SGA: Don't Tell (pre-slash)
Title: Don't Tell
Author: mad_maudlin
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John, Rodney, OCs
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: John does Rodney a favor. And then some.
A/N: Written as comment fic for icarusancalion, when she got her wisdom teeth out. Which was, um, a while ago. Oops.
John was used to members of his team going down to emergencies, combat-related injuries, weird technology accidents and the like. Down time that they could actually foresee and plan for, though, that was kind of new.
"You sure you don't mind?" Rodney asked, again. He was starting to get the googly eyes again.
"Rodney. No. It's fine." John nodded at one of his men who happened to walk by. "I got mine out when I was seventeen. I know it makes you loopy."
"It's just," Rodney said, and uhuh, his hands were fisted in his pockets, that was bad. "It's just that I have a, a tendency, you know, with anasthetics and stuff. A history of reactions. When I was in undegrad I was in a car accident and the stuff they gave me for the whiplash made me hallucinate."
"Really?" John asked. He'd heard about the arrow removal incident from, oh, everyone in the city, but he'd just blame Carson's itchy injecting finger. "What'd you see?"
"Batman," Rodney said anxiously. "He helped me write a term paper."
John managed not to so much as smirk at that, because he knew that would only set Rodney off worse. "When I had my wisdom teeth out I just watched cartoons for a week. You'll be fine."
"Yeah. Well. Assuming the fetishist holding the drill doesn't puncture an artery."
The fetishist was Dr. Cerny, the city dentist and known co-conspirator of Zelenka, but a couple hours later he told John the whole thing went fine. "Both teeth we removed," he said, smiling somewhere under his bushy beard. "All very good. He is waking up from anasthetic now."
"You didn't give him a local?" John asked.
Cerny hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Well, tooth was at odd angle, very tricky extraction, and patient...ah..."
"Patient being Rodney," John supplied.
"Yes, yes...full anasthetic was better."
Rodney was stirring in the chair when John went in, and the nurse Cerny borrowed for these sorts of procedures was attaching some folded papers to a prescription bottle with a rubber band. "Post-operative care," she said. "They're not usually in any shape to pay attention after the procedure."
"Uuuuhhhhng..." Rodney blinked lazily and moved his mouth around for a few minutes; there was frizz of cotton packing sticking to his lower lip. Eventually, he said something that, on careful analysis, was probably "Colonel."
"Right here, buddy," John said.
Rodney looked up at him urgently with pupils the size of quarters. "Did you escape?" he slurred.
Ah, hell. The nurse, with slightly widened eyes, left the pills on the instrument tray and made herself scarce. "Yeah, Rodney," John said, counting on McKay to be too stoned to remember this later. "They never saw it coming."
"Okay. Good." Rodney made moves to try to stand, and John was ready when he tilted. "Ooooh no. No no no. I think they drugged me, Colonel."
"Bastards," John said. "We'll get 'em back for it."
"Okay. Thank you." Rodney frowned. "My tongue feels all weird. Does your tongue feel weird?"
"Sure it does." John tried to pull him upright. "Better sleep this one off and make the report in the morning, huh?"
Rodney may have actively refused to learn anything about hand-to-hand combat, but he had a knack for making his body heavy and limp, all the more difficult to be dragged away by those with hostile intentions. Or John. "Your tongue doesn't look weird," Rodney announced.
"You can't see my tongue, Rodney."
"Lemme look."
"McKay--"
Rodney grabbed John's shoulder and pulled himself upright, with his face right in John's face, and it was only at this range that John could see any sign of blue iris in his eyes. "Spirit of scientific inquiry," he said, or something very like it, and suddenly kissed him.
Or, well, something very like it. McKay's aim was off, more on John's chin than his lips, and the kiss was warm and dry and slightly cotton-fuzzy. John wrenched his head back, tasting some kind of topical disinfectant. "Rodney," he said, but for a moment no words came after it. "Rodney..."
"Mmm." Rodney dropped his head onto John's shoulder, digging in with his chin. "You know what would be funny right now?"
"What?" John asked warily. He wasn't certain if he was still holding Rodney upright or if they were sort of bracing each other.
"Cats," Rodney said. "If like five cats came in here right now."
And that was all it took to pull John together. He turned, so he hand his arm under Rodney's shoulder instead of wrapped around it. "C'mon, buddy," he said, wiping any trace of cotton off his mouth. "Let's get you to your room before you do anything you might remember."
"What? Huh?"
He barely remembered to grab the pain pills in time. Hopefully those wouldn't have quite the same effect as the anasthetic. Batman didn't sound so bad, really. By the time they got back to Rodney's quarters, Rodney was walking a little straighter, and when he said, "Thanks, Colonel," the slurring was mostly due to the cotton packing in his mouth.
"Don't mention it," John said, and gave him the pills and print-outs. "Gotta take care of my team, right?"
"You won't tell anyone if I, you know, do something stupid and drug-induced, right?" Rodney asked, probably thinking of the arrow incident.
"'Course not," John said. "Don't ask, don't tell."
