Fic: SGA: Better, m/s,
Title: Better
Series: Stargate:Atlantis
Pairing: McShep
Rating: For all audiences (G)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Author's note: A wee bit of fluff for a Tuesday afternoon. Very domestic, sweet stuff. Assume that there's been a lift on bringing pets to Pegasus, or that they've found pets close enough to cats that it makes no difference. And...oh never mind, just enjoy. ::wavy hands of "it just is":
Unbeta'd
~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been the most dreadful Tuesday in the history of Tuesdays. True, the world did not almost end, (those sorts of emergencies usually happened on Fridays or whenever he and John had a few days off) he had not accidentally ripped a hole in subspace, he had not had an anaphylactic reaction to anything, no one died and no one had been captured, not even a little.
Still.
Every single one of his minions seemed to have some sort of crisis; explosions, tears, hair-pulling and accusations so ridiculous it gave Rodney a special sort of headache right behind his left eye. Kavenaugh had given him headaches like that and Rodney wondered if there was a way he could get a stupidity-induced tumor.
Worst of all, they’d run out of coffee and he’d accidentally sat on his lunch. He hadn’t accomplished a single thing. Even Radek had been in a bad mood, but that could possibly be on account of his singed hair.
And he hadn’t seen John since he left for his run this morning.
When he trudged through the door of their quarters, John was stretched out on the couch reading a magazine and petting Occam, who was snoozing on John’s stomach. He seemed completely unconcerned that June was draped over his head like a living ear-flap hat.
June looked up and squeaked a greeting. John peered over his magazine and smiled at him, looking completely ridiculous and beautiful from under ten pounds of cat haberdashery. Occam snored softly and spread his toes in his sleep.
“Hey,” John said, sounding pleased. “you’re home.” He ooched over so Rodney could sit down.
“Yeah.”
“Bad day?”
Rodney leaned forward, carefully maneuvering through the menagerie and kissed John softly. “Better now. Trite, but true.”
John shrugged, hummed and tilted his chin, angling for another kiss.
“You know you have a cat on your head, right?”
John looked at him.
“Right,” Rodney murmured, as he closed in on John’s lips. Their fingers tangled together over Occam’s back.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Series: Stargate:Atlantis
Pairing: McShep
Rating: For all audiences (G)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Author's note: A wee bit of fluff for a Tuesday afternoon. Very domestic, sweet stuff. Assume that there's been a lift on bringing pets to Pegasus, or that they've found pets close enough to cats that it makes no difference. And...oh never mind, just enjoy. ::wavy hands of "it just is":
Unbeta'd
~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been the most dreadful Tuesday in the history of Tuesdays. True, the world did not almost end, (those sorts of emergencies usually happened on Fridays or whenever he and John had a few days off) he had not accidentally ripped a hole in subspace, he had not had an anaphylactic reaction to anything, no one died and no one had been captured, not even a little.
Still.
Every single one of his minions seemed to have some sort of crisis; explosions, tears, hair-pulling and accusations so ridiculous it gave Rodney a special sort of headache right behind his left eye. Kavenaugh had given him headaches like that and Rodney wondered if there was a way he could get a stupidity-induced tumor.
Worst of all, they’d run out of coffee and he’d accidentally sat on his lunch. He hadn’t accomplished a single thing. Even Radek had been in a bad mood, but that could possibly be on account of his singed hair.
And he hadn’t seen John since he left for his run this morning.
When he trudged through the door of their quarters, John was stretched out on the couch reading a magazine and petting Occam, who was snoozing on John’s stomach. He seemed completely unconcerned that June was draped over his head like a living ear-flap hat.
June looked up and squeaked a greeting. John peered over his magazine and smiled at him, looking completely ridiculous and beautiful from under ten pounds of cat haberdashery. Occam snored softly and spread his toes in his sleep.
“Hey,” John said, sounding pleased. “you’re home.” He ooched over so Rodney could sit down.
“Yeah.”
“Bad day?”
Rodney leaned forward, carefully maneuvering through the menagerie and kissed John softly. “Better now. Trite, but true.”
John shrugged, hummed and tilted his chin, angling for another kiss.
“You know you have a cat on your head, right?”
John looked at him.
“Right,” Rodney murmured, as he closed in on John’s lips. Their fingers tangled together over Occam’s back.
~*~*~*~*~*~