Fic: A Merry McShep Christmas 1/1 - PG
Title: A Merry McShep Christmas
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney/John
Genre: Crack, AU
Rating: PG
Summary: It’s nearly Christmas and Rodney is panicking. Don’t the other elves understand the pressure he’s under? Don’t they care? Well, perhaps there is one elf he can turn to: John Sheppard, Chief Toy Tester and dreamer.
Beta'd by my fav Kitty in the whole world, kitty_poker1
I hereby blame this bunny on amejisuto who deliberately and maliciously said "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if..." She owes me. ;o)
Evil, Rodney thought. It was less than a month until Christmas Eve and they weren’t even halfway close to producing all the toys they needed. This wouldn’t do. Rodney jangled the bell on his right foot in annoyance and several of the lesser elves scuttled away.
“Hello, Rodney,” Mrs Christmas greeted. “Problems?”
“Ah, Elizabeth.” Rodney gestured toward the nearest conveyor belt. “Would you look? It’ll be Easter before we get all this done in time.”
Elizabeth Christmas looked confused. She narrowed her eyes at the belt, at the worker elves and then turned back to her Chief Elf. “Everything looks fine to me.”
“Well, it would to you, yes, but it’s a lot more complicated than that!” Rodney snapped. What was wrong with everyone? Why couldn’t anyone understand? “There are dolls with no heads, barking dog with no barks, wheels on fire trucks that won’t turn and that’s not even brushing the surface of this Mickey Mouse operation. The worst part? We are twenty three percent down on production compared to last year.” He shook his head again and crossed his arms, tucking his hands and his PDA under his armpits. “This is a disaster.”
Elizabeth nodded next to him and followed Rodney’s gaze back down to the hustle and bustle below. “What can I do?”
“That’s just it. There is nothing you can do. Yet again, Caldwell has asked the impossible.”
“Rodney,” Elizabeth warned. “That’s Santa Caldwell to you.”
Rodney rolled his eyes and dropped his arms to the side. “Pardon me - Satan Caldwell.”
“Santa!”
“Whatever.” Rodney stiffened as his headset crackled and buzzed. He tapped his ear. “Yes. Very busy.”
“Elf McKay, can you come to the lab, please? We’ve got a problem.”
Rodney nodded tiredly and sighed. “Of course you do. Be right there.” He slung Elizabeth a poignant look as he brushed past her. “See? I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s just not possible.”
“It’ll be fine,” she called after him. “Try not to worry! Enjoy the holiday season!”
Rodney nearly told her what she could do with her holiday season.
**
“Oh, now what is this?” He couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Why did the world torture him so?
Kavanagh looked up from his work, a puzzled expression spread over his ugly mug. “What?”
“What?” Rodney repeated. “What do you mean what? What are you doing?! What is this?!”
Kavanagh leaned on the work bench and smiled that stupid smug, sarcastic smile that always made Rodney want to remove it with a jar of acid. “It’s paint?”
“It’s pink,” Rodney pointed out. “Did that small point escape you or has colour blindness recently been added to your list of ‘Things that Make You an Idiot’? Perhaps I missed that memo?”
“Are you crazy?” Kavanagh asked.
“Quite possibly, yes, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve mixed up a vat of pink paint when I asked for bright red!”
“It isn’t pink.”
“I’m telling you, it’s pink.”
“And I’m telling you it isn’t.”
“Don’t argue with me, Kavanagh. I’m the genius and I’m telling you that if you deliver that paint down to Arts we are going to end up with ten thousand pink fire trucks. Shipping will return it and Satan Caldwell will want to know why and, as usual, it’s my ass on the line.”
“It’s. Not. Pink.”
Rodney rubbed his hand over his forehead and fought the urge to go homicidal on Kavanagh’s ass. “Start over.”
“But-!”
“Just do it!” Rodney’s headset fizzled again.
“Elf McKay, we’ve got a problem in Parts.”
“Oh, for… I’m on my way.” Rodney turned his back on Kavanagh and stomped out of the room, his hat flinging backwards and flouncing with him. “And someone turn off that damn Christmas music!”
**
“You know, I would consider myself to be a very intelligent man, a genius, in fact. So would somebody please tell me how I could have made such a stunning misjudgement when I hired you imbeciles? Really, my cat could have done a better job, and you know what? He’s only got three legs.”
Lindstrom hung his head in pure shame, the weight of Rodney’s hard stare slowly pushing it further and further down. “I thought we had enough. It was enough last year.”
Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose and decidedly ignored the big basket of one-armed Air Force Andys. When he spoke it was with the patience of a man who was being repeatedly poked with a pointy finger. “Stargate: Atlantis is this year’s biggest hit. All over the world. Only the insane, the idiotic or the dead would ever think that fifty thousand plastic arms were going to cut it.”
