TEAM ROMANCE, Fool's Gold, "The Language of Candy"
Title: The Language of Candy
Author: lillian78 ( interview)
Team: Romance
Prompt: Fool’s Gold
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Warnings: Schmoop. I’m bathing in it.
Summary: Rodney believes that attaining a Nobel Prize is the most important thing in the world to him but, as usual, he’s wrong.
Notes: Tremendous thanks to the lovely lillian13 who gave so unselfishly of her time to beta this. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the Prompt and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
Sheppard walked into the meeting room and dropped into his favorite chair, located directly next to Atlantis’ Chief Scientist, acknowledging the rest of his team with a lazy grin. Rodney was babbling away a mile a minute to Zelenka about today’s agenda. Rodney had called this add-on to their regularly scheduled meetings because he had an “invaluable” piece of scientific information to impart. Which could be anything from an imminent Wraith invasion to a shocking lack of Crackerjacks in the latest Daedalus supply run.
Elizabeth was uncharacteristically late. Ronon and Teyla were carrying on their own conversation in low voices. Bored, Sheppard turned in his chair to surreptitiously watch the argument that was currently developing between Atlantis’ two top scientists.
Sheppard, with more than three years of handy McKay wrangling behind him, was aware that Rodney had some very clear ‘tells’ that he automatically monitored for the safety and well-being of both his team specifically and Atlantis in general. Failure to do so could, potentially, lead Rodney to stray and commit errors in judgment such as partial obliteration of random solar systems. Rodney’s chair squeaked in time with his agitated movements as he began to work through his repertoire, putting John on high alert that something was in the offing that possibly represented, at best, some cool new find or, at worst, some very, very deadly plaything left over by the Ancients.
It began at stage one: babbling, a.k.a. status normal. An almost soothing state for anyone who had been around McKay for any length of time. With time, it became white noise that you acclimated to--or you found yourself rapidly seeking a transfer back to Earth. But Rodney had already leapfrogged to stage two with Radek: sarcastic rejoinder. This was primarily used as an attention getting device to allow the listener time to realize that Rodney’s thoughts on whatever subject he was expounding upon were of paramount importance, thus, you were a complete moron if you didn’t acknowledge his brilliance.
John, who only been half-listening to the discussion up until that point, (about something that needed attention now, now, now), straightened up out of his perpetual slouch when Rodney’s hands started to flap in an agitated manner. Silence fell between Ronon and Teyla as they turned to watch the scientist’s debate escalate. Stage three: hand flapping, was serious territory indeed and each team member fixed their attention upon the scientist. The last time stage three had been exhibited was when the team had been temporarily stranded on MXI276 and had ended up battling the Pegasus version of mosquitoes which, with the team’s typical luck, turned out to be the size of crows. “Jesus! Is everything in this galaxy out to drain us into withered dried out husks?” Rodney had screamed as they had raced back to the Jumper. John had just shuddered and had tried to erase the memory from his mind of the agitated sound of buzzing that ranked high in sounds he never wanted to hear again.
“Of course, of course, but don’t you see what an opportunity this is?” Rodney replied in a feverish manner.
“Not opportunity for me, is dangerous off world. I prefer here,” Radek said stubbornly, pushing his glasses up his nose a bit.
“What’s this about Radek going off world?” John asked suspiciously.
At that moment, Elizabeth made her entrance with a sheaf of papers under her arm.
“Elizabeth!” Rodney said. “Have you had a chance to review my proposal?” he asked.
She sat down at the head of the table with a sigh. “Yes, Rodney, but I have some reservations I’d like to discuss with you and the team,” she said gently.
John developed a cold cramp in his gut. This wasn’t good news.
Elizabeth pointed to Rodney. “If you would bring the rest of the team up to speed, please?” she said.
Rodney huffed an irritated breath. “I have the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said to the group. “The Asgard are set to release even more of their technology to us and I’ve been asked to act as their go-between since I am the only one who will be able to comprehend and integrate the new systems into our ships.”
“Samantha Carter could do this too,” Radek muttered.
Rodney turned bright red. John thought his blood pressure had just lurched from zero to sixty “Colonel Carter is occupied with the Ori at the moment and I’m available.”
“Available for what, McKay?” John asked carefully.
Rodney sniffed. “To go back to Earth to study the pretty new technology the Asgard are handing over. The SGC wants me to take a sabbatical from Atlantis in order to help bring the new systems on line,” Rodney replied.
“How long?” John asked warily.
Ronon shifted in his seat and Teyla looked-well, Teyla-like, serene, yet not uninterested in what was happening.
Rodney looked a bit twitchy but didn’t answer.
“At least three months,” Zelenka blurted out.
Rodney’s body jerked as if shot.
“No,” John said flatly.
Rodney quickly recovered his poise.
“I’m afraid that decision isn’t yours, Colonel,” Rodney snarked.
John’s mouth flattened out. “Forget it. We need you here in case of trouble! Let the SGC find someone else for the job.”
Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “This is an incredible honor I’ve been offered,” he said, his voice rising and squeaking on the last word.
“And Atlantis isn’t enough of honor for you, the last outpost of the Ancients?” John said, smashing the verbal volley right back at him.
“I’ll only be a gate trip away,” Rodney said with a dismissive wave. “Radek can fill in for me”
Zelenka was shaking his head in dismay, obviously ill at ease at the prospect of giving up the relative peace and quiet of his laboratory niche for experiences like that of late, unlamented “Planet of the Mosquitoes”.
Sheppard felt a bit panicked. He was losing his cool. He never lost his cool. Not when the Wraith had laid siege to the city, nor when the Genii invaded its halls, not even when the Ancients had temporarily reclaimed Atlantis and had kicked them all out like so many homeless squatters.
Rodney’s face started to turn beet red. “This is my chance to secure my place for posterity in the scientific community” Copernicus, Darwin, Einstein, Galileo…”
“...Meredith?” John quipped.