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
Author: mad_maudlin
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John, Rodney, OCs
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: John does Rodney a favor. And then some.
A/N: Written as comment fic for icarusancalion, when she got her wisdom teeth out. Which was, um, a while ago. Oops.
John was used to members of his team going down to emergencies, combat-related injuries, weird technology accidents and the like. Down time that they could actually foresee and plan for, though, that was kind of new.
"You sure you don't mind?" Rodney asked, again. He was starting to get the googly eyes again.
"Rodney. No. It's fine." John nodded at one of his men who happened to walk by. "I got mine out when I was seventeen. I know it makes you loopy."
"It's just," Rodney said, and uhuh, his hands were fisted in his pockets, that was bad. "It's just that I have a, a tendency, you know, with anasthetics and stuff. A history of reactions. When I was in undegrad I was in a car accident and the stuff they gave me for the whiplash made me hallucinate."
"Really?" John asked. He'd heard about the arrow removal incident from, oh, everyone in the city, but he'd just blame Carson's itchy injecting finger. "What'd you see?"
"Batman," Rodney said anxiously. "He helped me write a term paper."
John managed not to so much as smirk at that, because he knew that would only set Rodney off worse. "When I had my wisdom teeth out I just watched cartoons for a week. You'll be fine."
"Yeah. Well. Assuming the fetishist holding the drill doesn't puncture an artery."
The fetishist was Dr. Cerny, the city dentist and known co-conspirator of Zelenka, but a couple hours later he told John the whole thing went fine. "Both teeth we removed," he said, smiling somewhere under his bushy beard. "All very good. He is waking up from anasthetic now."
"You didn't give him a local?" John asked.
Cerny hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Well, tooth was at odd angle, very tricky extraction, and patient...ah..."
"Patient being Rodney," John supplied.
"Yes, yes...full anasthetic was better."
Rodney was stirring in the chair when John went in, and the nurse Cerny borrowed for these sorts of procedures was attaching some folded papers to a prescription bottle with a rubber band. "Post-operative care," she said. "They're not usually in any shape to pay attention after the procedure."
"Uuuuhhhhng..." Rodney blinked lazily and moved his mouth around for a few minutes; there was frizz of cotton packing sticking to his lower lip. Eventually, he said something that, on careful analysis, was probably "Colonel."
"Right here, buddy," John said.
Rodney looked up at him urgently with pupils the size of quarters. "Did you escape?" he slurred.
Ah, hell. The nurse, with slightly widened eyes, left the pills on the instrument tray and made herself scarce. "Yeah, Rodney," John said, counting on McKay to be too stoned to remember this later. "They never saw it coming."
"Okay. Good." Rodney made moves to try to stand, and John was ready when he tilted. "Ooooh no. No no no. I think they drugged me, Colonel."
"Bastards," John said. "We'll get 'em back for it."
"Okay. Thank you." Rodney frowned. "My tongue feels all weird. Does your tongue feel weird?"
"Sure it does." John tried to pull him upright. "Better sleep this one off and make the report in the morning, huh?"
Rodney may have actively refused to learn anything about hand-to-hand combat, but he had a knack for making his body heavy and limp, all the more difficult to be dragged away by those with hostile intentions. Or John. "Your tongue doesn't look weird," Rodney announced.
"You can't see my tongue, Rodney."
"Lemme look."
"McKay--"
Rodney grabbed John's shoulder and pulled himself upright, with his face right in John's face, and it was only at this range that John could see any sign of blue iris in his eyes. "Spirit of scientific inquiry," he said, or something very like it, and suddenly kissed him.
Or, well, something very like it. McKay's aim was off, more on John's chin than his lips, and the kiss was warm and dry and slightly cotton-fuzzy. John wrenched his head back, tasting some kind of topical disinfectant. "Rodney," he said, but for a moment no words came after it. "Rodney..."
"Mmm." Rodney dropped his head onto John's shoulder, digging in with his chin. "You know what would be funny right now?"
"What?" John asked warily. He wasn't certain if he was still holding Rodney upright or if they were sort of bracing each other.
"Cats," Rodney said. "If like five cats came in here right now."
And that was all it took to pull John together. He turned, so he hand his arm under Rodney's shoulder instead of wrapped around it. "C'mon, buddy," he said, wiping any trace of cotton off his mouth. "Let's get you to your room before you do anything you might remember."
"What? Huh?"
He barely remembered to grab the pain pills in time. Hopefully those wouldn't have quite the same effect as the anasthetic. Batman didn't sound so bad, really. By the time they got back to Rodney's quarters, Rodney was walking a little straighter, and when he said, "Thanks, Colonel," the slurring was mostly due to the cotton packing in his mouth.
"Don't mention it," John said, and gave him the pills and print-outs. "Gotta take care of my team, right?"
"You won't tell anyone if I, you know, do something stupid and drug-induced, right?" Rodney asked, probably thinking of the arrow incident.
"'Course not," John said. "Don't ask, don't tell."
"Huh?"
"Never mind."