“But-”
“Seventy five thousand minimum. And, oh, please tell me the miniature P-90s are working?”
“Uh…”
Rodney’s eyes saucered like never before and he thanked Frosty that he’d never learned any kung-fu. “Tell me or so help me I will see to it that you never dress another twelve inch Marine again.”
“I don’t know?”
Rodney’s face reddened, not from embarrassment but from the exertion of not committing elficide. His fists clenched and his PDA cracked just a little. He was going to have to replace the screen before the holiday season was out.
Grodin quickly stepped between the mad Chief Elf and Lindstrom. “Actually, I think Sheppard has them. He said they needed a double check. Something about them being deadly weapons.”
Rodney’s expression fell to nothing and remained blank for several seconds. The tension in the room went up another notch. “Well,” he said with an almost mollified nod, “at least that’s something.”
“What would you like us to do?” Grodin asked, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I would like you grow a brain cell or two, but seeing as that is unlikely, I’d like you to help Lorne’s team with the twenty inch ‘gates. Manage that, can you?”
Rodney didn’t wait for the answer. He turned and stomped out of the room, jangling the bells on his shoes as much as was elfishly possible. He got ten yards down the corridor before…
Crackle, bzzz, crackle… “Control room to McKay.”
Rodney stopped and counted to three. He smiled a little too politely at Elf Heightmeyer when she passed him with a concerned and scared expression. “Yes,” he said into his headset when she’d disappeared around the corner and Rodney was sure she wouldn’t poke her head back around it a fourth time.
“We’ve got a problem up here.”
“Well, colour me absolutely flabbergasted. I’m just thrown back with amazement. Really, my gast is so flabbered, I think I actually heard it rip. What’s the problem?”
“The Special Edition Stargate: Atlantis Tricycles aren’t working.”
“So? Make them work!”
“Uh, that’s a negative.”
“Why?”
“No wheels, sir. Who knew there would be such a run?”
Rodney wanted to curl up in small ball and cry. He was three steps from needing his teddy bear. “Halt production,” he said tearfully. “I’ll get back to you.”
It would be okay; it had to be. He just needed to keep it together for a few more weeks and it would all be over - along with his career, probably, but at least he wouldn’t have the headache of trying to oversee toy production for the whole of the Pegasus Galaxy.
His headset crackled again. It was Zelenka. “Rodney, where are you? I have enormous problem here.”
Rodney welled up. “And that would be?”
“We need extra elves in Wrapping.”
“Why?”
“Someone has mixed up children’s toys with adult. Vibrators are missing. Everything needs to be unwrapped or I am afraid someone may get quite a shock on Christmas morning. I dread to think where human adult female will stick Special Edition Daedalus.”
Snap! “Deal with it!” And Rodney ran and ran and ran and…stopped because he was out of breath…and ran and ran and ran until he was lost.
It was like this every year, progressively getting worse, and he just couldn’t cope. It was too much for even this genius elf to deal with by himself.
Lonely was a word he didn’t like to use, but it was moments like this that made him feel the cold breath of solitude. The wind rushed around him and it was only then that Rodney realised he was outside. He buttoned up his green felt jacket and pulled his hat further down over his ears.
The path was icy and perhaps normally Rodney would have been cautious, but tonight he didn’t care. He trudged along the precarious path towards a block of wooden buildings. A soft red glow spilled from one open door and Rodney unconsciously drifted towards it.
If only he had someone to stand by his side.
“Hey, Rodney.”
Rodney blinked and realised he was staring into a barn full of reindeer, one with a shiny red nose. Off to the side, sitting on top of a bale of hay, sat John Sheppard.
“Sheppard.” For once, Rodney was completely lost for words. John looked as adorkable as could be.
His legs crossed, his hat discarded next to him - because it always fell off anyway - John smiled crookedly. “Are you…okay?”
Rodney remembered that he’d been crying. He turned his back, scrubbed at his eyes and quickly checked for snot. “Um, yes, of course,” he said when he turned back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
John Sheppard shrugged and pushed his tray of miniature P-90s aside. “I heard there were problems.” He gestured to the radio sitting in his top pocket. “Things not going so well, huh?”
Rodney sagged and sat down heavily on the same bale of hay Sheppard was sitting on. He picked up Sheppard’s hat and twirled it around his fist. “They ask the impossible,” he said. “I’m a brilliant man, but some things are beyond even my capabilities.”
John smiled a slow and wide grin that made Rodney’s toes twitch and his bells jingle. “I know the feeling. Anything I can do to help?”
“Oh, please, what could you possibly do?”
“Hey! I can do plenty; that’s why I’m in charge of testing. Now do you want help or shall I go play with my weapons elsewhere?”
