A Well-Groomed Proposal, by kageygirl, for the Harlequin challenge
Title: A Well-Groomed Proposal
Author: kageygirl
Rating: G (this part)
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Summary: Rodney McKay's never had a problem with his image, but for the sake of his boss and the future of his company, he'll let himself be remade at the hands of John Sheppard. Though that's not all that he wants from John's hands...
Notes: The lack-of-speed with which I write is legendary in my own mind, especially when I have to keep stopping because the crackfic, it breaks my brain, so like a few people before me, this is just the first part. (Though I actually have it plotted all the way to the end, miracle of miracles. *g*) Adapted from this Harlequin plot summary.
A Well-Groomed Proposal, part the first
Unbelievable. This was completely--"Completely, absolutely, utterly unbelievable," Rodney McKay said aloud, because the sheer absurdity of the whole situation was too great to adequately express only in his head.
"You keep saying that, and yet I believe it anyway. If only because you refuse to stop talking about it." Radek Zelenka leaned against one of the counters in Rodney's official lab, arms crossed, watching Rodney like a short, tousled hawk, as Rodney paced around the room.
Rodney had never liked it here, in the corporate headquarters of Atlantis Avionics. He much preferred his workspace in the offsite R & D facility, but for the upcoming merger with Pegasus Aerospace, Elizabeth Weir had brought all of her department heads together, and now Rodney had to jump through yet another hoop, thank you ever so much.
He glared at Zelenka, who was disappointingly unruffled by Rodney's agitation thus far. "How, exactly, did you get out of this again? Oh, that's right--Elizabeth likes you. Favoritism, the last refuge of the tragically underskilled."
Zelenka tilted his head and looked Rodney over with an almost clinical eye. "I'm not going to bother to correct your underestimation of my abilities, McKay, because you have just demonstrated exactly why you require someone to refine your personality and why I do not. Unlike you, I can behave in a civilized manner. Particularly around very important money people." He blinked, and raised his eyebrows, looking like a simple rumpled researcher again. "You really think Dr. Weir likes me?"
Rodney continued pacing, one arm wrapped around his chest, the other hand pressed against his mouth. He said, almost absently, "She must, because the way she smiles when she talks about you can't possibly be related to the quality of your work."
"Yet you keep me on as your assistant department head anyway. I am touched. And in this case, I am also happy to be lost in your overblown shadow, unimportant to the negotiations."
Rodney stopped, looking at Zelenka and twirling his hand dismissively. "An image consultant. As if I can't think of a thousand better uses for my time and the company's money."
"I would be grateful if you resist the urge to name them." Zelenka shrugged at him. "If it makes you feel better, Kavanagh is considered such a lost cause that he has been sent away on a mandatory vacation until the merger is finalized."
Rodney blinked, then nodded thoughtfully. "Actually, it does. Thank you." He started to pace again, only to stop again and wave at Zelenka. "Get out of here, Radek. I'm sure Elizabeth wanted you to baby-sit me, but I promise I'll go along with this dog-and-pony show. Although I expect a substantial raise in our departmental budget."
Zelenka raised his eyebrows. "You know, you might actually learn something from him. Perhaps it will even help with your love life."
"My love life is fine, thank you. Now go work on yours."
Shaking his head, Zelenka walked out the door, leaving Rodney alone to pace and fidget and worry about what, exactly, it was that an image consultant did, and exactly how he'd gotten himself into a position of caring what anyone else thought of him, because one of the benefits of being a software engineer was that no one was supposed to be concerned with how he looked or acted, as long as he did his work well and on time.
Rodney decided that he needed a cup of coffee to settle his nerves, and was reminded that one of the reasons he disliked being here was that he had to actually leave the room and go down the hall to locate a coffeemaker.
When he came back, there was a dark-haired man leaning into the open doorway of Rodney's lab--clearly out of place, because Rodney knew just enough about clothing to know that the man's suit spoke of tailors and thread quality and other things Rodney didn't bother himself with.
The man turned when he heard Rodney coming, and wow, okay, if that was the image consultant, Rodney was more than prepared to do some consulting about his image. His artfully tousled hair put Radek's absentmindedly tousled look to shame, and his unbuttoned burgundy silk shirt emphasized an elegant neck, a strikingly handsome face, and a gorgeous pair of eyes.
He looked back at Rodney and smiled, ironic yet strangely shy, and Rodney decided then and there that he'd be more than willing to put himself into this man's hands.
