Fic: Dinner Party, Part 2
Title: Dinner Party: Part 2
Author: Allyndra
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John/Rodney
Warnings: Earth AU
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Does this *points to fic* look like quality SciFi Channel programming to you? I didn't think so.
Summary: In which some people come to dinner.
Author's Notes: I clearly have time management issues. Sorry this took so long to get up. Part 1 is here
Radek showed up a full half hour before the guests were scheduled to arrive. He tried to pretend he'd come to help, but Rodney spotted the Chinese takeout menu peeking out of his pocket.
"You sneaky little Czech! You came to make sure my food was good enough, didn't you?" Rodney accused, glaring at him through the open door with his arms folded over his chest. "I'll have you know I am a perfectly good cook. It's all simple chemistry, anyway."
Radek managed to look mildly apologetic. "Then you cook, and I will return for party." He turned to leave, but Rodney snagged his arm, holding him fast.
"Nope! You came to help, you get to help. You can set the table while I finish cooking," Rodney instructed. He showed Radek the dishes and flatware and left him to his work. Radek appeared in the kitchen after only a moment.
"You are brilliant scientist, yet you cannot count? Why are there seven settings?" Radek demanded.
Rodney wore an expression that Radek hadn't seen on him before, that married embarrassment and smugness with a hint of anxiety. "Listen, I invited someone else to come. I need you," he fixed Radek with a piercing stare, "not to tell him what an asshole I am."
Radek took in the entreaty in Rodney's blue eyes and the way his hand gripped his whisk too hard and nodded. "Yes, yes. I will not tell." As he made his way back to the dining room he muttered under his breath, "Although I doubt you will manage to keep it a secret long."
***
If Rodney was capable of talking to anthropologists without ranting incoherently about the absurdity of calling anthropology a science, he would have asked one if there were any cultures where baking was used as a punishment. He glared around his kitchen, his gaze sweeping over the quietly cooking dinner to land, bitter and disillusioned, on the bowls of molten chocolate and separated eggs sitting on the counter. He huffed out an angry breath and yanked open the cupboard doors, searching through them as though a set of baking ramekins might have suddenly appeared. When he emerged empty handed, Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back against the wall.
The doorbell rang, and Rodney's eyes flashed to the clock. It was still fifteen minutes before people should be showing up, and now he had both Radek and someone else here. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Rodney answered the door to find John lounging on his porch. Rodney considered it, and lounging was the only possible word to describe John's casual lean. He was wearing jeans that looked like he'd had them for years and a thin, black sweater that clung to his chest in a way that made Rodney want to stroke it. He resisted, since experience had taught him that stroking people he'd just met was a good way to get slapped.
"Oh, that is just obnoxious!" Rodney bit out.
John straightened from his lean, his expression anxious. "What? I'm not that early."
"No, no, no." Rodney flapped a hand at him. "Showing up looking that much better than your host. It's rude," he explained.
The concern on John's face melted into a grin. "You gonna invite me in?" he asked, his voice a slow drawl.
"I suppose you can come in," Rodney said reluctantly, "but don't expect me to entertain you. I'm busy having a nervous breakdown about dessert." He stepped to let John into the house and pointed at the door to the living room. "There's a small scientist running around whining about napkins, but you can ignore him. Go watch TV or whatever while I lose my mind. Of course, losing my mind will set off a catastrophic chain of event that will set the field of physics back for decades." He shrugged and shook his head.
"Or," John said, "I could help you with dessert. You know, in the name of physics."
"Well, all right," Rodney agreed ungraciously. "Come on, then." He led the way to the scene of his defeat by bakeware.
"I thought you were making the lava cake." John was following so closely Rodney could feel his heat against his back. He wanted to lean back into it, but the sight of the ingredients scattered along his countertop propelled him forward instead.
"I *was* making the lava cake," Rodney said, his hands waving angrily and mouth twisted into a dissatisfied line. "I downloaded the recipe and melted the chocolate and everything. But the inconsiderate morons who wrote the recipe assume that everyone has esoteric bakeware. I mean, what percentage of the population has ramekins sitting around."
John caught Rodney's hands and held them still, then let his hands slide up Rodney's arms to rest on his shoulders. "Calm down," he ordered. "We'll figure something out."
"If we don't, I'm blaming you," Rodney promised. "The lava cake was all your idea."
Instead of being annoyed with Rodney like a normal person, John looked vastly amused. He gave Rodney's shoulders a little squeeze. "I think I can survive the wrath of your dinner guests. Come on." He released Rodney and started rummaging through cupboards. "Hey, you have brownie mix."
