What About Me?
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: G
Warnings: Unbeta'd crack, be warned!
Archived: Please ask first
Email: kungfunurse@visi.com
Summary: A day in the life
*_*_*
"... through perils unimaginable to save you, Dr McKay-"
"Fine, fine, yes. Go sit over there with the others and keep your
mouth shut."
John eyed the growing bunch of alternate universe travelers with a
suspicious eye. There were three of them, now. Sleek,
intelligent, sexy-looking time, er, dimension travelers and not one of
them looked a damn thing like him.
"Hey," he said, leaning closer to Rodney, "how come none of them, you
know..."
"Isn't it obvious? These morons are from dimensions where you've
either been killed off or worse, never made it through the Stargate to
begin with. Don't worry, your manliness is still
unquestioned. It's becoming abundantly clear that any dimension
without you in it is even more terrifyingly lethal to me than this one."
"Yeah, ok, but what are they doing here?" Sheppard demanded
hotly. And really, enough was enough. They were all eyeing
Rodney with possessive little eyes and they could just back the fuck
off. They'd already lost
their Rodney and there was no way in hell he was letting them have his.
"Obviously I am also the smartest man in every other dimension
imaginable, as well as this one. Their scientists can't even
figure out how to send them back in time
properly. That one," he pointed at tall, blond, and hunky,
"actually had to rely on Kavanagh to send him back. Can you
imagine?" he shuddered, hands flying across several computers
simultaneously. "He probably tried to do some slingshot around
the sun Star Trek pseudo-science drek."
"That would explain the scorched puddlejumper," John replied
thoughtfully. "Ah ah ah!," he said warningly, glock trained
meaningfully on Too-sexy-for-his-shirt tattoo guy. "Sit."
"But-"
"I said, sit!"
Reluctantly, Tattoos sat back down and John swept the muzzle across the
rest of them, making his position very clear on the whole "approaching
Rodney" thing. Every one of them had done their best to convince
Rodney to return with them to wherever the hell they'd come from, and
John was having a hard time suppressing the itch to just shoot them on
general principles.
"John, this is Weir. How is Rodney coming along with our guests?"
"Weir, Sheppard here. McKay thinks he can have all of our
traveling friends home by lunchtime. Something about tracking
their unique energetic signature to some harmonic in the space-time
blabity-blah."
"Er, come again, Colonel?"
"Elizabeth, that was obviously military-speak for the Colonel not
having the slightest clue what he's talking about. Now please
stop distracting us, this is actually harder than it looks and every
time the Colonel gets distracted he sort of gets this 'But I didn't
<i>mean</i> to shoot them' look on his face."
"Hey! I've never shot anyone
that I wasn't fully intending to shoot." He smiled reassuringly
at an alternate version of Sumner, who fidgeted a bit on his seat.
"Dr Mckay, if we could just be sure that you will return us to our own
time, that is, the time we were aiming at to recover you, I'm sure I
speak for all of us when I say-"
"Can it, Blonde." John frowned, his wandering glock having found a new
target. "McKay is a very busy man, as I'm sure you're well
aware. You're lucky he's taking time away from his morning to
help you get back at all. If you wanted first class time travel
accommodations, well you should have discussed that up with your own
geeks. This one's taken." he smirked at them.
"Right, like you'd just leave us here, wandering around. You
can't wait to get rid of us," Tattoos mumbled, rubbing his arms and
trying to stay warm.
"Oh, I'm sure I could have come up with something to keep you lot out of my
hair," he drawled, visions of the north pier dancing in his head.
Apparently his visions were contagious, since all three of them settled
down meekly and kept their mouths shut after that.
After lunch (macaroni and not-cheese, Athosian goat-milk stew and an
apple) when McKay finally sent the last of their unwanted visitors on
his way, John finally holstered his sidearm. "You know, Rodney,
maybe I should, I don't know, stick a little closer to you for a
while. I mean, you're in mortal peril in all those dimensions at
the same time, and well, maybe there's some overlap to this one?"
"Colonel, I'm in mortal peril all the damn time! There's nothing
different about today except that you seem determined to stand over me,
protecting my virtue like a jealous cat."
"A cat, Rodney?"
"Yes, you're just like my old cat. He used to pee on my
girlfriend's laps. Not that there were that many, mind you, but
still."
"Um, Rodney-"
"And boyfriends too, for that matter. I mean, he wasn't choosy,
anyone who looked like they had the slightest interest in having sex
with me, bang, instant target."
"Really? Boyfriends? Rodney you sly dog, you've been
holding out on me."
"Oh? I could have sworn I'd mentioned... oh well. Now if
you'll excuse me, Colonel, this morning's entertainment has left me
weeks behind on my work."
"Rodney, wait. I was just thinking, why don't you choose the
movie tonight? You know, to make up for all that inconvenient
dimensional traveling harassment."
"Um, sure, but isn't movie night tomorrow night?"
"Well, yeah, but I thought we could have, you know a separate little
movie night. For just you and me." John smiled winningly.
"Oh, uh, ok. Fine. 1930 then?"
"Sounds like a plan," John approved, then waited until Rodney
disappeared around the corner before hightailing it back to his
quarters. If he traded favors with Martins, he could get his
laundry done this afternoon and be wearing his favorite black shirt for
tonight. One way or another, he was going to make sure Rodney
knew exactly where he
belonged.
-fin
Home
Back to SGA stories page