SGA fic: Your World in Lights
Title: Your World in Lights
Author: pinn
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not claiming otherwise. Also, this is Christmas fic, plain and simple. It's a bit like Christmas candy, no substance and guaranteed to make your stomach hurt.
Your World in Lights
There were certain things that were constant in John's universe. One of those was that while he was always up at six a.m., Rodney wouldn't get out of bed before ten, not for sex, coffee, or wormhole physics.
That's why John was confused when he woke up at his usual time and the bed was empty save for Cat, curled up on Rodney's pillow. John rubbed his face and stared at Cat as he tried to remember if Rodney had come to bed the night before. He remembered something curling up next to him around three and since he knew it wasn't the cat, it must have been Rodney.
He looked at Cat and asked, "Where's your owner?"
Cat hissed at him, sounding as though he blamed John for every thing that had ever gone wrong in his short life. John shook his head and swung his feet off the bed. He really needed to talk to Rodney about getting a pet that John could actually interact with instead of one that hated his very existence.
He stumbled out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where the light was on. Rodney was sitting at the table, books stacked around him and papers everywhere.
"What are you doing?" John grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself some coffee.
Without looking up, Rodney replied, "Making the shopping list for Christmas."
John hopped up on the counter and drank some more coffee while he thought about what Rodney had just said. After awhile of watching Rodney scowl and curse Julia Child, John felt it necessary to ask, "You do know that's two weeks away, right?"
"What? Yes, I know that. I just want us to be prepared. I don't want a repeat of Thanksgiving."
John launched automatically into the apology that he'd been reciting for the past month. "I'm sorry that I forgot that Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving in October, and then got pissy when you refused to celebrate my Thanksgiving."
Both days, they had wound up eating microwave meals in silence and going to bed early.
"You don't have to apologize. I should have known that your IQ would drop once you weren't surrounded by geniuses and that dates would be the first thing to go." Rodney put down The Joy of Cooking and grabbed another book. "Speaking of, I think we should read two journal articles each week and discuss them. I can't spend the rest of my life with a drooling idiot."
"Sounds great." John rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. He looked at the list in front of Rodney and his mouth dropped. "You do know that it's just going to be us and your creepy cat, right? We don't need that much food."
"My cat's not creepy. Besides, Ronon and Lorne said they'd come."
"You talked to them? They're going to be in town?" Thanks to Rodney, Ronon and Lorne spent most of their time traveling, trying to expand the business quietly.
"Yep. I also thought we could invite some of your friends."
"Rodney, all my friends are 15-year-olds with attitude problems. And your cat really is creepy."
"That's why we should invite them over. Give them the chance to see that life doesn't always suck as much as it does when you're a teenager." Rodney looked hesitant and John sighed.
"You're just mad that I won't let you come down to the Y and meet them."
"Maybe."
"Do you promise not to insult any of them?" John leaned back in his chair and grinned.
"You know I don't like to make promises that I can't guarantee I'll keep."
"Rodney."
Rodney threw his hands up in the air. "Yes, fine. I'll be on my best behavior."
"I'll see what I can do." John decided to push his luck. "Are you sure we can't get a dog?"
"What is so wrong with my cat?"
John played with the edge of the placemat that Jeannie had sent them. "He never lets me pet him and he hisses at me all the time."
Rodney dropped his pen and looked at John. "Did you regress to a five-year-old overnight?"
"I just want a real pet, one that's not always trying to cut my aorta."
John looked over across the table and saw a large stack of drawings. He should know better by now but clearly he didn't because he leaned across the table to get a better look. They looked like drawings of the house with some numbers written on them and different colors scribbled in. "What is this?"
"Hmm?" Rodney looked up from Cook's Illustrated and said, "Oh, those are the blueprints for the lights. You think you can get them all done by tomorrow?"
"Rodney," John flipped through the papers, "there's a separate design for each side of the house. I couldn't get this done in a week."