Teyla chose that moment to quietly intervene.
“You would indeed be sorely missed if you were no longer a part of our team,” she said, looking Rodney in the eyes.
Rodney’s expression softened, “I’m not leaving Atlantis forever, God. I’ll be back,” he said as his shoulders slumped, letting some of the tension leak out of them.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I’ve asked Rodney to give this proposal some more thought, he has promised to consider it carefully and if he still feels the same way in a week--well then, we’ll wish him the best and await his return,” Elizabeth said calmly.
Sheppard relaxed back into his chair. He could do this. All he had to do was to make Rodney remember what his priorities were. He’d always been able to manage the irascible scientist in the past. The team needed him so Rodney couldn’t just walk away from him…them, them, he amended hastily in his head.
“If that’s all, I’m sure we all have things to do,” Elizabeth said rising from her chair.
As the meeting broke up, Ronon, who had nothing to say during the meeting, turned and raised an eyebrow in Sheppard’s direction. John gave back his best patented “I’ve got this one,” smirk used only on mosquito planets, Wraith hive ships, or McKay kidnappings (depending upon what the diabolical fates controlling their destiny in the Pegasus Galaxy managed to throw at them). His smirk disappeared as he was forced to listen to the departing McKay’s chorus of “Nobel Prize, Nobel Prize,” in a sing-song voice as he departed for his workday.
Day One
McKay shuffled into his lab rubbing irritably at his bloodshot eyes with one hand while clutching his second cup of coffee of the day (with extra cream and sugar thank you) in the other. Whoever invented mornings was a cruel and despicable sociopath. Rodney was definitely not a morning person as witnessed by Zelenka easing his way to another table clear across the room. Only the soft clacking of computer keys could be heard.
He put down his coffee and flipped open his laptop.
Sitting down he turned his system on and proceeded to remove the various sticky notes left over from yesterday’s work when he noticed an aberration-a bag of candy sitting nearest the largest sticky note. He picked it up and his eyes widened. Hopjes Coffee Candy. He clasped the candy to his manly chest like a jealous lover. “Who left these here?” he asked, waving the package at Zelenka.
Zelenka said nothing.
“You?” he asked. Zelenka snorted. “Miko?” he persisted. A cough came in reply. Turning the bag over in his hands in glee Rodney cudgeled his brain for the possible supplier of such sweet, sweet goodness. He raised a triumphant finger. “Katie! I knew I’d win her over. Poor girl’s probably devastated at the thought of all those months without me,” he said. Then used his teeth to rip the bag open.
Zelenka’s head dropped to his desk with a thud.
Day Two
Rodney was running late the next day but managed to grab some food before the kitchen closed for the afternoon. He found Teyla and Sheppard still lingering in conversation in the mess hall at the team’s usual table. Rodney went to swing his leg over the bench trying to set his tray down at the same time only to halt midway through the process. A small box of maple sugar candy in the shape of autumn leaves sat on the table. McKay shoved his tray onto the table and pounced on the package.
“McKay, you’ll ruin your lunch,” Sheppard said with a smile behind the Athosian tea he was drinking. Teyla just smiled indulgently.
Rodney was too busy tearing open the box and crooning over his new find to listen. “Maple sugar candy,” he moaned as he stuffed the first piece into his mouth. He looked blissful. “This so, so proves my point.”
“What point?” John asked.
McKay groaned and swallowed while looking around the hall. “I guess she’s too shy to take credit,” he mumbled around the ultimate peak of sugary goodness that was maple candy.
“Who is too shy?” John questioned, slowing the approach of his Athosian tea to his mouth.
“Katie Brown of course,” said Rodney. “It’s obvious she has a serious, serious crush on me. First the coffee candy and now this homage to my Canadian roots.” He proceeded to gobble up the rest of the candy.
Teyla snorted.
Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “Is there some kind of unknown, yet terrifying, allergen lurking around you people? Everywhere I go it seems to be nasal discharge time.” He leaned back into his chair in an attempt to ward off any untoward airborne viruses. “Your germs could derail my quest for the Nobel Prize if I end up in Quarantine instead of leaving on time.”
Sheppard stood up with a jerk.
“John, you have not finished your tea,” Teyla pointed out.
“I’ve finished,” John said glaring at Rodney.
As the Colonel walked away Rodney muttered, “What crawled up his ass today?”
Day Three
Rodney walked into the regularly scheduled team meeting, laptop firmly tucked under his arm in time to find his next surprise, placed on the conference table at his usual seat. “Wax lips! I haven’t seen these since I was a kid,” he said in a wondering tone.
“Something good there McKay?” He glanced towards the conference room door where Sheppard was lounging with his arms crossed against his chest and his most charming smile evident.
A slightly guilty look passed across Rodney’s face. “I’m going to have to end this, it’s just not fair,” he said.
“End it?” Sheppard said, smile dropping from his face.
“Katie will just have to buck up and wait until I come back,” he said gazing down sadly at the pink wax lips missing the scowl on John’s face.
Day Four
The outline of a pink handprint marked the side of Rodney’s face as he walked into the lab.
“Late,” Zelenka clucked under his breath not really looking up from the figures he was working on.
“It wasn’t her,” McKay said dazedly.
“Who?” Finally Zelenka looked up from his calculations on waste recycling.
“I said she’d have to wait for me what with the work being so important and, and, she slapped me!” Rodney said in a daze.
“Of course is not her,” Zelenka replied.
“Then who?” said Rodney, tilting his chin up. “I think I deserve to know before I go back to Earth.”
“Eat your candy,” Zelenka said waving tiredly at McKay’s work station.
He looked down and sure enough a Sugar Daddy sat propped on his keyboard. He stared at the candy. “I am being seduced right?” McKay said tentatively as he picked it up.
Zelenka snorted.
