Daddy's Girl ~ SGA
Title: Daddy's Girl
Author: icantfollow
Characters: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Prompt: #027 Parents
Word Count: ~3,350
Rating: PG
Summary: No women, even the newborn kind, can really resist Rodney McKay - and Meredith Sheppard is no exception.
A/N: Follows Name Game in the Superior Genetics series.
i.
Meredith falls in love with Rodney right from the beginning - unfortunately, John's not entirely sure the feeling is mutual.
'What do you mean, you don't want to hold her?' John repeats, baby clasped in his arms. He's just beginning to get the hand-behind-the-head thing down and finds himself wanting to hold her all the time. She stirs, eyes fluttering slightly, then settles back into a deep sleep. Her existence is a miracle in and of itself, but that's not the reason John stares. The girl is going to be gorgeous; lucky thing got the best of both parents. She's tiny, and perfect, and already clearly intelligent even though she's just a week old.
So he can't for the life of him understand why Rodney doesn't feel the same.
'What if I drop her?' says Rodney, backing away like Meredith might suddenly lunge for him and attach herself to his neck. At this age she's barely capable of twitching.
'Rodney, I shoot things for a living,' John tells him. 'I blow things up and I have never held a baby; if I'm not afraid, there's no reason you should be. Just think of her as a piece of Ancient tech, or something. Delicate.'
John never thought he'd be the one to school Rodney on the art of delicacy, not with those long fingers and that gentle touch, but for some reason, whenever Rodney gets near the baby, he's all thumbs.
He starts to hand Meredith off, but Rodney shakes his head and bites his lip, folding his arms across his chest.
'McKay,' John says, a warning note in his voice, 'don't be stupid. This is your daughter. You're going to have to hold her sometime.'
So he places her into Rodney's stiff, resistant arms. Meredith yawns, hands balled in tiny fists, and opens her eyes, eyes that are currently dark blue, but John suspects they'll lighten in a few months.
Even though he knows its ridiculous because she's only a week old, John swears that Meredith looks at Rodney and actually focuses her attention on him. It's like she's seeing the world for the first time.
Rodney says, 'Huh. I think she likes me.'
'Of course she likes you, idiot,' John says, wishing desperately that he had a camera. 'She's got excellent taste in men - just like me.'
ii.
They talked and they argued about it before she was born, and at one point John was so fed up with the shouting that he stormed down to the jumper bay and blew a fuse in the city, which, of course, only made Rodney angrier.
'You see? If I'm not here, who's going to fix these things?'
'Well, if you aren't here, then I won't be here,' John pointed out. 'And I won't short-circuit Atlantis. It's probably safer for everybody else if we don't stay.'
Rodney does not find that argument convincing.
For two men with communication problems, coming to a compromise isn't easy. Finally John agrees to try living on the mainland in the Athosian settlement - built-in babysitters, Rodney points out. They'll trade off; one will work in the city, the other will stay home to take care of Meredith, then after a month they'll switch. If it works, they'll make it a permanent arrangement. If it doesn't...well, John doesn't want to think about that.
The plan isn't perfect; it means a lot more time apart, for one thing, but it's the best they have that doesn't involve leaving everyone they love behind.
The decision as to who will work first is decided for them when a new lab that can be powered by naquadah generators is uncovered in the southern part of the city. According to Rodney, who makes no secret of his delight in the project, it has the potential to optimize the harddrive of the doohickey and the thingamabob - John stops listening sometime after 'naquadah' because Meredith has woken from a nap.
'So,' says Rodney, staring at the bundle in John's arms, fingers twitching at his sides. 'Um, I guess I'll see you guys later.'
John runs a hand through his hair, blinking, trying to stay awake. 'Yeah, hurry home, honey.'
Rodney smirks, and leaves, though not without one final glance over his shoulder. Almost as if she can sense that he's no longer in the room, Meredith starts to cry.
'Damn it,' John mutters, pressing her to his chest and rocking her back and forth. 'Hey, Merry Berry, I know you love him, but what's with the tears? Seriously, you're not even related.'
Rodney pokes his head back in the door. 'What did you just say?'
At the sound of his voice, Meredith's wails cut off abruptly, and Rodney looks smug. John wants to smack the smug right off his face; he hasn't been the one at home with a screaming baby for three weeks straight.
'Nothing,' John mutters. 'Ignore me, I'm just exhausted.'