"Well, you better get cracking. Come on, Christmas lights don't hang themselves." John didn't move; he just stared at Rodney until he looked up again. "Oh all right, I'll give you a blowjob, plus I'll do that thing with my tongue if you can get them done by tomorrow."
"I want a bonus if I get done ahead of schedule and under budget." John stood up.
"Done, go." Rodney shooed him out of the kitchen.
*
The following afternoon found John standing outside his house, staring at the front lights, arranged to resemble the major constellation in the Pegasus galaxy. He should have known that Rodney would design something like this. The whole house looked pretty good. John had followed Rodney's design and had also thrown in some of his own touches.
Truth be told, John was feeling a bit like Clark Griswold at that moment. He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before he started putting his tools away.
"What an egregious display, Sheppard." Lorne said from behind him.
John turned around and found Lorne and Ronon standing on the sidewalk, staring at the house with amused and horrified expressions, respectively. "Gentleman, it was all Rodney's idea. I thought you weren't coming until next week."
"Lorne wanted to see his girlfriend." Ronon cocked his head. "Is that supposed to Mahara?"
"She's not my girlfriend," Lorne snapped. "She's a girl who is a friend who I enjoy eating dinner with occasionally because she has table manners and knows how to carry on a conversation, unlike some people."
Ronon waved his hand. "Same thing. Seriously, Sheppard, what is that?"
"It's Mahara. Rodney drew it from memory. Is it wrong?" John turned to face the house and the three of them stared at the house.
"Nope."
After they had put the ladder and the leftover decorations away, John led them into the kitchen where Rodney was designing a spreadsheet that would allow him to determine what needed to go into the oven and at what time.
"Rodney, two bums showed up on our doorstep. Can I keep them?"
Without even looking up, Rodney said, "Might as well. It's not like anyone else will take them."
Ronon grabbed McKay in a headlock, Lorne laughed, and John grabbed some beers from the fridge.
Later that night, after Ronon and Lorne had gone home, John laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Did Ronon tell you that Lorne's seeing someone?"
Rodney put down his copy of Journal of Applied Biophysics. "No."
"Apparently, he's been seeing her for a few months now. She's a vet. Ronon seems to think it's serious."
"Does that upset you?"
John shrugged as best he could. "I don't know. He can't mourn Elizabeth forever and he shouldn't, but it's weird. Life does go on. And this girl, she's not going to know a thing about us and what we went through."
"There's a lot of people, pretty much the entire planet, who don't know about Atlantis." Rodney reminded him.
"Yeah, I know, but it's weird to think someone could know him and not know about that. I told Lorne that he should invite her to the big dinner. He said he'd think about it."
"I'll add an extra setting. What about Ronon?"
"Nah." John rolled over onto his side and looked at Rodney. "I asked him when you and Lorne were talking about the business plan for next year. He said that on Sateda, you're considered lucky to love and be loved once in your life. To have that kind of thing twice means the gods look very highly upon you. Three times is unheard of."
"So he's just stopped trying? That's depressing and stupid."
"Way to be supportive, Rodney. Give him time, things could change in a few years." John waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Why don't you put that journal away and I'll show you some biophysics in action?"
Rodney groaned and threw the journal on to the floor. "Why does that turn me on so much?"
John flopped on his back and smirked. "Don't forget about my bonus."
*
In the end, four of his kids didn't have anywhere to go on Christmas Eve and John managed to convince them that his house was as good a place as any. They were the ones he was most worried about, the ones who were scary smart but were in such bad situations that John wasn't sure they could ever get out. He kept trying though.
Rodney spent the three days leading up to Christmas completely freaked out, trying to get everything done. At one point, John was worried that Rodney might resort to uppers again just to get everything done but they managed to avoid that thanks to a quick fuck against the fridge.
Lorne agreed to bring his special friend, as Rodney liked to call her, and Ronon was a given making a grand total of nine. Christmas Eve morning, there was a knock on the door and Zelenka, claiming that he had gotten an e-mail from Rodney that was so wrong that Zelenka felt obliged to correct him in person, brought the number up to ten.
