weeks. (I realize I need a better summary than this, but I can't think of one. A little angst, a bit of schmoop, mostly the boys being themselves, I hope.)
Spoilers: SG-1 The Road Not Taken
Notes: I was bitten by a brain-eating bunny last night. I wasn't sure how to pull this off until my husband said "why? what if...", and so the thanks have to go to him. 2000 words.
"Hey honey, I'm home! You would not believe the day I've had," Rodney called, more to relieve tension than any half-crazed belief that he'd be answered. The house had been empty far too long now, and tonight, he was feeling it.
He reset the alarm on autopilot, then made a beeline for the kitchen. He frowned at the fridge; with all the excitement the last few weeks, he hadn't gotten around to finding a new housekeeper. He didn't have so much as take-out leftovers chilling out on the bare shelves.
He did, however, have beer.
The state of his cupboards wasn't much better than Old Mother Hubbard's, but he did find a box of Cocoa Puffs stuffed behind a package of stale crackers and a questionable jar of peanut butter. He briefly considered dumping both beer and puffs together in a big bowl, but even he had limits. Tofurkey, for instance.
Rodney, beer, and puffs trundled out to the living room. He kicked off his loafers and settled in on his couch in front of the TV. He really wasn't much of a television guy, especially with the state of the entertainment industry these days. But he needed to relax. A little mindless drivel would be perfect.
Rodney ran his thumb over the rubber buttons of the remote, frowning at the box of cereal in front of his view. He was never very good at lying to himself. The only reason he ever got away with it was the fact that he tended to be stupidly gullible at times.
He sighed and pushed the box out of the way. Three buttons was all it took to queue up the recording. One more push, and there she was, live and in action. Well, not live, since it was a recording, and especially since she wasn't really...
Rodney took a big gulp of his beer. Her eyes went wide on the screen as the President announced her success, and then she faked a smile that had probably fooled the entire country.
"Reliving the good old days, McKay?"
Rodney dropped his beer, sent the Cocoa Puffs flying off the coffee table, and grabbed for the remote all in one breath. Then he gasped for the next and clutched at his heart in relief when he realized John was the one hovering over his sofa, not some crazed stalker out to relieve him of his worldly goods as well as his life.
"Oh, my God! Don't do that!" He shut off the player, then scrambled to his feet, brushing at the puddle of beer on his pants.
"Sorry," John said, not sounding sorry at all. "I guess you didn't notice I was back."
"How would I notice that, with you skulking and sneaking around like a thief?" His pants were a lost cause, so he unbuckled his belt and dropped them to the floor. His boxers were damp as well, but there wasn't any way he was going to stand around with his ass hanging out in the breeze. Even in his own house.
"I wasn't hiding," John snipped. "I was in the bathroom."
"Now see, how was I supposed to know that?"
"I guess you were too intent on getting to your porn collection to see my bags in the hall."
"My porn-- What?"
John jutted his chin towards the TV screen, clearly indicating his dissatisfaction.
Rodney pulled his glasses off and scrubbed at his eyes. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was lonely. John looked like a wet dream--tie missing and the first few buttons of his shirt opened so that his chest hair peeked out, sleeves rolled up like he always wore them when he flew--except for the sour look puckering his mouth into something very unattractive.
"Okay, can we back up?" he asked. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren't coming in until tomorrow night."
John's pout dipped into a frown, the one that said he'd just been caught trying to cheat at solitaire. "They cleared me early for some reason."
"Really? That never happens. Maybe this whole presidential advisor thing has some trickle down effects. Or, ooh! Maybe some real changes are happening now. Sam said..." He stopped as the reality of the situation hit him. He pointed an accusing finger. "You were trying to surprise me!"
John crossed his arm and glared back. "And obviously, it worked."
Rodney grinned. "You missed me!"
"I missed having a good night's sleep," John muttered, but he let his arms drop.
Rodney took a step closer and poked John in the shoulder. "Yes, because you don't sleep well without me beside you."
John grabbed his finger. "Yeah, okay, I missed you. But I'm guessing you can't say the same."
"What? Of course I missed you." Rodney leaned in for a welcome home kiss, but John turned his head at the last second. Rodney's lips greeted beard instead of soft lips. "Okay, what the hell?"
"How's Major Carter doing?"
Just like that, the happy--if confused--glow that had come with John's return went dark like it had never been. Rodney turned away, but that only presented him with Sam's face frozen on screen. He picked up his pants instead and used one of the dry legs to start scrubbing at the groin-shaped patch of beer on the couch cushion. It didn't help much. The fabric had been treated, but he was familiar enough with chemistry to know that really wouldn't help. At least the guarantee meant he could get the whole thing replaced, even if it was a gigantic hassle.
"Come on, McKay. If you want to go back to her, at least have the decency to tell me up front."
"She's dead," he blurted. He wanted to un-blurt it immediately. Saying it out loud wasn't therapeutic at all. The truth was out there, and it was blunt and ugly, bald as Hammond himself.
"Rodney?" Somehow John was directly in front of him, though Rodney hadn't seen him move. Like the Prometheus had picked him up and dropped him down again three paces away. He gently tugged the pants out of Rodney's hands. "What happened?"
