[Stargate: Drabble] "Reactions" [John/Rodney, G]
Title: Reactions
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Prompt: mcsheplets challenge 253 ‘explode’
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Setting: part of my How About Forever ‘verse
Summary: Rodney is very specifically not to help with Zoe’s science project.
Reactions
“Dad, you’re too close again,” said Zoe, barely looking up from her work.
“Am not,” Rodney protested, even as he slid his toes back across the dividing line between the carpeted living room and the metal-floored kitchen.
“You agreed not to help,” said John. He leaned against the kitchen cabinet, arching one eyebrow at his husband over the rim of his coffee mug, but his expression softened immediately, the way it always did when he saw Rodney carrying their son in the Athosian baby sling Teyla had given them. “At all.”
“I’m not helping, I’m observing,” said Rodney. “I haven’t said anything, have I?”
The question was directed at seven-month-old Isaac, who gazed back up at his father with wide hazel eyes and burbled happily.
“Ike is not a reliable alibi,” said John. “Zoe, do you need any help yet?”
“Nope!” his daughter replied. She added another strip of paper mache to her volcano, leaned back to assess her progress, then reached for another. “I’m fine.”
“Aren’t you at least going to test the reaction?” Rodney pressed. “Find the right mix of vinegar and baking soda?”
“No helping, Dad,” she repeated. “I have to get this right first. It has to look like a real volcano. I might as well just do the reaction in a bottle if there’s not going to be any art to it.”
“Art?” Rodney spluttered. “This is what we get for letting Lorne teach our daughter how to paint. He’s turning her into an artist!”
“Zoe can be whatever she wants when she grows up,” said John, pointedly, “even an artist, and we will love and support her.”
“What?” said Rodney. “Yes, yes, of course we’ll love her. But an artist, Sheppard?”
“Whatever she wants,” John repeated. “And so can Ike.”
“Fine,” Rodney huffed.
“Done!” said Zoe, taking a step back. “How does that look, Mom?”
John was male again, after having Isaac and then breastfeeding for a few months, but Rodney had taught Zoe to call him that when she’d learned how to talk, and he really couldn’t stop her now.
“Looks great,” he assured her. “Just like a volcano.”
“Cool,” said Zoe. “It has to dry for a couple of hours, then we can paint it.”
“Painting,” Rodney said, dryly. “Yay.”
“Play nice, McKay,” said John, grinning, then reached out a foot to nudge Zoe’s. “But maybe you could indulge your dad a little bit, Zee? Test your chemical ratios?”
His daughter shrugged. “We do have to wait for it to dry,” she said. “But you don’t help, Dad!”
“Oh, but Mom can help?” Rodney pouted.
“Mom doesn’t touch things he’s not supposed to,” said Zoe.
Rodney snorted a laugh. “You have no idea how hilarious that is.”
“Hey!” John protested, but he was smiling. “C’mon, let’s show your dad how this works.”
Zoe did seem to know the theory behind this experiment. She measured the baking soda, then the orange-dyed vinegar with a practiced hand, only needing John to steady the bottle for her. After tipping the vinegar in, she took a step back and watched as it foamed, spilling down the sides of the plastic bottle in a perfect simulated eruption.
“Nice,” said John. “This’ll look great in your volcano.”
“Thanks, Mom,” said Zoe, then looked over at Rodney. “What did you think, Dad?”
“Oh, now you want my help?” he said, but she could see the smile he was fighting.
“Dad…”
“It’s great, Zoe,” he said. “You’ll be a great scientist someday.”
“Or an artist,” she said.
Rodney sighed. “Or an artist,” he agreed, reluctantly, and his family all laughed.
THE END
Current Mood:
aggravated
Author: Ami Ven
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Prompt: mcsheplets challenge 253 ‘explode’
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Setting: part of my How About Forever ‘verse
Summary: Rodney is very specifically not to help with Zoe’s science project.
Reactions
“Dad, you’re too close again,” said Zoe, barely looking up from her work.
“Am not,” Rodney protested, even as he slid his toes back across the dividing line between the carpeted living room and the metal-floored kitchen.
“You agreed not to help,” said John. He leaned against the kitchen cabinet, arching one eyebrow at his husband over the rim of his coffee mug, but his expression softened immediately, the way it always did when he saw Rodney carrying their son in the Athosian baby sling Teyla had given them. “At all.”
“I’m not helping, I’m observing,” said Rodney. “I haven’t said anything, have I?”
The question was directed at seven-month-old Isaac, who gazed back up at his father with wide hazel eyes and burbled happily.
“Ike is not a reliable alibi,” said John. “Zoe, do you need any help yet?”
“Nope!” his daughter replied. She added another strip of paper mache to her volcano, leaned back to assess her progress, then reached for another. “I’m fine.”
“Aren’t you at least going to test the reaction?” Rodney pressed. “Find the right mix of vinegar and baking soda?”
“No helping, Dad,” she repeated. “I have to get this right first. It has to look like a real volcano. I might as well just do the reaction in a bottle if there’s not going to be any art to it.”
“Art?” Rodney spluttered. “This is what we get for letting Lorne teach our daughter how to paint. He’s turning her into an artist!”
“Zoe can be whatever she wants when she grows up,” said John, pointedly, “even an artist, and we will love and support her.”
“What?” said Rodney. “Yes, yes, of course we’ll love her. But an artist, Sheppard?”
“Whatever she wants,” John repeated. “And so can Ike.”
“Fine,” Rodney huffed.
“Done!” said Zoe, taking a step back. “How does that look, Mom?”
John was male again, after having Isaac and then breastfeeding for a few months, but Rodney had taught Zoe to call him that when she’d learned how to talk, and he really couldn’t stop her now.
“Looks great,” he assured her. “Just like a volcano.”
“Cool,” said Zoe. “It has to dry for a couple of hours, then we can paint it.”
“Painting,” Rodney said, dryly. “Yay.”
“Play nice, McKay,” said John, grinning, then reached out a foot to nudge Zoe’s. “But maybe you could indulge your dad a little bit, Zee? Test your chemical ratios?”
His daughter shrugged. “We do have to wait for it to dry,” she said. “But you don’t help, Dad!”
“Oh, but Mom can help?” Rodney pouted.
“Mom doesn’t touch things he’s not supposed to,” said Zoe.
Rodney snorted a laugh. “You have no idea how hilarious that is.”
“Hey!” John protested, but he was smiling. “C’mon, let’s show your dad how this works.”
Zoe did seem to know the theory behind this experiment. She measured the baking soda, then the orange-dyed vinegar with a practiced hand, only needing John to steady the bottle for her. After tipping the vinegar in, she took a step back and watched as it foamed, spilling down the sides of the plastic bottle in a perfect simulated eruption.
“Nice,” said John. “This’ll look great in your volcano.”
“Thanks, Mom,” said Zoe, then looked over at Rodney. “What did you think, Dad?”
“Oh, now you want my help?” he said, but she could see the smile he was fighting.
“Dad…”
“It’s great, Zoe,” he said. “You’ll be a great scientist someday.”
“Or an artist,” she said.
Rodney sighed. “Or an artist,” he agreed, reluctantly, and his family all laughed.
THE END
Current Mood:
aggravated