The kids showed up a little early and John introduced them to Rodney, managed to keep Rodney and Zelenka from setting up a brain bowl during appetizers, and instead got a game of football going on the lawn.
Before everyone sat down at the tables haphazardly thrown together, John said grace. He raised his glass and said, "For those who are here, those who are far away, and those who aren't with us anymore."
Everyone raised their glass and said amen, before Rodney said, "I hope you're all hungry. If not, leave."
Later, after they had eaten as much as they could fit, Lorne's girlfriend started telling the stories about the different animals she had worked with, and the five of them snuck out to John's backyard to see Atlantis outlined in Christmas lights on his back wall.
"Rodney," Zelenka slurred. "I fear you forget the northwest spire."
"Wrong. It's right there. Good to know that you still have no sense of direction," Rodney snapped.
Ronon pointed to the southwest tier. "I always liked the view from there."
"Really?" Lorne asked. "I preferred the piers. I know that makes me sound like a Navy guy but I liked how close you could get to the water. Really let me feel alone when I needed it."
"Hang on," John said. "Is that where you were all those times I needed you and couldn't get you on the com?"
"You didn't need me; you needed your requisition forms done." Everyone laughed and John shook his head. He really did hate paperwork.
"What was your favorite spot, Rodney?" John nudged him in the ribs.
Rodney looked at him and smiled his little bitter smile that always made John feel like he had just been punched in the gut. "The whole thing."
They stood outside admiring the lights for another few minutes but eventually the cold proved to be too much and they all headed back inside.
After Lorne and his girlfriend left, kids and Ronon in tow, and Zelenka had poured himself into the guest bedroom, John and Rodney tackled the mountain of dishes in the kitchen. Rodney approached cooking the same way he approached science and it always resulted in the kitchen looking like a tornado had swept through.
John was humming 'Silver Bells' and drying the serving platter when Rodney turned from the sink and asked, "You had a good time tonight, right? It was worth it, wasn't it?"
John laughed. "Yes, Rodney, it was totally worth it. But, you know what would have made it perfect?"
"I can only imagine."
"A dog."
"No."
"How can you be so cold-hearted?" John wondered.
"It's very easy, you should try it sometime." Rodney threw his towel on the counter and surveyed the kitchen. "Let's just go to bed. If we're lucky, Zelenka will wake up early and wash the rest of the dishes."
"Maybe Santa will do them."
"Oh please," Rodney rolled his eyes as he turned out the kitchen lights. "You can't really believe in that."
John followed Rodney down the hallway to their bedroom. "Rodney, we traveled to another galaxy and fought aliens. Are you really going to tell me that Santa Claus can't exist?"
Rodney threw his shirt towards the hamper and kicked his pants off. "All I'm saying is that there's no proof for his existence."
"And I'm saying that there's no proof against his existence." John stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.
"Yes, but you've got no evidence." Rodney pulled the covers up and turned out the light.
"Why don't we discuss this at our next journal club?" John suggested. "Go to sleep."
Rodney grumbled even as he wrapped himself around John, and John laughed. The grumbling was just an act, Rodney didn't have it in him to prove that Santa wasn't real. Even if he tried to, John had planted a few surprises around the house that would make sections of Rodney's algorithm illogical.
A/N: It's worth mentioning that the original ending of this fic involved a puppy but cooler heads (tarteaucitron) prevailed and the puppy, named Puddle, was cast outside into the cold winter night. I'm sure she'll be fine.
Anyways, much thanks to tarteaucitron and mswalter for looking this over. Ladies, send the dental bills straight to me and I'll take care of you. Also, algernon-mouse guilted me into finishing this so I guess maybe she should get some recognition or something.
Note: This is a Christmas interlude in 'A White House' series.
Note Two: Merry Christmas, apple_pi. Here's a little gift for you.