'Well,' says Rodney, staring at Meredith in a way faintly disturbing to her sleep-deprived father, 'I could, uh, take her off your hands for awhile. I'm not really needed at work right now.'
The radio Rodney has configured to relay as far as the mainland squawks over their heads and calls him a liar.
'I appreciate it,' John yawns, 'I really do, but it sounds like they need you.'
Rodney leaves again, and John places Meredith in the hand-crafted cradle that was a gift from Halling, nestling her in the blue blankets they haven't gotten around to switching. She's not screaming, for which he's extremely grateful, so he settles down into a matching rocking chair and picks up War and Peace, hoping for some of the latter.
When his gurgling stomach reminds him that he hasn't eaten, he makes his way into the kitchen, and later falls asleep next to a bowl of cereal.
As soon as Meredith starts crying - she's probably hungry or needs changing - John's eyes snap open; he's beginning to suspect that someone's switched his kid with some kind of howler monkey. He's halfway to the bedroom when her cries stop. Never having been one to back away from curiosity, John ventures forward, and hears humming.
Rodney's standing over the cradle, one hand gently resting on the blue blanket, humming something that reverberates in the back of his throat, a noise that he keeps up for minutes without taking a breath. It's not music, it's just noise, but for whatever reason, it's working.
He senses John's presence and turns, hands up in defense. 'I was trying to let you sleep - I only - I mean, I didn't move her, she's perfectly all right, I just thought -'
'McKay,' John says, coming closer and wrapping his arms around Rodney because he's too tired to do anything else. 'Don't be stupid. She's your daughter, too.'
Rodney looks down at the sleeping baby, so peaceful. So rare, John thinks, because, man, has Meredith got a set of pipes on her. He lets himself relax because Rodney's home, and their daughter is theirs, and she's beautiful, and everything is good.
'Yeah, I know,' Rodney says, almost defiantly. 'But I'm not changing diapers.'
iii.
'I cannot believe you told Elizabeth and Teyla I wasn't pulling my weight,' Rodney grumbles, standing over the changing table as if staring down the Four Horsemen.
'This is not an either-or situation,' John points out, gleeful. 'I've been on diaper duty for months now, and don't think I didn't know that you bribed poor innocent Delalia into doing it for you while I was working.'
'I have changed her diapers before,' Rodney insists. 'I simply think there are better uses for my hands.' John has to agree there. 'And, besides, I'm the one who stops her from crying, remember?'
The first switch is awkward, because while Meredith clearly responds to the sound of Rodney's voice, having him around all the time is like an overdose. Plus, apparently she's gotten attached to John's smell since he finds several balled up t-shirts lining the crib the first week he's back on active duty.
They decide to switch every two months, so the turning of Meredith's world upside down isn't quite as frequent, and in the months that follow, she seems to get the hang of the routine. Rodney has the best luck quieting her down and putting her to sleep, whereas John is now the expert at getting her to eat.
Her eyes start changing colors at around five months, eventually settling into hazel like John's. Aside from the eyes and the wild hair that Rodney despairs over, by eight months she's started to look a great deal like Teyla, though Meredith's skin is a shade or two lighter.
'You know,' John says, reaching down to tickle her stomach as she coos at him, 'she could start talking any day now. Isn't that right, Merry Berry? Can you call me Daddy? Say Daddy!'
Rodney looks as if he's going to be seriously ill; for that matter, Meredith doesn't look much happier.
'Can you say "antidisestablishmentarianism"?' Rodney asks, imitating John's baby voice. 'Can you?'
'She's not even a year old, McKay,' John says, falling back onto surnames because he knows how much it bugs Rodney.
'Well, she'll never learn proper English if you keep babbling at her like that. Besides, you sound stupid.'
'You're just mad because we decided she'll call me Daddy and you still haven't picked a name, Mr. I Can't Make a Choice Unless It's To Save My Life.'
'I only agreed to let you be 'Daddy' because we both know it would have happened anyway. You have a more...dadish look about you.'
John kisses him quick. 'You'd better go, you'll be late. Merry and I are just going to sit here and butcher the English language. She'll be fine.'
'Mickey!'
They turn as one person to stare at Meredith, who's kicking her feet in the air and looking exceptionally pleased with herself - usually that means gas or another diaper change. "Mickey!" she repeats, slightly frustrated this time as if she's not getting her point across.
Rodney's jaw drops. 'Did you hear that?'
'Yeah,' says John, equally shocked. 'Have you been showing her old Disney cartoons or something?'