“Cut that out!” Rodney said, slamming it down hard on the table. “I can’t deal with all this right now,” he growled, jerking open his desk drawer and shoving the candy out of sight.
Day Five
“McKay,” he heard behind him.
Rodney was tired. He hadn’t slept much the night before, letting the mysterious candy siege replay itself over and over in his mind. ‘Who had sent it? Was someone playing an elaborate joke on him?’
Nothing made Rodney crankier than thoughts that wouldn’t follow logically. “What is it?” he asked.
“Chuck found this in the gate room this morning. It has your name on it,” Sheppard said casually, tossing a slightly bulky business sized envelope toward the scientist.
Rodney juggled the package, almost dropping it. Swearing under his breath he paused in the corridor to take a look at what was inside. Sheppard halted as well, placing his hands in his pockets, looking curiously over McKay’s shoulder.
Rodney tore the end of the envelope and out dropped a grape flavored blow-pop into his hand.
“Oh for God’s sakes!” Rodney snarled, “I don’t need this right now, I really don’t. I’m supposed to be packing up, moving on, and reaping the rewards of my unparalleled genius at keeping us all alive in both galaxies!” he exclaimed.
“Problem?” Sheppard asked.
“Yes, it’s a problem,” McKay said sullenly. “How can I leave Atlantis if I don’t know who is doing this? What if it’s a stalker?” he said, paling at the thought.
“A candy stalker?” Sheppard said disbelievingly.
“Anything’s possible in this galaxy,” Rodney replied. “What if it’s a secret Genii plot…” he shuddered.
“We’re allies now, remember?” Sheppard said.
“Says you,” Rodney retorted. “I never trust any humans who live with a permanent underground bunker mentality.”
“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t leave at all,” Sheppard said airily. “Candy stalker or not you know the team needs you.”
Rodney slumped but retained enough presence of mind to unwrap the pop and assuage his frustration by sucking on it.
Sheppard coughed and discreetly left Rodney to enjoy his booty.
Day Five
Rodney rubbed his tired eyes. It was late and he’d been at this for hours. The Daedalus supply manifest had been even longer than Rodney had anticipated. He’d been able to narrow down the search parameters but there was still a lot of ground to cover if he hoped to find his mysterious candy supplier. Something niggled at the back of his mind, demanding attention, but the thought eluded his best attempts to focus on it; he was simply to tired to process it.
He picked up his now empty coffee cup and considered whether or not it was worth making a fresh pot. No, he’d been at this too long and he needed some sleep. He still hadn’t even begun to pack his personal belongings and really needed to get a start on that first thing tomorrow.
And, to be fair, his mysterious Willie Wonka had abruptly stopped the gifts as of today. Nothing had turned up in his labs, the gate room or the mess for him throughout the balance of the day.
Stifling a stab of disappointment, Rodney switched off his laptop, got slowly out of the chair, stretching as he did, popping his spine straight once more. Ignoring his cramping muscles Rodney shuffled out the door, dousing the lights with a thought on his way back to this room.
The transporter brought him to within a block of his room and Rodney stumbled tiredly down the hall. He looked forward to crashing. He didn’t have a post-Rodney planning meeting until ten a.m., so that meant six hours of sleep to look forward to.
He didn’t turn on the lights as he entered since he knew where everything was. He pulled off his shirt, unzipped his pants and maneuvered carefully around the stacks of journals on his bedroom floor as he headed for his bed, where the lovely orthopedic mattress that he had managed to wrangle from the SGC awaited him.
His knees gently knocked into his bed and Rodney shucked off his pants and removed his socks, leaving him wearing only his boxers. He groaned and did a belly flop onto his bed. He felt before he heard the crackle-crunch of his chest hitting a box.
“Ow! What the fuck?” Rodney yelled as he willed the lights on in his room. He winced as the lights came on too brightly and he scaled them down a bit, rubbing his chest as he sat up. There, on this bed, (now sadly squashed) was a box containing seventy-two Cherry Cordials.
It was then that the heretofore elusive thought finally bounced forward to the forefront of his, not inconsiderable brain.
Day Six
John was just finishing his early morning run with Ronon, perspiration making his sweatshirt cling to his back when a startling apparition jumped in front of the two men.
“You!” bellowed Rodney, hair sticking up in various places, still unshaven and obviously overdosed on caffeine.
Sheppard stopped and Ronon used the bottom of his shirt to wipe away sweat from his face.
McKay’s finger jabbed at Sheppard’s chest. “The complete Three Stooge’s collection,” he hissed.
Ronon turned toward John with interest. “You have more Three Stooges? I like Moe,” he said.
Rodney, momentarily distracted, winced. “Of course you do. No, no there are no more Moe, Larry & Curly. It was bad ruse by a certain Lieutenant Colonel.”
“You’re forgetting Shemp,” John said.
Rodney glared and Sheppard’s mouth snapped shut.
“What’s a ruse?” Ronon asked in some confusion. He had a good handle on most English but some words still baffled him.
Rodney shook his head while waving his hands at Ronon in his universal ‘go away’ gesture. “A way to get around the stupidly inconvenient rule the SGC laid down about how much in the way of unnecessary foodstuffs were to be allowed on each run. Only two candy bars per person? That way lies madness,” he said mournfully.
Ronon shrugged and walked away to cool down.
Sheppard squirmed but began “Look McKay….”
“Was it worth it? Well HA-HA the joke's on you! I found you out didn’t I? Do you realize how much precious time I wasted on this stupid prank?”
Sheppard opened his mouth.
“That was a rhetorical question, you idiot,” Rodney said, still fuming.
“Rodney, it’s not like that,” Sheppard said uncomfortably, rubbing his hand through his spiky hair.
Rodney’s finger finally made contact with John’s chest and each word was punctuated with a jab. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? McKay finally gets his due and you can’t stand it because it’s not all about you for a change.”
