Disclaimer: MGM owns SGA; KOI does NOT.
Note: A little late perhaps, but here it is.
Chapter Three:
St. Patrick's Day in The Springs
By koinekid
Saturday, 17 March 2012
0918 MDT
Colorado Springs, CO
The aroma of strong coffee drew Jennifer McKay up the stairs, down the hall, and into the unfinished nursery. Giving up caffeine was the toughest challenge of her early pregnancy, but she hadn't tasted a drop since the beginning of the year. Now, nearing the end of her first trimester, food cravings had replaced nausea as her most potent intestinal hardship and left the young woman powerless to resist her favorite morning beverage.
"Sweetie, you in here?" Denying herself was so much easier with Rodney holding her and reciting from his copious list of food allergies. His forgoing orange juice and yogurt under the threat of anaphylaxis made her sacrifice for the health of their child seem paltry by comparison. And yet...
Jennifer's eyes roved over the nursery in search of that enticing scent, a task made easier since all the furniture had been moved to the center of the room in preparation for painting. She groaned. Atop the chest of drawers, left unattended by her darling husband and part-time conscience, set a tall steaming mug of ambrosia. Colombian blend. Light cream. One teaspoon Splenda.
Damn it.
Warmth flowed into her hands as she lifted the mug and held it beneath her nose. Inhaling, she nearly wept. "Rodney, where are you?"
"Right here, Jennifer. What's—? Ah." Her husband stood in the doorway clutching a hammer and an armload of canvas drop cloths. Apprehension on his face gave way to relief as he discerned her predicament. "Is that all? You scared me."
Jennifer frowned at the hammer. "And your reaction to fear was to clobber me?"
"Obviously not." He deposited his tools on the changing table. "Found a loose nail in the moulding when I moved the crib. Sorry I left the kryptonite setting out. Won't happen again, I promise."
Relinquishing the mug, she leaned into him, sighing as his sturdy arms encircled her. "Lemonade," he whispered, "soft drinks, mayonnaise."
"Mmm, baby, you always know what to say."
Her resolve buckled when he tilted her chin upward to claim a kiss, and she tasted a hint of the bitter brew on his tongue. "Still," she said,"a little caffeine is probably okay."
Rodney shrugged. "You're the physician. If you think so—"
"Rodney, you need to be my rock."
"All right, absolutely no coffee. I'll even drink my morning cup at work from now on."
"Thank you." She kissed him again. One last hit for the junkie.
"I was kind of hoping you'd let me off the hook on that one," Rodney confided, then at her injured look, quickly added, "No, no, happy to do it. Bill will have to suck it up and deal with my bad moods."
"Because you're ordinarily so cheerful and sunny?" she quipped.
"Since I met you, yeah." He lowered a hand to pinch her bottom.
"Hey!"
"Sorry, sweetheart, but you're not wearing green. And those are the rules today."
"Careful, handsome, you're not wearing green either." Jennifer reached beneath his tee shirt and delivered a playful squeeze to his love handle. She pouted when she realized how rapidly he was losing weight. Those gym visits were paying off.
"Am too," he returned. "Just not anywhere that's visible."
"Oh?"
"I'll show you later. If you're good."
"How about now?"
"Now, we paint. Open the windows, and I'll start masking the walls."
"Fine." Jennifer stuck out her tongue. "But just so you know, I might not be in the mood later."
Rodney grinned and took a long swig of coffee. "Ah, delicious."
Light streamed through the south-facing window, and though they hadn't quite finished the first coat, Rodney consented to lie beside her and let the midday sun warm their bodies. Contentment settled over her, and Jennifer wanted nothing more than to lie here with this man with her head on his shoulder and their clasped hands upon her belly forever. Never deeply religious, she still held out a slim hope for the existence of heaven. Odd that she found it on the second floor of her own home.
All good things must end, and Jennifer ended this on her own terms. Lifting her head, she strained her neck to reach him. Recognizing her intention, Rodney met her halfway. Their kiss started off shyly like two teenagers on their first date. Passionate kisses didn't seem appropriate in heaven, she supposed, but reticence soon vanished, and their tongues met. The coffee flavor had faded, and Jennifer tasted only him. Pure 1968 vintage McKay. Her favorite.
They ended up stretched out, facing one another, his hand resting on the flare of her hip. The first of her pregnancy weight had shown up there, thickening her hips and making her feel – if not look – bottom heavy. But Rodney seemed to take to her changing figure, and that made her happy. The look in his eyes made her wonder. "If you're thinking of pinching me again, don't."
Rodney chuckled. "No, just reminding myself to make sure you wear green when we go out tonight."
"Why's that?" As if she didn't know.
"'Cause if you look this great in sweat pants, imagine what a town full of soldiers will make of you in jeans."
Though Jennifer flushed with pride at the compliment, her Midwestern upbringing demanded she play it down. "That's sweet of you to say, but all my jeans are getting a lit-tle tight these days."
"Kind of what I meant. You—" Another kiss cut him off.
"Just keeping you from wrecking a perfectly good compliment, dear." Jennifer giggled. "So, who's going to be there tonight to see me in my sensible slacks?"
"Spoilsport," Rodney muttered. "Let's see: John, Ronon, a couple of bimbos probably, and Carson."
Jennifer shot up. "Carson's back?"
Rodney groaned. "He got in yesterday. It was supposed to be a surprise."
Jennifer was too excited to see her mentor again to worry about that. "You didn't tell him, did you? About the name we chose?"
"Give me some credit." Rodney shook his head.
"Good, we'll tell him tonight."
"Sounds like a plan." Rodney stood and pulled Jennifer to her feet. "But first, we finish painting."
She considered their progress with a critical eye. "You don't think the color's too on the nose?"
"It's our first kid. We're allowed to be a little traditional."
"Granted, but isn't this too traditional?"
Rodney shrugged. "Nah, my sister's room was pink."
"And I suppose yours was—?"
"Gray." He crouched to retrieve a paint roller. "I hated it. I want our son to have the best."
"Hear that, kiddo?" Jennifer rubbed her stomach. "Daddy loves you very much."
"Sure do," Rodney said. "And Mum is stalling."
Smirking, she picked up her own roller and dipped it into the paint tray. Green might be the color of the day for everyone else in Colorado Springs, but for Rodney McKay and his wife Jennifer, it was bright blue. "You're right, honey," she said. "Nathaniel Carson McKay is going to love this."
Next: Easter
Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.