'What? She said my name!'
John starts to laugh, and Meredith laughs with him.
'That didn't sound anything like Rodney!'
'Not Rodney,' Rodney says, waving his hands, a gesture that Meredith follows with deep adoration; John's just waiting for the day when she starts doing it too. 'McKay! She said McKay!'
'Why would she call you McKay?'
'Oh, I don't know, maybe because you've been hollering it over her crib since she was born? Or it's the name that keeps chirping over the radio? It doesn't matter. She knows my name!'
'Rodney...' John really hates to rain on his parade, but it's pretty far-fetched.
'I'll prove it,' Rodney says because he's never met a hypothesis he didn't want to test. He starts to leave the room, and has just disappeared out of sight when Meredith screams, 'MICKEY!'
John admits defeat, and from then on in, Rodney has a shiny new nickname that he treasures more than he'll admit.
iv.
'Why won't she talk?' Rodney complains one night when they both happen to be home. John's more tired than usual, not to mention bruised and generally sore from that morning's mission, so he's only half-listening to Rodney's diatribe.
'She's almost two years old,' he continues, 'and she can do quadruple digit subtraction in her head, but she only says our names if she wants something, and the rest of the time it's all that ridiculous one-handed sign language! I will not let our daughter become a mime!'
'Relax,' John murmurs into his pillow. 'Elizabeth's assured me that children develop at different times. Besides, with you around, she probably can't get a word in edgewise.'
'Oh, ha ha.'
John can practically feel Rodney humming with concern, so he turns onto his side and does his best to be a distraction.
In the morning, he's woken by a sudden weight on his chest, and small, cold hands pressed to his face.
'Can I come to Atlantith with you, Daddy?' Meredith asks around the thumb firmly planted in her mouth, resting her free hand right on his nose.
John figures he must be dreaming, but then Rodney grunts and turns over, and John's dreams don't usually come with those kinds of sound effects. Plus, her weight is making it difficult to breathe.
'What did you say?' John asks, struggling to sit up.
'I asked if I can come to Atlantith,' she says slowly, ending in a slight hiss. She has her head pressed against him, brown curls tickling his chin, and Oh, god, thinks John, that lisp is going to drive Rodney crazy.
Then out loud he says, 'Meredith! You spoke!'
Rodney bolts upright in bed next to him. 'What? She did?'
Meredith lifts her head, eyes shining, thumb still lodged in place, and just smiles. Rodney scoops her up and plants her in front of him, waiting, like she's a trained seal or something.
'Go on,' John urges. 'Tell Mickey what you told me.'
But Meredith shakes her head and buries her face in Rodney's chest, wrapping her free arm around his neck. Rodney looks heartbroken.
'She'll talk to you but she won't talk to me? That's not fair!'
'She asked if she could come with me to Atlantis,' John tells him, and reaches out to stroke Meredith's head. 'Sorry, Merry Berry, but that's not going to work.'
'Why not?'
The question doesn't come from Meredith, as John half-expected, but from Rodney. Meredith's expression indicates she's in complete agreement with whatever he has to say.
'Uh, because she's not even two years old yet?' John says through gritted teeth, trying to avoid two piercing stares. 'It's way too dangerous. Besides, I'm on duty today, I'll be going off-world.'
'Then I'll take her,' says Rodney. 'We'll just take a look around, say hi to Teyla, and Ronon, and Uncle Radek and Aunt Elizabeth, then come home. What do you say, Minnie?'
Meredith's eyes light up, and she squeals. 'Then I'm going to Atlantith?'
Rodney's eyes widen slightly. To John, he says, 'She has a lisp? Did you have a lisp as a kid or is this something she got from Teyla? Because I can tell you right now -'
'Rodney,' John growls. 'Could I see you in the kitchen for a moment?'
Rodney takes note of the tone because he lifts Meredith off his lap and places her back on the bed, nestling her among the pillows, kissing her forehead wetly until she giggles.
'Stay here, Merry Berry,' John tells her, planting a kiss of his own. 'Mickey and I are just going to have a little talk.'
'Are you insane?' John hisses, keeping one eye on the bedroom door. Rodney heads for the fridge. 'I thought we agreed we wouldn't take her to the city until she was at least six!'
'I think you're overreacting,' Rodney replies. 'It's not like the city is always trying to kill us. She won't be out of my sight and you know everyone will want to see her. There are no potentially lethal projects at the moment, I checked with Radek, and the last Wraith sighting was well over a month ago. Lighten up, Dad.'
