Fic: Chicks Dig Scars ("Trio" Tag)
My second-ever episode tag. Whee! I should wait until tomorrow to post it, but I have the patience of a gnat.
Title: Chicks Dig Scars
Author: argosy
Pairing: McKay/Keller-ish, McKay/Sheppard
Word count: 1250
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 4.16 "Trio," a little "Quarantine."
Summary: Jennifer and Rodney get that beer. John is displeased.
It wasn't until the bottom half of his second beer with Jennifer that Rodney finally gave up. Her hands were in better shape anyway; Rodney's fingers had curled up into painful little astrophysicist claws about an hour after their return from M5V-801 and frozen that way. Jennifer assured him they'd feel better tomorrow.
Jennifer, whose own hands looked painful, though not nearly as bad as his--she'd only had to support her own weight on the rope, after all; Rodney had been responsible for everyone--had offered from the beginning to hold his bottle for him while he drank. Rodney had refused on the grounds of not actually being six months old, but after he'd spilled most of his first beer onto his shirt, his pants, and somehow his hair, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.
Jennifer had found them a little-used balcony off one of the common areas in the East Pier, and had even provided a six-pack--which was tasteless and American, but still beer. Rodney found himself revising his mental assessment of her from 'squeaky and intermittently irritating' to 'not-so-bad.' He supposed after you saved someone's life it was easier to see the good in them. That went a long way toward explaining his improbable friendship with Sheppard.
And Jennifer had listened to his Neil deGrasse Tyson story and had asked intelligent questions and agreed that the man was a no-good dirty thief, which was more than Sheppard or Sam had ever done. This, Rodney considered, could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, and if your friends couldn't hand-feed you beer, then who could?
Hmm. It was entirely possible Rodney had managed to drink more of the alcohol than he'd thought.
He said as much to Jennifer, who giggled--which Rodney was sure he would have found irritating not twenty-four hours previously--and ducked her head in a move he'd thought Sheppard held the copyright to. "Well," she said. "I can say with medical authority that alcohol is an effective pain reliever when used in moderation. Do your hands still hurt?"
Rodney thought about it seriously. "Not so much," he said finally.
"Good." She nodded. "It's working."
Maybe she wasn't completely in control of her own hands after all, because when she held the bottle to his mouth again her thumb grazed his bottom lip softly. He jerked slightly in surprise and beer splashed on his cheek and chin.
"Sorry," she said, and laughed again before leaning in to swipe the liquid away with the same thumb. Her hands were warm. She was biting her lip, he noticed.
Suddenly Jennifer yanked her hands away from his face and Rodney found himself with a cold lapful of quickly-spreading liquid. "What the hell?" he asked, sputtering, before he registered the sound of a throat clearing loudly and looked up to see a glowering Sheppard.
"Sheppard!" Rodney said, happy to see him even if he was making a face like he had a stomach ache; Sheppard had yet to hear the story of how Rodney had gotten manly hand-wounds in the course of saving the lives of not one but two beautiful blondes. "Jennifer and I were just having a beer." He nodded toward an empty seat in invitation.
"Colonel Sheppard," Jennifer said, not sounding nearly as happy for some reason. "How did you find us?"
Sheppard waved the life-signs detector he carried in one hand. That and the sour look on his face could only mean one thing.
Rodney sighed. "What's the emergency? Did Radek overload the bipolar transistors again?" He lowered his voice. "Sam doesn't like him, you know."
"Nothing like that, Rodney." John sat down slowly and oozed into a slouch. Did the man have any bones at all? "I was just passing by."
"On the East Pier?" Jennifer sounded skeptical.
John glared at her, which seemed unfair--Rodney was skeptical of at least a third of the things that came out of Sheppard's mouth too. "Also," Sheppard continued. "Ronon is looking for you, Doctor Keller. I don't know why."
Jennifer turned white and swallowed hard. Rodney understood. Ronon could be intimidating to the newbies. It was the hair.
Somehow or other Sheppard and Jennifer seemed to have spontaneously decided to hold a staring contest without inviting Rodney. Which was odd, to say the least, and Rodney could have told Jennifer she didn't stand a chance against Sheppard's well-practiced thousand-yard gaze.
Eventually she coughed, and stood. "I'll just go see what Ronon wants, then."
"You do that." Sheppard nodded.
"Okay." She gave Rodney a little wave with her damaged right hand and was off through the sliding balcony doors.
And suddenly John was turning the glare on him, which was so unfair that Rodney was momentarily speechless. What had he done? He was a hero. He'd saved lives.
The glare was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, and John helped himself to the last unopened beer. "I didn't think you liked her," he said.
