Fic: Checkmate 'Verse: Space & Time, post-series
Title: Space & Time
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Animal transformation, crack!fic, slash.
Spoilers: Post-main series, post-rehumanizing
Disclaimer: Not mine at all, sadly.
Unbeta'd
Summary: Now that's John's human and they're together, Rodney worries. Of course he does. (Timekeepers: this falls between The Road Home pt V and Stretch.)
Written for the emergency mcsmooch festival. When my captain calls, I must answer.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Perhaps, ”Radek cleared his throat diplomatically,” you should take some time to remove Colonel Sheppard’s effects from your quarters. ”
Rodney at him glared over the lab table. He hadn’t been staring at his screen for that long.
“Because,” Radek continued gently, “if you don’t, I am going to beat you over the head with my computer.”
“Fine,” Rodney replied sulkily. “I can tell you’re going to be absolutely no help today. I think I’m going to work in my quarters for a while. Maybe get a bite to eat.”
Radek waved a “yes, go away,” hand at him. Rodney packed up.
“Hey, wait a minute. Where’s his box?”
Radek looked at him over his glasses. “I took the shirt to be washed and put the box in storage. A fresh start. Besides, he will now not be fitting, yes? Must use stool when he visits.”
Wiping a hand across his face, Rodney sighed. “Right. I’m a little…”
“Yes. A long mission, very stressful. Go fuss somewhere else. Tell Colonel death match chess tomorrow night. He plays alone! No help from peanut gallery.”
“Jealous?” Rodney teased.
“Was hard to when both of you had such obvious joy… playing pain-in-the-ass chess,” Radek said kindly, gaze very direct.
Feeling suddenly shy, Rodney gathered up his things. “Yes, well, um. See to it you’re in a better frame of mind to work tomorrow.”
Again, Radek looked over his glasses, his eyes twinkling with pure evil. “I will try.”
~*~*~*~*~
As he put a fresh blanket on the bed - a small black streak of lightning squeaking and tumbling in his memory - Rodney pondered the nature of time.
Today? Currently lasting approximately twice as long as usual. Yesterday? Moved in strange, jumpy blocks of too slow or too fast or long stretches like warm, slow honey. Terribly subjective, but he thought he might have an idea about how to map out the phenomenon.
When he stood after tucking in the blanket, he got a bit of a headrush thinking of John moving above him in the late afternoon sun, eyes green, hazy with pleasure. Rodney groaned and sat on the end of the bed. He still couldn’t believe his luck.
Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen one another since the post-mission infirmary visit when Carson had accused him of hovering.
“Ya no longer need to translate for him, lad.” Carson had huffed, his brogue thick. “He speaks English now.”
“Yeah,” John drawled like an idiot child. (Although he’d greeted his adoring throngs perfectly well when they came through the gate.) “But. Words. Some. Hav-ing. Trouble?”
“Really?” Carson said breathily, fumbling for his chart. One look full of mischief from John and it had been necessary to flee before he burst out in somewhat hysterical laughter. That had been late afternoon and now it was way past dinnertime.
There had been plenty to keep Rodney busy until John was free from Carson’s clutches or Lorne’s mountains of paperwork or Elizabeth probably wanting to get him up to speed although he had been here the entire time. He had to admit, finally, he missed his little black shadow.
And he really really wanted to see John. Not that he had any doubts about the nature of their relationship now. Not after hearing John’s voice warm and certain, say so and the way he reached for Rodney, over and over again, on Gata. He was sure of John. Sure of them.
Except for maybe things were going to really completely different and potentially awkward until they got things worked out and it would be fine. He knew it would be fine. Really.
Could he call John to ask where he was or what he was doing and would he mind doing whatever he was doing somewhere like right here? With him?
Come to think of it, John could have checked in just as easily. A knot formed in Rodney’s stomach, even though he knew it was stupid. After spending a month nearly joined at the hip, of course John would want some space and time to himself. Even if they were…wouldn’t he? Rodney thought he might, if he were in John’s shoes.
He was really very bad at dating. Rodney knew this. Or having relationships in general, except for, evidently, cats. He got up and started gathering John’s toys and putting away things John wasn't going to need, like his grooming kit and his dish. He held the bunny bed for a long moment, staring into its plastic eyes, before putting it back on his desk. He had no idea what to do with it. He caught himself stroking its ears and gave himself a shake.
He zoned out at the sink with the little Athosian ceramic water dish that John had used, watching the water rinse the suds away. He stood there, mind blank, simply watching the way the water flowed over the small blue and ochre bowl. How it split and curled over the curve of the bottom and ran through the wave-like patterns in the side. He could feel the coolness of bowl and water on his fingers, elementally soothing and musical as it slipped down into the basin.