Rodney swallowed and tried not to notice the succulent tilt of Sheppard’s hair or the very manly stubble that stained his chin and jaw. “Uh…help, please?”
“You got it. What do you need?”
“About twenty five thousand plastic arms, fifteen thousand medium sized wheels and some Prozac. Uh, that last one is mostly for me.”
“Mostly?”
Rodney hooked a thumb behind him. “Carson said the reindeers were a little jumpy.”
Sheppard looked over at the grazing animals. “That’s mostly just Prancer. Although Dasher could do with a downer or two before he bursts something. Sort of like you.”
Rodney gave him a look which Sheppard ignored. “Do you have forty thousand spare parts or not?” Rodney asked sarcastically. “Because if you don’t… What are you doing?”
Sheppard stopped searching his pockets and looked up at him.
“You’re not going to find them in there!” Rodney barked. “Really, if you can’t take me seriously… You know what? I’m just going to leave. I really don’t need this right now.”
Sheppard snagged Rodney’s sleeve before he could get away. With the other hand, Sheppard pulled out a key-shaped biscuit. “Don’t get delicate. I was just looking for this.”
“What’s that?” Rodney asked suspiciously.
“This?” Sheppard asked, holding up the crumbly, delicious looking biscuit. “This is the key to unlocking all your worries.”
“It’s going to sprout legs and magically up my production at least twenty three percent? Why thank you, Sheppard, you made all my holiday dreams come true. What would I do without you?”
Sheppard blinked and in an instant his expression became not unlike a lonely pup in a Christmas shop. It made Rodney want to do anything to get back that cheerful smile, or at the very least take away the look which made Rodney want to end it all with a length of Christmas ribbon and a strong ceiling beam.
Still, when Rodney leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sheppard’s, it was a complete surprise. Although, Rodney suspected that his right foot knew because it had started jangling moments before and was still going like the clappers; then again, that probably now had more to do with Sheppard’s wandering hands. “Oh,” he said when he pulled back.
Sheppard smirked. “I knew that would work.”
“Knew what would…? Hey! Were you just trying to shut me up?”
Sheppard rolled his eyes and threw the key-shaped biscuit into the air, catching it again in his other hand. “There are easier ways. Congratulations, Rodney McKay, I was seducing you. Now, pick a reindeer.”
Rodney put his hands on his hips. “Well, you’ve got some nerve… Seduce me?”
Sheppard nodded.
“But… You like me?” Rodney’s face broke out into a wide grin. “I knew I was irresistible.”
“Pick a reindeer.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Feeling very chipper now that he’d kissed the elf of his dreams, Rodney studied the reindeers lined up in front of him. He picked the most intelligent looking one. “That one.”
“Cool. That’s Thickzen.”
Rodney sagged. “Terrific.”
“Hey, don’t worry,” John said, slapping Rodney’s back. “He’s the best one - great sense of direction. Good hoof control and inertial dampeners like you wouldn’t believe.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t believe,” Rodney muttered.
John heaved open the gate and threw the biscuit at Thickzen. “You just have to get over the cross-eyed thing.”
“He’s cross-eyed?! And how exactly will we find our way?”
John unhooked a saddle and strings of leather from a hook on the wall. He patted a black box attached to the reins. “Sat Nav.”
“Oh. Clever. Technology is really coming along, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. Let’s hop on.”
**
It took half an hour to ‘hop on’ - big reindeer, little elves - but once they had they were soon soaring through the night sky, zooming past galaxies, overtaking shooting stars and staring in wonder at the collapsing ones.
“I never realised how beautiful it is up here,” Rodney said. His mouth was open, slack and amazed, but his hands held tightly to the back of John’s jacket.
“Cool, huh? I love to fly.”
“I never knew that.”
“Well, you do now.”
There was silence for a while, both elves enjoying the quiet of space, enclosed in an energy bubble that kept them safe and, more importantly, warm.
“So, why are you the elf in charge of testing when you love to fly so much?” Rodney eventually asked, bored of the silence and needing to hear John’s slow tones once again.
John looked behind him and caught Rodney’s gaze. “I’ve applied five times to get reindeer duty. I keep getting blocked. My record isn’t exactly…spotless.”
“Huh. That’s ridiculous. What could you have possibly done?”
John sighed and told the story of how he had - on numerous occasions - not started to actually celebrate Christmas until December.
“Ridiculous,” Rodney said again. “And because of that-”
“Because of that my career is going nowhere. Not that I even really want a career. I just want to fly. I want to see the galaxy.”
“Huh. Funny. I’ve always wanted the same thing - seeing the galaxy, I mean. Sometimes I think in another life I could be a brilliant scientist and do things that no other could.”