Rodney took the opening. "Well," he said. "Turns out when you save someone's life, like I did today--"
"And I didn't know she liked you," Sheppard muttered darkly.
"Excuse me? I'll have you know, Colonel, that lots of people like me. Just because we can't all be Mister Popularity, doesn't mean that--"
John shook his head, smiling in a way that had nothing to do with good cheer. "She likes you, Rodney."
"Well, of course she does. Didn't I just say that--oh." His stomach leapt into his throat so fast he nearly choked. "No, she--really?"
Sheppard nodded.
Well. Wasn't that just--"Really?"
"Really."
Rodney could feel his brain attacking the new information. It made him a little dizzy after the beer. "Well," he said to gather his thoughts. "She's really--pretty--isn't she? Her hair always smells nice. And she does have a doctorate even if it is in medicine. She likes me? Really? Is it too soon after Katie, do you think? How do I--I mean, if it was you, what would you--She likes me, hmm?"
Rodney felt a smile starting to grow. Attractive blondes should like him. It didn't happen nearly often enough.
"Rodney." The glare was back, but it couldn't spoil his good mood.
"So what do I do? I mean--she likes me, so we can--date, right? I should, um, ask her out?" Sheppard just looked blank. The least he could do was help Rodney out a little so he didn't blow it with Jennifer by babbling at her, or proposing or something.
"No. Absolutely not." John was suddenly in his space, perfectly healthy hands gripping his shoulders hard. He seemed to be having a staring contest with Rodney now.
"Sheppard." Rodney swallowed. "Have you considered seeing Jennifer about these mood swings of yours?"
Sheppard stared a moment longer, then made a noise in the back of his throat and lunged forward, slamming his lips gracelessly against Rodney's.
"Ow," Rodney said into Sheppard's mouth. And then John was kissing him, really kissing him, with his tongue in his mouth and his hands clutching Rodney's shoulders, pulling him close.
Oh.
Well.
That--actually made a hell of a lot of sense. Rodney generously decided to ignore the fact that it had taken John's weird homicidal jealousy to spur him to act in favor of kissing John back, licking his bottom lip, sucking a little on his tongue.
Rodney thought it was all going pretty well until John pulled back and stared seriously at him.
"What?" Rodney asked finally, fidgeting.
"You can't date Keller."
"Yeah," Rodney said, licking John's ear. "I got that."
"Just so we're clear," John said, and kissed him again.
End
Title: Chicks Dig Scars
Author: argosy
Pairing: McKay/Keller-ish, McKay/Sheppard
Word count: 1250
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 4.16 "Trio," a little "Quarantine."
Summary: Jennifer and Rodney get that beer. John is displeased.
It wasn't until the bottom half of his second beer with Jennifer that Rodney finally gave up. Her hands were in better shape anyway; Rodney's fingers had curled up into painful little astrophysicist claws about an hour after their return from M5V-801 and frozen that way. Jennifer assured him they'd feel better tomorrow.
Jennifer, whose own hands looked painful, though not nearly as bad as his--she'd only had to support her own weight on the rope, after all; Rodney had been responsible for everyone--had offered from the beginning to hold his bottle for him while he drank. Rodney had refused on the grounds of not actually being six months old, but after he'd spilled most of his first beer onto his shirt, his pants, and somehow his hair, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.
Jennifer had found them a little-used balcony off one of the common areas in the East Pier, and had even provided a six-pack--which was tasteless and American, but still beer. Rodney found himself revising his mental assessment of her from 'squeaky and intermittently irritating' to 'not-so-bad.' He supposed after you saved someone's life it was easier to see the good in them. That went a long way toward explaining his improbable friendship with Sheppard.
And Jennifer had listened to his Neil deGrasse Tyson story and had asked intelligent questions and agreed that the man was a no-good dirty thief, which was more than Sheppard or Sam had ever done. This, Rodney considered, could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, and if your friends couldn't hand-feed you beer, then who could?
Hmm. It was entirely possible Rodney had managed to drink more of the alcohol than he'd thought.
He said as much to Jennifer, who giggled--which Rodney was sure he would have found irritating not twenty-four hours previously--and ducked her head in a move he'd thought Sheppard held the copyright to. "Well," she said. "I can say with medical authority that alcohol is an effective pain reliever when used in moderation. Do your hands still hurt?"
Rodney thought about it seriously. "Not so much," he said finally.
"Good." She nodded. "It's working."
Maybe she wasn't completely in control of her own hands after all, because when she held the bottle to his mouth again her thumb grazed his bottom lip softly. He jerked slightly in surprise and beer splashed on his cheek and chin.