'Rodney -'
'Hey,' and Rodney's look softens, 'I would never let anything happen to her, you know that right?'
'Of course,' John replies. 'But it doesn't stop me from worrying.'
There's a soft noise behind them, and they turn to see Meredith standing barefoot, in the over-sized white night-dress hand-sewed for her by Teyla - and though the idea of Teyla and sewing is quite hilarious to John and Rodney, it's the only thing Meredith will sleep in.
She rubs her eyes and holds out her arms, so John picks her up and she rests her head on his shoulder.
'Atlantith?'
John sighs; he knows when he's outnumbered. 'Yeah. Mickey's going to take you to Atlantis.'
'She's finally talking,' Rodney sighs, content as Meredith scrambles over to him and covers his face in kisses, chattering at high speed about the things she'll see and the people she'll talk to and the science and the pictures and the whales....
v.
'She won't shut up,' Rodney hisses, tearing at his hair; there's precious little enough of it as is, he can't afford to lose the rest. He's so agitated, he's even letting his coffee get cold.
'You were worried she'd never start,' John reminds him, picking at the remains of his breakfast. 'What do you expect, she's two and a half.'
'How can we have a serious discussion about the Wraith when she won't stop talking?'
They look at their daughter who's still extolling the virtues of Uncle 'Rono' and his amazing knives.
Desperate for a vacation and some time alone, John and Rodney make the mistake of leaving Meredith with Ronon and Teyla for the weekend. She comes back to them full of questions about refugees, knife fighting, and, of course, the Wraith.
'It's the first time I've ever seen Ronon afraid of you,' John says, and he can't help smiling.
'Yeah, well, he deserved it. What was he thinking, telling a two year old about the Wraith?'
John shrugs. 'In this galaxy, the kids know about Wraith from birth. Some of Teyla's people even have a built in warning system. They probably thought we were crazy for not telling her. Maybe they're right.'
'No, they are not right,' Rodney snaps. 'She's a toddler. We don't need to feed her nightmares. I swear, if she wakes up in the middle of the night screaming about blood-sucking vampires, I'm dropping her in Ronon's lap. Let him deal with the repercussions of his big mouth.'
'Uh, Rodney.' John tilts his head. 'She's stopped talking.'
Meredith is staring at Rodney with the biggest eyes John's ever seen, and, of course, they're filled with tears. Rodney promptly abandons his ire, and kneels so she can crawl into his arms.
'Are you mad at me?' she whimpers, and Rodney shoots John a pained look over her shoulder.
'Of course not,' Rodney says, in that slightly frustrated, "I'm surrounded by stupid people" voice, though there's less bite than usual.
'Are you mad at Uncle Rono?'
One look from John tells Rodney that he's standing on thin ice here; he'd better watch his step.
'No,' Rodney says through gritted teeth. 'I'm annoyed.'
That's nothing new, so Meredith's whimpers get quieter.
'Come here, Merry Berry,' says John, scooping her into his arms. 'You know we'd never let anything bad happen to you, right?'
Meredith nods, thumb sneaking into her mouth. Rodney's been trying desperately to cure her of that habit, and thought he'd succeeded before the weekend away.
'Uncle Rono sayth the Wraith are bad,' she says, like she's passing on monumental information.
'They are,' John replies. 'Very bad. They want to hurt people we love, so we do our best to make sure that doesn't happen.'
'Yeah,' adds Rodney, 'we're the good guys, fighting evil.'
Meredith's brow furrows, and John adds another note to the list of 'Earth cultural experiences to expose her to'. Rodney will insist on Batman, no doubt. Sometimes, John wonders if this whole child-rearing thing wouldn't be a lot easier back on Earth.
'So, you okay?' John asks, and she nods, wriggling out of his grasp. She runs off to play in her room, and everything seems fine.
Later that night, when Rodney's putting her to bed, he calls John in.
'Meredith's drawn us a picture,' he whispers, and unveils the masterpiece.
It's John and Rodney fighting some terribly ugly space monsters that bear no real resemblance to the Wraith - and they're winning of course. The monsters are covered in red paint, and John's
ridiculously amused by his daughter's bloodthirsty art style.
'So, still mad at Ronon?' John asks.
Rodney doesn't smile though. 'I just hope we don't let her down.'
John laughs quietly and leads Rodney from the room. 'Come on, Answer Man, that'll never happen. You and I, we always save the day.'
