Bleh! Okay, as of right now, I'm taking a break from being grumpy. Let's do something fun to celebrate the end of SGA, huh? Let's do some squee
( Read more... )
I will be glad to make such a thing! And I'll even use the icon that demonstrates the Rodney/Sam assgrabbing that punk was talking about earlier. :)
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Sam's office is still littered with half-empty boxes and stacks of teetering, unshelved books, but already it has a different feel than it did when Woolsey occupied it, or Colonel Ellis after him, or that thankfully brief period after Ellis when John had taken resentful temporary command. Seeing Sam puttering around the place brings back memories for Rodney, memories of her first command here when they'd all been so much younger (he thinks), so much newer to the city and each other. Rodney smiles a little ruefully as he knocks on the open door. He's transported back in time by the messy blonde braid on the back of Sam's neck, hastily plaited to keep it out of her way.
Sam looks up at his knock, and smiles. "Hey, Rodney. Come to welcome me back?"
"Mmmm, not that I wouldn't be glad to have you here otherwise, but the fact that you're getting Sheppard away from bureaucracy and back offworld is a blessing all by itself."
She arches an eyebrow. "He better get used to it eventually." Rodney knows that she's thinking of herself, her own retirement from offworld exploration. He never used to think that he would sympathise with that, would dread that time in the future when he will stop stepping through the gate and retire to pure research, but he's not the man he used to be.
"Yes, well. Are you coming down to the party? It's getting late." It is; Atlantis's lights have dimmed, and even the gateroom is quiet. Everyone is down in the messhall. Standing here in Sam's office - Elizabeth's, Woolsey's, Ellis's, John's - is like standing slightly out of time, in their own little pocket of the universe. This isn't surprising; the laws of physics have always bent to accomodate them both, and the gravitational curve of spacetime is surely no different.
"Yeah, I'll come down soon, Rodney, I promise." The way that Sam flicks a piece of hair out of her eyes, just in that moment, makes Rodney want to touch her, in the same constant way he's always wanted to touch her, so he steps forward a pace or two and holds out his hand.
"Anyway," he says. "Welcome back, Sam."
She takes his hand in hers, and shakes it firmly, warmly. Then she bends forward and pecks him on the cheek, just like she did all those years ago when they'd shot a stargate into space together. The deja vu is almost overwhelming, echoing back to him over fifteen years of rivalry and hatred and lust and friendship. He learned years ago that they had no future together - even the alternate universes seemed to bear this out - but suddenly he feels heavy with the realisation that this, here, is their moment, maybe their only moment, and so he makes bold to tilt her chin up with his hand, gently, wonderingly. She tilts her head a little, and then they're both moving forward into a warm kiss that brings them, finally, full-circle. Sam kisses him, and he kisses Sam, and there was a time even ten years ago when he would've thought it sexy, hot, arousing, but this kiss, now, is something else: sensual, full, expanding to fill the space they occupy.
It goes on for a long time, or maybe only for a second, or maybe both, and everything in between: in infinite universes, he thinks, every possibility comes to pass.
Then they pull back, and she smiles at him, her old friend, and he squeezes her hand once in his before turning and walking out to the hall.
He pauses with one hand against the doorframe, and turns back one more time. "Come to the party, Sam," he says. "We missed you around here."
Sam nods, her eyes locked with his. "I'll be down in a minute," she says.
Aw. That's just so gentle and pretty. I like the idea that Rodney has changed such that he can share this with her and not take it as license to push or pester, just appreciating the moment-- and that Sam sees the changes and trusts him now enough to respond like this. ♥
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Sam's office is still littered with half-empty boxes and stacks of teetering, unshelved books, but already it has a different feel than it did when Woolsey occupied it, or Colonel Ellis after him, or that thankfully brief period after Ellis when John had taken resentful temporary command. Seeing Sam puttering around the place brings back memories for Rodney, memories of her first command here when they'd all been so much younger (he thinks), so much newer to the city and each other. Rodney smiles a little ruefully as he knocks on the open door. He's transported back in time by the messy blonde braid on the back of Sam's neck, hastily plaited to keep it out of her way.
Sam looks up at his knock, and smiles. "Hey, Rodney. Come to welcome me back?"
"Mmmm, not that I wouldn't be glad to have you here otherwise, but the fact that you're getting Sheppard away from bureaucracy and back offworld is a blessing all by itself."
She arches an eyebrow. "He better get used to it eventually." Rodney knows that she's thinking of herself, her own retirement from offworld exploration. He never used to think that he would sympathise with that, would dread that time in the future when he will stop stepping through the gate and retire to pure research, but he's not the man he used to be.
"Yes, well. Are you coming down to the party? It's getting late." It is; Atlantis's lights have dimmed, and even the gateroom is quiet. Everyone is down in the messhall. Standing here in Sam's office - Elizabeth's, Woolsey's, Ellis's, John's - is like standing slightly out of time, in their own little pocket of the universe. This isn't surprising; the laws of physics have always bent to accomodate them both, and the gravitational curve of spacetime is surely no different.
"Yeah, I'll come down soon, Rodney, I promise." The way that Sam flicks a piece of hair out of her eyes, just in that moment, makes Rodney want to touch her, in the same constant way he's always wanted to touch her, so he steps forward a pace or two and holds out his hand.
"Anyway," he says. "Welcome back, Sam."
She takes his hand in hers, and shakes it firmly, warmly. Then she bends forward and pecks him on the cheek, just like she did all those years ago when they'd shot a stargate into space together. The deja vu is almost overwhelming, echoing back to him over fifteen years of rivalry and hatred and lust and friendship. He learned years ago that they had no future together - even the alternate universes seemed to bear this out - but suddenly he feels heavy with the realisation that this, here, is their moment, maybe their only moment, and so he makes bold to tilt her chin up with his hand, gently, wonderingly. She tilts her head a little, and then they're both moving forward into a warm kiss that brings them, finally, full-circle. Sam kisses him, and he kisses Sam, and there was a time even ten years ago when he would've thought it sexy, hot, arousing, but this kiss, now, is something else: sensual, full, expanding to fill the space they occupy.
It goes on for a long time, or maybe only for a second, or maybe both, and everything in between: in infinite universes, he thinks, every possibility comes to pass.
Then they pull back, and she smiles at him, her old friend, and he squeezes her hand once in his before turning and walking out to the hall.
He pauses with one hand against the doorframe, and turns back one more time. "Come to the party, Sam," he says. "We missed you around here."
Sam nods, her eyes locked with his. "I'll be down in a minute," she says.
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