Author: pinn
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not claiming otherwise. Also, this is Christmas fic, plain and simple. It's a bit like Christmas candy, no substance and guaranteed to make your stomach hurt.
Your World in Lights
There were certain things that were constant in John's universe. One of those was that while he was always up at six a.m., Rodney wouldn't get out of bed before ten, not for sex, coffee, or wormhole physics.
That's why John was confused when he woke up at his usual time and the bed was empty save for Cat, curled up on Rodney's pillow. John rubbed his face and stared at Cat as he tried to remember if Rodney had come to bed the night before. He remembered something curling up next to him around three and since he knew it wasn't the cat, it must have been Rodney.
He looked at Cat and asked, "Where's your owner?"
Cat hissed at him, sounding as though he blamed John for every thing that had ever gone wrong in his short life. John shook his head and swung his feet off the bed. He really needed to talk to Rodney about getting a pet that John could actually interact with instead of one that hated his very existence.
He stumbled out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where the light was on. Rodney was sitting at the table, books stacked around him and papers everywhere.
"What are you doing?" John grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself some coffee.
Without looking up, Rodney replied, "Making the shopping list for Christmas."
John hopped up on the counter and drank some more coffee while he thought about what Rodney had just said. After awhile of watching Rodney scowl and curse Julia Child, John felt it necessary to ask, "You do know that's two weeks away, right?"
"What? Yes, I know that. I just want us to be prepared. I don't want a repeat of Thanksgiving."
John launched automatically into the apology that he'd been reciting for the past month. "I'm sorry that I forgot that Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving in October, and then got pissy when you refused to celebrate my Thanksgiving."
Both days, they had wound up eating microwave meals in silence and going to bed early.
"You don't have to apologize. I should have known that your IQ would drop once you weren't surrounded by geniuses and that dates would be the first thing to go." Rodney put down The Joy of Cooking and grabbed another book. "Speaking of, I think we should read two journal articles each week and discuss them. I can't spend the rest of my life with a drooling idiot."
"Sounds great." John rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. He looked at the list in front of Rodney and his mouth dropped. "You do know that it's just going to be us and your creepy cat, right? We don't need that much food."
"My cat's not creepy. Besides, Ronon and Lorne said they'd come."
"You talked to them? They're going to be in town?" Thanks to Rodney, Ronon and Lorne spent most of their time traveling, trying to expand the business quietly.
"Yep. I also thought we could invite some of your friends."
"Rodney, all my friends are 15-year-olds with attitude problems. And your cat really is creepy."
"That's why we should invite them over. Give them the chance to see that life doesn't always suck as much as it does when you're a teenager." Rodney looked hesitant and John sighed.
"You're just mad that I won't let you come down to the Y and meet them."
"Maybe."
"Do you promise not to insult any of them?" John leaned back in his chair and grinned.
"You know I don't like to make promises that I can't guarantee I'll keep."
"Rodney."
Rodney threw his hands up in the air. "Yes, fine. I'll be on my best behavior."
"I'll see what I can do." John decided to push his luck. "Are you sure we can't get a dog?"
"What is so wrong with my cat?"
John played with the edge of the placemat that Jeannie had sent them. "He never lets me pet him and he hisses at me all the time."
Rodney dropped his pen and looked at John. "Did you regress to a five-year-old overnight?"
"I just want a real pet, one that's not always trying to cut my aorta."
John looked over across the table and saw a large stack of drawings. He should know better by now but clearly he didn't because he leaned across the table to get a better look. They looked like drawings of the house with some numbers written on them and different colors scribbled in. "What is this?"
"Hmm?" Rodney looked up from Cook's Illustrated and said, "Oh, those are the blueprints for the lights. You think you can get them all done by tomorrow?"
"Rodney," John flipped through the papers, "there's a separate design for each side of the house. I couldn't get this done in a week."