Anger contorted Sheppard’s face and he shoved Rodney’s hand away. He leaned into Rodney’s face and gritted out the words. “Yeah, McKay I’m jealous, okay? You got it right--as usual. I hope you and your Nobel Prize will be very happy together,” and with that turned on his heel and stalked off down the corridor.
An unfamiliar tightness gathered in Rodney’s throat as he watched his friend turn the corner and disappear from view. An awkward feeling of shame and loss crept over McKay as he stood there. He hadn’t really believed all those things he had said to his friend. He was just angry about the deception. Why hadn’t Sheppard just come out and admitted that his team needed Rodney? Oh, wait, he thought, rolling his eyes, this was Sheppard he was talking about, who was about as articulate as a rock when it came to discussing his feelings.
A warm glow encompassed Rodney. Sheppard had cared enough to try and bribe him to stay. It wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving for Earth but Sheppard was due an apology and Rodney was man enough to admit when he was in the wrong.
Day Six (late evening)
John launched yet another paper airplane from his bed, trying to best his earlier twelve foot record. Paper planes littered the floor around his room; the sad remnants of John’s need to escape his earlier emotional humiliation with Rodney.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he said launched his last paper plane. His supply of graph paper had (finally) run out.
He had made a real hash of things with McKay with his stupid candy plan. Now Rodney thought Sheppard was trying to block him from his lifelong ambition of achieving his overdue (according to Rodney) Nobel Prize.
Sheppard knew how this worked with women. Turn on the charm, some candy, some flowers, buy her a drink and it usually worked out. The few times with men had been after a couple of beers in the back rooms or alleyways of some foreign bar. Quickly achieved and just as quickly forgotten.
But Rodney was different-well, no big surprise there. He didn’t fit in the one-off category. He was first and foremost John’s best friend on Atlantis. Maybe John had made a mistake assuming it could or should have been more but just the thought of a long-term separation from Rodney was almost physically painful to him.
John shifted on the bed, his hands behind his head. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he had made up with McKay. Looking at his watch he realized it was past midnight but, knowing Rodney's habits as well as he did, assumed he would still be working in his lab. He got up and contemplated putting his socks and boots back on. Screw it. Only his men were patrolling at this time of night. Who would care whether he was regulation or not? One way or another John was going to fix the mess he had made with McKay tonight.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rodney stared morosely at the now-empty coffee pot across from his desk. That tricky Czech Radek had hidden the balance of the decent Hawaiian beans and had left only instant in their supply cabinet to mock Rodney’s caffeine need. He shuddered with total revulsion as he looked at the jar. He would have happily introduced the creator of that particular blasphemy to the Wraith.
He looked at his watch. Oh, past midnight. He had meant to finish up earlier in time to talk to Sheppard.
The projects would have to wait a few more hours and, if he couldn’t finish, Radek would have to take over while he was away. He rubbed his face tiredly with both his hands and shut down the three laptops he had been working on. Knowing Sheppard’s sleep habits as well as his own he would be willing to bet that the Colonel was still up playing a game on his laptop or reading. Being military head of Atlantis generated just about the same amount sleepless nights as did heading the scientific team.
He got up out of his chair and, ouch, his butt and his back were sore. Too many hours crouched over his variety of projects had caused more than a few kinks to develop. Rodney fumbled for his desk drawer, opened it, and took out the last of his ibuprofen supply. He tossed them back with the last bit of cold coffee in the bottom of his cup.
The tablets lodged halfway down his throat (he hated that) just as the door to the lab whooshed open and Sheppard came in looking a bit more rumpled than usual, barefoot, but with a determined look on his face.
“McKay, we need to talk.”
“Ack, ack,” Rodney replied as he looked around the lab for some leftover coffee or water to wash down these stupid tablets. He tried to force them down using his hand to massage his throat.
“McKay, are you all right?” Sheppard asked, now sounding alarmed.
Then Rodney remembered that Miko always left some seltzer water by her table for the next workday. But before he had done much more than turn in the direction of her desk he found two rock solid arms coiled around his body and a crushing pressure brought to bear under his sternum. “What are you doing?” he squawked. The pressure eased but Sheppard didn’t remove his arms--just loosened his grip.
“I thought you were choking,” John replied into his right ear, causing the hair on Rodney’s arms to stand on end.
Rodney turned but John still hadn’t removed his arms which forced him to tilt his chin a bit to meet John’s gaze.
“Well clearly, I’m not,” he said.
“Okay,” Sheppard replied.
“You can let go now.”
“Okay.” But Sheppard didn’t release his hold on Rodney.
Rodney felt oddly comfortable and more than a little turned on. His face scrunched up painfully as the other boot (military, of course) finally dropped. “You moron! Why didn’t you say something?” he shouted, nearly deafening them both.
“I did. You don’t think I go around offering my blow pops to just anyone, do you?” he asked with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Rodney began to splutter but John cut off anything more Rodney had to say on the subject by mashing his mouth onto the scientists with more force than finesse. Rodney responded by grabbing John’s ass cheeks and squeezing hard. John grunted and the kiss went from awkward to messy and hot in seconds.
The two Marines passing by the labs assumed Dr. McKay was burning the midnight oil again but knowing his dedication to his work (and surliness if interrupted) wisely left him in peace.
Day Seven
Elizabeth walked into her office feeling rejuvenated by her early-morning workout followed by a hot shower. She felt ready to take on whatever new challenges Atlantis brought forth. Sipping her coffee she squinted at her desk. Was that a paper plane?
It was, and seemed to have some black marker scrawled on it.
She carefully laid down her hot drink and picked up the apparent note. Scrawled in shaky letters were the words I’m staying. Rodney
Elizabeth smiled ruefully and wondered if she would ever get the full story from Rodney. Probably not. But in the end what did it matter? Rodney was staying where he belonged.
She turned on her laptop and began her day.