John bobbed his head in a slow nod and steered them around a large round gate-like thing. “Me too.”
“Hey, maybe we are doing something special, in another dimension or something. Another us.”
“You know what I think?” John asked. “I think we already are. Think of all the joy we bring to billions of-”
“Brats? Oh, please. Like they haven’t got parents to buy them all those things they don’t actually need.”
John looked back at him again, part irritation, part surprise, part amusement filtering over his face. “Rodney! They’re kids!”
“They’re ankle biting, pay check sucking, demoralising lumps of demanding flesh.”
John lifted The Eyebrow.
“Okay, I didn’t mean that,” Rodney admitted. “Mostly. They are expensive, though. You can’t deny that!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” John leaned back enough to encourage Rodney to scoot forward and wrap his arms around John’s waist.
“Where did you say we were going again?” Rodney asked
“I didn’t.” He grinned at Rodney’s huff. “Space-Mart. They sell everything.”
“Twenty five thousand spare arms and fifteen thousand spare wheels?”
“You bet. And at a reasonable price, too. Did you remember the bag?”
“Caldwell’s magic sack? Sure, it’s here.” Rodney lifted the bottomless brown bag for John to see. Rodney wasn’t sure how it worked, but it apparently had something to do with anti-matter. “You know, I have a certain amount of influence where Elizabeth is concerned. I think I could maybe talk her into giving you a trial with the reindeers.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why not? You’re helping me; I’d like to help you.” Rodney grinned and held tighter when John’s hand touched his knee. “I think we make a good team.”
**
“Well done, gentlemen.” Elizabeth Christmas surveyed the read-outs on the data pad in her hand. “At this rate we’ll be back on target by the end of the week and exceeding last year’s production the week after.”
Rodney visibly sagged with relief.
“I must say,” Elizabeth continued, “I’m impressed. And John, I see you and Rodney have tinkered with the mechanisms in the conveyor belts. They’re moving forty five percent faster! And you’ve given the worker elves…crack? Very innovative.”
“That was John’s idea,” Rodney said, pointing at him proudly. “We’re expecting a six hundred percent increase in productivity with only a ten percent increase in work related aneurysms.”
“That’s wonderful news. Thank you. Both of you. John, this was way out of your normal area. I’m sure Santa Caldwell will be very impressed.”
“In that case,” Rodney said, glancing at John with a smug and sneaky glint in his eye. “We’d like to ask you a favour…”
**
“Cheers.” John raised his plastic beaker and clunked it against Rodney’s. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, John.” But instead of raising the beaker to his lips, Rodney leaned in, flicked the bell on his hat behind him and kissed John’s lips. “And congratulations on the promotion.”
John put down his beaker and lay down in the straw, tucking one arm behind his head and pulling Rodney down with the other. “Thank you, Rodney.”
“Welcome, John. It was the least I could do. You saved Christmas. You saved me.”
John looked like he was considering this. “I never saw myself as a hero type before.”
Rodney squeezed him. “You are completely my hero. You’re…my perfect hero. Well, except for the hair. We’ve really got to find a way to pin it-”
John suddenly sat up and grasped Rodney’s arms. “Did I tell you the best bit?”
Rodney shook his head, enjoying John’s excitement. John Sheppard was a good elf and an outstanding helper. He was going to make the best damn reindeer keeper in the Pegasus Galaxy.
“I get to pick a team,” John said from behind the biggest show of happy-teeth Rodney had ever seen.
“Team?”
“Yeah, while I’m exercising the reindeer - when it’s not Christmas - I’m allowed to go exploring. Elizabeth said I could pick a team to go with me during the quiet times. So, you wanna?”
“Me? I…uh… Me?”
John laughed and hugged Rodney until he squeaked from the pressure. “You want to, don’t you? You said you wanted to explore.”
John looked suddenly worried so Rodney kissed him, hard, deep and elfishly, whatever that meant. “I do. You really want me? I tend to bitch and complain a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed. And I’m deathly allergic to citrus, so you’ll have to watch out because that stuff turns up in the oddest of places and the only thing worse than experiencing anaphylactic shock is witnessing it. Plus, I have to eat regularly otherwise I get very tetchy and it plays havoc with my hypothermiceptia.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a real condition!” Rodney snapped defensively.
John held up his hands. “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”
“Oh. Well, uh, it’s a condition where I get chronic stiffness if I’m hungry or very tired, or both.”
“Chronic stiffness, huh?” John didn’t bother to hide his grin. “Sounds fun.”
“I can assure you- Oh.” Rodney blushed a deep shade of crimson. “You meant… I see. You’re a kidder. That’s not gonna grow old.”
John kissed him and gave him a smile that Rodney was afraid he was going to grow to love very much. “It’ll never get old. I guarantee it.”
