Fic: Gap Filling

[mmmchelle]

Title:Gap Filling
Author: chelle
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG13
Vetted By: yin_again
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Written for the romance challenge. Set in the same universe as my other GPFG stories and Yin's "Their Debut."
Summary: When GPFG's writers can't come up with a romantic scenario for Colonel Stone and Dr. Mensa, John has a suggestion.

The title comes from Rocky of all things. I got gaps; you got gaps; we fill each other's gaps.



Scene one:

Interior: Elizabeth's office. JOHN SHEPPARD, RODNEY MCKAY, ELIZABETH WEIR, TEYLA EMMAGAN, SAM CARTER are gathered around Elizabeth's desk.

Rodney hated being called into Elizabeth's office. It was a little too much like being called in to see the principal, something with which he was intimately familiar.

"We've run into a problem we hope you can help us with," Elizabeth said, resting her hands on the desk. "You've heard about our new line of short romantic films." She paused while John and Rodney nodded.

"We wish to do one with Colonel Stone and Dr. Mensa," Teyla said. She was standing next to Elizabeth, one hand resting on the back of her chair, and Rodney wondered, not for the first time, if they were doing it. It'd be so hot if they were. "But I must confess that I am stumped. I simply cannot come up with a romantic scenario for them."

"We're hoping you can help," Sam added, unnecessarily.

Help, of course they could help. No one knew Dr. Mensa like Rodney did. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his feet out in front of him. "Waterfall. They're on some alien planet and have sex under a waterfall."

"That's not romance," John said. "It's just sex outside."

"And it's not as though waterfalls are easy to find in L.A," Sam pointed out.

"Bathtub sex," Rodney said. "Candlelight, soft music, bubbles; women love that sort of stuff."

"Kind of cliché, and where would they find a bathtub on Atlantis?"

Rodney shot John an annoyed look. "They find it in some newly explored part of the city."

"Uh-huh."

"They go back to Earth for a visit and stay in a luxury hotel suite."

"Because that won't get them caught."

"It's porn! No one's asking for verisimilitude."

"You usually do," John said.

That was… that was… kind of accurate actually. Damn, but the man could be annoying. "Fine. You come up with something."

"Actually," he said looking not at Rodney but at Elizabeth, "I have an idea."

"Let's hear it," she answered.

"I'd rather, um, write it. You know, write the script and then if you like it we can shoot it."

Elizabeth and Teyla exchanged a brief look and then Elizabeth said, "Sure. How long will you need?"

"A week? It's supposed to be short, right?"

"It is," Teyla said, smiling at John. "If you like I can go over the guidelines with you."

John nodded. "I'd like that."

Rodney stared at him. John's ears were pink. Apparently feeling Rodney's eyes on him, John glanced at him, then immediately looked away, his ears getting even brighter.

"Good," Elizabeth said, "It sounds like a plan."

Scene Two:

RODNEY MCKAY and JOHN SHEPPARD'S apartment. John and Rodney are seated on the couch.

John was typing diligently away, just as he had for the last three nights. Rodney was starting to feel abandoned. He shifted closer on the couch, and John turned the laptop so Rodney couldn't see it.

Ignoring the laptop screen, Rodney nibbled the side of John's neck.

Lifting a shoulder to push Rodney away, John said, "Cut it out."

"We haven't had sex in three days."

"You'll survive."

Rodney nibbled again, a little higher this time, targeting the spot just below John's ear. "I miss you."

"You miss getting off."

"True. But I miss getting off with you."

"I'm almost done."

Craning his neck, Rodney tried to take a surreptitious peek at the computer screen, but John put his hand in the way. "You can see it when it's done."

"Fine," Rodney huffed, moving to the far end of the couch. He could go into the bedroom, take out the toys, show himself a good time. Maybe John would decide he was more interesting than Dr. Mensa after all, especially if there was a vibrator involved. Then again, maybe he wouldn't, and Rodney didn't want to get off alone. He wanted to get off with John.

Turning so that his back was against the side of the couch, Rodney stretched out one leg in front of him, resting it behind the laptop John was once again busily typing away on Rodney's laptop, which was another reason he was bored.

Sighing, he picked up the copy of Feynman's lectures that John had given him for his birthday--Rodney suspected that John was trying to make him more like Mensa-- and started reading.

