Ficlet: Times of Trouble by HYPERFocused, John/Rodney Rated a little bit PG
Title: Times of Trouble
Author: HYPERFocused
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: A little bit PG
A/N: In honor (or possibly horror) of Mpreg day. The story fits the challenge, plus, I’m a virgin to the genre. This is totally not the plot-filled epic I imagined for this challenge. (I'm working on it, though)
ETA: http://aelora.livejournal.com/770213.html (MPReg day explained)
It had been just Kavanaugh’s luck that Dr. Weir had finally relented and allowed him to go off world again. This was supposed to have been a cakewalk of a mission. And it was, except that Kavanaugh had returned with something in the oven.
"In tribute to our now shared lives, a gift will be given to one who has never been taken." Those had been the cryptic words pronounced by the political and spiritual leader of their latest alliance, a statuesque blonde to whom John thought Rodney had paid an embarrassing amount of attention.
Her speech had come with an almost completely powered ZPM, and a supply of natural fabric with waterproof qualities, which all seemed like gifts enough that Rodney just said "Thank you, we’re all very grateful," and didn’t question that last bit.
By the time they all figured out what she’d meant, it was too late. The damage was done.
It took almost a week before anyone believed Kavanaugh‘s complaints were more than his usual. First, he’d gone to Carson with symptoms of food poisoning -- leading into a tirade about the new cook that had come in on the last Daedelus run. The chef had trained at both CIAs, so that clearly wasn’t the problem. The next day, he’d been quite conciliatory, almost kind. It was a total mood swing.
"If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were --" Dr Beckett started. He didn’t finish his thought, instead running the portable scanner over him. "Pregnant." Rodney finished for him. He’d burned his hand on a crystal, and was waiting for Carson to check him out and release him.
"Yes, Rodney, as a matter of fact. Now give the man some privacy so we can figure out what’s really happening. Obviously this Ancient contraption isn’t calibrated correctly." He closed the curtain between them.
The whining started when John woke up. Actually, before John woke up. And it was Rodney doing most of the complaining, which was odd, because by all rights it should have been Kavanaugh. Not that John normally woke up to Kavanaugh’s whining. But he had a way of making his dissatisfaction known, no matter the hour.
"I don’t believe it," Rodney said, not for the first time. Not for the fifteenth time, either. The story had been the talk of Atlantis for the past two months. The birth looked like it was going to happen soon, the gift apparently included accelerated growth. It was all kind of creepy, as was the thought of a smaller version of the child’s father, greasy haired and sanctimonious.
"This is the Pegasus galaxy, home of life sucking vampires and Amish people with machine guns. What’s not to believe?" John cut the complaint out with a kiss, morning breath be damned.
"That’s not what I meant." Rodney tried to explain, but John wasn‘t amenable to much discussion beyond "lower" or "yes, just like that.".
"What, then?" John distracted him some more by nibbling down Rodney’s collarbone.
"It’s just - yeah, that’s nice -- it’s Kavanaugh."
"And it would be less weird if it was someone else?"
"Well, yes."
"You should thank God it wasn’t you.." John went to work on a nipple.
"Hello, no longer any kind of virgin here." Rodney arched up into the touch. "Thanks to you."
"Heh, yeah. Good point.So what are you bitching about? I would have thought you’d find this fascinating."
"The man already thinks he’s a God. He’s going to be even more insufferable."
Speaking of insufferable, John thought uncharitably, before distracting Rodney’s rant the best way he knew how.
Author: HYPERFocused
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: A little bit PG
A/N: In honor (or possibly horror) of Mpreg day. The story fits the challenge, plus, I’m a virgin to the genre. This is totally not the plot-filled epic I imagined for this challenge. (I'm working on it, though)
ETA: http://aelora.livejournal.com/770213.html (MPReg day explained)
It had been just Kavanaugh’s luck that Dr. Weir had finally relented and allowed him to go off world again. This was supposed to have been a cakewalk of a mission. And it was, except that Kavanaugh had returned with something in the oven.
"In tribute to our now shared lives, a gift will be given to one who has never been taken." Those had been the cryptic words pronounced by the political and spiritual leader of their latest alliance, a statuesque blonde to whom John thought Rodney had paid an embarrassing amount of attention.
Her speech had come with an almost completely powered ZPM, and a supply of natural fabric with waterproof qualities, which all seemed like gifts enough that Rodney just said "Thank you, we’re all very grateful," and didn’t question that last bit.
By the time they all figured out what she’d meant, it was too late. The damage was done.
It took almost a week before anyone believed Kavanaugh‘s complaints were more than his usual. First, he’d gone to Carson with symptoms of food poisoning -- leading into a tirade about the new cook that had come in on the last Daedelus run. The chef had trained at both CIAs, so that clearly wasn’t the problem. The next day, he’d been quite conciliatory, almost kind. It was a total mood swing.
"If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were --" Dr Beckett started. He didn’t finish his thought, instead running the portable scanner over him. "Pregnant." Rodney finished for him. He’d burned his hand on a crystal, and was waiting for Carson to check him out and release him.
"Yes, Rodney, as a matter of fact. Now give the man some privacy so we can figure out what’s really happening. Obviously this Ancient contraption isn’t calibrated correctly." He closed the curtain between them.
The whining started when John woke up. Actually, before John woke up. And it was Rodney doing most of the complaining, which was odd, because by all rights it should have been Kavanaugh. Not that John normally woke up to Kavanaugh’s whining. But he had a way of making his dissatisfaction known, no matter the hour.
"I don’t believe it," Rodney said, not for the first time. Not for the fifteenth time, either. The story had been the talk of Atlantis for the past two months. The birth looked like it was going to happen soon, the gift apparently included accelerated growth. It was all kind of creepy, as was the thought of a smaller version of the child’s father, greasy haired and sanctimonious.
"This is the Pegasus galaxy, home of life sucking vampires and Amish people with machine guns. What’s not to believe?" John cut the complaint out with a kiss, morning breath be damned.
"That’s not what I meant." Rodney tried to explain, but John wasn‘t amenable to much discussion beyond "lower" or "yes, just like that.".
"What, then?" John distracted him some more by nibbling down Rodney’s collarbone.
"It’s just - yeah, that’s nice -- it’s Kavanaugh."
"And it would be less weird if it was someone else?"
"Well, yes."
"You should thank God it wasn’t you.." John went to work on a nipple.
"Hello, no longer any kind of virgin here." Rodney arched up into the touch. "Thanks to you."
"Heh, yeah. Good point.So what are you bitching about? I would have thought you’d find this fascinating."
"The man already thinks he’s a God. He’s going to be even more insufferable."
Speaking of insufferable, John thought uncharitably, before distracting Rodney’s rant the best way he knew how.