Author: icantfollow
Characters: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Prompt: #027 Parents
Word Count: ~3,350
Rating: PG
Summary: No women, even the newborn kind, can really resist Rodney McKay - and Meredith Sheppard is no exception.
A/N: Follows Name Game in the Superior Genetics series.
i.
Meredith falls in love with Rodney right from the beginning - unfortunately, John's not entirely sure the feeling is mutual.
'What do you mean, you don't want to hold her?' John repeats, baby clasped in his arms. He's just beginning to get the hand-behind-the-head thing down and finds himself wanting to hold her all the time. She stirs, eyes fluttering slightly, then settles back into a deep sleep. Her existence is a miracle in and of itself, but that's not the reason John stares. The girl is going to be gorgeous; lucky thing got the best of both parents. She's tiny, and perfect, and already clearly intelligent even though she's just a week old.
So he can't for the life of him understand why Rodney doesn't feel the same.
'What if I drop her?' says Rodney, backing away like Meredith might suddenly lunge for him and attach herself to his neck. At this age she's barely capable of twitching.
'Rodney, I shoot things for a living,' John tells him. 'I blow things up and I have never held a baby; if I'm not afraid, there's no reason you should be. Just think of her as a piece of Ancient tech, or something. Delicate.'
John never thought he'd be the one to school Rodney on the art of delicacy, not with those long fingers and that gentle touch, but for some reason, whenever Rodney gets near the baby, he's all thumbs.
He starts to hand Meredith off, but Rodney shakes his head and bites his lip, folding his arms across his chest.
'McKay,' John says, a warning note in his voice, 'don't be stupid. This is your daughter. You're going to have to hold her sometime.'
So he places her into Rodney's stiff, resistant arms. Meredith yawns, hands balled in tiny fists, and opens her eyes, eyes that are currently dark blue, but John suspects they'll lighten in a few months.
Even though he knows its ridiculous because she's only a week old, John swears that Meredith looks at Rodney and actually focuses her attention on him. It's like she's seeing the world for the first time.
Rodney says, 'Huh. I think she likes me.'
'Of course she likes you, idiot,' John says, wishing desperately that he had a camera. 'She's got excellent taste in men - just like me.'
ii.
They talked and they argued about it before she was born, and at one point John was so fed up with the shouting that he stormed down to the jumper bay and blew a fuse in the city, which, of course, only made Rodney angrier.
'You see? If I'm not here, who's going to fix these things?'
'Well, if you aren't here, then I won't be here,' John pointed out. 'And I won't short-circuit Atlantis. It's probably safer for everybody else if we don't stay.'
Rodney does not find that argument convincing.
For two men with communication problems, coming to a compromise isn't easy. Finally John agrees to try living on the mainland in the Athosian settlement - built-in babysitters, Rodney points out. They'll trade off; one will work in the city, the other will stay home to take care of Meredith, then after a month they'll switch. If it works, they'll make it a permanent arrangement. If it doesn't...well, John doesn't want to think about that.
The plan isn't perfect; it means a lot more time apart, for one thing, but it's the best they have that doesn't involve leaving everyone they love behind.
The decision as to who will work first is decided for them when a new lab that can be powered by naquadah generators is uncovered in the southern part of the city. According to Rodney, who makes no secret of his delight in the project, it has the potential to optimize the harddrive of the doohickey and the thingamabob - John stops listening sometime after 'naquadah' because Meredith has woken from a nap.
'So,' says Rodney, staring at the bundle in John's arms, fingers twitching at his sides. 'Um, I guess I'll see you guys later.'
John runs a hand through his hair, blinking, trying to stay awake. 'Yeah, hurry home, honey.'
Rodney smirks, and leaves, though not without one final glance over his shoulder. Almost as if she can sense that he's no longer in the room, Meredith starts to cry.
'Damn it,' John mutters, pressing her to his chest and rocking her back and forth. 'Hey, Merry Berry, I know you love him, but what's with the tears? Seriously, you're not even related.'
Rodney pokes his head back in the door. 'What did you just say?'
At the sound of his voice, Meredith's wails cut off abruptly, and Rodney looks smug. John wants to smack the smug right off his face; he hasn't been the one at home with a screaming baby for three weeks straight.
'Nothing,' John mutters. 'Ignore me, I'm just exhausted.'