"Well, you better get cracking. Come on, Christmas lights don't hang themselves." John didn't move; he just stared at Rodney until he looked up again. "Oh all right, I'll give you a blowjob, plus I'll do that thing with my tongue if you can get them done by tomorrow."
"I want a bonus if I get done ahead of schedule and under budget." John stood up.
"Done, go." Rodney shooed him out of the kitchen.
*
The following afternoon found John standing outside his house, staring at the front lights, arranged to resemble the major constellation in the Pegasus galaxy. He should have known that Rodney would design something like this. The whole house looked pretty good. John had followed Rodney's design and had also thrown in some of his own touches.
Truth be told, John was feeling a bit like Clark Griswold at that moment. He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before he started putting his tools away.
"What an egregious display, Sheppard." Lorne said from behind him.
John turned around and found Lorne and Ronon standing on the sidewalk, staring at the house with amused and horrified expressions, respectively. "Gentleman, it was all Rodney's idea. I thought you weren't coming until next week."
"Lorne wanted to see his girlfriend." Ronon cocked his head. "Is that supposed to Mahara?"
"She's not my girlfriend," Lorne snapped. "She's a girl who is a friend who I enjoy eating dinner with occasionally because she has table manners and knows how to carry on a conversation, unlike some people."
Ronon waved his hand. "Same thing. Seriously, Sheppard, what is that?"
"It's Mahara. Rodney drew it from memory. Is it wrong?" John turned to face the house and the three of them stared at the house.
"Nope."
After they had put the ladder and the leftover decorations away, John led them into the kitchen where Rodney was designing a spreadsheet that would allow him to determine what needed to go into the oven and at what time.
"Rodney, two bums showed up on our doorstep. Can I keep them?"
Without even looking up, Rodney said, "Might as well. It's not like anyone else will take them."
Ronon grabbed McKay in a headlock, Lorne laughed, and John grabbed some beers from the fridge.
Later that night, after Ronon and Lorne had gone home, John laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Did Ronon tell you that Lorne's seeing someone?"
Rodney put down his copy of Journal of Applied Biophysics. "No."
"Apparently, he's been seeing her for a few months now. She's a vet. Ronon seems to think it's serious."
"Does that upset you?"
John shrugged as best he could. "I don't know. He can't mourn Elizabeth forever and he shouldn't, but it's weird. Life does go on. And this girl, she's not going to know a thing about us and what we went through."
"There's a lot of people, pretty much the entire planet, who don't know about Atlantis." Rodney reminded him.
"Yeah, I know, but it's weird to think someone could know him and not know about that. I told Lorne that he should invite her to the big dinner. He said he'd think about it."
"I'll add an extra setting. What about Ronon?"
"Nah." John rolled over onto his side and looked at Rodney. "I asked him when you and Lorne were talking about the business plan for next year. He said that on Sateda, you're considered lucky to love and be loved once in your life. To have that kind of thing twice means the gods look very highly upon you. Three times is unheard of."
"So he's just stopped trying? That's depressing and stupid."
"Way to be supportive, Rodney. Give him time, things could change in a few years." John waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Why don't you put that journal away and I'll show you some biophysics in action?"
Rodney groaned and threw the journal on to the floor. "Why does that turn me on so much?"
John flopped on his back and smirked. "Don't forget about my bonus."
*
In the end, four of his kids didn't have anywhere to go on Christmas Eve and John managed to convince them that his house was as good a place as any. They were the ones he was most worried about, the ones who were scary smart but were in such bad situations that John wasn't sure they could ever get out. He kept trying though.
Rodney spent the three days leading up to Christmas completely freaked out, trying to get everything done. At one point, John was worried that Rodney might resort to uppers again just to get everything done but they managed to avoid that thanks to a quick fuck against the fridge.
Lorne agreed to bring his special friend, as Rodney liked to call her, and Ronon was a given making a grand total of nine. Christmas Eve morning, there was a knock on the door and Zelenka, claiming that he had gotten an e-mail from Rodney that was so wrong that Zelenka felt obliged to correct him in person, brought the number up to ten.