End
**
THIS POLL IS NOW CLOSED. ANY FURTHER VOTES WILL NOT BE COUNTED.Poll Vote for this story
Author: lillian78 ( interview)
Team: Romance
Prompt: Fool’s Gold
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Warnings: Schmoop. I’m bathing in it.
Summary: Rodney believes that attaining a Nobel Prize is the most important thing in the world to him but, as usual, he’s wrong.
Notes: Tremendous thanks to the lovely lillian13 who gave so unselfishly of her time to beta this. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the Prompt and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
Sheppard walked into the meeting room and dropped into his favorite chair, located directly next to Atlantis’ Chief Scientist, acknowledging the rest of his team with a lazy grin. Rodney was babbling away a mile a minute to Zelenka about today’s agenda. Rodney had called this add-on to their regularly scheduled meetings because he had an “invaluable” piece of scientific information to impart. Which could be anything from an imminent Wraith invasion to a shocking lack of Crackerjacks in the latest Daedalus supply run.
Elizabeth was uncharacteristically late. Ronon and Teyla were carrying on their own conversation in low voices. Bored, Sheppard turned in his chair to surreptitiously watch the argument that was currently developing between Atlantis’ two top scientists.
Sheppard, with more than three years of handy McKay wrangling behind him, was aware that Rodney had some very clear ‘tells’ that he automatically monitored for the safety and well-being of both his team specifically and Atlantis in general. Failure to do so could, potentially, lead Rodney to stray and commit errors in judgment such as partial obliteration of random solar systems. Rodney’s chair squeaked in time with his agitated movements as he began to work through his repertoire, putting John on high alert that something was in the offing that possibly represented, at best, some cool new find or, at worst, some very, very deadly plaything left over by the Ancients.
It began at stage one: babbling, a.k.a. status normal. An almost soothing state for anyone who had been around McKay for any length of time. With time, it became white noise that you acclimated to--or you found yourself rapidly seeking a transfer back to Earth. But Rodney had already leapfrogged to stage two with Radek: sarcastic rejoinder. This was primarily used as an attention getting device to allow the listener time to realize that Rodney’s thoughts on whatever subject he was expounding upon were of paramount importance, thus, you were a complete moron if you didn’t acknowledge his brilliance.
John, who only been half-listening to the discussion up until that point, (about something that needed attention now, now, now), straightened up out of his perpetual slouch when Rodney’s hands started to flap in an agitated manner. Silence fell between Ronon and Teyla as they turned to watch the scientist’s debate escalate. Stage three: hand flapping, was serious territory indeed and each team member fixed their attention upon the scientist. The last time stage three had been exhibited was when the team had been temporarily stranded on MXI276 and had ended up battling the Pegasus version of mosquitoes which, with the team’s typical luck, turned out to be the size of crows. “Jesus! Is everything in this galaxy out to drain us into withered dried out husks?” Rodney had screamed as they had raced back to the Jumper. John had just shuddered and had tried to erase the memory from his mind of the agitated sound of buzzing that ranked high in sounds he never wanted to hear again.
“Of course, of course, but don’t you see what an opportunity this is?” Rodney replied in a feverish manner.
“Not opportunity for me, is dangerous off world. I prefer here,” Radek said stubbornly, pushing his glasses up his nose a bit.
“What’s this about Radek going off world?” John asked suspiciously.
At that moment, Elizabeth made her entrance with a sheaf of papers under her arm.
“Elizabeth!” Rodney said. “Have you had a chance to review my proposal?” he asked.
She sat down at the head of the table with a sigh. “Yes, Rodney, but I have some reservations I’d like to discuss with you and the team,” she said gently.
John developed a cold cramp in his gut. This wasn’t good news.
Elizabeth pointed to Rodney. “If you would bring the rest of the team up to speed, please?” she said.
Rodney huffed an irritated breath. “I have the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said to the group. “The Asgard are set to release even more of their technology to us and I’ve been asked to act as their go-between since I am the only one who will be able to comprehend and integrate the new systems into our ships.”
“Samantha Carter could do this too,” Radek muttered.
Rodney turned bright red. John thought his blood pressure had just lurched from zero to sixty “Colonel Carter is occupied with the Ori at the moment and I’m available.”
“Available for what, McKay?” John asked carefully.
Rodney sniffed. “To go back to Earth to study the pretty new technology the Asgard are handing over. The SGC wants me to take a sabbatical from Atlantis in order to help bring the new systems on line,” Rodney replied.
“How long?” John asked warily.
Ronon shifted in his seat and Teyla looked-well, Teyla-like, serene, yet not uninterested in what was happening.
Rodney looked a bit twitchy but didn’t answer.
“At least three months,” Zelenka blurted out.
Rodney’s body jerked as if shot.
“No,” John said flatly.
Rodney quickly recovered his poise.
“I’m afraid that decision isn’t yours, Colonel,” Rodney snarked.
John’s mouth flattened out. “Forget it. We need you here in case of trouble! Let the SGC find someone else for the job.”
Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “This is an incredible honor I’ve been offered,” he said, his voice rising and squeaking on the last word.
“And Atlantis isn’t enough of honor for you, the last outpost of the Ancients?” John said, smashing the verbal volley right back at him.
“I’ll only be a gate trip away,” Rodney said with a dismissive wave. “Radek can fill in for me”
Zelenka was shaking his head in dismay, obviously ill at ease at the prospect of giving up the relative peace and quiet of his laboratory niche for experiences like that of late, unlamented “Planet of the Mosquitoes”.
Sheppard felt a bit panicked. He was losing his cool. He never lost his cool. Not when the Wraith had laid siege to the city, nor when the Genii invaded its halls, not even when the Ancients had temporarily reclaimed Atlantis and had kicked them all out like so many homeless squatters.
Rodney’s face started to turn beet red. “This is my chance to secure my place for posterity in the scientific community” Copernicus, Darwin, Einstein, Galileo…”
“...Meredith?” John quipped.