'Well,' says Rodney, staring at Meredith in a way faintly disturbing to her sleep-deprived father, 'I could, uh, take her off your hands for awhile. I'm not really needed at work right now.'
The radio Rodney has configured to relay as far as the mainland squawks over their heads and calls him a liar.
'I appreciate it,' John yawns, 'I really do, but it sounds like they need you.'
Rodney leaves again, and John places Meredith in the hand-crafted cradle that was a gift from Halling, nestling her in the blue blankets they haven't gotten around to switching. She's not screaming, for which he's extremely grateful, so he settles down into a matching rocking chair and picks up War and Peace, hoping for some of the latter.
When his gurgling stomach reminds him that he hasn't eaten, he makes his way into the kitchen, and later falls asleep next to a bowl of cereal.
As soon as Meredith starts crying - she's probably hungry or needs changing - John's eyes snap open; he's beginning to suspect that someone's switched his kid with some kind of howler monkey. He's halfway to the bedroom when her cries stop. Never having been one to back away from curiosity, John ventures forward, and hears humming.
Rodney's standing over the cradle, one hand gently resting on the blue blanket, humming something that reverberates in the back of his throat, a noise that he keeps up for minutes without taking a breath. It's not music, it's just noise, but for whatever reason, it's working.
He senses John's presence and turns, hands up in defense. 'I was trying to let you sleep - I only - I mean, I didn't move her, she's perfectly all right, I just thought -'
'McKay,' John says, coming closer and wrapping his arms around Rodney because he's too tired to do anything else. 'Don't be stupid. She's your daughter, too.'
Rodney looks down at the sleeping baby, so peaceful. So rare, John thinks, because, man, has Meredith got a set of pipes on her. He lets himself relax because Rodney's home, and their daughter is theirs, and she's beautiful, and everything is good.
'Yeah, I know,' Rodney says, almost defiantly. 'But I'm not changing diapers.'
iii.
'I cannot believe you told Elizabeth and Teyla I wasn't pulling my weight,' Rodney grumbles, standing over the changing table as if staring down the Four Horsemen.
'This is not an either-or situation,' John points out, gleeful. 'I've been on diaper duty for months now, and don't think I didn't know that you bribed poor innocent Delalia into doing it for you while I was working.'
'I have changed her diapers before,' Rodney insists. 'I simply think there are better uses for my hands.' John has to agree there. 'And, besides, I'm the one who stops her from crying, remember?'
The first switch is awkward, because while Meredith clearly responds to the sound of Rodney's voice, having him around all the time is like an overdose. Plus, apparently she's gotten attached to John's smell since he finds several balled up t-shirts lining the crib the first week he's back on active duty.
They decide to switch every two months, so the turning of Meredith's world upside down isn't quite as frequent, and in the months that follow, she seems to get the hang of the routine. Rodney has the best luck quieting her down and putting her to sleep, whereas John is now the expert at getting her to eat.
Her eyes start changing colors at around five months, eventually settling into hazel like John's. Aside from the eyes and the wild hair that Rodney despairs over, by eight months she's started to look a great deal like Teyla, though Meredith's skin is a shade or two lighter.
'You know,' John says, reaching down to tickle her stomach as she coos at him, 'she could start talking any day now. Isn't that right, Merry Berry? Can you call me Daddy? Say Daddy!'
Rodney looks as if he's going to be seriously ill; for that matter, Meredith doesn't look much happier.
'Can you say "antidisestablishmentarianism"?' Rodney asks, imitating John's baby voice. 'Can you?'
'She's not even a year old, McKay,' John says, falling back onto surnames because he knows how much it bugs Rodney.
'Well, she'll never learn proper English if you keep babbling at her like that. Besides, you sound stupid.'
'You're just mad because we decided she'll call me Daddy and you still haven't picked a name, Mr. I Can't Make a Choice Unless It's To Save My Life.'
'I only agreed to let you be 'Daddy' because we both know it would have happened anyway. You have a more...dadish look about you.'
John kisses him quick. 'You'd better go, you'll be late. Merry and I are just going to sit here and butcher the English language. She'll be fine.'
'Mickey!'
They turn as one person to stare at Meredith, who's kicking her feet in the air and looking exceptionally pleased with herself - usually that means gas or another diaper change. "Mickey!" she repeats, slightly frustrated this time as if she's not getting her point across.
Rodney's jaw drops. 'Did you hear that?'
'Yeah,' says John, equally shocked. 'Have you been showing her old Disney cartoons or something?'
'What? She said my name!'