Rodney had no idea what he was doing. Maybe he should go find John and check on him. Not that he would say he was checking on him, but just to see if he were settling in. He could do that. He could do that. Yes. He’d probably fallen asleep after Carson’s diabolical ministrations and was passed out on his bed in full uniform.
“Rodney?” John called from Rodney’s main quarters. Rodney nearly dropped the bowl.
“In here!”
John slouched through the doorway in sweats and a t-shirt, looking tired, but then he smiled that smile at Rodney, the one that made his eyes go green and Rodney’s heart flipped over.
“Hi,” John said shyly and rolled his eyes, indicating what kind of day he’d had.
“Hi. How long did it take Carson to figure out you were scamming him?”
John grimaced and rubbed the inside of his arm. “You know,” he said, “he has a awful lot of medical equipment. “
Rodney snorted. “Worth it?”
“Totally,” John said firmly. “I'd say we're even."
Smiling, Rodney turned off the water and shook out the dish before placing it on his counter to dry. John handed him a towel. Rodney could feel the heat of him, so close, and concentrated on keeping his hands steady.
“So whatcha doin now?” John asked softly.
Shrugging, Rodney came clean. “I don't know,” he said plaintively.
“Hey. Hey,” John said, taking a half-step closer and bringing their foreheads together, his hand warm and strong on the back of Rodney’s neck. “Me neither.” They stood together for a moment, breathing, until John cleared his throat.
“I went back to my room,” he confided in a low almost-whisper, “and it just felt wrong.” He rolled his forehead against Rodney’s.
“Yeah?” Rodney’s heart was beating a mile a minute. John was wearing sweats. Maybe he wanted to…Rodney stroked John’s sides slowly.
“Yeah,” John sighed, pulling him close. He kissed Rodney’s temple. “I brought some dinner.”
“Oh! Oh, dinner. That’s,” Rodney stepped back and tossed the towel on the counter, “excellent.”
John didn’t budge, but he did scratch the back of his neck, which set Rodney’s nerves on alert. “And after, I was wondering,” he glanced up at Rodney through devastating lashes, “if I could stay. Here.”
Not able to get his mouth to work, Rodney nodded a lot and grabbed John’s wrist. “Or,” he croaked, mostly to be polite, “we could stay at your place.”
“Rodney,” John whined, stepping forward to pull him into a kiss, soft and slow. “Here feels like home.”
Gasping, Rodney smiled into the kiss, while the universe slowed into long, lazy ribbons of relief.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Animal transformation, crack!fic, slash.
Spoilers: Post-main series, post-rehumanizing
Disclaimer: Not mine at all, sadly.
Unbeta'd
Summary: Now that's John's human and they're together, Rodney worries. Of course he does. (Timekeepers: this falls between The Road Home pt V and Stretch.)
Written for the emergency mcsmooch festival. When my captain calls, I must answer.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Perhaps, ”Radek cleared his throat diplomatically,” you should take some time to remove Colonel Sheppard’s effects from your quarters. ”
Rodney at him glared over the lab table. He hadn’t been staring at his screen for that long.
“Because,” Radek continued gently, “if you don’t, I am going to beat you over the head with my computer.”
“Fine,” Rodney replied sulkily. “I can tell you’re going to be absolutely no help today. I think I’m going to work in my quarters for a while. Maybe get a bite to eat.”
Radek waved a “yes, go away,” hand at him. Rodney packed up.
“Hey, wait a minute. Where’s his box?”
Radek looked at him over his glasses. “I took the shirt to be washed and put the box in storage. A fresh start. Besides, he will now not be fitting, yes? Must use stool when he visits.”
Wiping a hand across his face, Rodney sighed. “Right. I’m a little…”
“Yes. A long mission, very stressful. Go fuss somewhere else. Tell Colonel death match chess tomorrow night. He plays alone! No help from peanut gallery.”
“Jealous?” Rodney teased.
“Was hard to when both of you had such obvious joy… playing pain-in-the-ass chess,” Radek said kindly, gaze very direct.
Feeling suddenly shy, Rodney gathered up his things. “Yes, well, um. See to it you’re in a better frame of mind to work tomorrow.”
Again, Radek looked over his glasses, his eyes twinkling with pure evil. “I will try.”
~*~*~*~*~
As he put a fresh blanket on the bed - a small black streak of lightning squeaking and tumbling in his memory - Rodney pondered the nature of time.
Today? Currently lasting approximately twice as long as usual. Yesterday? Moved in strange, jumpy blocks of too slow or too fast or long stretches like warm, slow honey. Terribly subjective, but he thought he might have an idea about how to map out the phenomenon.
When he stood after tucking in the blanket, he got a bit of a headrush thinking of John moving above him in the late afternoon sun, eyes green, hazy with pleasure. Rodney groaned and sat on the end of the bed. He still couldn’t believe his luck.
Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen one another since the post-mission infirmary visit when Carson had accused him of hovering.
“Ya no longer need to translate for him, lad.” Carson had huffed, his brogue thick. “He speaks English now.”
“Yeah,” John drawled like an idiot child. (Although he’d greeted his adoring throngs perfectly well when they came through the gate.) “But. Words. Some. Hav-ing. Trouble?”
“Really?” Carson said breathily, fumbling for his chart. One look full of mischief from John and it had been necessary to flee before he burst out in somewhat hysterical laughter. That had been late afternoon and now it was way past dinnertime.
There had been plenty to keep Rodney busy until John was free from Carson’s clutches or Lorne’s mountains of paperwork or Elizabeth probably wanting to get him up to speed although he had been here the entire time. He had to admit, finally, he missed his little black shadow.
And he really really wanted to see John. Not that he had any doubts about the nature of their relationship now. Not after hearing John’s voice warm and certain, say so and the way he reached for Rodney, over and over again, on Gata. He was sure of John. Sure of them.
Except for maybe things were going to really completely different and potentially awkward until they got things worked out and it would be fine. He knew it would be fine. Really.
Could he call John to ask where he was or what he was doing and would he mind doing whatever he was doing somewhere like right here? With him?
Come to think of it, John could have checked in just as easily. A knot formed in Rodney’s stomach, even though he knew it was stupid. After spending a month nearly joined at the hip, of course John would want some space and time to himself. Even if they were…wouldn’t he? Rodney thought he might, if he were in John’s shoes.
He was really very bad at dating. Rodney knew this. Or having relationships in general, except for, evidently, cats. He got up and started gathering John’s toys and putting away things John wasn't going to need, like his grooming kit and his dish. He held the bunny bed for a long moment, staring into its plastic eyes, before putting it back on his desk. He had no idea what to do with it. He caught himself stroking its ears and gave himself a shake.
He zoned out at the sink with the little Athosian ceramic water dish that John had used, watching the water rinse the suds away. He stood there, mind blank, simply watching the way the water flowed over the small blue and ochre bowl. How it split and curled over the curve of the bottom and ran through the wave-like patterns in the side. He could feel the coolness of bowl and water on his fingers, elementally soothing and musical as it slipped down into the basin.
Rodney had no idea what he was doing. Maybe he should go find John and check on him. Not that he would say he was checking on him, but just to see if he were settling in. He could do that. He could do that. Yes. He’d probably fallen asleep after Carson’s diabolical ministrations and was passed out on his bed in full uniform.
“Rodney?” John called from Rodney’s main quarters. Rodney nearly dropped the bowl.
“In here!”
John slouched through the doorway in sweats and a t-shirt, looking tired, but then he smiled that smile at Rodney, the one that made his eyes go green and Rodney’s heart flipped over.
“Hi,” John said shyly and rolled his eyes, indicating what kind of day he’d had.
“Hi. How long did it take Carson to figure out you were scamming him?”
John grimaced and rubbed the inside of his arm. “You know,” he said, “he has a awful lot of medical equipment. “
Rodney snorted. “Worth it?”
“Totally,” John said firmly. “I'd say we're even."
Smiling, Rodney turned off the water and shook out the dish before placing it on his counter to dry. John handed him a towel. Rodney could feel the heat of him, so close, and concentrated on keeping his hands steady.
“So whatcha doin now?” John asked softly.
Shrugging, Rodney came clean. “I don't know,” he said plaintively.
“Hey. Hey,” John said, taking a half-step closer and bringing their foreheads together, his hand warm and strong on the back of Rodney’s neck. “Me neither.” They stood together for a moment, breathing, until John cleared his throat.
“I went back to my room,” he confided in a low almost-whisper, “and it just felt wrong.” He rolled his forehead against Rodney’s.
“Yeah?” Rodney’s heart was beating a mile a minute. John was wearing sweats. Maybe he wanted to…Rodney stroked John’s sides slowly.
“Yeah,” John sighed, pulling him close. He kissed Rodney’s temple. “I brought some dinner.”
“Oh! Oh, dinner. That’s,” Rodney stepped back and tossed the towel on the counter, “excellent.”
John didn’t budge, but he did scratch the back of his neck, which set Rodney’s nerves on alert. “And after, I was wondering,” he glanced up at Rodney through devastating lashes, “if I could stay. Here.”
Not able to get his mouth to work, Rodney nodded a lot and grabbed John’s wrist. “Or,” he croaked, mostly to be polite, “we could stay at your place.”
“Rodney,” John whined, stepping forward to pull him into a kiss, soft and slow. “Here feels like home.”
Gasping, Rodney smiled into the kiss, while the universe slowed into long, lazy ribbons of relief.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~