Teyla chose that moment to quietly intervene.
“You would indeed be sorely missed if you were no longer a part of our team,” she said, looking Rodney in the eyes.
Rodney’s expression softened, “I’m not leaving Atlantis forever, God. I’ll be back,” he said as his shoulders slumped, letting some of the tension leak out of them.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I’ve asked Rodney to give this proposal some more thought, he has promised to consider it carefully and if he still feels the same way in a week--well then, we’ll wish him the best and await his return,” Elizabeth said calmly.
Sheppard relaxed back into his chair. He could do this. All he had to do was to make Rodney remember what his priorities were. He’d always been able to manage the irascible scientist in the past. The team needed him so Rodney couldn’t just walk away from him…them, them, he amended hastily in his head.
“If that’s all, I’m sure we all have things to do,” Elizabeth said rising from her chair.
As the meeting broke up, Ronon, who had nothing to say during the meeting, turned and raised an eyebrow in Sheppard’s direction. John gave back his best patented “I’ve got this one,” smirk used only on mosquito planets, Wraith hive ships, or McKay kidnappings (depending upon what the diabolical fates controlling their destiny in the Pegasus Galaxy managed to throw at them). His smirk disappeared as he was forced to listen to the departing McKay’s chorus of “Nobel Prize, Nobel Prize,” in a sing-song voice as he departed for his workday.
Day One
McKay shuffled into his lab rubbing irritably at his bloodshot eyes with one hand while clutching his second cup of coffee of the day (with extra cream and sugar thank you) in the other. Whoever invented mornings was a cruel and despicable sociopath. Rodney was definitely not a morning person as witnessed by Zelenka easing his way to another table clear across the room. Only the soft clacking of computer keys could be heard.
He put down his coffee and flipped open his laptop.
Sitting down he turned his system on and proceeded to remove the various sticky notes left over from yesterday’s work when he noticed an aberration-a bag of candy sitting nearest the largest sticky note. He picked it up and his eyes widened. Hopjes Coffee Candy. He clasped the candy to his manly chest like a jealous lover. “Who left these here?” he asked, waving the package at Zelenka.
Zelenka said nothing.
“You?” he asked. Zelenka snorted. “Miko?” he persisted. A cough came in reply. Turning the bag over in his hands in glee Rodney cudgeled his brain for the possible supplier of such sweet, sweet goodness. He raised a triumphant finger. “Katie! I knew I’d win her over. Poor girl’s probably devastated at the thought of all those months without me,” he said. Then used his teeth to rip the bag open.
Zelenka’s head dropped to his desk with a thud.
Day Two
Rodney was running late the next day but managed to grab some food before the kitchen closed for the afternoon. He found Teyla and Sheppard still lingering in conversation in the mess hall at the team’s usual table. Rodney went to swing his leg over the bench trying to set his tray down at the same time only to halt midway through the process. A small box of maple sugar candy in the shape of autumn leaves sat on the table. McKay shoved his tray onto the table and pounced on the package.
“McKay, you’ll ruin your lunch,” Sheppard said with a smile behind the Athosian tea he was drinking. Teyla just smiled indulgently.
Rodney was too busy tearing open the box and crooning over his new find to listen. “Maple sugar candy,” he moaned as he stuffed the first piece into his mouth. He looked blissful. “This so, so proves my point.”
“What point?” John asked.
McKay groaned and swallowed while looking around the hall. “I guess she’s too shy to take credit,” he mumbled around the ultimate peak of sugary goodness that was maple candy.
“Who is too shy?” John questioned, slowing the approach of his Athosian tea to his mouth.
“Katie Brown of course,” said Rodney. “It’s obvious she has a serious, serious crush on me. First the coffee candy and now this homage to my Canadian roots.” He proceeded to gobble up the rest of the candy.
Teyla snorted.
Rodney’s eyes narrowed. “Is there some kind of unknown, yet terrifying, allergen lurking around you people? Everywhere I go it seems to be nasal discharge time.” He leaned back into his chair in an attempt to ward off any untoward airborne viruses. “Your germs could derail my quest for the Nobel Prize if I end up in Quarantine instead of leaving on time.”
Sheppard stood up with a jerk.
“John, you have not finished your tea,” Teyla pointed out.
“I’ve finished,” John said glaring at Rodney.
As the Colonel walked away Rodney muttered, “What crawled up his ass today?”
Day Three
Rodney walked into the regularly scheduled team meeting, laptop firmly tucked under his arm in time to find his next surprise, placed on the conference table at his usual seat. “Wax lips! I haven’t seen these since I was a kid,” he said in a wondering tone.
“Something good there McKay?” He glanced towards the conference room door where Sheppard was lounging with his arms crossed against his chest and his most charming smile evident.
A slightly guilty look passed across Rodney’s face. “I’m going to have to end this, it’s just not fair,” he said.
“End it?” Sheppard said, smile dropping from his face.
“Katie will just have to buck up and wait until I come back,” he said gazing down sadly at the pink wax lips missing the scowl on John’s face.
Day Four
The outline of a pink handprint marked the side of Rodney’s face as he walked into the lab.
“Late,” Zelenka clucked under his breath not really looking up from the figures he was working on.
“It wasn’t her,” McKay said dazedly.
“Who?” Finally Zelenka looked up from his calculations on waste recycling.
“I said she’d have to wait for me what with the work being so important and, and, she slapped me!” Rodney said in a daze.
“Of course is not her,” Zelenka replied.
“Then who?” said Rodney, tilting his chin up. “I think I deserve to know before I go back to Earth.”
“Eat your candy,” Zelenka said waving tiredly at McKay’s work station.
He looked down and sure enough a Sugar Daddy sat propped on his keyboard. He stared at the candy. “I am being seduced right?” McKay said tentatively as he picked it up.
Zelenka snorted.