John starts to laugh, and Meredith laughs with him.
'That didn't sound anything like Rodney!'
'Not Rodney,' Rodney says, waving his hands, a gesture that Meredith follows with deep adoration; John's just waiting for the day when she starts doing it too. 'McKay! She said McKay!'
'Why would she call you McKay?'
'Oh, I don't know, maybe because you've been hollering it over her crib since she was born? Or it's the name that keeps chirping over the radio? It doesn't matter. She knows my name!'
'Rodney...' John really hates to rain on his parade, but it's pretty far-fetched.
'I'll prove it,' Rodney says because he's never met a hypothesis he didn't want to test. He starts to leave the room, and has just disappeared out of sight when Meredith screams, 'MICKEY!'
John admits defeat, and from then on in, Rodney has a shiny new nickname that he treasures more than he'll admit.
iv.
'Why won't she talk?' Rodney complains one night when they both happen to be home. John's more tired than usual, not to mention bruised and generally sore from that morning's mission, so he's only half-listening to Rodney's diatribe.
'She's almost two years old,' he continues, 'and she can do quadruple digit subtraction in her head, but she only says our names if she wants something, and the rest of the time it's all that ridiculous one-handed sign language! I will not let our daughter become a mime!'
'Relax,' John murmurs into his pillow. 'Elizabeth's assured me that children develop at different times. Besides, with you around, she probably can't get a word in edgewise.'
'Oh, ha ha.'
John can practically feel Rodney humming with concern, so he turns onto his side and does his best to be a distraction.
In the morning, he's woken by a sudden weight on his chest, and small, cold hands pressed to his face.
'Can I come to Atlantith with you, Daddy?' Meredith asks around the thumb firmly planted in her mouth, resting her free hand right on his nose.
John figures he must be dreaming, but then Rodney grunts and turns over, and John's dreams don't usually come with those kinds of sound effects. Plus, her weight is making it difficult to breathe.
'What did you say?' John asks, struggling to sit up.
'I asked if I can come to Atlantith,' she says slowly, ending in a slight hiss. She has her head pressed against him, brown curls tickling his chin, and Oh, god, thinks John, that lisp is going to drive Rodney crazy.
Then out loud he says, 'Meredith! You spoke!'
Rodney bolts upright in bed next to him. 'What? She did?'
Meredith lifts her head, eyes shining, thumb still lodged in place, and just smiles. Rodney scoops her up and plants her in front of him, waiting, like she's a trained seal or something.
'Go on,' John urges. 'Tell Mickey what you told me.'
But Meredith shakes her head and buries her face in Rodney's chest, wrapping her free arm around his neck. Rodney looks heartbroken.
'She'll talk to you but she won't talk to me? That's not fair!'
'She asked if she could come with me to Atlantis,' John tells him, and reaches out to stroke Meredith's head. 'Sorry, Merry Berry, but that's not going to work.'
'Why not?'
The question doesn't come from Meredith, as John half-expected, but from Rodney. Meredith's expression indicates she's in complete agreement with whatever he has to say.
'Uh, because she's not even two years old yet?' John says through gritted teeth, trying to avoid two piercing stares. 'It's way too dangerous. Besides, I'm on duty today, I'll be going off-world.'
'Then I'll take her,' says Rodney. 'We'll just take a look around, say hi to Teyla, and Ronon, and Uncle Radek and Aunt Elizabeth, then come home. What do you say, Minnie?'
Meredith's eyes light up, and she squeals. 'Then I'm going to Atlantith?'
Rodney's eyes widen slightly. To John, he says, 'She has a lisp? Did you have a lisp as a kid or is this something she got from Teyla? Because I can tell you right now -'
'Rodney,' John growls. 'Could I see you in the kitchen for a moment?'
Rodney takes note of the tone because he lifts Meredith off his lap and places her back on the bed, nestling her among the pillows, kissing her forehead wetly until she giggles.
'Stay here, Merry Berry,' John tells her, planting a kiss of his own. 'Mickey and I are just going to have a little talk.'
'Are you insane?' John hisses, keeping one eye on the bedroom door. Rodney heads for the fridge. 'I thought we agreed we wouldn't take her to the city until she was at least six!'
'I think you're overreacting,' Rodney replies. 'It's not like the city is always trying to kill us. She won't be out of my sight and you know everyone will want to see her. There are no potentially lethal projects at the moment, I checked with Radek, and the last Wraith sighting was well over a month ago. Lighten up, Dad.'