The End
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney/John
Genre: Crack, AU
Rating: PG
Summary: It’s nearly Christmas and Rodney is panicking. Don’t the other elves understand the pressure he’s under? Don’t they care? Well, perhaps there is one elf he can turn to: John Sheppard, Chief Toy Tester and dreamer.
Beta'd by my fav Kitty in the whole world, kitty_poker1
I hereby blame this bunny on amejisuto who deliberately and maliciously said "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if..." She owes me. ;o)
Evil, Rodney thought. It was less than a month until Christmas Eve and they weren’t even halfway close to producing all the toys they needed. This wouldn’t do. Rodney jangled the bell on his right foot in annoyance and several of the lesser elves scuttled away.
“Hello, Rodney,” Mrs Christmas greeted. “Problems?”
“Ah, Elizabeth.” Rodney gestured toward the nearest conveyor belt. “Would you look? It’ll be Easter before we get all this done in time.”
Elizabeth Christmas looked confused. She narrowed her eyes at the belt, at the worker elves and then turned back to her Chief Elf. “Everything looks fine to me.”
“Well, it would to you, yes, but it’s a lot more complicated than that!” Rodney snapped. What was wrong with everyone? Why couldn’t anyone understand? “There are dolls with no heads, barking dog with no barks, wheels on fire trucks that won’t turn and that’s not even brushing the surface of this Mickey Mouse operation. The worst part? We are twenty three percent down on production compared to last year.” He shook his head again and crossed his arms, tucking his hands and his PDA under his armpits. “This is a disaster.”
Elizabeth nodded next to him and followed Rodney’s gaze back down to the hustle and bustle below. “What can I do?”
“That’s just it. There is nothing you can do. Yet again, Caldwell has asked the impossible.”
“Rodney,” Elizabeth warned. “That’s Santa Caldwell to you.”
Rodney rolled his eyes and dropped his arms to the side. “Pardon me - Satan Caldwell.”
“Santa!”
“Whatever.” Rodney stiffened as his headset crackled and buzzed. He tapped his ear. “Yes. Very busy.”
“Elf McKay, can you come to the lab, please? We’ve got a problem.”
Rodney nodded tiredly and sighed. “Of course you do. Be right there.” He slung Elizabeth a poignant look as he brushed past her. “See? I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s just not possible.”
“It’ll be fine,” she called after him. “Try not to worry! Enjoy the holiday season!”
Rodney nearly told her what she could do with her holiday season.
**
“Oh, now what is this?” He couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe this was happening to him. Why did the world torture him so?
Kavanagh looked up from his work, a puzzled expression spread over his ugly mug. “What?”
“What?” Rodney repeated. “What do you mean what? What are you doing?! What is this?!”
Kavanagh leaned on the work bench and smiled that stupid smug, sarcastic smile that always made Rodney want to remove it with a jar of acid. “It’s paint?”
“It’s pink,” Rodney pointed out. “Did that small point escape you or has colour blindness recently been added to your list of ‘Things that Make You an Idiot’? Perhaps I missed that memo?”
“Are you crazy?” Kavanagh asked.
“Quite possibly, yes, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve mixed up a vat of pink paint when I asked for bright red!”
“It isn’t pink.”
“I’m telling you, it’s pink.”
“And I’m telling you it isn’t.”
“Don’t argue with me, Kavanagh. I’m the genius and I’m telling you that if you deliver that paint down to Arts we are going to end up with ten thousand pink fire trucks. Shipping will return it and Satan Caldwell will want to know why and, as usual, it’s my ass on the line.”
“It’s. Not. Pink.”
Rodney rubbed his hand over his forehead and fought the urge to go homicidal on Kavanagh’s ass. “Start over.”
“But-!”
“Just do it!” Rodney’s headset fizzled again.
“Elf McKay, we’ve got a problem in Parts.”
“Oh, for… I’m on my way.” Rodney turned his back on Kavanagh and stomped out of the room, his hat flinging backwards and flouncing with him. “And someone turn off that damn Christmas music!”
**
“You know, I would consider myself to be a very intelligent man, a genius, in fact. So would somebody please tell me how I could have made such a stunning misjudgement when I hired you imbeciles? Really, my cat could have done a better job, and you know what? He’s only got three legs.”
Lindstrom hung his head in pure shame, the weight of Rodney’s hard stare slowly pushing it further and further down. “I thought we had enough. It was enough last year.”
Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose and decidedly ignored the big basket of one-armed Air Force Andys. When he spoke it was with the patience of a man who was being repeatedly poked with a pointy finger. “Stargate: Atlantis is this year’s biggest hit. All over the world. Only the insane, the idiotic or the dead would ever think that fifty thousand plastic arms were going to cut it.”