Scene Three:

Elizabeth's office. ELIZABETH WEIR, SAMANTHA CARTER, TEYLA EMMAGAN, JOHN SHEPPARD, AND RODNEY MCKAY are all sitting, a copy of John's script in their hands.

Ignoring the others, Rodney turned to the first scene. He still couldn't believe how protective John had been of this thing. It was just a script.

He skimmed the opening--gate room, wedding, blah, blah, blah--and went straight for the Stone and Mensa dialog. They were standing off to the side, watching other people dance.

Mensa: I'm going to make the microbiologists check the filtration system again.

Stone: Why?

Mensa: Three weddings in six months, there has to be something in the water.

Stone: Maybe people are just feeling hopeful.

Rodney could hear exactly how John would say that line, the slight pause before hopeful, the tiny upturn in the corner of his mouth.

Mensa: Maybe. It could be nice I suppose, declaring things, having witnesses, making a commitment.

Stone(after a pause): It could.

Mensa: You think so?

Stone: Sure

Mensa: I need more wine. Want some?

Stone shakes his head.

Mensa walks over to the table serving as a bar. Stone stares after him, his expression thoughtful.

Knowing what he was going to find in the second scene, Rodney turned the page. He wasn't disappointed. Stone staged a wedding in a secluded part of Atlantis, just the two of them, but there was champagne and cake, even dancing. John always looked amazing in a tux, although Stone would wear a dress uniform.

Rodney skimmed the dialog, but his eyes somehow managed to settle on the vows. "To have and to hold, for richer, for poorer." In his head he could hear John saying them. His throat started to get tight, and Rodney swallowed.

"Well, what do you think?" John asked, his eyes on Rodney.

"It's romantic, I'll give you that, but I just don't think this is how Colonel Stone would act."

"Why not?" John asked, his tone making it clear that Rodney's explanation had better be a good one.

"He's not that open emotionally. A grand romantic gesture is out of character."

"That's why he goes for the gesture. He can't tell Dr. Mensa how he feels so he shows him."

"I like it," Elizabeth said, putting an end to the discussion. "I think we should shoot it."

Teyla and Sam were nodding their agreement. Great, that was just great. A pretend wedding with his real boyfriend, it was just what Rodney had always wanted.

Scene Four

Interior: RODNEY MCKAY and JOHN SHEPPARD'S apartment. The two men are sitting in bed. Rodney is studying the script for the next day's shoot. John is reading a book.

Sneaking yet another glance at John, Rodney sighed. John still wasn't looking at him. He'd been getting the cold shoulder ever since the meeting in Weir's office. John, being John, wouldn't even admit he was giving Rodney the cold shoulder.

Once again, it was up to Rodney to be the bigger man. Rolling onto his side, he rested a hand on John's hip. "I'm sorry I criticized your script."

"No, you're not."

"I'm sorry you're pissed."

"I'm not pissed."

"Right. So--" Rodney slid a hand along John's thigh.

John's hand curled around Rodney's wrist, stopping him from touching. "We should save it for the shoot."

"Right." Withdrawing his hand, Rodney rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't an idiot. He got that publicly criticizing your lover's first film script was probably a stupid thing to do, but John had always liked his honesty. He'd have been just as pissed if Rodney had lied and John had found out later that Rodney hadn't told him what he really thought. And John would have found out because Rodney was a good actor but a terrible liar. In the four years they'd been together, he had yet to successfully lie to John.

It was all John's fault anyway. If he hadn't insisted on unveiling the script in Elizabeth's office like that, if he'd let Rodney see it earlier, then Rodney could've expressed his views in private.

Feeling vindicated, but still unhappy, Rodney turned onto his side facing away from John and closed his eyes.

Scene Five

Interior: Atlantis set. Remote area with view of the ocean and parts of the city. Candles are lit. There are flowers in vases scattered around the room. Soft music is playing. In the back of the room, there is a futon-style mattress on the floor covered with a simple sheet and blanket, and a couple of pillows. JOHN SHEPPARD dressed in Colonel Stone's dress uniform, stands in the middle of the room looking uncomfortable and nervous.

Pulling in a deep breath, Rodney stepped forward, the door sliding obediently open in front of him. "There you are," he said, striding purposefully toward John. "What's so important that I had to leave my research on the Aurora's propulsion systems?"

"Ryan," John said.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Rodney stopped just within arms reach of John. "What?"

John looked around meaningfully and Rodney followed his gaze. "Oh," he said. "This is… nice." He looked back at John. "You dressed up."