'Rodney -'
'Hey,' and Rodney's look softens, 'I would never let anything happen to her, you know that right?'
'Of course,' John replies. 'But it doesn't stop me from worrying.'
There's a soft noise behind them, and they turn to see Meredith standing barefoot, in the over-sized white night-dress hand-sewed for her by Teyla - and though the idea of Teyla and sewing is quite hilarious to John and Rodney, it's the only thing Meredith will sleep in.
She rubs her eyes and holds out her arms, so John picks her up and she rests her head on his shoulder.
'Atlantith?'
John sighs; he knows when he's outnumbered. 'Yeah. Mickey's going to take you to Atlantis.'
'She's finally talking,' Rodney sighs, content as Meredith scrambles over to him and covers his face in kisses, chattering at high speed about the things she'll see and the people she'll talk to and the science and the pictures and the whales....
v.
'She won't shut up,' Rodney hisses, tearing at his hair; there's precious little enough of it as is, he can't afford to lose the rest. He's so agitated, he's even letting his coffee get cold.
'You were worried she'd never start,' John reminds him, picking at the remains of his breakfast. 'What do you expect, she's two and a half.'
'How can we have a serious discussion about the Wraith when she won't stop talking?'
They look at their daughter who's still extolling the virtues of Uncle 'Rono' and his amazing knives.
Desperate for a vacation and some time alone, John and Rodney make the mistake of leaving Meredith with Ronon and Teyla for the weekend. She comes back to them full of questions about refugees, knife fighting, and, of course, the Wraith.
'It's the first time I've ever seen Ronon afraid of you,' John says, and he can't help smiling.
'Yeah, well, he deserved it. What was he thinking, telling a two year old about the Wraith?'
John shrugs. 'In this galaxy, the kids know about Wraith from birth. Some of Teyla's people even have a built in warning system. They probably thought we were crazy for not telling her. Maybe they're right.'
'No, they are not right,' Rodney snaps. 'She's a toddler. We don't need to feed her nightmares. I swear, if she wakes up in the middle of the night screaming about blood-sucking vampires, I'm dropping her in Ronon's lap. Let him deal with the repercussions of his big mouth.'
'Uh, Rodney.' John tilts his head. 'She's stopped talking.'
Meredith is staring at Rodney with the biggest eyes John's ever seen, and, of course, they're filled with tears. Rodney promptly abandons his ire, and kneels so she can crawl into his arms.
'Are you mad at me?' she whimpers, and Rodney shoots John a pained look over her shoulder.
'Of course not,' Rodney says, in that slightly frustrated, "I'm surrounded by stupid people" voice, though there's less bite than usual.
'Are you mad at Uncle Rono?'
One look from John tells Rodney that he's standing on thin ice here; he'd better watch his step.
'No,' Rodney says through gritted teeth. 'I'm annoyed.'
That's nothing new, so Meredith's whimpers get quieter.
'Come here, Merry Berry,' says John, scooping her into his arms. 'You know we'd never let anything bad happen to you, right?'
Meredith nods, thumb sneaking into her mouth. Rodney's been trying desperately to cure her of that habit, and thought he'd succeeded before the weekend away.
'Uncle Rono sayth the Wraith are bad,' she says, like she's passing on monumental information.
'They are,' John replies. 'Very bad. They want to hurt people we love, so we do our best to make sure that doesn't happen.'
'Yeah,' adds Rodney, 'we're the good guys, fighting evil.'
Meredith's brow furrows, and John adds another note to the list of 'Earth cultural experiences to expose her to'. Rodney will insist on Batman, no doubt. Sometimes, John wonders if this whole child-rearing thing wouldn't be a lot easier back on Earth.
'So, you okay?' John asks, and she nods, wriggling out of his grasp. She runs off to play in her room, and everything seems fine.
Later that night, when Rodney's putting her to bed, he calls John in.
'Meredith's drawn us a picture,' he whispers, and unveils the masterpiece.
It's John and Rodney fighting some terribly ugly space monsters that bear no real resemblance to the Wraith - and they're winning of course. The monsters are covered in red paint, and John's
ridiculously amused by his daughter's bloodthirsty art style.
'So, still mad at Ronon?' John asks.
Rodney doesn't smile though. 'I just hope we don't let her down.'
John laughs quietly and leads Rodney from the room. 'Come on, Answer Man, that'll never happen. You and I, we always save the day.'