Day 6 - Early Morning (6.00) - McKay's quarters, corridors to the mess hall - Attn: Anyone
Rodney grunted in his sleep as the alarm sounded, clutching a framed picture to his chest. The alarm sounded a second as his eyes flew open.
"ATA Gene Therapy!" was his first thought as he sat up with a grin, barely realising he fell asleep fully dressed. The frame slid from his chest and he caught it before it fell to the floor. The expression on his face softened, almost turned melancholy as he brushed his fingertips over the picture that showed a tabby cat.
He wondered, if Artie, named after Arthur L. Schawlow was well. The cat had adopted him and Rodney had grown acustomed to the feline falling asleep next to him, snorring or purring softly. With a sigh he placed the frame on his nightstand and slowly got up.
Stripping off his uniform jacket he powered up his laptop to check for email and with a hint of nervousness thought of the physical Carson had scheduled.
Physicals had a tendency to make Rodney nervous. Not so much for the medical examination itself; being highly allergic he appreciated medical care. It was the being exposed part that he didn't like. He prefered being in control and not putting himself in situations that made him vulnerable. Unfortunately the postion as head scientist in the Atlantis expedition - which put him in a situation where he was able to take things in hand, be active - had this flip side that regular physicals were being required.
This one was different, though, he thought with no small amount of anticipation. Dropping his pants under the scrutinising gaze of Carson wasn't a pleasure, but this was the pre-ATA gene therapy physical, and Rodney not just wanted but craved the gene to be able to get full access to all the treasures Atlantis was still hiding from him - which he kind of took personal - because he had no means to access them himself without said gene.
Humming to himself he carelessly dropped his shirt, trousers and boxers to the ground and hurried over to the small bathroom for a quick shower. Soon he would being able to handle every bit of Ancient technology - Rodney didn't even for one second doubt that the therapy would not work. That thought was like a rush of euphoria through his system, tingling along his skin, his nerves and down to the bones. Warm water cascading down along his body, Rodney rubbed in the shower gel, firmly working his hands down along his chest. He groaned and arched his spine, throwing back his head and letting the water pour on his face. He was half hard already just from the prospect of being able to do have the ability to activate Ancient technology. Sliding one soapy hand between his legs and giving himself support with the other hand against the shower wall he gently palmed his balls, weighing his options.
He could... his hand travelled up and as if of its own accord wrapped itself around his member, playfully stroking up. He could spend some quality time and leave out breakfast. Hmm... Slowly working himself, Rodney suddenly felt his stomach rumble. No, skipping breakfast definitely was not an option. Rodney frowned, he had an inkling, somehow Carson would know what he'd done, if he did it. With a sigh he gave himself a firm, last squeeze and shifted under the shower to lave down the soap. He was so not keen on that.
Quickly finishing his shower he brushed his teeth, shaved and dressed. He snorted when he found Carson's reply to his mail.
"I'll give you wits," Rodney murmured to himself. His stomach rumbled again and he decided to reply to Carson's and the rest of the mails while having breakfast.
He grabbed his jackett, closed the laptop and put it under his arm and entered the corridors, heading for the mess hall, driven by the desire for coffee and something edible.
"ATA Gene Therapy!" was his first thought as he sat up with a grin, barely realising he fell asleep fully dressed. The frame slid from his chest and he caught it before it fell to the floor. The expression on his face softened, almost turned melancholy as he brushed his fingertips over the picture that showed a tabby cat.
He wondered, if Artie, named after Arthur L. Schawlow was well. The cat had adopted him and Rodney had grown acustomed to the feline falling asleep next to him, snorring or purring softly. With a sigh he placed the frame on his nightstand and slowly got up.
Stripping off his uniform jacket he powered up his laptop to check for email and with a hint of nervousness thought of the physical Carson had scheduled.
Physicals had a tendency to make Rodney nervous. Not so much for the medical examination itself; being highly allergic he appreciated medical care. It was the being exposed part that he didn't like. He prefered being in control and not putting himself in situations that made him vulnerable. Unfortunately the postion as head scientist in the Atlantis expedition - which put him in a situation where he was able to take things in hand, be active - had this flip side that regular physicals were being required.
This one was different, though, he thought with no small amount of anticipation. Dropping his pants under the scrutinising gaze of Carson wasn't a pleasure, but this was the pre-ATA gene therapy physical, and Rodney not just wanted but craved the gene to be able to get full access to all the treasures Atlantis was still hiding from him - which he kind of took personal - because he had no means to access them himself without said gene.
Humming to himself he carelessly dropped his shirt, trousers and boxers to the ground and hurried over to the small bathroom for a quick shower. Soon he would being able to handle every bit of Ancient technology - Rodney didn't even for one second doubt that the therapy would not work. That thought was like a rush of euphoria through his system, tingling along his skin, his nerves and down to the bones. Warm water cascading down along his body, Rodney rubbed in the shower gel, firmly working his hands down along his chest. He groaned and arched his spine, throwing back his head and letting the water pour on his face. He was half hard already just from the prospect of being able to do have the ability to activate Ancient technology. Sliding one soapy hand between his legs and giving himself support with the other hand against the shower wall he gently palmed his balls, weighing his options.
He could... his hand travelled up and as if of its own accord wrapped itself around his member, playfully stroking up. He could spend some quality time and leave out breakfast. Hmm... Slowly working himself, Rodney suddenly felt his stomach rumble. No, skipping breakfast definitely was not an option. Rodney frowned, he had an inkling, somehow Carson would know what he'd done, if he did it. With a sigh he gave himself a firm, last squeeze and shifted under the shower to lave down the soap. He was so not keen on that.
Quickly finishing his shower he brushed his teeth, shaved and dressed. He snorted when he found Carson's reply to his mail.
"I'll give you wits," Rodney murmured to himself. His stomach rumbled again and he decided to reply to Carson's and the rest of the mails while having breakfast.
He grabbed his jackett, closed the laptop and put it under his arm and entered the corridors, heading for the mess hall, driven by the desire for coffee and something edible.