Warnings: Spoilers for "Doppelganger" and previous episodes.
Author's notes: Currently un-beta'd, read at your own risk.
--Wordswordswords-- = thoughts
"Wordswordswords" = speech
Disclaimer: No they don't belong to me, unfortunately.
Rodney leaned his head against the shower wall, breathing deeply and forcing his back muscles to relax as Atlantis poured water down over him.
A grand total of 17 days had passed since Samantha Carter had taken control of the Atlantis expedition, and already Rodney could see trouble on the horizon.
So many situations that they had seen in the last two and a half weeks had shown a disturbing parallel to missions run by SG-1; and he could already see that Sam was comparing.
The energy being who lived in a crystal, the terrible enemy who almost could not be killed; when the entity had been inside him, she had commented on the similarities, but Rodney had seen it in her eyes. --If this had been SG-1, we would have seen something different, no one would have died. --
Rodney was no expert, but that kind of complacency would end in more deaths. She was going to begin to believe that she had seen it all, and just when she relaxed into familiarity, as she was bound to do; something new would show up, and that would be the thing to destroy them all.
Rodney sighed deeply, and told the shower to turn off. Grabbing a towel he moved into the bedroom. There was really nothing he could do except hope that the new thing would take its time. At the very least enough time for them to prepare.
* * *
Rodney had learned very early on that if you were good at something, people didn't care if you knew what manners were. Unfortunately he had to wait another six years before he could act on that knowledge, and even if people didn't necessarily like a mouthy ten-year-old, the nuclear bomb he had built two years before that time convinced most of them.
Contrary to popular opinion in two galaxies, Rodney not only had social skills, he could use them; and occasionally he did, when he chose. He just hadn't chosen too for the past 30 years.
After all, manners came with the downside that if you were nice to people, they started to think you liked them. Then they asked you to do things for them.
* * *
Now Rodney wore his abrasiveness like one of those comforting sweaters you never wanted to take off, a sweater made of Kevlar that repelled all advances.
Atlantis had changed that. Since he came here he had found people who had taken the time to dig through the mask. Willing to peel away the layers and try to find the real Rodney hiding under the bluster and show.
John had done that easier than everyone else. That was why he called him Sheppard instead of John; it was just one more barrier keeping him from getting too close. But John still tore away the barriers as fast as Rodney could put them up. It scared him. He had never found someone willing to try this hard before. Never.
* * *
Rodney lay down on his bed, thinking back to the past days couple of days.
Rodney had looked at the John standing in front of him. Whichever one this was had just thrown its counterpart through the Stargate in John's brain. He sent out a quick prayer that this really was John, because if it wasn't he was dead.
Then he had put his foot in his mouth.
"…I would have thought there would be more beautiful women."
John had paused. It had not been his imagination. John had definitely paused.
"Yeah."
Rodney had long since made his peace with his bi-sexuality, but now he was realizing that he might actually have a chance to get what he had wanted for so long.
* * *
In Antarctica it had been a case of simple lust. Lust for the beautiful, messy-haired pilot who sat down in a chair and sent vibrations humming through his bones. As his barriers fell away, the lust had changed, developed, grown into something more.
Rodney had hidden that behind blustering and ramblings about the beautiful blond at the SGC, as he had hid all his feelings for American military personnel since he had arrived back from Siberia. When he was trapped in the sinking 'jumper, it had not been a mirage of Carter (as he had told everyone) that kept him sane, it had been John.
Rodney was scared; he was always scared, but usually not like this. This was a different kind of scared. He was scared that John would hate him. Rodney couldn't deal with that
He sighed. There was no way he was going to get to sleep now.
He got up and headed towards the mess hall, food could never hurt.
He loaded his tray with far more than he could possibly eat on his own; he had a feeling that he wouldn't be the only one awake tonight.
He walked out on the balcony and saw John and Teyla already there.
He blathered something about 'just coming down for a midnight snack'.
"Yeah, we couldn't sleep either" John replied, stealing some food off Rodney's tray as he sat down. Rodney nodded to himself, and made the requisite noises about food thieves; placing a private bet that they would be joined by Ronon, Keller and Carter at least.
Several hours later, as hints of the sun began to show rising in the east, Rodney's tray had been picked clean, and the Keller and Ronon had left.
* * *
Rodney watched silently as Teyla placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Perhaps it would be best if we left now." She said softly. "I believe that John and Rodney probably have things to talk about that they would rather we didn't hear.
Sam glanced at Teyla in surprise, then at John and Rodney, leaning on the railing with a carefully maintained distance between them.
"Yes, I think that's probably a good idea" she said.
"It's Teyla," John remarked, "When does she ever have a bad idea?"
Teyla merely smiled, then she dragged Sam away.
John watched them go from the corner of his eye, then turned his back on the ocean, leaning back on the railing.
Rodney glanced over, and had to stop himself from laughing at the interest John was suddenly taking in his own military issue combat boots and the floor surrounding them.
Rodney knew better than to push this. Whatever John felt he needed to say, it was something that he needed to get out on his own.
"When you were in my head, you asked me about the lack of hot girls…" John paused, pushing himself up off the railing and walking across the balcony. He leaned against the wall, carefully looking everywhere except at Rodney.
After a good twenty minutes of silence, Rodney sighed. Self-revelations were all well and good, but he had to get to work some time this morning.
"Yes…and…so?" he prompted, interrupting John's thoughts.
"Hmmm?" John answered, looking up at Rodney for the first time since the conversation started.
"You were saying about the girls…?" Rodney hinted, then snickered to himself when John looked away and blushed.
"Oh for..." Rodney realized that if John went at his own pace, it could well be another century before he actually said it.
Rodney decided to take matters into his own hands.
He stalked over to John "Is this what you've been trying to say?" he asked, before trapping John's head against the wall with his hands, and pressing his lips to John's.
Heat and wet and lips and teeth and tongue and…
"God yes," John whispered after Rodney pulled away, then John's hand was on the back of Rodney's neck, pulling him back in.
John's lips eased over his own, all heat and softness. He felt a tongue brush his lip, requesting entrance; he opened to John, then melted against the strong body pressed against his. John pulled back, and Rodney could have sworn that his ears were ringing as he wrapped his arms around his best friend, his love, his John.
As John's arms came around him, he could have sworn he heard John whisper "There were no hot girls because you were always all I needed."
* * *
Teyla and Sam watched the two men on the balcony, smiling as they wrapped their arms around each other.
Sam smiled, wrapping her arm around Teyla's shoulders as Teyla's arm slid around her waist. The brunette rested her head on the blonds shoulder.
"They will be okay." She said softly.
"Yeah, they will."
~Fini