Rodney shook his head. "It was an explosion. Stupid, really. She should have know better than to try to capture exotic particles like that. I mean, their very existence implies unpredictability, but I guess." Rodney licked his lips. "I guess with the Ori bearing down, she thought the risk was worth it."
"Wait. The Ori are back?"
"What?" Rodney blinked John into focused. He looked confused and worried, and ready to propel Rodney out the door. As if that would help if the Ori attacked. He waved his hand in the air, trying to get them back onto the same page. "No, no. I mean the initial threat. She died three weeks ago."
John pushed him towards the couch, but Rodney resisted. The cushion was still wet, after all.
"You're not making any sense, Rodney. Sam can't be dead. She saved Earth from the Ori, remember?"
Rodney sighed. "I realize that this is very complicated, and that I'm glossing over 99% of the technical details, but try to keep up. Major Samantha Carter was performing an experiment to try to power our defenses against the Ori--at the exact same time that Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter from another universe was performing an experiment on phase shifting. Long story short, universes collided, and Colonel Carter winds up here, saves us all from the Ori, sucks me into the thick of things, and then trots on back to her own universe. Not, I might add, without a lot of effort on my part."
John stroked the tip of his index finger across Rodney's clenched fist. "And the Sam from here?" he asked quietly.
"Didn't survive the initial explosion." He swallowed hard. "I almost called her 'my Sam' just now, to try to keep them straight. But she wasn't. Not even when we were married, I don't think."
"Rodney," John said, eyes soft like they'd been after the Ellison merger had crumbled. Open and accepting like when he'd confessed that Jeannie was the one who'd broken off their relationship because Rodney sucked as a big brother. Rodney hated it when John looked at him like that, because it meant something bad. Hated it, and loved it, because John looked at him like no one ever had.
"I'm okay," he said. "It was three weeks ago. It just hit me this afternoon, though. I was trying to untangle Colonel Carter's notes--she's a terribly sloppy programmer, for all of her perfectionism with documentation--and I thought, I'll just call Sam..."
The world blurred a bit. And then he was sitting on the edge of his bed, John kneeling in front of him. John's fingers were sure as they lifted his glasses off his face, sure on the buttons of his shirt, sure as they coaxed the cloth off of Rodney's shoulders, sure as they guided him under the covers. Rodney relaxed into that surety. Relaxed more as John slipped in beside him and gathered Rodney into his arms.
"I'm sorry," John whispered. "She was a pretty amazing woman."
"You hated her," Rodney murmured back.
"Yeah, well. She hurt you." John hugged him closer. "And because... Well, you know."
"I wasn't in love with her anymore," Rodney reassured him. It was true, too. He did love her, even had a jolt of lust whenever he saw her, but that was all. Their romance was good and dead.
Like she was now.
John sighed. The breath whistled through his nose and out over Rodney's cheek, tickling and warm. "My timing really sucks, doesn't it?"
"Yes, well, at least now I know I'm not the only petty one in the relationship."
"You get a pass on that for now," John said, squeezing him tighter.
Rodney snorted. "You'll love this. Colonel Carter wants me to use my influence for the greater good. Crazy, huh?"
John shrugged, rocking Rodney as he did so. "Well, if anybody can sneak a bomb into his office, it'd be you."
"Don't joke about that!"
"Who said I was joking?"
Rodney smacked at John's wrist, but he only really got himself in the chest. "Do you have any idea who could be listening in right now?"
"Like you'd let them get away with bugging you."
"Yes, well. I can't always be paranoid enough for both of us."
John chuckled. "I have faith in your abilities."
Rodney elbowed John in the gut. John flexed his fingers in Rodney's armpit. They wriggled against each other, on the verge of a wrestling match, but Rodney wasn't in the mood. John seemed to sense that.
"I think you need to try," John said a few moments later. "Do whatever you can to get the country back on track."
"She told me I was brave," Rodney mused out loud.
"Carter did?"
He nodded. "She was lying, of course. But it was nice to hear."
John dipped his head, nuzzling under Rodney's chin before he moved up to nose at Rodney's ear. "Guess what?" he whispered. "You're brave."
"Stop it."
John smiled; Rodney could hear the slide of his lips, the way he drew in an almost-laughing breath. "Brave, and smart, and conscientious, and persuasive, oh, and did I mention sexy, and-"
"Okay, thank you. Ego stroked now."
John laughed and nipped Rodney's earlobe. His words were bullshit, but Rodney didn't mind. Somehow, the way John said them, they felt true. Rodney sighed, relaxing as John relaxed against him. They stayed like that: quiet, breath slowing, night drifting into the room.
"I'm really glad I tried to buy you out," Rodney said, the truth blurting out of him again. This truth didn't hurt, though. "Best decision I ever made."
John snorted. "I'm really glad you tried to buy me out, too."
Warm contentment filled him for several seconds, but he couldn't hold onto it longer than that. "So does that mean you'll sell now?"
"You're not getting my company, McKay."
Rodney sighed.
John rubbed his groin against Rodney's hip. "But maybe we could talk about a merger later."
Rodney rolled onto his side, finally getting that welcome home kiss he'd waited too long for.
"Wait," he said when John pulled back. "Was that only innuendo, or did you actually mean that in a business sense? Because I'm fine either way, but--"
"Go to sleep, Rodney," John said, kissing him again.
Rodney did.