“Cut that out!” Rodney said, slamming it down hard on the table. “I can’t deal with all this right now,” he growled, jerking open his desk drawer and shoving the candy out of sight.
Day Five
“McKay,” he heard behind him.
Rodney was tired. He hadn’t slept much the night before, letting the mysterious candy siege replay itself over and over in his mind. ‘Who had sent it? Was someone playing an elaborate joke on him?’
Nothing made Rodney crankier than thoughts that wouldn’t follow logically. “What is it?” he asked.
“Chuck found this in the gate room this morning. It has your name on it,” Sheppard said casually, tossing a slightly bulky business sized envelope toward the scientist.
Rodney juggled the package, almost dropping it. Swearing under his breath he paused in the corridor to take a look at what was inside. Sheppard halted as well, placing his hands in his pockets, looking curiously over McKay’s shoulder.
Rodney tore the end of the envelope and out dropped a grape flavored blow-pop into his hand.
“Oh for God’s sakes!” Rodney snarled, “I don’t need this right now, I really don’t. I’m supposed to be packing up, moving on, and reaping the rewards of my unparalleled genius at keeping us all alive in both galaxies!” he exclaimed.
“Problem?” Sheppard asked.
“Yes, it’s a problem,” McKay said sullenly. “How can I leave Atlantis if I don’t know who is doing this? What if it’s a stalker?” he said, paling at the thought.
“A candy stalker?” Sheppard said disbelievingly.
“Anything’s possible in this galaxy,” Rodney replied. “What if it’s a secret Genii plot…” he shuddered.
“We’re allies now, remember?” Sheppard said.
“Says you,” Rodney retorted. “I never trust any humans who live with a permanent underground bunker mentality.”
“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t leave at all,” Sheppard said airily. “Candy stalker or not you know the team needs you.”
Rodney slumped but retained enough presence of mind to unwrap the pop and assuage his frustration by sucking on it.
Sheppard coughed and discreetly left Rodney to enjoy his booty.
Day Five
Rodney rubbed his tired eyes. It was late and he’d been at this for hours. The Daedalus supply manifest had been even longer than Rodney had anticipated. He’d been able to narrow down the search parameters but there was still a lot of ground to cover if he hoped to find his mysterious candy supplier. Something niggled at the back of his mind, demanding attention, but the thought eluded his best attempts to focus on it; he was simply to tired to process it.
He picked up his now empty coffee cup and considered whether or not it was worth making a fresh pot. No, he’d been at this too long and he needed some sleep. He still hadn’t even begun to pack his personal belongings and really needed to get a start on that first thing tomorrow.
And, to be fair, his mysterious Willie Wonka had abruptly stopped the gifts as of today. Nothing had turned up in his labs, the gate room or the mess for him throughout the balance of the day.
Stifling a stab of disappointment, Rodney switched off his laptop, got slowly out of the chair, stretching as he did, popping his spine straight once more. Ignoring his cramping muscles Rodney shuffled out the door, dousing the lights with a thought on his way back to this room.
The transporter brought him to within a block of his room and Rodney stumbled tiredly down the hall. He looked forward to crashing. He didn’t have a post-Rodney planning meeting until ten a.m., so that meant six hours of sleep to look forward to.
He didn’t turn on the lights as he entered since he knew where everything was. He pulled off his shirt, unzipped his pants and maneuvered carefully around the stacks of journals on his bedroom floor as he headed for his bed, where the lovely orthopedic mattress that he had managed to wrangle from the SGC awaited him.
His knees gently knocked into his bed and Rodney shucked off his pants and removed his socks, leaving him wearing only his boxers. He groaned and did a belly flop onto his bed. He felt before he heard the crackle-crunch of his chest hitting a box.
“Ow! What the fuck?” Rodney yelled as he willed the lights on in his room. He winced as the lights came on too brightly and he scaled them down a bit, rubbing his chest as he sat up. There, on this bed, (now sadly squashed) was a box containing seventy-two Cherry Cordials.
It was then that the heretofore elusive thought finally bounced forward to the forefront of his, not inconsiderable brain.
Day Six
John was just finishing his early morning run with Ronon, perspiration making his sweatshirt cling to his back when a startling apparition jumped in front of the two men.
“You!” bellowed Rodney, hair sticking up in various places, still unshaven and obviously overdosed on caffeine.
Sheppard stopped and Ronon used the bottom of his shirt to wipe away sweat from his face.
McKay’s finger jabbed at Sheppard’s chest. “The complete Three Stooge’s collection,” he hissed.
Ronon turned toward John with interest. “You have more Three Stooges? I like Moe,” he said.
Rodney, momentarily distracted, winced. “Of course you do. No, no there are no more Moe, Larry & Curly. It was bad ruse by a certain Lieutenant Colonel.”
“You’re forgetting Shemp,” John said.
Rodney glared and Sheppard’s mouth snapped shut.
“What’s a ruse?” Ronon asked in some confusion. He had a good handle on most English but some words still baffled him.
Rodney shook his head while waving his hands at Ronon in his universal ‘go away’ gesture. “A way to get around the stupidly inconvenient rule the SGC laid down about how much in the way of unnecessary foodstuffs were to be allowed on each run. Only two candy bars per person? That way lies madness,” he said mournfully.
Ronon shrugged and walked away to cool down.
Sheppard squirmed but began “Look McKay….”
“Was it worth it? Well HA-HA the joke's on you! I found you out didn’t I? Do you realize how much precious time I wasted on this stupid prank?”
Sheppard opened his mouth.
“That was a rhetorical question, you idiot,” Rodney said, still fuming.
“Rodney, it’s not like that,” Sheppard said uncomfortably, rubbing his hand through his spiky hair.
Rodney’s finger finally made contact with John’s chest and each word was punctuated with a jab. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? McKay finally gets his due and you can’t stand it because it’s not all about you for a change.”