Or, if things went really well, put this man's hands on him.
Author: kageygirl
Rating: G (this part)
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Summary: Rodney McKay's never had a problem with his image, but for the sake of his boss and the future of his company, he'll let himself be remade at the hands of John Sheppard. Though that's not all that he wants from John's hands...
Notes: The lack-of-speed with which I write is legendary in my own mind, especially when I have to keep stopping because the crackfic, it breaks my brain, so like a few people before me, this is just the first part. (Though I actually have it plotted all the way to the end, miracle of miracles. *g*) Adapted from this Harlequin plot summary.
A Well-Groomed Proposal, part the first
Unbelievable. This was completely--"Completely, absolutely, utterly unbelievable," Rodney McKay said aloud, because the sheer absurdity of the whole situation was too great to adequately express only in his head.
"You keep saying that, and yet I believe it anyway. If only because you refuse to stop talking about it." Radek Zelenka leaned against one of the counters in Rodney's official lab, arms crossed, watching Rodney like a short, tousled hawk, as Rodney paced around the room.
Rodney had never liked it here, in the corporate headquarters of Atlantis Avionics. He much preferred his workspace in the offsite R & D facility, but for the upcoming merger with Pegasus Aerospace, Elizabeth Weir had brought all of her department heads together, and now Rodney had to jump through yet another hoop, thank you ever so much.
He glared at Zelenka, who was disappointingly unruffled by Rodney's agitation thus far. "How, exactly, did you get out of this again? Oh, that's right--Elizabeth likes you. Favoritism, the last refuge of the tragically underskilled."
Zelenka tilted his head and looked Rodney over with an almost clinical eye. "I'm not going to bother to correct your underestimation of my abilities, McKay, because you have just demonstrated exactly why you require someone to refine your personality and why I do not. Unlike you, I can behave in a civilized manner. Particularly around very important money people." He blinked, and raised his eyebrows, looking like a simple rumpled researcher again. "You really think Dr. Weir likes me?"
Rodney continued pacing, one arm wrapped around his chest, the other hand pressed against his mouth. He said, almost absently, "She must, because the way she smiles when she talks about you can't possibly be related to the quality of your work."
"Yet you keep me on as your assistant department head anyway. I am touched. And in this case, I am also happy to be lost in your overblown shadow, unimportant to the negotiations."
Rodney stopped, looking at Zelenka and twirling his hand dismissively. "An image consultant. As if I can't think of a thousand better uses for my time and the company's money."
"I would be grateful if you resist the urge to name them." Zelenka shrugged at him. "If it makes you feel better, Kavanagh is considered such a lost cause that he has been sent away on a mandatory vacation until the merger is finalized."
Rodney blinked, then nodded thoughtfully. "Actually, it does. Thank you." He started to pace again, only to stop again and wave at Zelenka. "Get out of here, Radek. I'm sure Elizabeth wanted you to baby-sit me, but I promise I'll go along with this dog-and-pony show. Although I expect a substantial raise in our departmental budget."
Zelenka raised his eyebrows. "You know, you might actually learn something from him. Perhaps it will even help with your love life."
"My love life is fine, thank you. Now go work on yours."
Shaking his head, Zelenka walked out the door, leaving Rodney alone to pace and fidget and worry about what, exactly, it was that an image consultant did, and exactly how he'd gotten himself into a position of caring what anyone else thought of him, because one of the benefits of being a software engineer was that no one was supposed to be concerned with how he looked or acted, as long as he did his work well and on time.
Rodney decided that he needed a cup of coffee to settle his nerves, and was reminded that one of the reasons he disliked being here was that he had to actually leave the room and go down the hall to locate a coffeemaker.
When he came back, there was a dark-haired man leaning into the open doorway of Rodney's lab--clearly out of place, because Rodney knew just enough about clothing to know that the man's suit spoke of tailors and thread quality and other things Rodney didn't bother himself with.
The man turned when he heard Rodney coming, and wow, okay, if that was the image consultant, Rodney was more than prepared to do some consulting about his image. His artfully tousled hair put Radek's absentmindedly tousled look to shame, and his unbuttoned burgundy silk shirt emphasized an elegant neck, a strikingly handsome face, and a gorgeous pair of eyes.
He looked back at Rodney and smiled, ironic yet strangely shy, and Rodney decided then and there that he'd be more than willing to put himself into this man's hands.
Or, if things went really well, put this man's hands on him.