Male Enhancement 6A/10 (McKay/Sheppard, PG-13)
In which John is an android and Rodney dresses him down.
( Previous parts)
~~~
Rodney woke up to Carson Beckett trying to blind him. He batted his hands away, complaining, "Hey! Are you insane?! I need those eyes to see, you quack!" At least, that was what he was trying to say. What came out was more a garbled croak that sounded like, "Heyrrrhmpflquack."
Well. The important part had made it out.
"Stop being obnoxious and tell me if your head hurts," Carson ordered, and Rodney rolled his eyes. It had turned dark while Rodney had been unconscious, and the bedroom was unlit except for the light from the hall shining through the open door. It was much easier on Rodney's eyes, but the bright penlight had made him cranky.
"Of course my head hurts," he croaked, "I- Wait, where's John?" Rodney struggled to sit up - he was in his bed? - and Carson took the opportunity to quickly check the back of Rodney's head with his cold, cold fingers. Pain bloomed sharp and bright, and Rodney hissed.
"Aye, I imagine that smarts. You've got a fine bump and a cut, but thankfully no signs of a concussion. And your friend is over there." Carson nodded toward a corner of the bedroom. Rodney turned his head. John was standing close to the wall, keeping himself frighteningly still. He was watching Rodney, his eyes dark. When their gazes met, John looked away.
Rodney fixed Carson with what he knew was an embarrassingly pleading look, and the doctor cleared his throat.
"Well, I'll be off then. Take an Advil and drink some water and you'll be right as rain. Just be careful when you shower." Carson patted his leg and rose, pocketing his pen-light and picking up his coat. "I'll just let myself out then. Call me tomorrow." He nodded at John and left, the door closing behind him. A few moments later, a car engine could be heard from outside. The sounds faded as the car drove away. The room fell silent. The only light was from the street lamps outside, falling through the blinds and painting John's motionless figure with pale stripes.
"You did good, calling Carson," Rodney said too loudly. He winced and took a breath, fingers playing with the sheets. "You, uh… you did good."
John didn't reply, staring at the ground like there was something interesting to see.
"How did you know to get him?"
"His number's in the little black book next to the phone." John's voice was utterly inflectionless. Mechanical. For one insane moment Rodney was tempted to throw the bedside lamp at him just to see if he'd react. He told himself to be calm.
"Good. That's… good." Rodney paused. Be patient, he thought. It was easier said than done. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"I hurt you."
"Yes, I know. Can you tell me why?" He knew why. It was his fault as much as John's, but John probably didn't see that.
"I wanted-" John broke off and licked his lips. "I looked up the SX-8. It's a lot better than I am. Humans always want the best thing. It's in their nature."
"And following that brilliant line of reasoning, you decided to mess with your own programming. To improve yourself for me?" Of all the stupid, stupid things to do-
"Yes." John nodded, a sharp, jerky movement that made him look like a robot imitating life. "Don't worry, the guarantee is still valid. You'll get full compensation for all the damage I did when you return me."
Rodney gritted his teeth. "We went through this already. I am not sending you back."
John didn't react at all, and Rodney's already thin patience snapped entirely.
"For God's sake, will you look at me?!" Rodney exploded. John looked up at that, his expression startled for a moment. Then his face smoothed out into blankness again, and Rodney's hand was shaking with anger as he pointed a finger at John. "I ordered you. I had you assembled," he swallowed, raised his chin, "assembled to my specifications. I chose you, and I paid for you, and I, I, I fell in love with you." His voice cracked. "I didn't mean to. Fall in love with you. I… I was afraid that, with a machine… but you're not, I realised that, and I don't understand why you…" He took a deep breath, spreading his fingers in a helpless gesture. "You keep telling me how advanced you are, how self-aware, so how can you not know what you are? You're… you're real. It doesn't matter that you were built instead of born. You're real."
"I'm not-" John started, still in that horrendously mechanical voice, and Rodney interrupted him, thoroughly fed up with John's emotionless expression, wanting his… his friend back, Jesus.
"You are!" he hissed. "You're as much of a person as anyone, and don't you dare say anything else because frankly, it's insulting. You want to improve yourself? You want to make a better man than the one I fell in love with?!"
His head hurt. His eyes hurt from the strain of trying to see John in the dim light and he closed them, taking a deep breath in the faint hope of chasing away the exhaustion he felt. He couldn't give in to it, not yet. John needed to understand how stupid he was, needed to snap out of his, his moping so he'd be the old John again, the one who was confident and dorky and had a grin that always made Rodney grin back. Rodney wanted John to pamper him and ignore his complaints and do exactly what Rodney needed, not what he asked for. He wanted… he wanted to cuddle.
Rodney huffed petulantly as the mattress dipped beside him. John's arms came up around him and he resisted for a moment, then he sighed and let his head fall against John's shoulder as he relaxed into the embrace. Tiredly, he brought his own hands up to stroke them slowly up and down John's back.
"You're okay now, aren't you?" he mumbled, belatedly concerned. He could feel John nodding and relaxed even further, snuffling as he turned his face against John's neck. His head was pounding in time with his heartbeat, and there were fuzzy little dots dancing on the inside of his eyelids. A brief moment of vertigo made him wonder if he was going to puke, then his head sank into the pillow and he lay stretched out on the bed, still holding on to John. The perfect position to sleep, and yes, that seemed like a very good idea. Rodney shifted uselessly to make sure he was in the most comfortable possible position, and John's arms tightened around him.
"Rodney," he whispered, "I love you," and, "I'm sorry," and Rodney tangled his fingers in John's hair and fell asleep.
