Here's the aforementioned commentary on
the DADT thing: it's not a repeal, and it's for sure going to be challenged. but it's absolutely a step in the right direction. I'm really, really happy about this. I feel like this was kind of a milestone, even though I was pretty sure it was going to happen sooner or later... it just feels good right now
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Not that he doesn't look like a damned fool at this moment, but he's surprised they don't know he's about an inch from reassigning them both to sewer duty over Gate duty for the rest of their tours if they don't wipe those smirks off their faces.
They both stand down, still grinning, and he turns to see Woolsey, who lifts a hand to stop him from retreating toward the locker room and a much-needed shower.
"Sir, I'm pleased to report a successful hunting mission," John says tiredly, waving at Portmann, who's dragging the cooler-on-wheels McKay rigged for them. "And if you'll excuse me-"
"Not just yet, Colonel. We seem have a little situation with Staff Sergeant Michaelson..." Woolsey coughs delicately. "There are reports he's been running around the barracks ever since the dial-in earlier and-"
There's a loud whoop and Michaelson comes charging into the Gate room, but instead of the men taking defensive positions they all burst out in snickers. Before John has a chance to react, Michaelson grabs Peters and lands a big, wet smooch directly on Peters' lips and then releases him and spins around.
"Michaelson!" John yells.
Peters snorts and makes a show of rubbing his face with his sleeve.
"Sir!" Michaelson salutes. "Did you hear? A federal judge has ordered the military to stop enforcing the 'don't ask, don't tell' regs."
"No, Staff Sergeant, I hadn't heard," John says as patiently as he can, because what the fuck? "I was out skinning dinner." He gestures at the purple borgrash guts coating his TAC vest.
"You look just fine to me, sir."
John sees the twinkle in Michaelson's eyes a hair too late, and barely gets his hands up to prevent full body contact before Michaelson has grabbed him and is planting one on him.
Actually, Michaelson isn't a bad kisser.
The whole Gate room erupts in a combination of loud cheering and outraged laughter, with a couple of oorahs thrown in. By the time Michaelson releases him, John's face is hot and Michaelson's front is painted purple as well.
And Ronon is chuckling next to them, a deep, delighted laugh. He hardly ever laughs like that, and it makes John's heart do some impossible acrobatics in his chest. Because he's getting a totally crazy idea in his head; he doesn't really understand what this means, really, if whatever this judge has done will have any real effect, or if what the President has been working on with Congress will ever come through for the two of them, but he thinks, what the hell.
John turns and says, "What the heck are you laughing at?" and sees Ronon smile when he gets it, then John grabs Ronon by the collar of his jacket and leans up to kiss those lips that he loves so much, right there, right in front of God and everyone. And maybe they're all laughing, but they're cheering too.
It feels like it's real. And for that one moment, maybe it is.
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fantastic ficlet, thanks for sharing
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