“But-”
“Seventy five thousand minimum. And, oh, please tell me the miniature P-90s are working?”
“Uh…”
Rodney’s eyes saucered like never before and he thanked Frosty that he’d never learned any kung-fu. “Tell me or so help me I will see to it that you never dress another twelve inch Marine again.”
“I don’t know?”
Rodney’s face reddened, not from embarrassment but from the exertion of not committing elficide. His fists clenched and his PDA cracked just a little. He was going to have to replace the screen before the holiday season was out.
Grodin quickly stepped between the mad Chief Elf and Lindstrom. “Actually, I think Sheppard has them. He said they needed a double check. Something about them being deadly weapons.”
Rodney’s expression fell to nothing and remained blank for several seconds. The tension in the room went up another notch. “Well,” he said with an almost mollified nod, “at least that’s something.”
“What would you like us to do?” Grodin asked, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I would like you grow a brain cell or two, but seeing as that is unlikely, I’d like you to help Lorne’s team with the twenty inch ‘gates. Manage that, can you?”
Rodney didn’t wait for the answer. He turned and stomped out of the room, jangling the bells on his shoes as much as was elfishly possible. He got ten yards down the corridor before…
Crackle, bzzz, crackle… “Control room to McKay.”
Rodney stopped and counted to three. He smiled a little too politely at Elf Heightmeyer when she passed him with a concerned and scared expression. “Yes,” he said into his headset when she’d disappeared around the corner and Rodney was sure she wouldn’t poke her head back around it a fourth time.
“We’ve got a problem up here.”
“Well, colour me absolutely flabbergasted. I’m just thrown back with amazement. Really, my gast is so flabbered, I think I actually heard it rip. What’s the problem?”
“The Special Edition Stargate: Atlantis Tricycles aren’t working.”
“So? Make them work!”
“Uh, that’s a negative.”
“Why?”
“No wheels, sir. Who knew there would be such a run?”
Rodney wanted to curl up in small ball and cry. He was three steps from needing his teddy bear. “Halt production,” he said tearfully. “I’ll get back to you.”
It would be okay; it had to be. He just needed to keep it together for a few more weeks and it would all be over - along with his career, probably, but at least he wouldn’t have the headache of trying to oversee toy production for the whole of the Pegasus Galaxy.
His headset crackled again. It was Zelenka. “Rodney, where are you? I have enormous problem here.”
Rodney welled up. “And that would be?”
“We need extra elves in Wrapping.”
“Why?”
“Someone has mixed up children’s toys with adult. Vibrators are missing. Everything needs to be unwrapped or I am afraid someone may get quite a shock on Christmas morning. I dread to think where human adult female will stick Special Edition Daedalus.”
Snap! “Deal with it!” And Rodney ran and ran and ran and…stopped because he was out of breath…and ran and ran and ran until he was lost.
It was like this every year, progressively getting worse, and he just couldn’t cope. It was too much for even this genius elf to deal with by himself.
Lonely was a word he didn’t like to use, but it was moments like this that made him feel the cold breath of solitude. The wind rushed around him and it was only then that Rodney realised he was outside. He buttoned up his green felt jacket and pulled his hat further down over his ears.
The path was icy and perhaps normally Rodney would have been cautious, but tonight he didn’t care. He trudged along the precarious path towards a block of wooden buildings. A soft red glow spilled from one open door and Rodney unconsciously drifted towards it.
If only he had someone to stand by his side.
“Hey, Rodney.”
Rodney blinked and realised he was staring into a barn full of reindeer, one with a shiny red nose. Off to the side, sitting on top of a bale of hay, sat John Sheppard.
“Sheppard.” For once, Rodney was completely lost for words. John looked as adorkable as could be.
His legs crossed, his hat discarded next to him - because it always fell off anyway - John smiled crookedly. “Are you…okay?”
Rodney remembered that he’d been crying. He turned his back, scrubbed at his eyes and quickly checked for snot. “Um, yes, of course,” he said when he turned back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
John Sheppard shrugged and pushed his tray of miniature P-90s aside. “I heard there were problems.” He gestured to the radio sitting in his top pocket. “Things not going so well, huh?”
Rodney sagged and sat down heavily on the same bale of hay Sheppard was sitting on. He picked up Sheppard’s hat and twirled it around his fist. “They ask the impossible,” he said. “I’m a brilliant man, but some things are beyond even my capabilities.”
John smiled a slow and wide grin that made Rodney’s toes twitch and his bells jingle. “I know the feeling. Anything I can do to help?”
“Oh, please, what could you possibly do?”
“Hey! I can do plenty; that’s why I’m in charge of testing. Now do you want help or shall I go play with my weapons elsewhere?”
