Sweet Dreams by Baalsgirl
Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis. (I wished I'd own Rodney and Carson, though...)
But, hey, I do own the story line, that's something to begin with.
Rating: K (PG?)
Season: early 1, as supplies were running low.
Pairings: bit of a Rodney & Carson slash
Summary: Rodney's got a serious problems concerning his most favorite junk food...
AN: This is my first Atlantis story and supposedly the first decent thing I've tried to write for you since April. Enjoy!
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Rodney McKay threw another sheet of paper into the waste bin.
"I can't work like this", he grumbled to himself. Frustrated he reached out to grab another piece of his consolation chocolate.
While he was munching on it he thought over his plans for the emergency power redistribution once again.
At once he remarked a motion. His gaze shifted to the table and he saw a hand directly en route toward his last bits of chocolate. Something needed to be done immediately.
"Ouch", Radek Zelenka drew back his hand, "What was that for?"
"For trying to get your fingers on my chocolate", Rodney stated in a very accusing way.
"That's no reason to hit me like that", he defended himself kneading his aching hand, "I wasn't even near it."
"You know, I'm an extremely egoistic person", Rodney said almost sulkily.
"If not already paranoid", the Czech mumbled, "but no wonder, since this is likely the absolute last bar in the entire city..."
"What?" Rodney stared at him, "Can you repeat that?"
"We are out of chocolate", Zelenka repeated aloud.
"That's impossible, you're kidding me", he glared at his colleague with disbelief.
"No, Rodney, it's a hundred percent true", came the innocent, but though absolutely not compassionate reply.
McKay rose from his chair, this matter needed further confirmation.
"Finish that for me", he told Radek quickly shuffling his notes over to him, "I've got more urgent things to do."
He then turned around to leave the lab grabbing, the last piece of chocolate left. He really, really could not work like this...
xxxxx
"Major Sheppard."
John Sheppard who had just been talking to Lieutenant Ford turned around slowly, turned around and folded his arms.
"McKay?" he questioned a little impatiently as he saw the searching expression on the physicist's face.
"I was told that our chocolate supply has run out and...", he began.
"That's it", the major said plainly, "and no, I don't have a hidden stock and if I did, I wouldn't tell you."
"And how about any Power Bars?" Rodney exquired eagerly.
Sheppard reached into his pocket and took one out holding it up in front of McKay's eyes, but as he wanted to snatch it, he pulled it back.
"No, Rodney", he said with a devious smirk, "I've always given you all the chocolate I had left, so now this one's mine. Mjum, peanut butter", he tore the pack open, "this'll replace the lunch I haven't had, yet", he turned to Ford, "Want some, Lieutenant?"
"Thank you, Sir", Aidan Ford grinned brightly, eyeing McKay mischievously.
"That's not fair", Rodney protested.
"Well", Ford stated, "wouldn't have that problem if you stopped guzzling five bars a day."
Rodney let out a pained sigh, "It's four at most", he muttered marching away from them disappointedly. He had to find somebody else he could pour his troubles out to, somebody who was less self-important than the military guys... someone like Dr Weir.
(AN: A really good occasion to tease Rodney, or what do you say?)
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"Elizabeth", Rodney cleared his throat and walked into Weir's office.
"Rodney", she eyed him expectantly, "Have you finished the redistribution plan?"
"Well, quite actually I've asked Dr Zelenka to do it", he paused, "Because I have another little problem I wanted to talk about just now."
"And that is?" she blinked thoughtfully as if knowing what was about to come.
"I was told that our supply of chocolate is no longer existent", he stated solemnly.
"Well, that's right, Rodney, I'm sorry. I know how much you need it."
To McKay it seemed as if she was inwardly mocking him, "Need? It's essential", he told her in a stirred way.
"I know. But I'm sure, there'll be a planet on which we'll find something comparable", Weir stated, "Till then you and all the others will have to live without it. If you'd apologize me now..." she got up.
"Of...course", he stammered with a flight of deep sadness. His situation was growing more and more desperate the more people he talked to.
Reluctantly he gave in that there might be only one person left who wouldn't tease but help him...
Sadly he trotted through the corridors until he finally reached infirmary.
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To be continued...
r&r please ;-) thx.