The door to John’s quarters opens without question. Rodney stands in the doorway, uncertain. Even in the softness of sleep, John’s face is closed off. The blue light of the city paints shadows over his eyelids.
Silent, so he won’t disturb John, Rodney closes the door and pads over to the bed. John’s bed, so stupidly small and narrow, like
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Um, love with an unholy passion? Seriously, the way I was fixing it in my head (that Katie is Rodney's willing beard, and that he really does care about her as a friend) doesn't even hold a candle to how beautiful this fic is. Thank you so much for sharing!
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