~~~
To 6B, in which John is not a sexbot
( Previous parts)
~~~
Rodney woke up to Carson Beckett trying to blind him. He batted his hands away, complaining, "Hey! Are you insane?! I need those eyes to see, you quack!" At least, that was what he was trying to say. What came out was more a garbled croak that sounded like, "Heyrrrhmpflquack."
Well. The important part had made it out.
"Stop being obnoxious and tell me if your head hurts," Carson ordered, and Rodney rolled his eyes. It had turned dark while Rodney had been unconscious, and the bedroom was unlit except for the light from the hall shining through the open door. It was much easier on Rodney's eyes, but the bright penlight had made him cranky.
"Of course my head hurts," he croaked, "I- Wait, where's John?" Rodney struggled to sit up - he was in his bed? - and Carson took the opportunity to quickly check the back of Rodney's head with his cold, cold fingers. Pain bloomed sharp and bright, and Rodney hissed.
"Aye, I imagine that smarts. You've got a fine bump and a cut, but thankfully no signs of a concussion. And your friend is over there." Carson nodded toward a corner of the bedroom. Rodney turned his head. John was standing close to the wall, keeping himself frighteningly still. He was watching Rodney, his eyes dark. When their gazes met, John looked away.
Rodney fixed Carson with what he knew was an embarrassingly pleading look, and the doctor cleared his throat.
"Well, I'll be off then. Take an Advil and drink some water and you'll be right as rain. Just be careful when you shower." Carson patted his leg and rose, pocketing his pen-light and picking up his coat. "I'll just let myself out then. Call me tomorrow." He nodded at John and left, the door closing behind him. A few moments later, a car engine could be heard from outside. The sounds faded as the car drove away. The room fell silent. The only light was from the street lamps outside, falling through the blinds and painting John's motionless figure with pale stripes.
"You did good, calling Carson," Rodney said too loudly. He winced and took a breath, fingers playing with the sheets. "You, uh… you did good."
John didn't reply, staring at the ground like there was something interesting to see.
"How did you know to get him?"
"His number's in the little black book next to the phone." John's voice was utterly inflectionless. Mechanical. For one insane moment Rodney was tempted to throw the bedside lamp at him just to see if he'd react. He told himself to be calm.
"Good. That's… good." Rodney paused. Be patient, he thought. It was easier said than done. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"I hurt you."
"Yes, I know. Can you tell me why?" He knew why. It was his fault as much as John's, but John probably didn't see that.
"I wanted-" John broke off and licked his lips. "I looked up the SX-8. It's a lot better than I am. Humans always want the best thing. It's in their nature."
"And following that brilliant line of reasoning, you decided to mess with your own programming. To improve yourself for me?" Of all the stupid, stupid things to do-
"Yes." John nodded, a sharp, jerky movement that made him look like a robot imitating life. "Don't worry, the guarantee is still valid. You'll get full compensation for all the damage I did when you return me."
Rodney gritted his teeth. "We went through this already. I am not sending you back."
John didn't react at all, and Rodney's already thin patience snapped entirely.
"For God's sake, will you look at me?!" Rodney exploded. John looked up at that, his expression startled for a moment. Then his face smoothed out into blankness again, and Rodney's hand was shaking with anger as he pointed a finger at John. "I ordered you. I had you assembled," he swallowed, raised his chin, "assembled to my specifications. I chose you, and I paid for you, and I, I, I fell in love with you." His voice cracked. "I didn't mean to. Fall in love with you. I… I was afraid that, with a machine… but you're not, I realised that, and I don't understand why you…" He took a deep breath, spreading his fingers in a helpless gesture. "You keep telling me how advanced you are, how self-aware, so how can you not know what you are? You're… you're real. It doesn't matter that you were built instead of born. You're real."
"I'm not-" John started, still in that horrendously mechanical voice, and Rodney interrupted him, thoroughly fed up with John's emotionless expression, wanting his… his friend back, Jesus.
"You are!" he hissed. "You're as much of a person as anyone, and don't you dare say anything else because frankly, it's insulting. You want to improve yourself? You want to make a better man than the one I fell in love with?!"
His head hurt. His eyes hurt from the strain of trying to see John in the dim light and he closed them, taking a deep breath in the faint hope of chasing away the exhaustion he felt. He couldn't give in to it, not yet. John needed to understand how stupid he was, needed to snap out of his, his moping so he'd be the old John again, the one who was confident and dorky and had a grin that always made Rodney grin back. Rodney wanted John to pamper him and ignore his complaints and do exactly what Rodney needed, not what he asked for. He wanted… he wanted to cuddle.
Rodney huffed petulantly as the mattress dipped beside him. John's arms came up around him and he resisted for a moment, then he sighed and let his head fall against John's shoulder as he relaxed into the embrace. Tiredly, he brought his own hands up to stroke them slowly up and down John's back.
"You're okay now, aren't you?" he mumbled, belatedly concerned. He could feel John nodding and relaxed even further, snuffling as he turned his face against John's neck. His head was pounding in time with his heartbeat, and there were fuzzy little dots dancing on the inside of his eyelids. A brief moment of vertigo made him wonder if he was going to puke, then his head sank into the pillow and he lay stretched out on the bed, still holding on to John. The perfect position to sleep, and yes, that seemed like a very good idea. Rodney shifted uselessly to make sure he was in the most comfortable possible position, and John's arms tightened around him.
"Rodney," he whispered, "I love you," and, "I'm sorry," and Rodney tangled his fingers in John's hair and fell asleep.
~~~
To 6B, in which John is not a sexbot