***
There were an odd number of people at the table, so Rodney had to sit at the head alone. Ordinarily, he might have liked the nonverbal signal of his superiority the seating arrangement suggested, but tonight he would have preferred being squeezed in next to John on one of the long sides of the table. Instead, John somehow wound up between Miko, who could barely bring herself to look at him, and Katie, who was practically throwing herself in John's lap.
Rodney managed to ignore the significant glances Elizabeth kept shooting his way and the politely inquisitive comments David directed toward John. Finally Radek snorted and elbowed Rodney in the side.
"Pretend to have manners and introduce everyone," Radek told him. Rodney transferred his death glare from Katie to Radek, but he couldn't exactly refuse.
"John, this is Dr. Miko Kusanagi, Dr. Katie Brown, Dr. David Parrish, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, and you met Dr. Radek Zelenka earlier. Everybody, this is John Sheppard," Rodney said, pointing his fork at each person as he identified them.
John nodded politely, then gave Rodney a lazy grin. "Way to make a guy feel under-educated, Rodney."
Rodney could feel his ears going red. He hated that. "Can I help that I work with some of the least stupid people in the world?" he asked defensively. "Anyway, I'm sure you have to have more than a GED to design airplanes."
"You design airplanes?" Katie asked breathlessly. "Do you fly them yourself?"
The interrogation of John took them through the rest of the salad. Rodney only insulted his guests' intelligence a few times, and he didn't fling his croutons at Katie when she tossed her hair over her shoulder. On the whole, he thought he was a model of restraint. When he stood to gather up the salad plates and bring out the main course, John shot to his feet to help, which made Rodney go red again and serve the food sporting an absolutely repulsive smile that he couldn't seem to banish.
Until Katie looked at the plate Rodney was handing her and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have a vegetarian option? Never mind, I can just have the rice and asparagus." She tugged at the plate, but Rodney held on to it.
"You don't eat fish?" he asked flatly, his smile falling away.
"No, I don't eat any meat."
"You're a botanist. How can you eat the plants you devote your life to and not the useless animals you ignore?" Rodney demanded. John put a hand on his elbow and pulled him away, still clutching Katie's plate.
"Let's see if we can find a vegetarian entree for Katie, huh?" he suggested, towing Rodney away from the table.
In the kitchen, Rodney dropped the plate to the counter with a clatter. "Do you know what this means?" he snarled.
"Yeah, John replied, his head in the fridge, "It means my friend Becca has been playing the holier-than-thou vegetarian while scarfing down fish tacos for years. I'm gonna kill her." He emerged with a chunk of cheese. "You know how to make grilled cheese?"
"No," Rodney said. "It means you suck as a menu planner." He snatched the cheese from John and started slicing it while John heated a pan. "You're a total fraud."
"Yes, because I claimed to be an engineer only when I wasn't working my day job as a chef," John snarked, getting out a butter knife. "It'll be fine. Everybody likes grilled cheese."
"Just like everybody eats fish," Rodney grumbled, handing John the bread. Together they got the sandwich constructed and cooked in only a few minutes. The smile Katie aimed at them when they delivered it was just shy of blinding, and Rodney let himself be mollified by her thanks.
"So," David said as Rodney and John took their seats. "How did you meet Rodney, then?"
John speared a bite of salmon on his fork and grinned. "I picked him up at the supermarket," he said. Rodney's ears reached record high temperatures as the diners sent him shocked and admiring and, in Miko's case, vaguely worshipful looks. He smiled back smugly and ate his asparagus.
***
Rodney saw everyone out, accepting their thanks and compliments as his due. John was loitering around the kitchen as Rodney assured Miko that it had been nothing, really and all but shoved her out the door. He closed the door with a sigh.
"I knew there was a reason I didn't entertain," Rodney complained, making his way to the kitchen.
John smirked at him. "You had fun, admit it." He pressed a finger to the empty brownie pan and lifted it to his mouth, licking off crumbs in a way that was probably illegal in some states.
Rodney smirked back. "I admit nothing," he said. He leaned against the counter, watching John eat brownie crumbs and trying to look casual. "Do you, uh, want to watch a movie? With me? 'Cause I have a lot of movies and a bunch of TV on DVD, so I'm sure we can find something you'd like to watch unless you're one of those freaks who doesn't like popular culture -"
"Yeah, I'd like that," John interrupted.
Rodney beamed at him. "Okay, then," he said, and led the way into the living room.