Rodney swallowed and tried not to notice the succulent tilt of Sheppard’s hair or the very manly stubble that stained his chin and jaw. “Uh…help, please?”
“You got it. What do you need?”
“About twenty five thousand plastic arms, fifteen thousand medium sized wheels and some Prozac. Uh, that last one is mostly for me.”
“Mostly?”
Rodney hooked a thumb behind him. “Carson said the reindeers were a little jumpy.”
Sheppard looked over at the grazing animals. “That’s mostly just Prancer. Although Dasher could do with a downer or two before he bursts something. Sort of like you.”
Rodney gave him a look which Sheppard ignored. “Do you have forty thousand spare parts or not?” Rodney asked sarcastically. “Because if you don’t… What are you doing?”
Sheppard stopped searching his pockets and looked up at him.
“You’re not going to find them in there!” Rodney barked. “Really, if you can’t take me seriously… You know what? I’m just going to leave. I really don’t need this right now.”
Sheppard snagged Rodney’s sleeve before he could get away. With the other hand, Sheppard pulled out a key-shaped biscuit. “Don’t get delicate. I was just looking for this.”
“What’s that?” Rodney asked suspiciously.
“This?” Sheppard asked, holding up the crumbly, delicious looking biscuit. “This is the key to unlocking all your worries.”
“It’s going to sprout legs and magically up my production at least twenty three percent? Why thank you, Sheppard, you made all my holiday dreams come true. What would I do without you?”
Sheppard blinked and in an instant his expression became not unlike a lonely pup in a Christmas shop. It made Rodney want to do anything to get back that cheerful smile, or at the very least take away the look which made Rodney want to end it all with a length of Christmas ribbon and a strong ceiling beam.
Still, when Rodney leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sheppard’s, it was a complete surprise. Although, Rodney suspected that his right foot knew because it had started jangling moments before and was still going like the clappers; then again, that probably now had more to do with Sheppard’s wandering hands. “Oh,” he said when he pulled back.
Sheppard smirked. “I knew that would work.”
“Knew what would…? Hey! Were you just trying to shut me up?”
Sheppard rolled his eyes and threw the key-shaped biscuit into the air, catching it again in his other hand. “There are easier ways. Congratulations, Rodney McKay, I was seducing you. Now, pick a reindeer.”
Rodney put his hands on his hips. “Well, you’ve got some nerve… Seduce me?”
Sheppard nodded.
“But… You like me?” Rodney’s face broke out into a wide grin. “I knew I was irresistible.”
“Pick a reindeer.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Feeling very chipper now that he’d kissed the elf of his dreams, Rodney studied the reindeers lined up in front of him. He picked the most intelligent looking one. “That one.”
“Cool. That’s Thickzen.”
Rodney sagged. “Terrific.”
“Hey, don’t worry,” John said, slapping Rodney’s back. “He’s the best one - great sense of direction. Good hoof control and inertial dampeners like you wouldn’t believe.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t believe,” Rodney muttered.
John heaved open the gate and threw the biscuit at Thickzen. “You just have to get over the cross-eyed thing.”
“He’s cross-eyed?! And how exactly will we find our way?”
John unhooked a saddle and strings of leather from a hook on the wall. He patted a black box attached to the reins. “Sat Nav.”
“Oh. Clever. Technology is really coming along, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. Let’s hop on.”
**
It took half an hour to ‘hop on’ - big reindeer, little elves - but once they had they were soon soaring through the night sky, zooming past galaxies, overtaking shooting stars and staring in wonder at the collapsing ones.
“I never realised how beautiful it is up here,” Rodney said. His mouth was open, slack and amazed, but his hands held tightly to the back of John’s jacket.
“Cool, huh? I love to fly.”
“I never knew that.”
“Well, you do now.”
There was silence for a while, both elves enjoying the quiet of space, enclosed in an energy bubble that kept them safe and, more importantly, warm.
“So, why are you the elf in charge of testing when you love to fly so much?” Rodney eventually asked, bored of the silence and needing to hear John’s slow tones once again.
John looked behind him and caught Rodney’s gaze. “I’ve applied five times to get reindeer duty. I keep getting blocked. My record isn’t exactly…spotless.”
“Huh. That’s ridiculous. What could you have possibly done?”
John sighed and told the story of how he had - on numerous occasions - not started to actually celebrate Christmas until December.
“Ridiculous,” Rodney said again. “And because of that-”
“Because of that my career is going nowhere. Not that I even really want a career. I just want to fly. I want to see the galaxy.”
“Huh. Funny. I’ve always wanted the same thing - seeing the galaxy, I mean. Sometimes I think in another life I could be a brilliant scientist and do things that no other could.”
John bobbed his head in a slow nod and steered them around a large round gate-like thing. “Me too.”