The kids showed up a little early and John introduced them to Rodney, managed to keep Rodney and Zelenka from setting up a brain bowl during appetizers, and instead got a game of football going on the lawn.
Before everyone sat down at the tables haphazardly thrown together, John said grace. He raised his glass and said, "For those who are here, those who are far away, and those who aren't with us anymore."
Everyone raised their glass and said amen, before Rodney said, "I hope you're all hungry. If not, leave."
Later, after they had eaten as much as they could fit, Lorne's girlfriend started telling the stories about the different animals she had worked with, and the five of them snuck out to John's backyard to see Atlantis outlined in Christmas lights on his back wall.
"Rodney," Zelenka slurred. "I fear you forget the northwest spire."
"Wrong. It's right there. Good to know that you still have no sense of direction," Rodney snapped.
Ronon pointed to the southwest tier. "I always liked the view from there."
"Really?" Lorne asked. "I preferred the piers. I know that makes me sound like a Navy guy but I liked how close you could get to the water. Really let me feel alone when I needed it."
"Hang on," John said. "Is that where you were all those times I needed you and couldn't get you on the com?"
"You didn't need me; you needed your requisition forms done." Everyone laughed and John shook his head. He really did hate paperwork.
"What was your favorite spot, Rodney?" John nudged him in the ribs.
Rodney looked at him and smiled his little bitter smile that always made John feel like he had just been punched in the gut. "The whole thing."
They stood outside admiring the lights for another few minutes but eventually the cold proved to be too much and they all headed back inside.
After Lorne and his girlfriend left, kids and Ronon in tow, and Zelenka had poured himself into the guest bedroom, John and Rodney tackled the mountain of dishes in the kitchen. Rodney approached cooking the same way he approached science and it always resulted in the kitchen looking like a tornado had swept through.
John was humming 'Silver Bells' and drying the serving platter when Rodney turned from the sink and asked, "You had a good time tonight, right? It was worth it, wasn't it?"
John laughed. "Yes, Rodney, it was totally worth it. But, you know what would have made it perfect?"
"I can only imagine."
"A dog."
"No."
"How can you be so cold-hearted?" John wondered.
"It's very easy, you should try it sometime." Rodney threw his towel on the counter and surveyed the kitchen. "Let's just go to bed. If we're lucky, Zelenka will wake up early and wash the rest of the dishes."
"Maybe Santa will do them."
"Oh please," Rodney rolled his eyes as he turned out the kitchen lights. "You can't really believe in that."
John followed Rodney down the hallway to their bedroom. "Rodney, we traveled to another galaxy and fought aliens. Are you really going to tell me that Santa Claus can't exist?"
Rodney threw his shirt towards the hamper and kicked his pants off. "All I'm saying is that there's no proof for his existence."
"And I'm saying that there's no proof against his existence." John stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.
"Yes, but you've got no evidence." Rodney pulled the covers up and turned out the light.
"Why don't we discuss this at our next journal club?" John suggested. "Go to sleep."
Rodney grumbled even as he wrapped himself around John, and John laughed. The grumbling was just an act, Rodney didn't have it in him to prove that Santa wasn't real. Even if he tried to, John had planted a few surprises around the house that would make sections of Rodney's algorithm illogical.
A/N: It's worth mentioning that the original ending of this fic involved a puppy but cooler heads (tarteaucitron) prevailed and the puppy, named Puddle, was cast outside into the cold winter night. I'm sure she'll be fine.
Anyways, much thanks to tarteaucitron and mswalter for looking this over. Ladies, send the dental bills straight to me and I'll take care of you. Also, algernon-mouse guilted me into finishing this so I guess maybe she should get some recognition or something.
Note: This is a Christmas interlude in 'A White House' series.
Note Two: Merry Christmas, apple_pi. Here's a little gift for you.