Anger contorted Sheppard’s face and he shoved Rodney’s hand away. He leaned into Rodney’s face and gritted out the words. “Yeah, McKay I’m jealous, okay? You got it right--as usual. I hope you and your Nobel Prize will be very happy together,” and with that turned on his heel and stalked off down the corridor.
An unfamiliar tightness gathered in Rodney’s throat as he watched his friend turn the corner and disappear from view. An awkward feeling of shame and loss crept over McKay as he stood there. He hadn’t really believed all those things he had said to his friend. He was just angry about the deception. Why hadn’t Sheppard just come out and admitted that his team needed Rodney? Oh, wait, he thought, rolling his eyes, this was Sheppard he was talking about, who was about as articulate as a rock when it came to discussing his feelings.
A warm glow encompassed Rodney. Sheppard had cared enough to try and bribe him to stay. It wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving for Earth but Sheppard was due an apology and Rodney was man enough to admit when he was in the wrong.
Day Six (late evening)
John launched yet another paper airplane from his bed, trying to best his earlier twelve foot record. Paper planes littered the floor around his room; the sad remnants of John’s need to escape his earlier emotional humiliation with Rodney.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he said launched his last paper plane. His supply of graph paper had (finally) run out.
He had made a real hash of things with McKay with his stupid candy plan. Now Rodney thought Sheppard was trying to block him from his lifelong ambition of achieving his overdue (according to Rodney) Nobel Prize.
Sheppard knew how this worked with women. Turn on the charm, some candy, some flowers, buy her a drink and it usually worked out. The few times with men had been after a couple of beers in the back rooms or alleyways of some foreign bar. Quickly achieved and just as quickly forgotten.
But Rodney was different-well, no big surprise there. He didn’t fit in the one-off category. He was first and foremost John’s best friend on Atlantis. Maybe John had made a mistake assuming it could or should have been more but just the thought of a long-term separation from Rodney was almost physically painful to him.
John shifted on the bed, his hands behind his head. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he had made up with McKay. Looking at his watch he realized it was past midnight but, knowing Rodney's habits as well as he did, assumed he would still be working in his lab. He got up and contemplated putting his socks and boots back on. Screw it. Only his men were patrolling at this time of night. Who would care whether he was regulation or not? One way or another John was going to fix the mess he had made with McKay tonight.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rodney stared morosely at the now-empty coffee pot across from his desk. That tricky Czech Radek had hidden the balance of the decent Hawaiian beans and had left only instant in their supply cabinet to mock Rodney’s caffeine need. He shuddered with total revulsion as he looked at the jar. He would have happily introduced the creator of that particular blasphemy to the Wraith.
He looked at his watch. Oh, past midnight. He had meant to finish up earlier in time to talk to Sheppard.
The projects would have to wait a few more hours and, if he couldn’t finish, Radek would have to take over while he was away. He rubbed his face tiredly with both his hands and shut down the three laptops he had been working on. Knowing Sheppard’s sleep habits as well as his own he would be willing to bet that the Colonel was still up playing a game on his laptop or reading. Being military head of Atlantis generated just about the same amount sleepless nights as did heading the scientific team.
He got up out of his chair and, ouch, his butt and his back were sore. Too many hours crouched over his variety of projects had caused more than a few kinks to develop. Rodney fumbled for his desk drawer, opened it, and took out the last of his ibuprofen supply. He tossed them back with the last bit of cold coffee in the bottom of his cup.
The tablets lodged halfway down his throat (he hated that) just as the door to the lab whooshed open and Sheppard came in looking a bit more rumpled than usual, barefoot, but with a determined look on his face.
“McKay, we need to talk.”
“Ack, ack,” Rodney replied as he looked around the lab for some leftover coffee or water to wash down these stupid tablets. He tried to force them down using his hand to massage his throat.
“McKay, are you all right?” Sheppard asked, now sounding alarmed.
Then Rodney remembered that Miko always left some seltzer water by her table for the next workday. But before he had done much more than turn in the direction of her desk he found two rock solid arms coiled around his body and a crushing pressure brought to bear under his sternum. “What are you doing?” he squawked. The pressure eased but Sheppard didn’t remove his arms--just loosened his grip.
“I thought you were choking,” John replied into his right ear, causing the hair on Rodney’s arms to stand on end.
Rodney turned but John still hadn’t removed his arms which forced him to tilt his chin a bit to meet John’s gaze.
“Well clearly, I’m not,” he said.
“Okay,” Sheppard replied.
“You can let go now.”
“Okay.” But Sheppard didn’t release his hold on Rodney.
Rodney felt oddly comfortable and more than a little turned on. His face scrunched up painfully as the other boot (military, of course) finally dropped. “You moron! Why didn’t you say something?” he shouted, nearly deafening them both.
“I did. You don’t think I go around offering my blow pops to just anyone, do you?” he asked with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Rodney began to splutter but John cut off anything more Rodney had to say on the subject by mashing his mouth onto the scientists with more force than finesse. Rodney responded by grabbing John’s ass cheeks and squeezing hard. John grunted and the kiss went from awkward to messy and hot in seconds.
The two Marines passing by the labs assumed Dr. McKay was burning the midnight oil again but knowing his dedication to his work (and surliness if interrupted) wisely left him in peace.
Day Seven
Elizabeth walked into her office feeling rejuvenated by her early-morning workout followed by a hot shower. She felt ready to take on whatever new challenges Atlantis brought forth. Sipping her coffee she squinted at her desk. Was that a paper plane?
It was, and seemed to have some black marker scrawled on it.
She carefully laid down her hot drink and picked up the apparent note. Scrawled in shaky letters were the words I’m staying. Rodney
Elizabeth smiled ruefully and wondered if she would ever get the full story from Rodney. Probably not. But in the end what did it matter? Rodney was staying where he belonged.
She turned on her laptop and began her day.
End
**
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