“Hey, maybe we are doing something special, in another dimension or something. Another us.”
“You know what I think?” John asked. “I think we already are. Think of all the joy we bring to billions of-”
“Brats? Oh, please. Like they haven’t got parents to buy them all those things they don’t actually need.”
John looked back at him again, part irritation, part surprise, part amusement filtering over his face. “Rodney! They’re kids!”
“They’re ankle biting, pay check sucking, demoralising lumps of demanding flesh.”
John lifted The Eyebrow.
“Okay, I didn’t mean that,” Rodney admitted. “Mostly. They are expensive, though. You can’t deny that!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” John leaned back enough to encourage Rodney to scoot forward and wrap his arms around John’s waist.
“Where did you say we were going again?” Rodney asked
“I didn’t.” He grinned at Rodney’s huff. “Space-Mart. They sell everything.”
“Twenty five thousand spare arms and fifteen thousand spare wheels?”
“You bet. And at a reasonable price, too. Did you remember the bag?”
“Caldwell’s magic sack? Sure, it’s here.” Rodney lifted the bottomless brown bag for John to see. Rodney wasn’t sure how it worked, but it apparently had something to do with anti-matter. “You know, I have a certain amount of influence where Elizabeth is concerned. I think I could maybe talk her into giving you a trial with the reindeers.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why not? You’re helping me; I’d like to help you.” Rodney grinned and held tighter when John’s hand touched his knee. “I think we make a good team.”
**
“Well done, gentlemen.” Elizabeth Christmas surveyed the read-outs on the data pad in her hand. “At this rate we’ll be back on target by the end of the week and exceeding last year’s production the week after.”
Rodney visibly sagged with relief.
“I must say,” Elizabeth continued, “I’m impressed. And John, I see you and Rodney have tinkered with the mechanisms in the conveyor belts. They’re moving forty five percent faster! And you’ve given the worker elves…crack? Very innovative.”
“That was John’s idea,” Rodney said, pointing at him proudly. “We’re expecting a six hundred percent increase in productivity with only a ten percent increase in work related aneurysms.”
“That’s wonderful news. Thank you. Both of you. John, this was way out of your normal area. I’m sure Santa Caldwell will be very impressed.”
“In that case,” Rodney said, glancing at John with a smug and sneaky glint in his eye. “We’d like to ask you a favour…”
**
“Cheers.” John raised his plastic beaker and clunked it against Rodney’s. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, John.” But instead of raising the beaker to his lips, Rodney leaned in, flicked the bell on his hat behind him and kissed John’s lips. “And congratulations on the promotion.”
John put down his beaker and lay down in the straw, tucking one arm behind his head and pulling Rodney down with the other. “Thank you, Rodney.”
“Welcome, John. It was the least I could do. You saved Christmas. You saved me.”
John looked like he was considering this. “I never saw myself as a hero type before.”
Rodney squeezed him. “You are completely my hero. You’re…my perfect hero. Well, except for the hair. We’ve really got to find a way to pin it-”
John suddenly sat up and grasped Rodney’s arms. “Did I tell you the best bit?”
Rodney shook his head, enjoying John’s excitement. John Sheppard was a good elf and an outstanding helper. He was going to make the best damn reindeer keeper in the Pegasus Galaxy.
“I get to pick a team,” John said from behind the biggest show of happy-teeth Rodney had ever seen.
“Team?”
“Yeah, while I’m exercising the reindeer - when it’s not Christmas - I’m allowed to go exploring. Elizabeth said I could pick a team to go with me during the quiet times. So, you wanna?”
“Me? I…uh… Me?”
John laughed and hugged Rodney until he squeaked from the pressure. “You want to, don’t you? You said you wanted to explore.”
John looked suddenly worried so Rodney kissed him, hard, deep and elfishly, whatever that meant. “I do. You really want me? I tend to bitch and complain a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed. And I’m deathly allergic to citrus, so you’ll have to watch out because that stuff turns up in the oddest of places and the only thing worse than experiencing anaphylactic shock is witnessing it. Plus, I have to eat regularly otherwise I get very tetchy and it plays havoc with my hypothermiceptia.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a real condition!” Rodney snapped defensively.
John held up his hands. “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”
“Oh. Well, uh, it’s a condition where I get chronic stiffness if I’m hungry or very tired, or both.”
“Chronic stiffness, huh?” John didn’t bother to hide his grin. “Sounds fun.”
“I can assure you- Oh.” Rodney blushed a deep shade of crimson. “You meant… I see. You’re a kidder. That’s not gonna grow old.”
John kissed him and gave him a smile that Rodney was afraid he was going to grow to love very much. “It’ll never get old. I guarantee it.”
The End