John nodded, looking every bit as nervous as Colonel Stone no doubt was.

"Did I forget an anniversary or something?" Rodney asked although he was pretty sure Ryan could tell you to the minute how long he and Stone had been together.

John shook his head.

"Birthday? Holiday?"

John kept shaking his head. "I thought maybe we could, you know--"

Ryan didn't know, so Rodney frowned. "We could what?"

"Exchange words."

"Words?"

"Yes, words. What's wrong with words?"

"That kind of depends on what the words are now, doesn't it?" Rodney asked, the supercilious manner Ryan adopted when confronted with something he didn't understand coming remarkably easily.

"You are such an ass. And dense. A dense ass, that's what you are."

That wasn’t in the script. Rodney held up a hand. "I am not dense."

"Yes you are. Dense and self-absorbed," John added, pointing an accusing finger at Rodney.

From somewhere behind them Sam yelled, "Cut."

"Self-absorbed. You think I'm self-absorbed."

"And dense," John said. "Don’t forget dense."

Rodney hadn't forgotten dense, but before he could reply Sam stepped between them. "The crew and I are going to take fifteen. When we get back I expect to finish the shoot with no more interruptions." She gave first John and then Rodney a hard look.

Waving her away, Rodney kept his attention focused on John. Dense. He wasn't dense. He'd gone to Yale, for fuck's sake, and he was an astute observer of the human condition, an artist. An ACTOR. Just because he didn't think Colonel Stone would go in for some big gesture, any more than John would--

"Oh my God," Rodney said, eyes widening in shock. "You're proposing to me. The script." He waved his arms at the room around them. "This whole thing, it's a proposal."

"Now, he gets it," John said. He was still glaring.

"Maybe if you hadn't shown it to me in front of our employers, I might've gotten it sooner."

"I doubt it," John said.

Rodney ignored the words, focusing instead on the man, the incredible, infuriating, inscrutable-- "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll marry you. Assuming you don’t mind that I'm dense and self-absorbed," Rodney said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"I knew that already and I asked you anyway." John's scowl was slowly edging into a smile, a really big smile.

"And I am not dense because I said yes." Rodney was smiling himself now. Dark blue wasn't really John's color, but Rodney still couldn't take his eyes off of him. John, with his skinny ass, and cold feet, and five books a week reading habit, that was who Rodney was going to spend the rest of his life annoying and being annoyed by.

John took a step forward and they were kissing. Celebratory kisses, which were one of Rodney's favorite kinds.

Things were just getting good when he heard a throat being cleared. Breaking the kiss, he turned to see Sam looking at them. "I assume this means you're ready to resume shooting."

"John asked me to marry him," Rodney said, because he had to tell someone and Sam was standing there.

"I know," she answered. "I read the script." Sometimes Rodney really didn't like her, but she simply smiled and patted his back. "Congratulations, Rodney, John." Turning away she called, "All right, everyone, let's take it from the top."

Scene Six

Interior: JOHN SHEPPARD and RODNEY MCKAY'S bedroom. The two men are lying together, naked, clearly post-coital.

Turning his head, Rodney kissed the spot just above John's nipple and slid his leg between John's. "We should write our own vows."

"No."

"Why not?" Rolling onto his stomach and half onto John, Rodney rested his chin on John's chest and looked at his face. "You're a writer now. Film credit and everything."

"The traditional vows are good enough." John stroked a lazy hand through Rodney's hair. "You'd just say something ludicrous about how fond you are of my cock."

"I am rather fond of it."

"I know you are."

"But it's not the only thing I like."

"No, Rodney."

Fine. He was willing to give in on writing their own vows, since he hadn't really wanted to do it in the first place. He'd just wanted to make John do it. "Do I have to promise the whole sickness and health thing? Because you whine when you're sick."

"Yes, you do, and no, I don't."

Rodney considered arguing, but there wasn't really much point since he knew John would win. Instead, he kissed John's chest again, and turned his head, resting his cheek on warm skin. John stroked the back of Rodney's neck with his fingertips. "We're taking a honeymoon somewhere fun."

"Yup."

"And we're going to have sex every night and at least once during the day. You owe me after almost an entire week of celibacy."

"Sure."

There was more Rodney wanted to say, but John's fingers were so damn soothing. He closed his eyes. They could argue about honeymoon spots in the morning.