"Sorry," she said, and laughed again before leaning in to swipe the liquid away with the same thumb. Her hands were warm. She was biting her lip, he noticed.
Suddenly Jennifer yanked her hands away from his face and Rodney found himself with a cold lapful of quickly-spreading liquid. "What the hell?" he asked, sputtering, before he registered the sound of a throat clearing loudly and looked up to see a glowering Sheppard.
"Sheppard!" Rodney said, happy to see him even if he was making a face like he had a stomach ache; Sheppard had yet to hear the story of how Rodney had gotten manly hand-wounds in the course of saving the lives of not one but two beautiful blondes. "Jennifer and I were just having a beer." He nodded toward an empty seat in invitation.
"Colonel Sheppard," Jennifer said, not sounding nearly as happy for some reason. "How did you find us?"
Sheppard waved the life-signs detector he carried in one hand. That and the sour look on his face could only mean one thing.
Rodney sighed. "What's the emergency? Did Radek overload the bipolar transistors again?" He lowered his voice. "Sam doesn't like him, you know."
"Nothing like that, Rodney." John sat down slowly and oozed into a slouch. Did the man have any bones at all? "I was just passing by."
"On the East Pier?" Jennifer sounded skeptical.
John glared at her, which seemed unfair--Rodney was skeptical of at least a third of the things that came out of Sheppard's mouth too. "Also," Sheppard continued. "Ronon is looking for you, Doctor Keller. I don't know why."
Jennifer turned white and swallowed hard. Rodney understood. Ronon could be intimidating to the newbies. It was the hair.
Somehow or other Sheppard and Jennifer seemed to have spontaneously decided to hold a staring contest without inviting Rodney. Which was odd, to say the least, and Rodney could have told Jennifer she didn't stand a chance against Sheppard's well-practiced thousand-yard gaze.
Eventually she coughed, and stood. "I'll just go see what Ronon wants, then."
"You do that." Sheppard nodded.
"Okay." She gave Rodney a little wave with her damaged right hand and was off through the sliding balcony doors.
And suddenly John was turning the glare on him, which was so unfair that Rodney was momentarily speechless. What had he done? He was a hero. He'd saved lives.
The glare was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, and John helped himself to the last unopened beer. "I didn't think you liked her," he said.
Rodney took the opening. "Well," he said. "Turns out when you save someone's life, like I did today--"
"And I didn't know she liked you," Sheppard muttered darkly.
"Excuse me? I'll have you know, Colonel, that lots of people like me. Just because we can't all be Mister Popularity, doesn't mean that--"
John shook his head, smiling in a way that had nothing to do with good cheer. "She likes you, Rodney."
"Well, of course she does. Didn't I just say that--oh." His stomach leapt into his throat so fast he nearly choked. "No, she--really?"
Sheppard nodded.
Well. Wasn't that just--"Really?"
"Really."
Rodney could feel his brain attacking the new information. It made him a little dizzy after the beer. "Well," he said to gather his thoughts. "She's really--pretty--isn't she? Her hair always smells nice. And she does have a doctorate even if it is in medicine. She likes me? Really? Is it too soon after Katie, do you think? How do I--I mean, if it was you, what would you--She likes me, hmm?"
Rodney felt a smile starting to grow. Attractive blondes should like him. It didn't happen nearly often enough.
"Rodney." The glare was back, but it couldn't spoil his good mood.
"So what do I do? I mean--she likes me, so we can--date, right? I should, um, ask her out?" Sheppard just looked blank. The least he could do was help Rodney out a little so he didn't blow it with Jennifer by babbling at her, or proposing or something.
"No. Absolutely not." John was suddenly in his space, perfectly healthy hands gripping his shoulders hard. He seemed to be having a staring contest with Rodney now.
"Sheppard." Rodney swallowed. "Have you considered seeing Jennifer about these mood swings of yours?"
Sheppard stared a moment longer, then made a noise in the back of his throat and lunged forward, slamming his lips gracelessly against Rodney's.
"Ow," Rodney said into Sheppard's mouth. And then John was kissing him, really kissing him, with his tongue in his mouth and his hands clutching Rodney's shoulders, pulling him close.
Oh.
Well.
That--actually made a hell of a lot of sense. Rodney generously decided to ignore the fact that it had taken John's weird homicidal jealousy to spur him to act in favor of kissing John back, licking his bottom lip, sucking a little on his tongue.
Rodney thought it was all going pretty well until John pulled back and stared seriously at him.
"What?" Rodney asked finally, fidgeting.
"You can't date Keller."
"Yeah," Rodney said, licking John's ear. "I got that."
"Just so we're clear," John said, and kissed him again.
End